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mamayan · 1 year ago

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🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃

Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader

Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.

cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh

wc: 7k+

Something must be wrong with you.

Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.

The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.

This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.

Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.

You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.

The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.

Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?

They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.

Do you want to know who your new friend will be?

This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.

You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.

A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.

Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.

He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.

It’s cold.

It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.

You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.

“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.

…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.

You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.

Or maybe you were very ready.

“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.

“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.

You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.

Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.

He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.

He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.

His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.

He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.

It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.

“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.

He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.

Because you’ve never been more aroused.

Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.

“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.

“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.

He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.

“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.

“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.

His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.

“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.

You’re going to die.

It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.

It’s empty. This damn park is empty.

Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—

Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.

It hurts—!

Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.

“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.

“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.

Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.

He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.

There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.

“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.

“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.

“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.

“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.

He was still hard.

“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.

He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.

He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.

You really are a freak like he says.

You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.

The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.

His knife.

He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?

He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.

It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.

You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.

“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.

“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.

“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.

You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.

A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.

His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.

You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.

He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.

He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.

“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.

He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.

“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.

“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”

An unexpected question.

His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.

“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.

You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.

Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.

He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.

“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.

Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.

Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.

Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.

Not his problem though.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

#tw:noncon #kinktober #Shiggy fuckers come get y’all juice #kinktober 2023 #my only one lol #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki mha #shigaraki x reader #mha tomura #tomura x reader #boku no hero academia tomura #yandere tomura #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere tomura smut #yandere shigaraki tomura smut #yandere tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader smut

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notlongtolove · 9 days ago

Text

the earth was made for lovers

they say paris is the city of love. quantico, virginia? not so much. a smattering of cafés, the occasional pop-up museum if the season feels generous. it’s all routine, really, carved out of the ordinary.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: day in the life of bau!reader and bf spencer on a day off, just domestic fluff... spencer reid best bf ever agenda

word count: 2.3k

note: not even gonna lie this has almost nothing to do with the linked poem other than it being romance related i just read that line and my brain ran wild with it n e ways happy end of year everyone <3

a line: It’s where you met a boy too kind for his own good, love spilling from him at the edges.

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain, For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain. - emily dickinson

They say Paris is the city of love. Quantico, Virginia? Not so much. A smattering of cafés, the occasional pop-up museum if the season feels generous. It’s all routine, really, carved out of the ordinary.

Even the way you and Spencer met was decidedly unremarkable. A simple, predictable statistic—Work. No serendipitous meeting in a dusty bookshop or a fateful grab for the last box of cereal. Just proximity, shared interests, and time. Not exactly the makings of a Nicholas Sparks screenplay.

Your first date—if you could even call it that—A stakeout for the Reynolds case, which, in Spencer’s mind, seamlessly doubled as an outing, though you’d argued against it. It eventually evolved into coffee at a quiet café, a stroll through the park, and a chaste kiss on your doorstep. The weeks that followed had brought more kisses, more quiet moments, till it all became wonderfully familiar.

Now, you’re walking hand in hand, the crisp sound of leaves crunching beneath your steps.

“We should go to Venice this summer,” you say, your fingers laced with his.

“Venice?” he echoes, tilting his head.

“Mhm. The city of love,” you muse fondly.

“That’s Paris, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, for the unimaginative and basic. Think prosecco on gondolas, Spence.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow, amused. “Did you get a pay raise I didn’t hear about?”

You turn to meet him with a deadpan stare, leaning back against the cold metal pole of the bus stop. Spencer shifts, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his chest instead. To anyone else, it’s a sweet, tender, gesture of affection. And it is, mostly. But you of all people know Spencer likes having you close just as much as he likes keeping you from resting against questionable surfaces.

“Kidding honey,” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “Just let’s run it by Hotch before we start packing hm?”

A breeze cuts through the air, eliciting a shiver from you. Without missing a beat, Spencer shrugs off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders. If this had been your third date, you might have flushed, awkwardly protesting that you didn’t need it. But after two years, you’ve come to learn that Spencer Reid’s stubbornness rivals his intelligence when it comes to taking care of you. So you accept it without a word.

You accept the scarf, too, when he wraps it around your neck, tucking the ends neatly beneath the lapels of his coat. Your willing acceptance earns you a kiss on the tip of your nose, followed by one to your lips, soft and lingering.

When the bus arrives, you board first—always. There’s one seat left but you decline it, offering it to someone else instead. You’re both content standing, his arm steady as it holds the rail, yours slipping around his waist. You lean into him ever so slightly, your head resting just below his shoulder.

“Aw, we should’ve stopped by the bakery,” you sigh, eyes looking longingly out the window as the bus takes a slow turn past it.

Spencer leans across you, his hand already pressing the stop button. “We can walk back,” he says, his tone casual, though he doesn’t miss the way your eyes brighten instantly.

The bus comes to a gentle halt eventually, and his hand finds yours as you step off together. The sidewalk is narrow, but Spencer doesn’t seem to mind. Up ahead, the intersection is quiet, and with no cars in sight, he instinctively steps onto the road, letting you take the sidewalk to yourself, his hand never leaving yours.

As you walk, your hand dips into your bag, fingers sifting through an assortment of small objects before pulling out a wired earpiece. With one hand, you do your best to unravel it, then hand one side to Spencer.

“S’not that long of a walk, honey,” Spencer says, though he takes his side of the earpiece anyway.

“I know,” you reply, slipping the other side into your ear. “But the weather’s so nice.”

“Says the one in two coats and my scarf.” You nudge him lightly, elbow brushing his arm as you move to select a song from your shared playlist. Spencer nods approvingly when a Turnover song starts playing. “I like this one.”

“Me too,” you murmur, letting out a contented sigh as you slip your phone back into your bag, your hands swinging gently between you. Spencer considers telling you about Turnover’s musical evolution—their shift away from emo and punk rock roots. But the thought fades when he sees you quietly humming along, smiling to himself at the sight.

The aroma of fresh pastries wafts toward you from a block away, the bakery coming into view soon after. Your steps quicken instinctively, with Spencer keeping pace. “Inside or outside?” He asks as you approach.

Normally, you’d both opt for the cozy outdoor seating, but the earlier chill has thickened, and the sky is now overcast with a looming promise of rain. You sigh dramatically as you begin to coil the earpiece in your hand, “Don’t think we have much of a choice, honey.” Spencer meets your exaggerated pout with an equally exaggerated sad smile before pulling the door open for you.

It’s quiet inside, save for the soft clinking of cutlery from a table where two elderly women chat over tea. Spencer moves behind you, helping you shrug out of his coat and scarf before draping them neatly over the back of a chair. You make your way to the counter, eyes scanning the rows of baked goods lined up.

“Three for $10 on cupcakes today,” the cashier offers warmly.

“Ooh, one chocolate please,” you say, without hesitation. Spencer’s favourite.

“And one blueberry,” Spencer says. Your favourite, of course.

His eyes flick to you, a subtle tilt of his head, and you know exactly what he’s waiting for. Banana—a close second on your list, almost guaranteed to make the cut.

You pause, pretending to deliberate, “We’ll take a red velvet,” you declare finally, and Spencer’s lips quirk upward. His other favorite.

After a small debate over who’s paying—Spencer, of course; he’d sooner recite the entirety of The Canterbury Tales backward than let you pay while he’s around—you shuffle back to your table, cupcakes in your hand and the faintest hint of triumph in his grin.

“You know where else has really good cupcakes?” you say as you set the box down between you, already digging in.

He arches a brow, “Enlighten me.”

“Venice.”

Spencer snorts, barely stifling a laugh. “Ah yes, Venice, La Serenissima, renowned across the globe for its cupcakes.”

“You mock me Spencer Reid, but seriously,” you say with indignation, wagging your finger at him for emphasis. “I was looking at flights last night and—”

“You were looking at flights?” he cuts in, leaning across the table. His hand brushes your cheek, his thumb gently swiping away a smudge of blueberry frosting you hadn't noticed. You shift, instinctively leaning into his touch.

“They’ve got some really good deals right now,” you press on, undeterred, as you tear your blueberry cupcake neatly in half, holding out the piece to him.

“I mean, I guess we could,” Spencer says thoughtfully, handing you half of his chocolate cupcake in return.

“Really?” Your face lights up.

“But,” he adds, pausing for effect as he takes a bite, “we’d have to talk to Hotch first.”

You huff theatrically as you make a point of finishing the rest of your cupcake in one exaggerated bite.

Not long after, the cupcakes are gone, their crumbs swept aside, and the first light drizzle begins to spatter against the bakery window. Spencer is quick to help you into your coat, though this time you insist you don’t need his as well. He eyes you, clearly skeptical before relents and shrugs on his own coat.

“Not that cold anymore,” you insist, but he doesn’t let you fight him when he wraps his scarf around your neck, tucking it in once more. You can’t help but smile at the gesture.

Having Spencer Reid as a boyfriend means being perpetually over-prepared for every scenario, a fact proven moments later when you pull an umbrella from your bag—the very one he had slipped in earlier that morning.

Outside, the rain is light but persistent, it’s raindrops dotting the pavement in tiny patterns. You wait under the awning as Spencer opens the umbrella, holding his arm out for you to take. Truthfully, you are cold, colder than you’d like to admit, but you know Spencer too well. Whenever you share an umbrella, he always overcompensates, always angling it just so to keep you entirely dry. By the time you get home, one side of his coat is perpetually a shade darker, soaked from the rain, while you remain dry to the touch.

You hook your arm through his, leaning into him as you walk.

“So, you’ll talk to Hotch on Monday?” you prompt, glancing up at him with a hopeful smile.

“Me? You’re the one itching to cruise around on gondolas.”

“Yeah, but he likes you more,” you counter, “you’ve known him for ages,” drawing out the last word dramatically.

“You joined the team four months after me.”

“Please?” You know full well he’s already on the verge of giving in.

“Fine,” he sighs, relenting, though the smile on his lips betrays him.

You press a delighted kiss to his shoulder. “Best boyfriend ever.”

The walk home is peaceful, the quiet only broken by one brief moment of excitement when you swore you saw a kitten dart under the hood of a parked car. Spencer humoured you, standing and holding the umbrella patiently over you as you crouched to peek under the vehicle, only to find nothing but shadows.

At your building, he shakes the umbrella off before closing it, careful not to drip water on the lobby floor. You trail behind him up the stairs, your pace slowed by the stiffness of your boots. By the time you reach your door, you’re already leaning against the frame, tugging fruitlessly at the zipper on one of them.

“I can’t wait until we’re in Venice and out of this shitty weather,” you huff, fiddling with the stubborn zip.

Spencer chuckles softly, bemused. “Uh-huh,” he says, kneeling without a second thought. His fingers find the zipper, pulling it smoothly downward in one practised motion. “Up,” he prompts, tapping your ankle lightly. You shift your weight, lifting your foot so he can slide the boot off. The moment it’s free, his hands move to the other boot, tugging at the zipper while you steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder.

“You’d think for $80, they’d have mastered the art of waterproof footwear,” he quips, straightening up and setting your boots neatly by the door. His coat follows a moment later, draped on the hook in your living room.

The opening is too good to pass up. “You know where they make the best boots?”

Spencer glances at you, already catching on, “Touché darling”. He shakes his head in amused resignation. “Tea?” he offers, moving toward the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

“Yes, please,” you reply, kicking off your socks and padding after him. You hop onto the counter, your favourite perch, and swing your legs idly as he sets the kettle on the stove.

“Venice actually has surprisingly good tea,” he says, pulling open the cabinet to grab the mugs—yours with a faint crack along the rim that you refuse to part with, (despite his repeated, that’s really dangerous, honey, warnings) and his, adorned with a fading illustration of the periodic table.

“You’re joking,” you laugh as he sets the mugs on the counter beside you before his arms cage you in, one on either side.

“I’m serious, the first Western record of tea? Venice. Everybody knows Italy’s famous for its coffee, but tea has its place too.”

You hum in faux contemplation as your arms loop around his neck. “How very fascinating,” you reply, punctuating your words with light kisses along his jaw. You can feel him smile against your cheek as he continues his impromptu lecture, but his words falter when your hands slide up to brush the damp curls from his forehead.

His lips find the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that send you into a fit of giggles. “Spence,” you squeal, half-protesting as he nuzzles into your skin, his stubble tickling in just the right way. In your laughter, your arm brushes the counter, sending your mug tumbling to the floor with a sharp crash.

Both of you startle at the sound, Spencer’s reflexes kicking in as he immediately pulls you closer. “Shit. I’m sorry, honey.” Spencer’s eyes dart from you to the shattered ceramic on the floor. “Are you hurt?”

“M’fine,” you assure him, shaking your head. “Are you?”

He exhales, relieved, brushing his hands gently over your legs checking as if to make sure. “I’m fine, too. Just... don’t move, okay? It’s really sharp.”

You glance down at the scattered remains of your beloved mug, shoulders sagging slightly, the disappointment evident.

Spencer’s hand finds yours again, squeezing lightly as he flashes you a soft, reassuring smile. “S’okay, baby. You know where else they make really good mugs?” And you’re in a fit of laughter again.

Unfortunately, as it turns out, Hotch isn’t exactly thrilled about any PTO requests longer than two weeks—especially when it means losing two of his agents, and for an entire summer at that.

So, the summer doesn’t take you far after all. There’s no lovelock bridge, no prosecco sipped by moonlit canals. But there are cramped buses with too few seats, where you’d rather stand pressed together than sit apart. There are rain-soaked evenings, huddled close under an umbrella that never quite does its job of keeping both of you dry—though you’d argue that’s more on Spencer.

Quantico, Virginia, might not be the Eiffel Tower or a gondola gliding along a Venetian canal, but it is where Spencer first held your hand in a coffee breakroom after a scolding that left you blinking back tears, where you spent an entire evening sorting his books into new shelves after you got your own place together.

All in all, you’ve come to find that you quite like it here. It’s where you met a boy too kind for his own good, love spilling from him at the edges.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: humming by turnover pretty boy by the neighbourhood

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader

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unseededtoast · 1 year ago

Text

When Was It Over? | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: You had suspicions that another woman was receiving Spencer’s affections, and one night your worst fears are confirmed. Heartbroken, you try to move on but find yourself contemplating when things went wrong, and when it was all over. Inspired by “Is It Over Now?” By Taylor Swift

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.7k

content warnings: infidelity, angst, mention of blood

a/n: thank all of you lovelies for taking the time and reading, I appreciate each and every one of you. But especially to @mirdnightmass who suggested this, thank you🫶🏼 and if you have any suggestions please send them my way!

Woven into the fabric of the blanket is a blonde hair. And it most certainly isn't yours. No, the color is wrong and it's not the right length. Your eyes are glued to the hair, blood ice in your veins and chest sore from devastation.

"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.

Reading the words on your phone screen cause you stomach to turn with anxiety. Spencer had texted you that he will be home from a case tonight, and that he'd like to come over. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue and you'd be overjoyed to see him. But lately you suspect that there might be someone else entering the picture.

Your suspicions started small. He'd take phone calls that weren't from his boss, he would purposely order an extra coffee in the mornings to take to work, and he started working later than usual. Though you had no concrete proof of anything, it was a gut feeling that you just can't seem to shake.

But you push your anxiety aside and text Spencer back, letting him know that he's more than welcome to come over tonight. And as soon as you send the message, you put your phone away and clean your home to occupy your thoughts.

All too soon, Spencer's knocking on your door and you let him in with a smile on your face. He kisses you as he comes through, smelling oddly sweet. Fighting the urge to throw up, you convince yourself not to overreact until you're certain there's someone else in his life.

Throughout the evening, while the two of you are tangled together on the couch, you peek at him out of the corner of your eye and wonder where things started going wrong. There's a tension between the two of you, and though unspoken, its presence is well known.

You remember how only a few short months ago you would have been beyond excited to spend an evening with Spencer, and now you find yourself counting down the minutes until he leaves. He used to shower you in love and affection, but now his hand barely grazes your thigh.

When Spencer leaves for the night, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a goodnight. You realize as you shut the door that he hadn't told you that he loved you once.

- - - - -

Two weeks pass and Spencer has once again come back home from a case. This time his message asks you if you'd like to come over to his apartment. And you tell him you'll be there, but there's an odd sinking feeling residing in your chest.

Later in the evening you go to Spencer's apartment with distant memories dancing in your head. It seems like just yesterday you came here for the first time, bright eyed and head over heels in love with your boyfriend, who couldn't have been more perfect.

You walk in and place your coat on the rack beside the door, smiling at Spencer who stands with his hands in his pockets. Biting the insides of your cheeks, you wonder if he's even going to lay a finger on you tonight.

"How was your day?" He finally breaks the silence and you nod your head,

"It was okay. Just went to work and now I'm here." The conversation feels like one between new coworkers, not significant others of three years.

"Come on in, I rented your favorite movie and dinner should be here any minute." He finally takes a step towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head atop yours.

Feeling his arms hold you for the first time in almost a month is almost enough to drive you to tears. You take in his scent as it comforts you, and you nuzzle your head into his chest, wishing that whatever was happening between the two of you would pass and things would go back to normal. You miss Spencer's affections, your heart yearns to hear him declare his love for you.

After dinner, the two of you retire in the living room where you take your usual spot on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped over the back, and you pull it over top of you, but your heart stops once it lands in your lap.

Spencer walks into the room after getting a glass of water, but he falls short of sitting beside you. He must've noticed something was wrong in the way you're sat on the couch.

While Spencer watches, you grab the hair between your thumb and pointer finger, pulling it through the fabric and hold it in front of you, eyes meeting Spencer's. Your hand shakes as adrenaline pumps through you, Spencer's jaw falls slack.

"What is this?" Your voice is oddly even and calm given the situation. Spencer's mouth opens and closes a few times before he clears his throat and answers you.

"A friend had to crash here for a few nights." He admits, and you wonder why you're just now hearing of this.

"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.

"JJ, I work with her." He says, eyes casting down to the hair still in your grasp. Your heart wildly pumps in your chest.

"So you weren't going to tell me that a woman was staying the night with you?" Finally releasing the hair from your grasp, the realization dawns on you and it's like the puzzle pieces you'd collected over the last few weeks have suddenly put themselves together.

"No, she just needed a place to sleep for a few nights." He says, like he's also trying to convince himself of the same thing.

"Spencer don't lie to me. I know you've been taking coffee to her in the mornings, you've been staying later, and the last time you came over you smelled like her." Your voice starts to shake and you step away from Spencer. Tears well in your eyes and you beg your body not to betray you right now.

"She's just a friend." Is all Spencer refutes your argument with. Your head shakes back and forth, the reality setting in.

"Spencer you've taken better care of her than you have me. Hell, last time we saw each other you barely touched me and you didn't even tell me you love me. And tonight you're doing the same thing." Your throat feels like it's closing up from battling your emotions.

As you wait for him to say something, anything, your bottom lip trembles. Where did this all go wrong? Was there anything you could've done? Could you have held him tighter or kissed him more? The questions race through your mind but are cut short by Spencer.

"I'm sorry. We were on a case and she told me she loves me. But, I promise you that she is just a friend." The words that leave his lips are like knives being dug into your eardrums. And with his words, the tears resting in your lash line fall over and cascade down your cheeks, one right after another.

"How could you? Spencer, how could you? We had everything going for us. I love you with every fiber of my being. I thought you were the love of my life. But now you're just, you're just a lying traitor." You force the words out before you completely break down. Turning away from him, you rush to collect your things.

You're not even sure you put your shoes on the right feet but you don't care. The door of Spencer's apartment swings open and you take one last look at him. His mouth is open, eyes wet, but he says nothing.

He doesn't try to stop you as you leave his apartment, and that makes you sob even harder on your way home.

Is this really how things are ending between you?

- - - - -

"Come on have some fun!" Your friend, Sarah, nudges your shoulder, interrupting your daydream. It's a Friday night and the weather is nice, so she's begging to go out.

"I don't know Sarah, I'm not really in the mood." Your tone is melancholy, and all you want to do is crawl into bed. With a huff, Sarah steps in front of you and grabs your shoulders so that you're forced to look at her.

"You need this. I haven't seen you smile in weeks. Come on, go get ready. It'll be good for you." Her voice is kind, and soft, and you know she's only trying to help. As your lifelong best friend, she's always been in your corner with support and love.

"Fine." You relent, and go find something to wear. You're in no mood for anything uncomfortable or flashy, so you settle on a loose button up and a pair of ripped jeans.

"You look so good!" Sarah tries to hype you up as she grabs her keys, but it doesn't really work. You can't feel good while you're suffering on the inside. With her arm slung around your shoulder, you accompany her to whatever she has planned for tonight.

"Really?" You deadpan ask her as you stare at the neon light adorning the front of the building. This is quite literally the last place you wanted to be tonight, but here you are.

"Yes, it'll be fun, come on." Sarah grabs your hand and drags you alongside into the bar where the music is too loud and the people are even more annoying.

Against your wishes, you line up at the bar and wait to gain the bartender's attention. You figure if you're going to be here you'll need something to numb the experience. Sarah knows you've never been a fan of crowded places so you're confused as to why she even brought you here in the first place.

Once the two of you have your drinks in hand, you find an empty table and take a seat. As you sip, you look around at the patrons; people watching has always been quite enjoyable for you. Your eyes scan the bar and land on a tall man across the way. His smile is wide, hair dark and curly, eyes bright and soft.

Blinking rapidly, you pull your eyes away from the man and order another drink. Guilt eats you from inside as you realize you had been checking out another man; albeit one that looks oddly familiar. And surely another drink will help numb the guilt as well.

Hours later and two drinks turned into four. You feel your cheeks warm from the alcohol, and you're keenly aware that your eyes are back on the tall, handsome man from earlier.

"You should go say something." Sarah says, leaning on the table as she nurses her drink. Shaking your head, you disagree.

"No, I can't." You say, almost as if convincing yourself of your own answer. You're not even sure if you and Spencer are over, you can't possibly go introduce yourself to another man.

"Come on. He's been looking at you all night." She nudges you out of your seat and through the power of liquid courage, you relent.

Turning away from Sarah, you find the man easily and take a quick deep breath. It doesn't take you long to cross the bar and in seconds, you find yourself staring up at the man's green eyes. He's got a small smile on his face, his eyes gleam with curiosity.

"Hi." You smile up at the man, who smiles back.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing talking to a man like me?" He smiles wider, showing off his perfectly white teeth. Your eyes dance from the man's smile to his eyes, relishing in their familiarity.

"My friend said I should come say something." You tell him, having nothing actually prepared to say to him beyond an introduction. The man finishes off his drink and looks over to where Sarah is. He nods,

"Well I'm glad she did. Can I get you another?" He raises the empty glass in his hand. While you feel a little tipsy, you know one more wouldn't hurt.

"Sure." You smile up at him and watch as he goes to order the two of you another drink.

While he's away, you glance over to Sarah, who's smiling at you and giving you a thumbs up across the bar. You suppress your smile, but you're thankful she's still here; she wouldn't leave you alone with a stranger and you know she'll be here to make sure you're okay. Her reassuring presence is probably why you agreed to approach the man in the first place.

The man comes back with two glasses in his hands, and he gives you one of them. He invites you back to his table, which is only a few feet away from where you are standing, and the two of you get to know each other. You learn that he's from the area, he works in finance for a fortune 500 company, and he recently got out of a long-term relationship.

You share how your relationship status is hugely unknown at this point, but spare him the details for your own pride's sake. Thankfully, he doesn't inquire and the conversation flows easily. He even makes you laugh a time or two, which hasn't happened in weeks.

As the night goes on, you find yourself sitting closer and closer to the man, drawn in by how he reminds you of someone you dearly miss. It's entirely clear to you why you're attracted to the man, but you push all of those thoughts away, the alcohol working diligently to cloud your logic and judgment and all you can focus on is the man's lips.

Not even twenty minutes later, you're pulling him in by the front of his shirt, crashing his lips onto yours. His hands hold your waist securely, and his lips move in tandem with your own. The taste of sweetness lingers between the two of you. Your body moves on its own volition, and in the heat of the moment you find yourself practically sitting in the man's lap. Thankfully, the table you two are at is tucked away in the corner, but you're still entirely visible to everyone else. However, that doesn't seem to matter as you place kisses on the man's jaw and down to his neck.

His hands move from your waist up to the first button of your shirt where he expertly undoes it. Your wet lips place another kiss on the man's neck, just underneath his ear like you're used to doing with someone else, and the feeling of another button being undone makes you realize what's happening.

Backing away from the kiss abruptly, your heart drops to your stomach. Your fingers work quickly to clasp the buttons on your shirt and you get off of the man, who looks confused and hurt.

"I'm sorry, I can't- I shouldn't have..." You trail off, giving him no specific answer as you turn around and find Sarah.

She must have been able to tell from the look on your face that you're ready to leave. And thankfully she doesn't ask you a single question on the way back to your house. The entire trip back, you stare out the window and wonder why you let that happen, and how you could've let yourself kiss another man. But mostly you just think about how it should've been Spencer.

Sarah drops you off and wishes you a goodnight, and you half-heartedly tell her goodbye.

Your mind is too preoccupied as you go through your nightly routine and by the time your head hits the pillow, your thoughts have shifted from the unknown man's lips to Spencer's.

You remember how his hands would map out every curve of your body and how his lips would kiss your tender skin, as if you'd break if he wasn't careful. Spencer would always hold you close to him as he showered you in love and affection, his hands unable to get enough of you. Even if the two of you were relaxing on the couch, he would always find a way to touch you, whether that meant you were cuddled in his arms or barely touching his shoulder.

A lone tear drips down your face as you try to sleep, missing having Spencer beside you, missing the feeling of his arms around you, and you know you'll miss seeing his gemstone eyes first thing when you wake up. You mourn the relationship, and can't help but wonder if your actions tonight were the final nail in the coffin.

That night, all you can dream about is Spencer, and how in love you used to be.

- - - - -

Awaking earlier than wanted, Spencer rubs the sleep from his eyes the best he can. It's still dark outside, but he knows that he's not going to be able to fall back asleep. And even if he did, he knows that the only thing he will dream about is you.

The past few weeks all of his dreams have centered around you. At first, they were about how you two met and your first few dates. They were vivid, almost as if they were happening all over again. He could clearly see the tulips he picked for your first date, and he remembers the shade of lipstick you wore that brought out your eyes in the best way possible.

As he makes his way through his morning routine, he's distracted by the traces of you that remain in his apartment. You still have clothes in his dresser, your toothbrush still sits on his bathroom counter. And most noticeably, your scent still lingers on his sheets.

But, his apartment now has traces of JJ too. Her blonde hair sticks to the blankets draped over the couch, her perfume embedded in the material. She had left a hair tie on his coffee table and the mug she used for coffee sits untouched in the sink.

Spencer knows that her confession of love was mainly spurred on by a life or death situation, but he would be lying if he said it didn't reawaken repressed feelings. Back in his early days at the BAU, he had been head over heels for her, but he moved on when she got together with Will. And truthfully, when he met you it was the happiest he had ever been, and he was convinced that you were his soul mate.

That was until JJ told him that she loved him.

A heavy feeling of guilt has taken residence in Spencer's chest since you walked out of his apartment. He knew that you had every right to be upset, and truthfully he doesn't know if the two of you will ever reconcile. As you walked out of the door he wanted to stop you, to beg you to stay, but he knew he couldn't. He had to let you go.

Staring at the couch, he can't help but wonder if your relationship had died the moment he let JJ stay over, the moment she laid on his couch could've been the exact moment your relationship took its last breath. Had that one decision been the beginning of the end?

And he can't help but wonder why he agreed to let her stay in the first place, after a confession of that magnitude, and why he hadn't told you. Was it his subconscious way of admitting he also has feelings for JJ, and that by allowing her to stay in his home it was an acknowledgment of that fact? Had he not told you because of the feelings he harbors for her? Would telling you force him to confront those emotions?

No matter what it may have meant, he can't help but to regret it. The look on your face as you called him a lying traitor will forever be ingrained in his mind. Spencer had never meant to hurt you, no, he loved you dearly.

As each day passes by without hearing from you, Spencer wonders if things are truly over for the two of you. His heart aches from your absence and he yearns to have you back in his arms. But he can't help but feel guilty as he realizes that he may have some of those same feelings for JJ.

- - - - -

Months had gone by since you last saw Spencer, and you finally feel like you can begin to heal. It took some time for you to process what had happened, and now you've come to be at peace with his decision. If he wanted to search for something greater, and found it in her, then there's nothing you could've done.

On a regular routine again, you enter your favorite coffee shop on your way to your new job, needing the extra caffeine. The warm air inside greets you and the rich scent of coffee fills the air.

After you order your usual, you stand off to the side to wait, pushing yourself up against a wall so that other people have room to move around. The lightly falling snow outside catches your attention and from the warmth of inside you can appreciate the beauty.

The barista calls your name out as the front door bell jingles. Grabbing your drink, you relish in how the warmth gives life back to your fingertips before turning to leave, preparing yourself to brace the bitter cold that awaits you outside.

But as your eyes land on the people who had just walked in, it seems as if the wintry cold followed you in after all. Spencer stands at the counter with a blonde haired, blue-eyed, woman next to him who looks like she just walked out of a magazine. Their cheeks are rosy from the cold, but you feel yours drain of all color. And if that wasn't enough, it's like your feet have been superglued to the floor, forcing you to watch as he orders for her with a smile on his face.

It seems he found something greater after all.

After the initial wave of sadness washes over you, you feel a familiar fire within you. Jealousy is an ugly beast, but you can't help the way your eyebrows knit together as you watch them, your thoughts consumed with how that should be you next to him, how it used to be you.

In fact, your jealously goes so far as to create hundreds of impulsive plans to earn his attention away from her. If you spilled your coffee, surely that would do the trick. Or if you tripped on your way out, that would be sure to make him look. Even the fleeting thought of jumping from the roof makes an appearance; the only consequence you can think of is how he'd surely come running straight to you.

But your imaginative plans are all for naught, as they grab their drinks and leave together. She laughs at something he said as the door shuts behind them. And you're still stuck in the middle of the coffee shop with one question floating around in your mind.

Did he really choose her over you?

- - - - -

Staring out of your window that's been frosted over with fresh snow, you can't help but to ponder how exactly you got to be where you are right now. In three days it'll be Christmas, and you've never dreaded the holiday more than you do in this moment.

A few evenings ago you had been rummaging through your closet and found the gift you planned on giving Spencer this Christmas. It was simple, but you knew he'd love it. He had always worn a purple scarf during the colder months, and when you saw this one you just knew he needed it. It was another scarf, but the seamstress who was selling it offered to stitch something on the back of it, and so you had asked her to stitch your initials on the back, so that even while he was away on cases he still had a piece of you with him.

Now the gift lays wrapped on your coffee table, where it silently taunts you with thoughts of what could've been. You stare at it, wondering if you should give it away, throw it away, send it through the mail, or do nothing with it at all.

Unable to look at the box any longer, you take it and put it with the rest of Spencer's things you intend to give back to him soon. Having his belongings in your home is slowly starting to drive you mad, and you know that in order to have any shot of getting over him, it all has to be gone.

In a momentary burst of determination, you grab the box of his belongings that sits in the back of your closet and you take it out to your car, despite the fact that the air is so cold it burns your face and that the snow is coming down at a considerable rate. You figure he's had you in his grasp for too long now and it's time to start reclaiming your home, your life, and begin piecing together who you're going to be after Spencer Reid.

The box is haphazardly shoved into your back seat and your hand quickly grazes the side of a book he had left on your nightstand, and as your luck would have it, you managed to give yourself a papercut. You hold your hand out of the car so you don't get blood on any of his things before closing the door with haste.

Your eyes cast down at the bright, crimson red blood that dots the pristine snow below your feet. Drops of blood roll down your finger and drip from the tip, each drip creating its own prominent mark in the snow. And you can't help but feel like it's more than just blood on the snow, that somehow it symbolizes how you may have very well killed what remained of your relationship with Spencer.

But he gave you no other choice.

- - - - -

Your insides twist and turn with anxiousness as you park your car along the street of a familiar curb. Looking back down at your phone screen, you confirm that this is the time you're supposed to be here before getting out of your car and picking up the box from the back seat.

After Christmas you had sent Spencer a text asking if you could come by and get your things that you had left in his apartment, and thankfully he agreed. You hadn't told him that you were bringing his things, and he hadn't asked for them, but you figured it was just common courtesy to bring them anyways. Plus you can't stand looking at the box any longer, all it does it resurface memories of a better time, one where you were happy and in love. Neither of those things are true anymore.

Walking up the stairs, you remember how excited you were the first time to come over and how you were awestruck by how well he decorated for a man. Of course you added a few things here and there over the years, but soon there will be no trace of you left. Your heart sinks with the realization that Spencer's apartment will no longer be your second home, his arms will no longer be your safe haven.

Once you reach his door, you knock lightly. You had partially hoped that he would just leave your things in the hall, and that the exchange would be easy, but of course he wouldn't do that. And within seconds of knocking on the door, he answers. His hair is messy and he's opted for his glasses today, your favorite look on him. Swallowing hard, you hold the box out in front of you.

"I think this is everything." Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. He steps further inside his apartment,

"Come on in." He invites you, and you wonder if you should accept. You know that if you walk in that a plethora of memories will invade your mind, and you know that if you don't that you may never receive the closure you need. After a few moments of contemplation, you step inside.

You place the box on the ground and put your hands in your pockets as you look around. The decorations you had placed around various locations are no longer there adorning the shelves or the walls, your spare coat no longer hangs from the rack beside the front door, and your handwritten notes are no longer on the front of the fridge. You swallow again and avert your eyes, pleading with yourself to not cry in front of him. But as your eyes move elsewhere, you spot a photograph that still hangs on the wall in his living room.

It was a sunny day in the early spring, and the two of you had just celebrated your one year anniversary. The two of you agreed that a nice picnic would be more than enough of a celebration, and honestly you were just happy that he wasn't being dragged away on a case that day. The two of you laid side by side on the blanket in the plush grass, content with one another's presence, fingers interlaced as his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand. Before the sun went down you had asked him to take the picture, and you always loved how bright his smile was that day.

"This should be everything." He comes back into the entryway with a box in his arms. You spot every little decoration you had ever brought over, along with your clothes that you had almost forgotten about. Spencer places the box on the ground as well, and you nod, clearing the emotion from your throat.

"Thank you." You say and go to pick up your box and get out of his apartment. Truthfully, there's a part within you that wants him to beg you to stay, you hope that he will profess his undying love for you and that you won't have to leave.

No matter how heartbroken you are over his decision, you know that you would take him back in a heartbeat. Your soul still aches for his touch and you're not sure that feeling will ever fade. The intensity with which you love him is passionate and all encompassing. For just another moment in his arms, you can't even begin to list everything you would give and sacrifice. His hugs were always the most comforting, his words always sweet and honeyed, his lips always soft.

Until they were for the blonde-haired woman who came in and took everything from you.

Once the box is in your hands, you give him a weak smile and are almost brought to tears just by looking at his face. Your sweet, sweet Spencer is so close yet has never been farther away. Feeling tears well in your lash line, you commit to memory just how beautiful he is for what is very well the final time you'll ever see him.

In an instant, flashes of what your future could've been runs through your mind. You see the two of you hand in hand at the end of an aisle, long nights of waiting for him to come back home only to be greeted with the most loving kisses, and countless mornings waking up in his arms. You were prepared to give him everything, but now you're left with nothing except the memories of when he still loved you.

Giving him one last chance to say something, your hope begins fizzling out. There's only one thing you want to hear him say, and you're coming to understand that you'll likely never hear those words come from his mouth.

When it's clear that there's nothing left to say, you turn and open the front door. Before the door gets closed on you, you turn to look at him just one last time. You think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you can almost swear you see a tear fall from his eye.

"Goodbye, Spencer." You say as a lone tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, unable to keep them at bay any longer. Feeling your bottom lip beginning to tremble, you make yourself walk away before you have a full breakdown in the hallway right in front of him.

The ride back home is silent, except for the occasional sound of your sniffles. Before the exchange of belongings, you had held out hope that it meant that there might still be hope. But now there's nothing left to give you hope.

It seems things are really over now.

- - - - -

Spencer's phone lights up on his counter, catching his eye as he was walking by. Glancing at it quickly, he sees your name attached to the message. He picks the phone up and reads the message that reads less like a text and more like a cordial email.

"Hi, hope all is well. I was wondering if there is a time that I could come by and collect the rest of my things?"

The words make his heart sink, but he replies and lets you know when he'll be home. He knew that this day would eventually come, but he wasn't prepared for it to be so soon. Placing his phone back down on the counter, he looks around and notices just how many traces there are of you everywhere he looks.

In every part of his apartment he can easily recall a memory the two of you made there. The kitchen is where he remembers making cookies together on a friday night, the living room reminds him of the times you fell asleep in his lap, and the bedroom reminds him of all the mornings he was lucky enough to be awoken by your gentle kisses.

But he respects your wishes and begins collecting your things, committing each one to memory. With each and every little item he packs away, he finds himself becoming more and more angry with himself. He can't understand why he jeopardized the love of his life for JJ. Sure, he thought he loved her, and the two of them had spent extra time together after her confession, but after you left Spencer realized that he could never love JJ the way he loves you. And so he came to the painful conclusion that he could only ever love JJ as a close friend, but only after breaking your heart and shattering your relationship he cherished so dearly.

Spencer knows that he has forfeited every right to be with you by making those series of poor decisions but it doesn't make it any easier for him to accept.

As he packs away the rest of your things, he finally finds himself at his dresser, where some of your clothes remain. He remembers the day you brought some of your wardrobe over and he was happy to make room for you. You had told him that by keeping some of your things here that you two could spend more time together as you wouldn't have to go back and forth between homes when staying over or going out. But he never needed convincing, he would've let you do whatever you wanted as long as it kept that smile on your face.

And all too soon, you show up at his apartment with a box in your arms, filled to the brim with his belongings. As soon as he sees your face behind the door, he feels like he wants to collapse to his knees and beg for you to forgive him.

But instead, he gathers your things and returns them to you when you should be staying here. You should be wrapped up in his arms for the rest of the night. He watches as the photo on the wall catches your eye, and even he can't help but to look at it as well.

Seeing the two of you so happy together in a moment frozen in time makes his throat constrict with emotion, and he feels the tears well in his eyes. What he wouldn't give to be able to see you smile like that again, to hold and love and cherish you until the end of time.

Instead, he watches as you turn and leave his apartment. The realization hits him like a brick wall that this could very well be the last time he ever sees you, and he can't keep his composure. A tear escapes his eye and falls as you turn around and wish him farewell.

Once the door closes behind you, Spencer finally collapses to his knees, sobs wracking through his body while he mentally curses himself for not saying more, for not fighting harder for you.

His chest hurts from crying, but he can't find it within himself to care about anything other than you. He wishes he could forget, things would be easier that way. But instead he's sentenced to a life where he has no choice but to remember everything.

That night while he lays in bed, throat raw and eyes sore, all he can think about is you. The way you fit in his arms like you were made just for him, how you would rake your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, and how sometimes, after particularly hard cases, you would hold him close.

As the hours pass and he gives into sleep, he can almost swear he feels your arms wrapping around him while you whisper for him to "come here", like you always did. Your voice was always soft and understanding as you took him into your warm embrace.

But now the room feels colder than it ever has before, and there's nobody to blame but himself.

- - - - -

A warm spring breeze blows your hair and with it comes the sweet smell of budding flowers. The sun is shining brightly through the puffy, white clouds and for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace.

Once the snow had melted and signs of life began springing back up, it seems your spirits rose as well. Sure, some days are harder than others and you still miss Spencer, but you're able to live without the constant ache in your chest.

You've taken the time to reflect on what happened, and you have come to accept that there was nothing more you could've done. You had given him your entire heart, but that just wasn't enough for him. He searched for something better, something greater, and it seems like he found it. You only hope she makes him happier than you could have, and that she loves him well.

But no matter how hard you work on healing yourself, you can't silence the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you of just how badly you want to see him again. You yearn to even just see him from a distance, and you desperately crave to hear him tell you that he still loves you.

You wish that he could be here sharing this wonderful afternoon by your side, hand in hand and you wish that things had played out differently. Maybe you two would've been engaged, or even married, by now. After all, tomorrow would've been your five year anniversary.

No matter how much time passes you still don't think you're ready to try to get back out there, much to Sarah's disproval. It just wouldn't be fair to the other man, the way you would still see parts of Spencer in him.

With a sigh, you can't help but think of what could've been, how your future with Spencer could've been filled with happiness, laughter, love, and so much more. But no, instead you sit alone on a bench in the middle of a busy park.

After hours of soaking in the warm sun, you decide it's time to go back home. As you walk down the street you recount memories you've thought of a hundred times before and wonder if maybe your path will cross with Spencer's again someday.

Before you open your front door you stop and take a deep breath. The looming anniversary date has made you a touch more melancholy and sentimental than usual and after a long day of reflection, you're finally ready to admit something to yourself that you've been pushing away for far too long.

It's over now.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #mgg #taylor swift #hurt/no comfort #angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #jj jareau #taylor swift inspired #Spotify

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1moreff-creator · 3 months ago

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DRDT CH2 PT2: Full Analysis

While CH2 Part 2 was releasing, I chose to make liveblog-reaction posts to the episodes to record my immediate thoughts for posterity, but that meant that actual, coherent analysis was pushed to the side in favor of me freaking out over… everything going on. But goddamn; even accounting for recency bias, this might just be my favorite trial of any DR style killing game I’ve ever seen (though admittedly I'm working with a small sample size). So I felt it merited a bit more… cohesive analysis. That’s what this post is!

WARNING: This post is around 28k words long. Do not click "read more" unless you're ready for lag, and make sure to take breaks while reading if needed.

Spoilers for DRDT CH2. CW: Murder, suicide, hanging, execution, gun violence, self-harm, blood, stabbing (fork).

(Btw you can find my immediate reactions in my post masterlist. Not linking each individually here because I hit Tumblr's 100 link limit. I know, I know)

How do I even structure this? I guess I’ll start with the actual case itself, then go character by character because WOW.

Also, I hope you forgive that I can't put images for every referenced piece of dialogue (Tumblr 30 image limit when I catch you...), so I'll save them for when they're necessary and instead add links to the referenced quote in the episode.

The Case

Although I’ve made many posts talking about this damn thing, I don’t think I’ve ever expressed just how cool the actual mystery is. The evidence is all there from the beginning bar the note and alibis, introduced in a way that doesn’t make the method obvious, but that still allowed the audience to figure out the main aspects without much issue. Everything follows logically, and while there’s a few things that ended up being less important than some expected (that glove will haunt the fandom forever I fear), everything got explained in what I consider to be a pretty satisfactory way. It wasn’t obscenely complex or crazy, but I consider the method to be just right for a chapter 2 case.

Oh and the Nico case was cool too, even if half the shit in that crime scene will haunt me forever. Why were there two weights off to the side-? not important.

If there’s one critique I can give the actual discussion of the case (and this is legitimately the only real critique I have of this entire set of episodes), I’d argue that the way the method is presented is… weird. Like, I get why, DRDT is clearly more focused on character conflict than the murder mystery aspect, but there were still a lot of moments where it felt like Teruko’s thought process wasn’t explored properly, to the point where it sometimes felt like Teruko just… magically got the answers whispered to her by the ghost of Kirigiri.

As an example, take the ball of clothes over the rafters. Ace mentions the issue of getting the rope up there, and Teruko immediately jumps to the right conclusion of the seemingly completely unrelated ball of clothes.

To illustrate why this feels weird, let me tell you what my thought process was when I came up with the theory (because again, the evidence was laid out well enough that I did manage to call this, even if I got a fair bit of other stuff wrong). Obviously it's not the only admissible thought process, but it's a good example to see how I feel the presentation of evidence should have been handled.

We know Arei was hung from high up (Veronika’s account) -> We can confirm something happened on the rafters because the lights are broken -> Brainstorming how that could have happened (screening room connection? Secret ladder?) -> Perhaps something was thrown up there with the rope attached -> Ball of clothes.

In the series, however, we get:

Arei was probably hung from high (Veronika’s account) -> Discussion continues, literally the entirety of Nico's situation gets explained -> Ace brings up the issue for the first time like three years later-> Teruko immediately points to the ball of clothes -> The lights are only mentioned after.

You get what I'm saying? The progression doesn't feel as natural, because we immediately jump to the conclusion without discussing the evidence that leads to it. This also happens with things like the pulley method, where Teruko explains everything before bringing up the tape on the spinny thing, which is the only thing implicating said spinny thing in the method. And I feel like the reason quite a few people felt there should be more to the case is because the evidence wasn't presented properly.

That said, this is an extremely minor point. Again, DRDT is more focused on character drama than murder mystery, so I don’t particularly mind if I can nitpick a few things in the writing surrounding the mystery solving.

And oh boy, was there character drama this trial! Thank the gods I’m only covering Part 2, I think I’d die if I tried to talk about the entire trial as a whole.

Character Analysis

I’ll go in order, starting with the characters I feel had the least prominence, and making my way to the ones who really stole the spotlight this part.

Mai Akasaki

No content lol. Though this is probably a good time to mention that, in this post, I'll mostly ignore theorizing related stuff and focus more on straight up character analysis, even if the two sometimes intersect. Game Theory-like speculation will mostly be saved for dedicated posts :p

Xander Matthews

He got mentioned, but he’ll come up in David’s section so. Skipping him.

Min Jeung

Well, there were a few references. Such as:

Min: I'll fix your mistake! - Teruko: But I'll fix my mistake.

Something something, David-Xander vs Teruko-Min parallels, etc. And also:

I like the visual symbolism that the images are effectively flipped (Teruko on the left-Teruko on the right and hugger on the right-hugger on the left, Teruko facing the camera-Teruko facing away), because the situations are inverted. In Min’s, the culprit hugs Teruko after she dooms them to their fate, and in Eden’s, a non-culprit hugs Teruko as she starts defending them. I did notice on first watch, but didn’t say anything because at the time it was still possible Eden was the culprit. Alas, the symbolism is consistent!

There's only one last thing to mention about Min. One tiny, itsy bitsy detail that probably has no lore relevance whatsoever.

MonoTV [2-16]: Now loading the default XF-Ture Tech personality drivers.

Min [BE1]: But one day, we were visited by the founder of that big company, XF-Ture Tech. He told my parents that he would sponsor me and pay for all of our expenses.

Oh yeah, MonoTV was created by the same company that sponsored Min as the Ultimate Student! Hey, what the fuck?

We'll get into it more later in the (I cannot believe I'm about to say this) MonoTV section (or rather the post linked to in said section), but MonoTV seems to have been created specifically for the killing game. This means there's a very real chance XF-Ture Tech is behind all this. That paints the sponsorship of Min as a strikingly shady thing (well, more than it already was), to the point there's a very real chance Min is straight up connected to the origins of the killing game, if not outright the mastermind. We'll have to see how this plays out later, since right now, we're still lacking a lot of critical context.

But hey! We might get more Min content in the future! I, for one, am very, very excited.

Charles Cuevas

Not too much character insight on this one, but he got a couple of cool moments. As always, funny, bounces well off Whit, very helpful in the trial, weirdly knowledgeable about jockeying (or maybe he just, like, thought about it, it’s not like most of what he says aren’t conclusions anyone could arrive at by simply knowing what horse racing is), and-

Charles [2-15]: I'm the only person reasonable enough to make that sort of judgement call. Everyone else who does so is being biased to the point of idiocy.

-it’s nice to see his pridefulness didn’t just go away after CH1! He’s neat :)

J Rosales/Moreno

Half of her dialogue this part is just her talking about how murder is bad. It’s fine, it’s just odd.

I guess if you want someone to point out murder’s bad, J’s one of the only real options, isn’t she? You need a confrontational character (so no Eden or Rose or Whit), who wouldn’t be a hypocrite (this eliminates Nico, Ace and Levi, arguably Hu since she defends Nico), who is mentally stable enough for their opinion to be held in high regard (this eliminates Arturo, David and Veronika, alongside half the cast), who is willing to derail the trial to talk morality (eliminating Charles and arguably Teruko), and who isn’t dead or missing (like Xander, Arei, Mai or Min).

Wait that’s the whole cast. Holy shit she actually is the only one that makes sense to be murder bashing how is this even possible.

…Regardless, you could still argue that you don’t need someone constantly pointing out murder’s bad, meaning there could very much be a deeper reason J is being so vocal about it. Apart from possibly being setup for her to be primary support moving forward, I personally think all this points to her just having a very strong set of beliefs regarding most things, which we could already kinda infer anyways.

Or maybe Mariabella killed a guy. Yeah, sure. Why not?

Veronika Grebenshchikoba

There were certainly a couple interesting Vero moments here, which is always fun. It was finally confirmed her secret was, as most theorized, the “took on your talent to distract yourself from the need to hurt yourself for fun” one. I mean, I feel like everyone called that one from the moment the curtain fell away from the screen with the motive secrets, but you get the idea.

We also learnt she had a pact with Hu regarding their secrets, which I would love to learn the details of, and definitely makes me interested in where these Recap Foils are going, as well as-

Veronika [2-13]: After all, my own so-called secret isn't even the worst thing I've done. Isn't that so utterly disappointing of this motive?

… whatever the hell that means. Why’s she gotta be so ominous? (I love this about her).

The last notable scenes to point out are all the scenes where she's... Veronika, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Her psychoanalysis of Levi will probably wait for when I talk about him, and her help during the time Teruko was figuring out the murder method is appreciated, but specifically about her:

Veronika [2-15]: Swallow your pride and say that you're too weak, too stupid, and too incompetent to perform this murder. Accept the fact that no one thinks highly of you. Or defend your dignity at the risk of admitting that you're perfectly capable of committing this murder and continue to be our number one suspect.

I just think the voice acting in this line in particular is very auditorily pleasant so I wanted to point it out :D

But Episode 15 actually has a much more insidious Vero moment, which I felt was way more noteworthy. After Ace admits to the crime, he goes on his whole speech, which includes directly calling out Veronika's words as part of the reasoning why he killed, there comes a point when Ace calls himself a "piece of shit", and no one denies it. When that happens, Veronika smiles.

Veronika: Oh my. How tragic.

She is such an awful person, just such a piece of garbage. I adore her.

Anyways, my appreciation of actually horrible women aside, we need to discuss the biggest question she leaves us. And that is "hey, why is her reaction to Ace's execution and Levi's almost death so different from her reaction to Min's death?"

Veronika [about Min, 1-12]: Min died in such a cruel manner...

Veronika [about Levi, 2-16]: If Levi dies because of this... Kehehe... I'm sure I'll miss him, but... This is quite a way to go. I can't say I wasn't entertained.

Veronika [about Ace, 2-16]: Aha... Ahaha... How incredible...

So, after considering it for a little bit, I think we're lacking a little bit too much critical information on Veronika to confidently state why the hell her reaction is so different, but I can come up with a few different possible answers. I'll list them in ascending order of likeliness in my opinion, and we'll see just how wrong I am once we get more insight on her!

+Veronika cares more about Levi than Ace, and more about Min than Levi. This is because she just said Ace's execution was "incredible," while she mentions she'll miss Levi, and obviously looks genuinely distressed over Min. I see no actual reason to believe this, though, because I... don't think Vero and Min ever even interacted beyond the trial? So unless we're pulling some very strange Veromin agenda out of nowhere (or Veronika is Mai Akasaki), this doesn't work imo.

+Veronika was acting in T1, but doesn't care by the start of T2. Possible, and it's true that Vero was more self-conscious about freaking people out in CH1, but I'm not sure if there's enough evidence to truly say she was only pretending to be distressed by Min's death.

+Veronika's reactions are based on the executions (and execution attempt) themselves, not anything else. This is consistent with her specifically reacting to the way Min died ("Min died in such a cruel manner") rather than the death itself. She specifically says she'd be entertained by Levi's death, and is clearly entertained by Ace's. So, I guess she just finds Min's execution particularly cruel/boring? Does she... have wolf related trauma? Test related trauma? I don't know, but I think this fits decently well, so.

+Veronika's slowly getting worse. A logical conclusion from the fact that she reacted one way in T1, and another literally four days later. Certainly possible given her analysis of people shattering in the killing game, so for now this is the interpretation I'm going with.

Whit Young

.... Sigh. You're not even that important to this part, how are you still gonna require so many words of analysis?

Alright, let's start with the pretty infamous scene where he talks about drop hanging. I do want to make one thing clear; just because Whit talks for a pretty long time about drop hanging, it doesn’t mean he actually says anything particularly groundbreaking. Like, everything he says is very logically sound, which means they’re conclusions anyone could have drawn.

Like me. Because even though I don’t think I wrote them down explicitly, I did more or less arrive at the same conclusions as he did, and I don’t have any experience with drop hanging. I’m clarifying this because I’m on enough lists as it is just by firefoxing shit like “can turpentine knock you out” and “how long do people pass out after being strangled” I do not need any more allegations on my person!

That said, I am also not a fictional character who exists within a story which follows narrative conventions (as far as you know, anyways). Whit is. And it’d be silly to instantly dismiss that the dev specifically chose Whit, a character who is otherwise not the most helpful in trials, to be the one to deliver this explanation, and without any interruptions no less. Even Teruko and Charles usually have one character or another finishing their explanations, like Levi when Teruko explained the slingshot or… Levi when Charles talked about jockeying. Huh, Levi kinda goated?

Thus, because the dev specifically chose Whit to give this explanation with no interruptions, we can infer that he may have a special connection to drop hanging. Given what we know, I find it likeliest that his mother committed suicide by hanging. At present, I don’t find much evidence that he would have attempted himself, though…

You know how Whit dyes his hair to look like his mom’s? And how Color Theory in LGI gives him (among other stuff) “degraded copy”, likely in reference to this? If his mother killed herself via hanging, do you think he would try to replicate that, too?

Food for thought. Again, not much reason to believe it yet.

Other than that, there are... the allegations. The part started strong with MonoTV stating it let slide a rule violation because it was funny (especially weird given what we learn in 2-16, but Whit's not the only rulebreaker in the cast so we're chilling). And then, 2-16 happened.

Whit [seven seconds before Teruko's execution, 2-16]: Charles, stop talking and cover your eyes! [...] Whit [post Levi shooting]: Ah, crap. The smell of blood is really strong. Even though I told [Charles] not to look, he still...

And, of course.

Whit: ...

Of course.

Alright, so let me start by the elephant in the room. The hand behind the back. The moment the cast learns the elevator doors won't open, we see Whit with his left hand behind his back. Many have assumed this means, understandably in my opinion, that he may be holding a remote control of some kind to close the elevator. In other words, Whit's the mastermind. But, while I consider him one of if not the best mastermind guess in the market, I don't think this is good evidence of it.

You see, there's no reason to believe such a remote would be required. By all accounts, it should be MonoTV's AI who is keeping the elevator closed with no need for outside interference, regardless of who the MM is. There is simply no reason to believe that any MM would have an "elevator manual stop" or even an universal remote (apart from J!MM for obvious reasons), because it should be MonoTV who is running this stuff.

As an aside, I will point out that, per the CH1 QnA, every character is right-handed apart from Teruko (lefty) and Arei (ambidextrous). You could use this to argue Whit shouldn't be doing anything with his left (the hand behind his back), but that's not good reasoning, as the sprite might just be drawn that way for aesthetic reasons and you're supposed to ignore handedness. Eden also used her left to rip out Xander's eye, apparently. I haven't seen anyone bring it up, but I have made this mistake before with a certain bat swinging Milgram prisoner, so I'm saying this to avoid others making the same mistake.

That clarified, however, the first point is still valid. Although I consider it perfectly possible, at present I do not believe Whit is holding anything behind his back.

Why does he pose like that, then? To answer that, perhaps it'd be better to answer what the deal with his other behavior is.

Because it's weird, right? Whit focuses on Charles even when everyone else, Charles included, are fretting over Teruko and Levi. And then, despite being able to brush off things like Levi's secret confession and Min's execution with nothing but a "that's wack," joking about rewatching said execution, etc., somehow the elevator being closed is what finally gets him to bring out the breakdown sprite?

Well, yes. And this shouldn't be all that surprising, imo. Because everything about Whit's reaction is perfectly in line with his previous behavior. Not to say it isn't weird (it is), just that it's weird in the way Whit's always been weird, and not in any new special way.

This is because every part of this reaction comes from the already established way Whit deals with tragedy; he avoids it, and moves on. You'll immediately think of Whit's mom when I say that, the way he omits her death whenever he speaks of her to the point he genuinely forgets that's a thing until a few seconds after the secret Rose received was brought into the conversation, but there's more examples that are actually closer to this situation. In particular, I want to direct your attention to the investigations in both chapters so far.

For the first trial, Whit spends literal hours hanging out with Charles while the Chemist has a breakdown, to the point he almost didn't investigate at all. This is excusable, of course; he was helping someone in need, and the culprit was thought to be obvious enough that investigation wouldn't be necessary.

The second, though, is perhaps a bit stranger. First, Whit doesn't look closely at Arei's body because he was busy comforting Eden, apparently. Alright, fine. But, hey, how did he try to comfort Eden after everyone started to filter in?

Whit [2-8]: There, there. Pat pat. Do you want to sit down somewhere else?

He immediately wants to leave the room. But, he's still trying to help Eden; maybe he's projecting? Because he'd want to leave the room if a loved one died, so he's asking Eden if she wants to do it?

Except, he does leave the room. He doesn't have any other lines in the playground past this point, and then he starts investigating with Charles, the one dude he knows won't enter the scene of the crime.

And you know when he splits off from Charles?

Whit [2-8]: If you're worried about Rose tampering with evidence, then all you need is another witness to watch over her, right? I can do that, since I'm here. I mean, unless Charles needs me for something.

My guy will genuinely do anything except investigate the playground.

And that's where the pattern starts to be noticeable. Whenever something bad happens, Whit finds any excuse he can to distance himself from the situation. And to be clear, they're usually good excuses; it makes sense for Whit to do all this in a vacuum, it's just odd that he constantly finds them. Other examples include him bringing up alibis when the note first comes up, and then, when he's pressed about it:

Whit [2-9]: Eden has [the note]. Ask her.

He doesn't even... want to have the responsibility of the note? Admittedly that could be for other reasons, but still.

With this pattern of avoidance in mind, the things he says in 2-16 are perfectly explainable. Instead of focusing on Teruko's incoming execution or Levi's injuries, he chooses to focus on Charles, because that's easier for him. He's once again finding an excuse to look away from tragedy.

By the way, I don't want to make it sound like Whit doesn't care about Charles as anything but an excuse to get out of thinking of bad stuff. It's pretty clear a big part of why Whit does the shit he does is that he genuinely cares about Charles as a friend (crush?). Whit probably does want to help Charles just for the sake of helping him, but it does come with the benefit of helping Whit avoid stuff he doesn't want to think about.

This whole avoidance thing is also why Whit is so perturbed by the elevator. When Levi gets shot, Whit probably hopes that they get to leave the trial room quickly to take care of him, at which point Whit can just avoid the situation entirely by just sticking to Charles like usual. But they can't. The elevator is shut. Not only does Whit probably realize that means they have to watch the execution, but it also means Whit is not able to get out of the room where a guy is actively dying, and sticking to Charles only lets him ignore the situation so much.

Why does he have his hand behind his back? Well, this is gonna sound like I'm on anti-Whit!MM copium (I swear I like the theory well enough), but I think he's simply balling up his fist out of stress. It's just that Whit "I don't want to talk about any problems ever and don't want anyone to ever know when I'm suffering" Young is instinctively hiding it so no one sees any sign that he might not be okay.

Does that make sense? Barely? Well, it's not like "emergency elevator shutdown button" is particularly more believable in my eyes, so that's the answer I'm going with for now.

Anyways. Jesus Christ Whit you're barely even relevant to this part how the fuck did you still force me to write so much about you.

Arturo Giles

I have less to write about Arturo than Vero and Whit because he's a bit more straightforward, but I'm still putting him here because he was more directly important this part. Speaking of, what notable things did Arturo do these episodes? Ah, right.

Arturo [2-12]: You shut your whore mouth!

"I thought you were only doing necessary imag-" This one's necessary shut

I'm using this to talk about the big speech about his talent, that he started studying plastic surgery when he was 12 and that it's impressive he's a plastic surgeon this early in his life. Props to dev for addressing this, I know some people are irked when characters are in the medical field from way too early in life without good justification like this. The fact he started so young also adds to the theory that Arturo's home life sucked, because it'd be really odd for a 12 year old to already be planning to leave otherwise.

The way the cast keeps insulting his skill, even though as he's said several times over the course of the series, the shit they expect him to do is way beyond his area of expertise, is a good way to build up to the way the cast also dismisses Ace's intelligence and skills later.

Other than that, there was one more moment when Arturo took part of the spotlight. When Levi gets shot, despite everything that happened earlier, everyone still turns to Arturo to save the Stylist. This leads to one of the most human moments Arturo's given us since 2-10:

Arturo [post Levi shooting, 2-16]: I--! I'm not that kind of surgeon! I've told you, over and over, I have no experience with saving lives! Something like this! There's no way I can do it--

Apart from the stellar voice acting that cannot be pointed out enough times, Arturo's doubt over Levi's condition is certainly a good setup for CH3, I'm really interested in how he'll handle this. Especially because...

Do you think he'd think of Felicity, looking at Levi like that? Because just like Arturo ignored Felicity's feelings (to an extent) in pursuit of his dream, he also neglected to study the more standard medical knowledge in favor of becoming a plastic surgeon faster, and now he needs that standard medical knowledge to save Levi's life. Food for thought.

Arturo is definitely an interesting character to watch out for moving forward, he's certainly in for a very curious CH3. Final note:

Arturo [to Levi, 2-13]: How could you simply *forget* that you murdered your own family member?

Get it because the death of Felicity haunts him even though he didn't kill her himself- Man I love recap foils.

MonoTV

I cannot fucking believe that this hunk of metal is getting its own section, but it is. 2-16 what an episode you are.

Thankfully, I've already expressed most of my thoughts about this damn thing in this linked post, so I'll just refer you to that one instead of writing it all again. As a summary, there's quite a few lore implications to the fact that we now have a clearly stated purpose for MonoTV, a goal for the killing game, a connection to XF-Ture Tech (because MonoTV seems to have been specifically created for the game), and I'm really wondering why the hell the default XF personality seems to care so much about Teruko and where that could lead to in the future. Also, very curious where the theme of fate will be taken with it, as well as where dev is planning to take the fact that it seems to have feelings of grief and pain and maybe even cares about Teruko??? Or has compassion in general??? What is wrong with this dog-

Rose Lacroix

Btw I greatly appreciate everyone who colors her name rainbow, I see you and you're valid for it. I need to color code my highlighting though, and if I have to do rainbow for every word I highlight I will actually die. Also I would need to put in an epilepsy warning in my posts lol

Rose got a few nice lines, but when it comes to her, there's one big moment that's really on everyone's mind.

Rose [2-14]: Has it really gotten this bad? I think my brain is falling apart. I can't even recall what day it was when that happened. Levi: You can't remember? I was under the impression that your memory was the best out of everyone here. Rose: It's true that I remember everything I see. But that means that most of my memories are meaningless junk. The kind of thing a normal person would forget without a second thought. But I can't forget. My brain won't work the way I want it to. I can't draw associations so easily. Everything reminds me of something meaningless, and I get distracted. And the worst thing is that I remember it all in perfect detail. Xander's body. Min's execution. I can't even look at Teruko without seeing blood. I know I'm supposed to remember everything. I know I'm supposed to be smart. I know I'm supposed to be helpful. Yet I'm not. I... I'm sorry for being useless. Maybe if I tried harder, if I just got over myself--

Do I... need to talk about this, beyond pointing out how good the VAing is? Everything about it is heartbreaking, but pretty straightforward. It's an extension of the conversation she and Teruko had in 2-5, where we also throw in Rose's growing self-doubt and self-blame over everything that's going on around her. It adds into the theme of this cast pushing expectations on each other (like wanting Arturo to be a better doctor or Ace being too stupid to do a murder), throws in some parallels to Teruko and Hu and Eden (the self-blame sisters!!! *fire emoji* *fire emoji* *fire emoji*) and Xander (the survivor's guilt boy!!! *fire emoji* *fire emoji* fire emoji*), foils with J (J who rejects what others like Mariabella want from her VS Rose who internalizes the expectations and accepts the whole Spurling situation), there's the "a normal person would forget" wording that kinda connects her to Nico and Levi and David (the "feeling separated from other humans' experience" siblings!!! *fire emoji* *fire emoji* *fire-), obviously memory is connected with Charles and Teruko, etc.

You see why I don't always talk about parallels? I have to bring up every single character up every time because that's the shit that happens when your writing is this *fire emoji* *fire emoji* *fire emoji*.

The other thing is Nico, but maybe it's better to keep that for their section. Overall, just a fantastic feast for enjoyers of Rose angst.

Arei Nageishi

You know this trial went crazy when Arei got a whole ass character arc during it, and she's the dead one.

For this part in particular, the big Arei moment was obviously during 2-13, when we finally got to hear the end of the conversation between her and David. I'm not transcribing it, because I'm sure we all got the gist. Arei figured out one of the main themes of the chapter, that everyone is a flawed person, and that means that no one's ever too far gone. There's always a possibility of becoming a less shitty person, and that's sweet.

But beyond Themes, learning what Arei's mindset about good and bad people was really helps to understand her actions before this point, though I do find it interesting that the whole "sorting people into good and bad" mentality she had is actually pretty similar to the way she talks about people in her FTE, which is some fun consistency!

Arei [CH1 FTE]: Yup, that's right! I organize everyone I meet into categories of how I should bully them.

... Well the context's different but you get the idea.

Arei used this principle of "sorting" people into "good" and "bad" to deny herself the possibility of getting better, because trying to change is scary. Man I wonder why that rings a bell.

Teruko [to Whit, 2-2]: But if you start talking about me and saying that I could be a good person if only I make an attempt to change, then I'm going to stop you right there. Don't say that I could be a good person, because all it'll do is make me feel bad that I'm not.

Ah right because Teruko's a well written protagonist. And actually wait, isn't there someone else?

David [2-11]: "People can always change?" What complete bullshit. No one ever changes. People who are born lazy, useless and stupid will stay that way until they die. If you were able to "improve" yourself into a better person, then it only means you were a better person to begin with.

Ah right because David is a well written character. Carry on then.

I do wonder why she waited until night three after the motive handout to talk to David about it, though, instead of doing directly after the playground breakdown. Was it, like, she didn't want to confront it directly after and only got the motivation/courage/whatever after talking to Eden? And then couldn't find David until then? It's odd, but I imagine there's no, like, big reason behind it necessarily.

Eden Tobisa

Hey Eden sorry I suspected you as the killer for a year can we still be friends? :,)

There's two big Eden moments to take into consideration, one in 2-14, one in 2-16.

Eden [2-14]: Why... No one... believes in me... Why? I'm... Arei's killer? No... No way....... Hu: Eden? Please don't cry. Eden: This whole time I've been trying to hold myself together... because Arei died...... I wanted so badly for this all to be a dream, and for Arei to be alive and by my side.... But now, you all think I killer her? Why? I cared about her! Arei is... She could have been my friend! Why would I kill her?? Levi: Eden, please calm down... Eden: Why am I being accused of murdering Arei? I wanted to help her! I just wanted to be friends with her! Why would you say that I killed her? Is it because you think I hated her? That's not true! I didn't hate her! Teruko: Eden.

I'm gonna cut it off there and resume in a bit, partly so I can organize this better and partly to make absolutely sure I don't hit the Tumblr limit on characters in a single text block (because my entire blog is evidently dedicated to testing this hellsite's limits lmao).

There's honestly a surprising amount of nuance in this small breakdown. We start with re-establishing that Eden is someone who constantly tries her hardest to remain strong in the face of adversity, holding herself together as best she can when her newest friend just died and she's more or less blaming herself for it.

Then, while I always praise the voice acting (because it deserves it), I need to bring special attention to the sheer amount of emotion in that "Why? I cared about her!" Hearing Eden genuinely frustrated at the accusations on top of her sadness is heartbreaking, and just a wonderful display of humanity from a character who is at times almost inhumanly patient. Makes me feel bad for suspecting her, and she's fictional in our world!

On top of that, "she could have been my friend" is an interesting choice of words regarding Arei. This is where having hyper-analyzed all Eden lines comes in handy lol. Because taken at face value, it means that Eden recognizes that her relationship with Arei wasn't at a stage where she could genuinely called her a friend, given that as far as we know the last conversation they had was after the Arturo thing. Nice depth!

The rest is pretty standard, though again the phenomenal VAing still makes my heart ache. Continuing:

Eden: Teruko... I didn't kill Arei..... Do you believe me?! Teruko: Listen-- Eden: *sniff* I, I didn't do it! Please.... Believe me... This whole trial has been cruel to me.... Help me, Teruko... I can't stand it... I just wanted to help Arei.... I didn't kill her... Teruko: You know I can't just take your words at face value, Eden. Eden: Please, Teruko... You're my friend, aren't you? Friends help each other... So please, help me... I promise I didn't... I didn't kill her.... I'm innocent... Please trust me..... Please.....

AAAAAAAAAAA-

Okay with that basic reaction out of the way, because evidently the reactions didn't have enough "text screaming" for me to fully get it out of my system, this is just a really heart-wrenching scene. Just the combination of VAing, music and visuals, man... ouch. It's especially tragic when taking the following line into account:

Eden [2-3]: Teruko, relationships aren't transactional. It's not that I did something good for you that you should do something good for me.

The Eden hyperfocus comes in clutch again- Is it weird that being an Eden!Culprit believer for so long is making me appreciate her character more now that she's confirmed innocent? :v

Teruko has, up to this point, never outright claimed herself to be Eden's friend, at least not as far as I can recall. Hell, her lines following Eden's plea for help seem to completely disregard the idea.

Teruko [2-14]: So for now, I'm going to assume you're innocent. Eden: W-What? Really? Thank you so much, Teruko... Teruko: Don't... get me wrong. This isn't out of kindness or pity or anything else. This is only because you helped me in the last trial. I'm repaying your favor, and nothing else. That's why I'll trust you, just this once.

How much she means that is for the Teruko section. What's important is that this means that when Eden says "you're my friend, aren't you?", she is actively going against her claim that relationships aren't transactional. She expects Teruko to consider herself Eden's friend because Eden has done a lot of stuff to try to make that friendship work.

This. Is. Wonderful. Don't you love it when characters fail to uphold their beliefs when faced with a horribly stressful situation? Well, I love suffering, so I sure do! :D

To be clear, I'm not trying to paint Eden as a hypocrite or anything. She's right in saying that relationships aren't transactional, and is justified in asking Teruko to help her because she considers Teruko her friend, even if it's a slight contradiction. After all, what are humans if not a swirling well of contradictions, desperately arranging themselves like the magnetic moments of a metal to try to make the slightest bit of sense of a reality they hopelessly seek to understand-

Ehem. The point is I like Eden a lot :D

Speaking of wonderfully human moments, time to switch to the other big Eden character moment!

Eden [2-16]: This... This all could have been prevented, couldn't it? [...] Of course I know [we can't blame ourselves for Ace's murder]. Ace planned to kill Arei, and even before that, he was planning to kill me. Rose: Then how can you forgive him? Eden: I never said I forgave him. It's just that... The Ace that I met for the first time wasn't a murderer. I... I can't forgive him. He killed Arei, after all. She was innocent, and he killed her for unfair reasons. But... Those unfair reasons were unfair to him as well.

You know, we joke about how awesome it is that the entirety of the DRDT cast is mentally unstable (because it is), but it's also cool to see the one actually more or less functional member of society in the group being the voice of reason like this. Not to spoil anything, but I find her stance regarding Ace's murder as the most reasonable stance one could have, and it's always cool to see a character who has reasonable opinions every now and then. But having such an opinion is easy when you're outside the show and the characters are all pixels on a screen; the fact that Eden can still find it in herself to be charitable towards Ace's situation while not outright forgiving him for his actions is a really powerful statement about her strength and sense of morality. Eden could not stop catching Ws this part.

Anyways, here's a few more fun Eden moments this part gave us.

Eden [2-15]: Wait, but... Is Ace even capable of doing a feat of strength like that? He's injured, after all.

I just think it's sweet Eden tries to defend Ace even when she's the other prime suspect :)

Levi [2-13]: And if tomorrow it turned out you all had passed away, I'd care as much as if we had never met. Eden: But you're a good person. Why are you saying these things when it's clearly not true? You're so kind to everyone. You're always helping others out, even when it'd be easier not to. Like that time Ace almost died. You kept trying to help him, even if he always pushed you away. Isn't that what "a good person" does?

For all the Eden Ws, she had to take an Eden L. Come on, Eden, Levi doesn't need to actually care to be a good person, he just needs to do good things, you know this :(

It makes sense character-wise, though. Eden has a surprisingly strong belief system, which is heavily shaped by her emotional nature, so it makes sense that Levi's Deal of doing good things with no emotional attachment to them would throw her off.

Still cool of her to accept Levi as a good person even though she just learnt he killed four people, however. It's good characterization; despite her misunderstanding with the lack of empathy thing, she still chooses to judge Levi based on the things she's personally observed, as opposed to making assumptions over things she only has half the story for.

Man, she's just so mature and cool and awesome and not fucked up in any way! Now that the tape thing's been resolved, I can't think of a single thing that would make anyone think that she might be a little-

Ah. Right.

Well, as a first reaction, this is definitely an Eden W in the oh so prevalent... DRDT powerscaling scene? She apparently managed to slash at Xander's eye, twice, with a fork. And with her non-dominant hand no less!

So... what the hell am I even supposed to do with this? Unfortunately, we're currently missing gigantic amounts of critical information regarding this situation, meaning I can't for the life of me come to any conclusions, at least not confidently. I tried to look at the pre-prologue dialogue to see if I could find anything, but...

Ouch... I really wasn't expecting her to attack me like that. I made a massive mistake to trust them. I can't rely on anyone. All by myself... I have to end the killing game. And even if I can't do that... I have to kill Teruko Tawaki. No matter what.

Fuck am I supposed to gather from this.

Uh... someone told Xander that Eden would be down with whatever plan Xander had to end the killing game if he just showed her whatever documents we're seeing in the Bloody Hands scene??? And she got too scared and just stabbed him with a fork??? Who is the "them" who told Xander this, a group of people, or a single person and Xander's playing the pronoun game? Or was it Nico???

Nico [1-9]: Are you really using unclear pronouns for dramatic effect? That's such a cliche.

Fuck it, locking in Nico as the one who told Xander to talk to Eden, just because that's the funniest possible reason Xander could have used "they" there. I doubt it's true, but it's gonna feed my God complex if I get it right, so-

Yeah, in case it isn't obvious, I have very little idea what this scene could even be about. Very excited to see where this could go :D

Nico Hakobyan

Nico stole the show for practically half of 2-14, so it's natural we should start at the main event.

First, the soft confirmation that Nico really did attack Ace with a plan to get away with the murder and escape as the blackened, particularly framing Hu by using her wire. This... vaguely contradicts something they claimed earlier, so we gotta discuss the implications.

Veronika [to Nico, 2-9]: Is this what you were envisioning when you tried to kill Ace? That the trial would happen like this, but with Ace instead of Arei dead? Nico: I didn't... I never thought about it... I... I never should have... done that...

Were they just... lying here? Did they mean something else?

My best guess to explain this apparent contradiction is that Nico thought about the trial in a more... impersonal sense? Like, when planning to kill Ace, they figured they should try to hide that so they didn't go down with him, but sort of... ignored that winning the trial would kill everyone else? It's hard to describe, but that's what I get from that line as well as:

Nico [2-14]: I tried to kill [Ace] because I don't like [him].

When they say they "never thought about the trial," they probably mean that they never thought about the full implications of it, even though they did plan for it. They knew in some level they were supposed to hide the murder if they did it, but things like escaping the killing game and actually getting everyone else killed didn't fully register. This thought process makes sense in my mind, I hope it makes sense in yours because I don't know how to describe it any better :v

Second.

Eden [2-14]: That's- That's so cruel! Nico, why? Aren't we all friends? If something was bothering you, you could have talked it out with someone else you trusted? Nico: ... Someone I trust? What are you talking about? I don't trust anyone here.

Fantastic bit of characterization here. Nico, despite being relatively civil to anyone they're not actively planning to kill, apparently trusts no one. However, I want to explore what exactly that means. Because it's not like Nico is paranoid they're gonna get killed per say:

Hu [2-12]: Nico does have an alibi. I was having breakfast and tea with them in their room early in the morning as well. Drop it, Ace.

I can think of few better opportunities to kill someone than being alone with them, in their room, at around 7:30 AM when it's still officially nighttime. Nico, at least, trusts that Hu won't kill them, though whether that's because they're confident they could survive anything she tries or because they genuinely trust she wouldn't try at all is up in the air.

Point is, Nico is distrustful, but not as paranoid as, say, Ace. Because of that, currently, I believe Nico's claim that they don't trust anyone is an extension of things they've said before; that they prefer animals because people are unpredictable. Really, Nico's lack of trust being interpreted as "not trusting people to react to their concerns properly" is very consistent with the way they've acted in the past, particularly their reaction to getting forced into revealing their secret, so we probably shouldn't be surprised.

Nico [2-6]: I thought you would laugh at me. I was worried you would pick up rocks and start throwing them at me or pick up clumps of mud and start throwing them at me.

Next point:

Nico [2-14]: You all are right. I tried to kill Ace and pin the murder on Hu. What else should I say? Ace: W-- "What else should I say"?? You tried to murder me. You fucking tried to murder me! And after all's said and done, you can't even say something as simple as "sorry"?! Nico: ... I tried to kill you because I don't like you. Even now, there's still no use to try and pretend that I like you. If I say "sorry," you're still going to hate me.

... Yeah.

Nico [2-2]: If you're having dinner and want someone to pass the salt, you can say, "Please pass the salt," or you can say, "Give me the salt." One of those things is supposed to be more polite than the other, right? But why? They both mean the same thing. They're just slightly different mixes of words. It's like that. I don't understand why some mixes of words come off as "rude," and some don't, even if they mean the same thing.

I don't even think I need to explain this further. I think it's pretty clear why Nico wouldn't apologize to Ace. Nico's just not to into social conventions.

Except:

Veronika [2-15]: What's wrong, Ace? You seem stressed. [Your neck injuries] are only wounds. What's the issue? Could it be that almost being murdered has traumatized you a little bit~? Ace: You think?! You think that almost being killed could have maybe given me a little trauma!? Nico: ... [Whispered voice clip: "I'm sorry"]

This one's... odd. Nico doesn't say it loud enough for Ace to hear, evidently, so it's just a genuine reaction to the harm they've caused. What could have triggered this change? Uh... maybe a little extra trauma dump will help? Let's pick up after where we left off in 2-14.

Rose [continued]: D-Do you even regret what you did to [Ace]? Do you regret what you were planning to do to everyone else? Nico: O-Of course I regret doing it! I'm not Levi, of course I feel bad about something like that. I'm not heartless! Levi: Heartless? Nico: That was the worst choice I've made in my life. I wish I had never done that. But looking back, I still understand why I did. I... I just can't stand being treated like that. My teachers, my classmates, my father... I don't ever want to relive what they did to me. It's because of those kinds of people that I can't be happy with who I am. That's why I hate Ace.

Okay cut off there. First, interesting to see Nico calling Levi heartless. I've seen it brought up that it makes sense for Nico, who struggles to relate to other people on a good day, to latch onto any defense of their "normalcy" they can, including "I'm not the weirdest person here" despite how hurtful that can be to say. That's some neurodivergent on neurodivergent hostility right there! Fun to see characters being flawed in new and unique ways /gen.

Apart from that, there's some nice reveals to Nico's backstory, which are always welcome. We already knew Nico was harassed because of their identity, but now we have names (as in, identity of aggressors); teachers, classmates, and Nico's father. That obviously comes with a question; was Nico raised by a single father, or did they have other relatives who were more accepting? For now, we got no clue.

But that final line is important, because I believe it's what explains Nico's whispered apology in 2-15.

Nico [already written]: It's because of those kinds of people that I can't be happy with who I am. That's why I hate Ace.

Nico's apology comes after Ace explicitly mentions being traumatized over the murder attempt, in particular in regards to his neck wounds. This can be taken as Ace revealing he's not happy with a part of himself (scars) as a result of Nico's actions. When abstracted this way, the comparison to Nico's situation (unhappy with a part of themselves (gender identity) as a result of others' actions) is much clearer. Nico apologizes for accidentally causing Ace a comparable trauma to their own. Which... I think makes sense from their point of view? People apologize when they do something hurtful they didn't mean to; Nico meant to murder Ace, so no apology for that, but they didn't mean the trauma, so they say sorry for it. Not that Ace heard it, but you know.

... That's a weird ass thought process, but I think it makes just enough sense to explain the apology. Let's finish the 2-14 scene.

Nico [continued]: Even so... I'm not a child. I know that murder is wrong. I'm not the victim here. I know that it was dumb to resort to murder. I don't even know what I thought I would have accomplished back then. I mean, I started regretting it as soon as Eden and Teruko saw me. I don't expect you to forgive me. Very few people ever do. So I don't see the point in acting sorry. ... That's the entire truth of my murder attempt. I don't have anything else to say.

So... "I don't even know what I thought I would have accomplished back then" seems to corroborate what I said earlier about Nico not truly grasping the full implications of a trial while they planned the murder, which is nice.

Nico's attitude over this ("I'm not the victim here") is nice to see, and makes me very interested in where their arc is going to go from here. Especially since Nico maturely accepting the blame is already causing friction between them and Hu (even if Hu doesn't seem to notice), and will likely continue to do so in the future.

Hu [2-14]: You all are too cruel! None of you understand how much stress Nico was under! And yet you continue to insist on bringing this up. Can't you see that you're traumatizing them? Nico: Hu, I-- Hu: Don't worry, Nico, I'm on your side. I'll always defend you. I can be reliable for you. You trust me, right? Nico: ... I never asked you to defend me--

... We're gonna have to talk about this in the Hu section.

Finally, "I don't expect you to forgive me. Very few people ever do."

Nico, what the hell does this mean? What have you done in the past that requires so much forgiving? What in the [DR2 CH3 killer]-?

Unfortunately, this is one of those "we're missing critical information" situations when we can't even begin to speculate what, if anything, this is supposed to mean. We'll move on and patiently yet eagerly await elaboration.

There's one more big thing to bring up in respects to Nico, and that's... Rose. For who knows what reason, Nico never gives an explicit answer to whether they actually were interested in learning to paint or not.

Rose [2-14]: Did [Nico] even want to learn to paint? Or to be my friend at all? Or were they only using me as a tool for murder? Nico: ...

Regardless of what the answer is, that's kinda weird. I'm leaning "no, they didn't want to learn to paint," because it sure would be a hell of a coincidence that they just happened to gain an interest in painting just when they're planning a murder that happens to require a painting supply.

That said, Nico does still seem to somewhat care about Rose, and probably would like to be her friend. At least enough to eventually apologize to her out loud.

Rose [2-16]: [Ace]'s right. Only Nico took [the turpentine] from me, and I really doubt they gave it to Ace afterwards. Hu: You're always attacking Nico like this! Nico: It's the truth, though. And Rose is right. I kept it. I still have the turpentine in my room. I'm sorry.

And it's not like anything this chapter erased the FTE:

Nico [FTE]: I was going to thank [Rose] for hanging out with me. I really enjoyed her presence.

So, while I can't know for sure, I hope Nicorose can make a comeback, at least in time for Nico to die so dev can inflict extra psychological pain on Rose! :D

Final highlight:

Nico [to Levi, 2-13]: If you said you killed [your father] because you just didn't like him, I could understand that. But you're saying you forgot about taking a life...

Apart from Nico obviously projecting their own murder motives on other people, do we think Nico ever considered killing their own father? I doubt they actually did, else that would probably be their motive secret (provided it's not a Veronika situation where their secret isn't the worst thing they've done), but I could see them considering it given how they talked about him and Ace in the same breath, and... yeah Nico sure did want to kill Ace alright.

Hu Jing

Hu was quite fascinating this part, wasn't she? For someone that actually ended up having zero relation to the murder, she sure had a lot of important character scenes. Let's start with the confirmation of a particular theory that really helps understand her character better.

Hu [2-13]: I've been quite selfish this whole time, keeping my secret because I didn't want you all to think less of me. Most of all, I wanted to lie to myself and pretend that I had no ties to the person that I used to be. I wanted to believe that the past never happened. But that's just self-centered. I've always been a selfish person, haven't I? I should put those feelings aside and do what is right. No, I should have done this from the start. I will share my secret as long as you all promise to immediately move on. I have Veronika's secret, and she has mine.

Well that's just sad.

I don't think I particularly need to analyze this, it's all pretty explicit. Hu wants to be relied on because she feels useless if she doesn't provide guidance:

Hu [2-11]: I have to be the one to give everyone guidance. That's the only thing I can do. If no one relies on me, then I won't be useful anymore.

And if it comes out that she's attempted suicide, then in her eyes, that makes her less reliable.

(Obvious disclaimer is obvious, the character's views don't reflect my own, there's no shame in having attempted suicide or needing help to keep fighting it, etc.)

As a result, she dislikes the memory of that "hopeless child" who attempted three times, and wishes to avoid talking about it if possible. Metamorphosis (butterfly) and rebirth (water by her name being "still lake") symbolism pulling through.

Also, while there's many reasons someone could attempt suicide, that little "I've always been a selfish person, haven't I?", especially combined with other statements she's made in the past, heavily implies her attempts were a result of self-loathing :( . Thus why she so desperately seeks value in herself by helping others, which is sorta crumbling as everyone she put her faith on (David, Nico especially) starts to reveal themselves as not-that-great-people.

Hence why I'm worried we might see a fourth attempt in the killing game. Her secret quote seems to go against the idea, which combined with some of her statements in the series proper make me doubt it, but y'know... The precedent's there.

Anyways, I'm bringing this up first because, again, it helps understand her other actions this chapter.

Hu [to David, 2-12]: Unacceptable! What on earth [sic] is your problem? I have had it up to here with you! Because this killing game requires us to live, you think you should just reject that notion and kill us all? You lied to me, manipulated everyone, and tried to make us all commit mass suicide! You really are the lowest of human beings. You have no right to decide whether I, whether any of us, live or die, all because *you* feel like you have no chance! If you're so bent on dying here, then die! But don't you dare try and make everyone else die with you. If we decide to continue living, then we will. It is not and never will be your decision as to what happens with our lives. David: ... Rose: Wow. Hu can be scary. Hu: ... I'm sorry to everyone else. But I've lost my patience. I won't apologize to David.

(Obligatory props to VAing ofc)

I mean, yeah, it makes sense for someone who used to be suicidal to be mad at David's bullshit. Especially considering that, in regards to "you lied to me, manipulated everyone here," the line I mentioned before about providing guidance continues like this:

Hu [to David, continued from before, 2-11]: I have to be the one to give everyone guidance. That's the only thing I can do. If no one relies on me, then I won't be useful anymore. You knew how I felt, and yet you... You... You toyed with my heart! All that time you acted like you were encouraging us to reveal our secrets to "prevent conflict." That was all a lie!

Assuming the whole "You toyed with my heart!" thing isn't referring to a conversation we don't have information on (which, to be clear, is 100% possible), it's possible that at this point in the trial Hu felt bad for going along with David's plan, especially since she might have believed it directly led to Arei's death. I think it's worth noting that she's one of the two first person to speak after Ace confesses, and she asks if he did it because of the motive.

Ace [2-15]: I killed Arei. That's exactly right. Shit, it sounds really bad when I say it out loud. Eden: Why? Why did you kill her? Why would you do such a horrible thing? Hu: Did you kill Arei because of MonoTV's motive? Because you wanted to keep your "secret" hidden--

Which could be read as her trying to confirm whether or not going along with David's plan was a good or bad idea, maybe?

Admittedly, "going along with David's plan" in her case literally just means "she told David, Nico and Teruko that people used to call her Julia," which you could argue is too small for her to genuinely feel like she contributed, but keep in mind the "you toyed with my heart" line is directly before a line referencing the "reveal the secrets" plan. At the very least, she didn't go against it, not in a significant way anyways.

If I'm right to be reading these lines the way I'm reading them (which, again to be clear, might be wrong), then David purposefully used Hu's desire to help and be relied on to get her to agree with his plan, or at least not go against it, or at least Hu feels he did. Whether he intentionally targeted her, or if his methods to convince the others to convince the cast of revealing their secrets just happened to strike a cord (zither pun not intended) with Hu, is still unclear, but both are possible.

So she's already incredibly pissed at him for that, then he says he wants everyone dead, yeah my girl's got the right to go off.

Though, speaking of Hu blaming herself for what happened to an extent:

Hu [2-16]: Arei wasn't killed because of an accident. Bad luck or not, Ace had made up his mind to go through with this murder! So we can't possibly blame ourselves for failing to prevent something like that.

This is after Ace confirms that the motive and David's BS had nothing to do with the murder, so Hu can fully deny blame for what happened. Which is relatively fair, it's not like being mean to someone makes you guilty if they then choose to kill someone, but it's also presumably really important for her mental stability.

Did any of that make absolutely any sense? Maybe. Hopefully.

And that's just all the Hu-only stuff. Because a big part of her character this chapter was defending Nico far beyond what anyone could possibly see as reasonable. I'll bring back the example I gave before, because I think it's by far the most extreme.

Nico [2-14]: Someone I trust? What are you talking about? I don't trust anyone here. Hu: Stop! Just stop it! You all are too cruel! None of you understand how much stress Nico was under! And yet you continue to insist on bringing this up. Can't you see that you're traumatizing them? Nico: Hu, I-- Hu: Don't worry, Nico, I'm on your side. I'll always defend you. I can be reliable for you. You trust me, right? Nico: ... I never asked you to defend me--

Like, this goes beyond unreasonable. Nico literally says they don't trust anyone in the killing game, but Hu still thinks they trust her for... some reason. And even though Nico says they never asked her to defend them, Hu continues doing it past this point.

The thing is, though... why? Like, I get the basics here, it's what we talked about earlier. Hu only finds worth in herself by being reliable, and she sees Nico as someone who needs her reliability, so she tries to defend them no matter what. Hell, she even specifically says "I can be reliable for you" in the quote.

But... is there a reason she's so adamant towards them in particular? She doesn't get like this when Eden starts being accused, even though they have a good relationship with each other. Apart from reciting Rule 10 when it first comes up, once that gets thrown into question, the only thing Hu says when Levi and Arturo talk about Eden possibly being the killer is:

Hu [2-14]: Eden? Please don't cry.

She never pushes back against David's claim that he saw the corpse, even though that would practically exonerate Eden via BDA; that's Nico who does that. And Hu never claims Eden is being traumatized by being accused even though she clearly takes the accusations a lot worse than Nico was taking them in 2-14.

So, like, what the hell? Is there a deeper reason she's so defensive towards Nico and not Eden, or am I just going insane?

Well, at this point, if such a deeper reason exists, I have no clue what it could be. I could speculate about Nico reminding her of someone in the past, be it herself or someone else, or maybe Hu just sees Eden as less "in need" because she's generally more stable and happier than Nico, but really, I have no way of knowing.

The thing I can talk about in regards to the Hu-Nico thing is its parallels to Veronika-Arturo and Levi-Ace.

Veronika-Arturo is funny because, well.

Veronika [2-10]: Arturo, you're... You're so... Fascinating. You're really entertaining. So I'll take your side. I don't care about morals. I don't care about whether people get hurt or whether they die. I just need to be entertained. If you become more and more irredeemable, then I'll only love you more~ I want to hear all about those terrible things you did with no justification. Arturo: For someone who's taking my side, you sure are making me look a lot worse!

I really love how a big part of the Vero-Hu recap foil so far can be reduced to the "I can fix them" vs "I can make him worse" meme :p There are their secrets as well, but that analysis will have to wait for further elaboration on them, presumably in CH3.

Meanwhile, Levi-Ace... will have to wait for the Levi section, because this is already getting quite long for Hu, and it requires a bit more context on his character.

Miscellaneous highlights!

Hu [2-14]: Hang on! Eden isn't the killer! Don't accuse her! Charles: Not this again. You can't keep blindly defending the people you hope to be innocent if you don't have evidence, Hu.

Hu: I do have evidence! Why are you writing me off? All because I-- ... *sigh* Rule 10...

Damn she really gets defensive when you question her reliability huh?

Well, moving on. That was a pretty long section, hopefully the next one will be easier to write.

...

Oh. Oh no.

David Chiem

YOU

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Genuinely what is this motherfucker's problem? Everything he does seems to contradict something he did before, for reasons unknown. The only way I can even begin to try to analyze this son of a bitch is to go through everything he does in the series in chronological order, because trying to figure out his thought process in any other way would drive me in circles harder than anything in LGI ever did.

The first thing David truly does that informs us on his later actions is forming a genuine and positive relationship with Xander. In case the LGI MV didn't make it clear that David genuinely cared about the Rebel, we finally got near 100% confirmation of why exactly David liked him so much.

David [2-12]: You, and everyone else listening. I do so kindly request that pretty please stop talking about Xander at all if you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. It pisses me off to no end. After all, it's still unbelievable to me... ...That I'm the only person here who remembered him. Even if you all lost a year of memories for this killing game, there's no reason you shouldn't have recognized who he was.

While we unfortunately don't get much more clarification, it seems David knew what Xander did to earn the title of Ultimate Rebel, and likely admired him as a result. As per Xander's numeral I in LGI, "I have always looked up to you."

This admiration is presumably why David was so adamant in the first trial that there was no way Xander really tried to murder Teruko.

David [Debate Scrum, 1-8]: Are you saying that Xander is a killer? I find that difficult to believe.

You might argue that maybe he was just trying to throw the first trial, the same way he tried to throw the second. But that's not possible.

This is where we get to Weird Point #1. David didn't want to lose the first trial.

Nico [1-11]: Ah, right. Min was going from the laundry room to the kitchen. That path crosses the computer lab. She would have seen Teruko's body if the door was open. Min: ... Ace: And why exactly would the fucking door be open? Nico: U-Um... David: I suppose Min may have arrived near the computer lab's entrance just as Charles left. If she was curious, she would have even gone out of her way to see what was happening in there.

If David was trying to throw, he wouldn't be the first to explain how it would be possible for Min to be involved in the murder. And this is only one example, there's other lines where he specifically suspects Min. Apparently, he simply cannot handle a bad bitch winning (committing murder and trying to sacrifice 14 lives for her own benefit).

However, something in David shifts upon seeing Min's execution.

David [1-12]: I... I've seen enough. There's no point in keeping my hopes up anymore. We are all certainly going to die here.

This line is said pretty somberly.

Which is weird. Because not four days later, David will be trying to throw a class trial, which will kill everyone and him. Interesting detail about that, David doesn't seem to believe that the blackened will escape if they actually voted wrong, based on this line.

David [2-12]: 15 lives. Some of them are very dear to you. And your own life as well. Is there anything at all that could be more important to you than those 16 human lives?

Where he seems to imply a wrongful vote will cause 16 deaths.

But the thing is, it's not just the trial, is it? David also tried to instigate a murder through his "reveal all motive secrets" idea. That's what he does during the majority of CH2, starting in 2-4, just two days after Min's execution. Now, it's fully possible that at this point, he wasn't yet planning to throw the next trial, but rather, he was just doing this to hide his own secret. He certainly considers losing his "speaker persona" a genuine sacrifice, so it isn't unbelievable that he'd hope for a murder even if he was planning to win the trial if it happened.

David [2-12]: Even so... Lying about all that wasn't easy. Even I like to have good relations with others, however fake they might be. And I had to throw that all away. I know that no one will ever trust me, believe in me, or look up to me again after this. But doing "good" things requires sacrifice. Sometimes that sacrifice is being seen as "a good person." That's what I learned from Xander. Even if doing something will make you hated, if that action is for a greater good, then it's an action that you have to take.

(By the way, his views of goodness as martyrdom are quite interesting and I'm curious to see where it will go, but currently we don't have much more than this line for insight on it)

However, I don't quite think that he just wanted to keep the others' goodwill; I think he was already hoping to throw from the moment he started instigating the murder. And this is where we need to ask; what was it that made David switch up? What happened between the first trial and the second that made his goals change from surviving to... whatever he's cooking now? Because in case it wasn't clear from how I'm talking about it, I don't believe David gave the real reason for his throwing to the class. Let's look at the "confession."

David [2-12]: Ugh, fucking fine. You want an answer so badly? Any answer? ... I...

Ah... We're... in a television show, after all. That's... what MonoTV said, right? "Entertainment" is an ongoing show. If Min successfully got away with the very first murder and escaped while we all died, then isn't that way less interesting for a TV show? What's the point of roping 14 other people into one murder, only to kill them all off immediately? The killer is supposed to fail and be executed. We're all supposed to catch the killer, again and again, and participate in trial after trial. You're *supposed* to try to survive. All of you who are trying to solve these class trials to continue living on are playing straight into MonoTV's hands. [Confident] As if I'll accept that. I don't care how low I'll sink, or how despicable I'll have to become. I'll do anything to carry on Xander's ideals by ending this killing game, even if it means that I have to dirty my hands.

Although I wrote it all out, I want you to focus on the start: ".... - I... - Ah... We're... in a television show, after all." Even beyond the meta argument that it's unlikely we'd actually get the answer to why Xander wanted to win the class trial this early in the series (which is a valid argument, but I prefer to theorize without meta reasoning), that hesitation should tell you everything. The way it's written, it makes it seem like David is hesitating because he's making everything up on the spot, up to the "Ah..." potentially being the exact moment David figured out what angle he wanted to take. Given he's already admitted to both being manipulative and wanting to get everyone killed, this is the only reason I can see for why he'd hesitate to give such a relatively simple and "reasonable" (as in, it logically follows even if it's still insane) answer.

So, now we have two questions. What does he actually want to achieve by throwing, and why did he only start pursuing it after the first trial ended?

Well, let me say first that I don't think we're supposed to be able to answer these questions yet. Obviously; we're dealing with shit very closely connected to some pretty large, overarching mysteries of the series, which we probably won't get full answers for until much later than CH2. But we can try to speculate the general direction of what the answer will be. Let's look at another one of his lines to try to do just that.

David [2-13]: Achoo! Ah--Bless me! Also, excuse me! Wow, thank you for your support, everyone!

(I only included that line because it's fucking hilarious and I didn't want that to go unappreciated :p)

I have another interruption~ Hu: ... David: Teruko. Own up your [sic] goddamn secret already. You are the last person to do so. [...] Teruko: ... My family. David: ...

So, just like everyone who is somewhat deep in the DRDT theorizing community, I don't think this is true. I am pretty sure David has Teruko's secret, that secret being "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault." There's many reasons beyond the weird ass David sprite pictured above, which many have already covered, but as a quick overview: the family secret ("you're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them") fits Xander better (see: Bonus Episode 2, Xander's secret quote being the definition of survivor's guilt), the family secret mentions "siblings" plural when Teruko's only claimed to have one brother, we don't know what happened to Teruko's parents and brother when we know Xander's family is dead, Teruko didn't believe David when he said he got Xander's secret so she probably suspects the killing game one is hers, "this killing game is all your fault" is consistent with the second anniversary art code ("It's all your fault" in a picture which only features Teruko reaching out to presumably-Mai's hands, which disappear), etc.

So now we have four questions, because evidently I'm quite bad at this. Apart from the two mentioned before, we need to ask why David lied about the secret he received, and why he was happy when Teruko answered with the family thing.

But sometimes, one question can answer others. The reason I'm bringing this up is because I believe David's heel turn was likely motivated in some way by receiving Teruko's secret. Take a look at his immediate reaction when the secrets are first handed out.

Pretty frowny, huh? Yeah understandable given the secret he received is "hey the killing game is all the girl that Xander tried to kill's fault." Unfortunately this is the only reaction David has to any of the secrets, as the rest of his dialogue after this is just explaining J's secret. Well, and this:

Eden [2-1]: Then let's end the killing game before [the motive secret reveal]! Nico: Eh?! David: Optimistic as ever, Eden. I'll do my best.

Which is kinda funny in retrospect. Yeah, he sure did do his best to end the killing game before the secret reveals.

Tangent aside, the important thing is that David wasn't necessarily surprised by Teruko's secret, but rather, uh... Well it's hard to read him on expression alone. Frustrated, maybe? Possibly mad that Xander didn't succeed in killing her? It's also worth noting that this is shortly before Teruko goes into her whole "I don't plan on leaving" shtick, which includes the following tidbit (and yes David is in the room to hear this).

Teruko [2-1]: And I'd recommend that you drop that foolish optimism for making it out of here alive. With 100% confidence, I can say that... You will all die down here without ever seeing the outside world again. Ace: This bitch is totally out of her mind. Teruko: I'm not saying this out of ill-will. It's simply how this story works. You all have the misfortune of being "characters" in a story where I'm the "protagonist." Because of that, you're all doomed.

What's so important about this? Because I believe that, in David's mind, this proves Xander right. It proves that there is something off about Teruko, that he probably did have a good reason to attack her, that the note he received wasn't complete bullshit. If there is any single thing that would get David to follow Xander's footsteps, regardless of whether he has the full story or he's just doing what Xander was trying to do even without knowing the reasons the Rebel made the moves he made, it would be getting confirmation that the person he tried to kill specifically has something suspicious going on.

Especially because David does, in fact, seem to have a very weird fixation on Teruko.

David [2-14]: As long as there's a possibility that the evidence is false, as long as there's even the slightest reason to distrust others, then Teruko cannot trust Eden. Isn't that right, Teruko? Teruko: ... David: It's in your nature to distrust people. Everyone you know has already betrayed you. There's no one in this world who won't hurt you. Even the people you love will turn their backs on you in the end. You know that well enough, don't you? So distrust in others. Because that's the only way you know how to live. Teruko: ...

(Obligatory props to VAing ofc)

... Alright so it's five questions. Because how does he know all that?

Let me knock that one out quickly, though. Right now, I don't think this is solid enough reason to suspect that David knows more about Teruko than he's letting on. I could be wrong about that and David could just be aware of her entire backstory, but I currently don't believe that.

Instead, I think this might actually be an extension of his talent, in a way. The joke that he gave Teruko a "demotivational speech" is funny, but I also think it's actually on the right track. David knows the right things to say to someone to inspire them, to push back against their insecurities, as he did with Arei in the playground breakdown. Thus, it logically follows that if he's able to identify emotional weakness to push against it, he would also be able to exploit it.

Or, try, at least. He actually fails pretty spectacularly, since Teruko ends up trusting Eden anyways, and I don't think there were any reverse psychology 5D chess moves on David's part given his immediate reaction to Teruko's 2-14 speech to Eden.

Like, that's the face of a man who tried to be slick and failed miserably.

(And in case it isn't clear, I don't think his lie of seeing the body had anything to do with the trial, he did it just to fuck with Teruko)

In any case, what happened here is that he figured out the (relatively obvious, it doesn't take an Ultimate to see this) trust issues that plague Teruko, and is trying to make them worse in order to... uh... fill in the blank I guess. One option I've considered is that he knows something about how her luck works, that it hurts people she likes, so if she doesn't trust anyone then her luck's effects will be concentrated entirely on Teruko. However, that requires a pretty deep understanding of something he shouldn't have that much info on, so I don't find it that likely. Also I'm not 100% sure if this is how her luck actually works so there's that.

Yeah, unfortunately, at this point I struggle to see exactly what David's angle is here, which is probably intentional given, again, CH2. However, it does somewhat tie back into what we were talking about. Along with everything else I've mentioned, this fixation on Teruko's trust makes me believe that David's heel turn is at least partially motivated by receiving her secret.

And if we once again combine questions 3, 4 and 5, we can actually arrive at a new conclusion. We know David's hiding Teruko's secret, we know he's happy that she's not calling him out on it, and we know that he has a vested interest in getting her to distrust others. With all these combined, I believe that David is trying to look for a way to manipulate Teruko specifically as a backup plan if the cast managed to win the trial, which they did.

By getting her to distrust others, she'd isolate, making her an easier target for manipulation as she wouldn't have anyone to fall back on if David starts getting to her. And the secret is good blackmail, pretty straightforward why he he hasn't revealed it yet. That's also why he's happy she helped him keep it hidden; he can pull it as a card to make her seem less trustworthy and isolate her further. "She lied about her secret, she was trying to hide it." If she had been honest and said that neither the family nor the poison secret fit her and that someone lied about their secret, it would make her look comparatively better once the secret came out. In other words, it makes the blackmail even better, especially because now David knows for a fact that she wants to keep it hidden.

That brings up to question 6: why does David want to manipulate Teruko in the first place? And this is where we finally reach a dead end, because again, CH2, we're not gonna get all the answers yet. I have less than zero idea what David will try to manipulate Teruko into doing, when he will make his move, what his end goal is, or any other question you can imagine. I have my doubts that he'll succeed, obviously, but of course that depends a lot on what his final angle ends up being.

So, let's recap.

David knew of Xander before the killing game, admiring him because of his work as the Ultimate Rebel. As a result, David tried to establish a good relationship with Xander once the killing game started.

David originally rejected the idea of Xander attacking Teruko out of denial and nothing else. He had genuine faith his friend wouldn't do that. David wanted to catch the correct blackened in the first trial.

Upon receiving Teruko's secret and hearing her speech about everyone dying as a result of misfortune, David begins to believe Xander was in the right, and chooses to pursue what he thinks Xander was trying to accomplish. This includes trying to instigate a murder and admitting to killing Arei.

David lied about his motivation to throw the trial. I don't know if he's specifically trying to kill Teruko, or if he thinks everyone in the cast needs to die for some reason, or if he genuinely has no idea what Xander was trying to do and he's just following his actions blindly, or if it's something else entirely; whatever motivation he actually has, it's not what he said.

As a backup plan if the cast manages to win the trial, he hides Teruko's secret and plans to manipulate her via blackmail, for reasons yet unknown. This is why he's happy that she also keeps it hidden, and why he tries to build her distrust in others.

And that's the basics of what I believe regarding his actions... related to throwing the trial and Teruko. We still have one more David Moment TM to deal with.

David [about the Arei conversation, 2-13]: ... Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I didn't say anything to her, and she didn't have much to say to me either. Arei simply got annoyed with me and left without saying anything else. Nothing else happened between us, I promise. Eden: You promise? You absolutely promise, you didn't say anything to her? David: One hundred and one percent, I promise. Ace overheard everything, and what he told you all was the entire truth. Does that satisfy you? Eden: ... That's... a relief. That you didn't make her feel bad, I guess.

So, question 7, why does he hide the truth from Eden? I doubt he suddenly gained an interest in progressing the trial without further interruption. He's also not doing this for Eden's sake; what Eden wanted to hear was that Arei walked out of that conversation still hoping to change for the better, which she did. Hearing that Arei still wanted to "be less shitty together" even after knowing David's a manipulative asshole would have made Eden very happy.

But David doesn't want to hurt Eden, either. If he did, he'd lie and tell Eden that he said something that made Arei run out crying and having lost all hope, or something. I also can't really think of anyone else who would have much of a reaction either way, since as bad as it sounds to say it, Eden's more or less the only person who was genuinely invested in Arei's progress. Maybe "the blackened," but if David doesn't know who the blackened is, there's no way he'd know how they'd react, so it's likely not because of that.

So, if David doesn't hide the truth for the sake of the trial, and he doesn't lie because of Eden, and he doesn't lie because of anyone else, then he's lying for his own sake. I believe that David is trying to hide how much he genuinely cared about Arei, and probably doesn't trust himself to be able to tell the story without giving the game away.

And to be clear, he did genuinely care about Arei. If his immediate reaction to her death doesn't convince you, his breakdown after hearing the Arturo-Eden-Arei story should.

David [2-8]: Of course. Of course this would happen.

David [2-10]: If Eden and Arei really had that conversation, then it explains a lot. I had my doubts. A clearly suspicious note, asking her to meet alone and with no explanation as to why. During a *killing game* of all times. What kind of person would fall for such an obvious trap? You'd have to be shortsighted, naive, foolish, senseless, downright idiotic. ... Unless, of course, you were Arei. That girl wanted desperately to prove herself as a "friend" to Eden. And yet she completely lacked any experience with what "friends" were actually like. Of course it never occurred to her that handing out suspicious notes was not something that normal people did. What could she know about "friendship," after all? Someone like her, who had not once experienced kindness in her entire life up until now? Even if she had her misgivings about something so suspicious, she must have pushed it aside due to her unwavering faith in her blossoming friendship. A friendship that she didn't understand in the slightest. It's... It's so... Ahaha. It's just so foolish. For someone to take advantage of Arei like that. It's absolutely unforgivable. All she wanted was to change. What a reprehensible person this killer is. I look forward to seeing their painful execution.

(Do you think all this talk about "suspicious notes" is making him think of Xander with the suspicious note he received? Don't know, maybe :p)

Between David hiding the end of the conversation and the whole "Arei was a temporary weather spell" line, it seems he's really committing to the role of someone who doesn't care about Arei.

There are many reasons he could be doing this, but I believe he's just pulling a Teruko: Showing no vulnerability, because if he did, then maybe people would actually try to reach out to him. And then they'd get hurt like Xander and Arei; quote one of the Hamlet quotes in LGI (one of the eight lol): "I did love you once. You shouldn't have believed me." And/or David would need to confront how awful he is to try to change and better these new relationships.

Because it's a lot easier to be an irredeemable asshole who will never get better, than to confront the reality that he can, just that it's hard. Cue parallels with Arei and Teruko and Ace and you get the idea.

Final note, completely unrelated.

Whit [2-12]: Hey, hey, you could say those fish were a... red herring? David: Ugh! Goddamn it, Whit, does everything you say have to be made into some shitty dumb joke?! You're actually really fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up!!

Question 8: Why is David so pressed about Whit's jokes? At the moment, my only guess is that Whit's attitude of always remaining positive enough to crack jokes reminds David a bit too much of his "cheery" persona, which also is supposed to always remain optimistic in the face of adversity, and David either hates that because he hates himself, or because he's envious that Whit can hold that optimism without trouble (as far as David can see). I lean on it being a combination, where he does hate his "cheery" persona, but also wishes he could genuinely be like that, but it's very hard to tell atm.

Alright that took way too long. Can't wait for this all to be proven horribly wrong the next time we get any solid info on David!!!

Levi Fontana

Hey Levi sorry for calling you an accomplice for like a year are we still cool? :,D

Although Levi had a lower amount of Big Moments than David, I consider them more impactful to the chapter. And when you're talking Levi, you're talking 2-13 and 2-16. Let's start with the former.

Levi [2-13]: The secret that Arei received, "You're a murderer, and you hold no remorse...." That's my secret. [Cast reactions] If you were wondering, it's not in my legal records. The court struck it from the records. Ace: No shit! There's no way Hope's Peak would have scouted a murderer! Levi: Don't make the mistake of switching cause and effect.

Let's take our time with this one, it's a long speech. First, nice to see we called this secret, it's nice. Also, I'm not the first to point this out, but it's a neat bit of characterization for Levi to first talk about the legal side of his secret instead of anything more related to emotions; he only really cares about the effects things have in the present (that'll become explicit in a bit), so the first concern he thinks of are the legal repercussions.

Then, Hope's Peak... Hope's Peak why are you this shady. Between Rose's situation, the Ultimate Contest for Eminent Students, and now this, it's now three times they've specifically targeted people in vulnerable positions. Four if you count Teruko, but that would imply they rigged the lottery for the Lucky Student, which I would believe but we currently don't have evidence for. No wonder Xander has issues with them, they're cooking something weird.

Rose [1-4]: I'm sure Hope's Peak wants me to become some sort of appraiser or forgery detective with the skills that I have. Taking some offending youth and turning them into a productive member of society would be a pretty good look for them.

Unnamed Classmate [BE1]: Why would Hope's Peak announce [the UCES] 12 years before it would actually take place, when all the would-be contestants are just children? Min: Because they wanted the contest to hang over the heads of kids like me for 12 years, from childhood all the way into high school. They wanted to single out those who were obsessive enough to spend their entire lives preparing for this one test from childhood.

Unnamed Classmate [BE2]: If you set out to do something, then never give up on that, no matter what obstacles may stand in your way. Even if it's risky or against the rules, as long as it's for a good cause... I'll trust that you know to do the right thing. Xander: Yeah. Of course. That's why I've come to Hope's Peak, isn't it?

We currently have no clue where this is going, but I'm noting it for further reference. Let's pick off from where we left.

Charles [continued]: Care to explain yourself? Levi: At the time, I was confronted by three guys who tried to start a fight with me. I believe they were some old enemies. I killed their leader first, which may have been justifiable as self-defense, but then I tracked down his two remaining friends several days later and beat them to death. J: "Old enemies?" "Leader"?? Were you in the freakin' mafia or something? Levi: No. J: ... Levi: ... J: Are you not going to elaborate?? Levi: I don't particularly think I need to elaborate. After all, that happened in the past and has nothing to do with Arei.

One question this speech leaves us with is "why did Levi track down the other two after killing the leader?" We don't have enough info to tell for sure, but I assume it's a matter of safety? Like, Levi thought those two would try to attack him again if he left them alone, so he needed to make sure that didn't happen. I think that makes enough sense for me not to lose sleep at night over it, but of course I'm open to being wrong.

Also, this is the point where Levi's pure pragmatism becomes apparent. "It's not important right now, so why would I elaborate?" A philosophy which is born from his lack of empathy which will be discussed later. This pragmatism is probably why he's the one to argue that Eden was in an advantageous position to kill Arei; the logistics of murder come before emotional aspects in his mind, which is understandable.

Eden [continued]: Who... Who did you even kill? Levi: They were three guys... a few years older than me... Uh... I don't remember their names or who they were.

Do we think Levi knew their names at one point and forgot, or did he somehow track down two people without learning their names? I find the former more likely, just wanted to point that out.

Levi [continued]: I was a bit of a delinquent when I was younger, so they could have held a grudge against me for any reason. Maybe I smashed their windows and robbed them? Or, wait, maybe something to do with that car I blew up once? Rose: That's... kind of a lot to admit all of a sudden.

One thing I always enjoy is when the character who reacts to cut off a monologue has some kind of connection to the thing being discussed. Like, of course Rose is surprised at everything Levi is saying. She's out here being haunted by the crimes she committed, to the point where the debt she put her family in is her motive secret, and then this other guy has broken All the Laws and is just admitting it openly lol.

Levi [continued]: I've forgotten most of the details, as I haven't though much about it since I was cleared of my charges. Sorry, I can't really remember why that happened. Arturo: How could you forget something so important? You can't even be bothered to remember their names? Did you not care that you killed three people?

Speaking of matching reactions to character, Arturo "I feel unending guilt over the death of my sister who I did not even directly kill" Giles cannot conceive how someone else isn't haunted by the lives he took, more recap foiling at eleven.

Veronika [continued]: You say that your backstory and secret aren't relevant to this trial, but they are. That second part of your secret, that you "felt no remorse" for killing people... If you don't care about murder, then you'd have a much easier time killing than anyone else here. You may even be unbothered by the fact that passing the trial would mean everyone else's execution. After all, you seem completely detached while admitting not only to murdering 3 people, but to several other crimes as well. Almost as if you didn't care about any of this. At least not from a moral standpoint, that is. Levi: I won't deny it. That is indeed how I feel. Ace: You are one sick bastard. What could you possibly say in your defense.

This is the first big hint of Levi's low to non-existent empathy, but I'll wait until it's fully elaborated on to discuss it in depth. Also this hints to Ace business that will be discussed in his section. Why am I even writing here.

Levi [continued]: That incident happened when I was in my junior year of high school. My junior year was also the year that Hope's Peak scouted me as the Ultimate Personal Stylist. To my understanding, it would have reflected poorly on Hope's Peak to recruit a murderer, so they pressured the court into not pressing charges.

I do wonder now why Levi even started styling in the first place. By his own admission he's pretty new to it, though he's got at least a year or two of experience if he was scouted in junior year (I think? USA why can't you fucking number your grades like sensible people I don't know what "junior" means without firefoxing that shit). Maybe a job he picked up after disownment? Though that heavily depends on when and why he got disowned in the first place; was it because of his father's murder, the murder of the three dudes and the court case just took a while, or was it something else? Questions to mull over, but can't answer without further info.

Levi [continued]: Err... Hang on. Now that I've thought about it a little more, my motive secret may not be referring to those guys. It could also be referring to the time I murdered my father. J: Wait, you-- YOU WHAT?! Levi: It's quite difficult yo tell what these motive secrets truly mean because they're all phrased so vaguely... It's a bit of a bother. J: No, fuck that noise! Go back! The hell you mean, you fucking killed your dad? Levi: Correct. I simply forgot about it up until now. That would make four people in total that I've killed, not three, I think...? Arturo: How could you simply *forget* that you murdered your own family member? Nico: If you said you killed him because you just didn't like him, I could understand that. But you're saying you forgot about taking a life... Levi: It wasn't that important. Not even the police cared about a man like him, so nothing came out of it. I truly just forgot.

(why is everyone blue you're fucking up my color schemes-)

Back to the whole "appropriate reactors" thing, while I've already mentioned the Nico thing, I think it's cool J (the anti-murder spokesperson with a bad relationship with her mother) specifically says 'dad,' while Arturo generalizes to 'family member.' Someone's being reminded of his past~

I find this admission pretty funny for a few reasons, and very interesting for many others. Funny because my guy is complaining about the vagueness of the motives while admitting he killed his dad and not elaborating in the slightest. Interesting because... why did that happen? Levi doesn't respond to Nico's comment, so it seems like he didn't particularly dislike his father or anything? Especially in the context of the way he's talked about his family in the past.

Levi [responding to Eden, 2-1]: No, not at all. It's for the best that neither I nor my family see each other ever again. Eden: Eh? If you don't mind me asking, why? Levi: Why? My father, my mother, my brothers... We were all bad influences on each other. That's all that needs to be said.

I mean, Levi's father probably wasn't a shining beacon of hope or anything, given the police didn't even investigate his death, but like... lumping him in with the mother and the brothers, and just saying they were "bad influences" instead of, like, genuinely shitty people, it all makes it sound like there's no specific grudge against the father. Which makes sense, right? Even his father would feel like a stranger, as Levi will describe later. I really wish we get some elaboration on this, because I'm pretty curious about what kind of situation would lead Levi to this. I did try to check what's caused Levi to snap before, see if I could figure out what could have prompted it:

Ace [1-9]: What's the damn point of this whole trial if we're going to make choices based on dumb crap like that?? You useless shit-for-brains! Are you even taking any of this seriously?! Whit: Huh? Am I taking this seriously? Nah, not really. Ace: YOU--! Levi: Ace, calm down. You are not helping at all with this argument-- Ace: You shut your damn trap too, Levi!! I'm done with you trying to play the moral high ground by pretending to be some peacemaker! "Oh dear, oh my, calm down, everyone. Let's not fight, alright? Aren't I such a level-minded pacifist?" Stay the hell out of this if you know what's good for you. Levi: ... Ace: That's right. Shut your damn mouth, you coward-- Levi: Fuck. Off. Ace. How far do you want to push it? Do you think that I don't have a limit to my patience? I would gladly strangle you right here and now to shut you up if I were allowed. But if you're the coward I know you to be, then you should back up before you dig your own grave. So shut. Your mouth. Before I shut it for you.

Uh... Personal attacks against Levi? Yeah I have no idea what the hell his father could have done to prompt the murder. As usual, we're missing too much critical information to make a call on it. I'm gonna wager a guess that Levi didn't plan the murder, but rather it was an in the moment decision, but again I have no actual way to be sure.

Levi [continued]: Frankly speaking, I see no reason to remain hung up over some incident that is long past, especially as it ultimately had no impact on my life. Eden: You forgot about all of the things you did simply because you didn't face any consequences? That's incredibly selfish! Shouldn't you feel even a little bit bad? Those were human lives you took! I don't know what happened within your own family, so I can't pretend to understand why you killed. But even then, I'm sure those other people had families and friends who cried over their deaths!

Again the responders; remember how Eden feels guilty over both Min and Arei's death even though she never "faced any consequences" for them (mainly because she didn't actually do anything wrong but you get the idea)? Yeah that.

Levi [continued]: *sigh* I wonder if I should really tell you the truth, or if it's best to keep it to myself. I don't know how you all will see me after this. Teruko: You've already admitted to murdering 4 people. If you insist on not being completely honest with a secret this bad, then you're going to be the next one on the chopping block. Out with it.

Considering the stuff he says later, it's interesting to me that Levi seems to be more worried about revealing his lack of empathy than admitting to murder, especially with the knowledge that he's only doing this because he thinks being honest will make him "a good person."

However, I think it makes sense. Amongst the cast, there's already several people who either killed or tried to: Xander, Min, and Nico. But a lot of the others still speak of them in good terms; David talked about how good of a person Xander was for several minutes, Eden has made it clear she still misses Min, and Hu still defends Nico. Not to mention that Levi himself already threatened to kill Ace, and got called "a good person" by Eden just a few hours later. That means that, although admitting to murder will probably make the others more wary of him, there's precedent that Levi will still have people who stick by him after all's said and done.

Meanwhile, as far as Levi can tell, he's the only one who doesn't understand empathy in the slightest. And that means he has no way of telling how the others will feel about him if he reveals it, which is why he's more nervous about it than the murders. It plays on the themes of feeling disconnected from the rest of humanity that characters like Nico (via gender identity) and David-

Tally 5 Page: "... I wasn't capable of ever becoming human in the first place."

-have going on, which is definitely something that's cool to mull over. I hope these three get some kind of interaction about this in the future.

By the way, as always I'm just kinda guessing why Levi does the things he does and says the things he says, I could always be wrong.

Levi [continued]: It's not really that I don't care about killing people. Rather, it's more accurate to say that I don't care about people at all. No matter how much I hear about such things like empathy or compassion or love, none of those concepts resonate with me. Are those emotions really universal? The idea that people naturally "care" about others is a completely foreign concept to me. Nico: Eh? What are you saying? Levi: Judging by your reaction, I suppose that's a bad thing. But I wouldn't understand why. On the other side of this planet, there's a person who's suffering. Maybe they're even drawing their last breath. But none of you care, do you? Why would you? They're a stranger, after all. You don't know them. Their life holds no consequence for you. For me, everyone I've ever known is that distant stranger. It doesn't matter how long I've known you, how much we've done for each other, or even if you were my own father... You're still a stranger to me. And if tomorrow it turned out you all had passed away, I'd care as much as if we had never met.

So here's the big reveal, bolded text and all. Levi has extremely low empathy. I'm not gonna try to assign any specific disorder because I'd have no idea what I'd be talking about, but the empathy thing is pretty clear. I'm also no authority on whether this would be good representation for that or not, but for what it's worth, I think it's done pretty well. Levi's perspective is presented neutrally, in a way that shows his lack of empathy doesn't inherently make him a bad person, but not shying away from some of the real effects that can come from it (combined with other factors of course), such as the whole 4 murders situation.

I also like the way Levi describes it. It does a good job of getting the audience to understand his feelings, while still holding quite a bit of characterization in there. For example, the reason he gives for why the cast wouldn't care about the stranger on the other side of the world is because "their life holds no consequence to you." Even when trying to speak from the others' perspective, his understanding of why someone would care about someone else is still shaped entirely by what tangible effect that person has in the other's life, in a way sorting people by "holds consequence/holds no consequence."

Eden [continued]: But you're a good person. Why are you saying these things when it's clearly not true? You're so kind to everyone. You're always helping others out, even when it'd be easier not to. Like that time Ace almost died. You kept trying to help him, even if he always pushed you away. Isn't that what "a good person" does? Levi: In all honesty... I don't personally care what happens to Ace. Whether he lives or dies is none of my concern in the end. Ace: ...?! Levi: But it is a "good" thing to make sure someone else doesn't die, even if I personally do not care about the outcome. I truly believe that. But I adhere to that principle out of duty, not sentimentality. Does that make any sense?

So I'm gonna do a funny here and skip Ace's reaction to this, because that's more for the Ace section than this one. I also already talked about Eden's reaction to this.

Instead, I'll focus on Levi, particularly the question of "does Levi actually care about Ace?" To answer that, it'll be helpful to get the full Veronika Breakdown TM.

Veronika [continued]: Hm hm... I understand now. You're quite the interesting person, Levi. From what I've seen of you so far, your personality has been awfully inconsistent. It's like you don't know how to act. Trying to act like "a good person" without any intuitive sense of what's good or bad is hard, right? For someone like you, who lacks compassion, it must be quite difficult to pretend to be nice. You're always guessing as to what a normal human would do in your situation. You're so awkward in social settings because you can't tell what other people want. You act like a big pushover because if you go the other direction and stand up for yourself, you won't know where to stop. You offer to do things for others because you've observed that "good people" help others, and you parrot noble assurances without understanding why. Such things like that. Not only are you trying to act without a script, but you don't even understand the story. And you slip up constantly. Levi: You explained it better than I could. You really have an intuitive understanding of other people, Veronika. That's a trait I envy. The way I see it, it would be beneficial if I was "a good person." Then other people would trust me and not pick fights with me anymore, and they'd do things for me because they "liked" me. If I was a good person, then I wouldn't have to live a life full of violence anymore. I did everything so that I could have a better life.

Okay hold on there's a bunch to talk about here. Let me do that before circling back to the Ace Question.

Veronika is thankfully good enough at describing the stuff she said that I don't feel the need to elaborate on that. It's basically just a perfect read of Levi's actions so far under this new frame of someone who lacks empathy yet still is a good person. His awkwardness, his outbursts towards Ace, him being sort of a pushover, everything. I also like the little comment of Levi envying Vero's understanding of people, it's neat characterization.

Aside from that, there's also cool contrast between the way Levi sees being a good person as a sort of purely pragmatic social contract (being good leads to a peaceful life and ensures others help you) and Eden, which as referenced earlier sees friendship in a purely emotional and non-transactional way. Not exactly fully comparable, but close enough, and still worth mentioning given the chapter starts with a conversation between the two of them about how they're good people. Both of these have their merit, the point is that, in the end, no matter the reason you have for doing good things, regardless if it's out of sentimentality or just duty, doing good is enough to be a good person. While still of course keeping in mind Arei's message that no one is effortlessly good 100% of the time, and simply trying to be as good as you can be and improve on your flaws is enough.

Also, "I did everything so I could have a better life," huh?

Arturo [referring to Felicity's suicide, 2-10]: How is it possibly my fault that I wanted to live my own life!?

Get paralleled, idiot >:D

Wanting better things for yourself can end up having good effects on others (Levi being good to the cast), or negative (Felicity dying), fun contrast.

But I'm beating around the bush. The question I asked earlier, does Levi actually care about Ace?

Well, there's definitely room for interpretation, but my read is... well, not in the usual way. I mean, Levi explicitly says he doesn't particularly care if Ace lives or dies, so that's kind of a giveaway that he still very much does not feel empathy towards him. To better understand Levi's perspective, it might be helpful to analyze the previously mentioned Hu-Nico and Levi-Ace parallels.

Fandom has long since grouped together Hu and Levi as the "parental figures" of the group, and while I don't particularly enjoy applying familial relations to friendships, there's some basis for the interpretation. They both (to varying effect) commonly act as peacemakers and moderators in the context of the group, but have had this position compromised by emotional outbursts (Hu's defense of Nico and Levi's threats to Ace). Hell, there's even parallels in the way people react to some of these outbursts.

Levi [after the previously linked outburst, 1-9]: I'm terribly sorry for that, everyone. Please continue discussing as you were earlier. Ace: So scary!!

Rose [reacting to Hu's "fuck David" outburst, 2-12]: Wow. Hu can be scary.

To be fair the 2-12 outburst is far more justified than a lot of Hu's others, but you get the point.

They both act this way for similar reasons; to control the cast's perception of them. Hu wishes to be seen as reliable in order to feel useful as a way to counteract her suicidal tendencies and self-loathing, while Levi wishes to be seen as a good person for the reasons he states (to live a peaceful life where others do things for him). And in order to do this, they've both chosen to focus on one person in particular to "protect" or help in some way; Nico for Hu, Ace for Levi. The reasons for this are different mind you, but the effect is similar enough.

However, while it's still unclear why exactly Hu is so adamant about Nico in particular, we kind of know why Levi is focused on Ace. Simply put, before the second trial, Ace was sort of the only person who had legitimate reasons to dislike Levi, at least in Levi's mind. Because of the death threat in trial one of course. Most people haven't really expressed an opinion on Levi either way, but they're civil and at least neutral towards him. Hell, Eden even specifically says Levi's a good person after the death threat, and since she's a pretty rational person, it follows most of the cast would see him that way as well, given how quickly they all moved on from the death threat.

Ace was the exception, however. Ace was very explicitly (and understandably) pissed at Levi for the death threat, so he stood as somewhat of a threat to Levi's goal of being seen as a "good person." Levi trying to fix things with Ace is an extension of this goal, and I don't think there's much else to it. Even to the very end, Levi's frustration at Ace doesn't come from a sense of betrayal or sadness or remorse for not being able to stop the murder, or anything like that. Levi only gets frustrated at his inability to understand Ace, which we already knew from his envy of Veronika's psychoanalysis abilities is a point of insecurity for him.

Ace [2-16]: I just needed a reason to stay mad at you, any reason at all, goddamnit! [sic] Levi: Why? Why do you have to force yourself to be angry at me? You just said you know that you're in the wrong, so why do you still do it?! I don't understand. I can't understand you, no matter how hard I try.

Levi, under this reading, still doesn't "care" that Ace is about to die, not in the way Eden felt bad about Min's death for example. He's frustrated that he's trying to be a good person towards Ace, and it isn't working for reasons he can't grasp. More on those reasons in the Ace section.

I am very curious as to how he'll react to Ace wanting to speed up his execution to try and save his life, and I predict Levi will probably try his best to honor Ace's memory and his sacrifice, but as always, out of duty and not sentimentality. Sorry Acevi fans, hope you still find a way to make it work :/

Since we're on the topic (and Ace's section is gonna be long enough as is), I'll talk about the other side of the Hu-Nico and Levi-Ace parallels, the way the "protected" act in respects to the "protectors." The main point of contrast is that, originally, Ace specifically sought out Levi for protection, while Nico never asked Hu for it.

Teruko [1-2]: Since when were you two so friendly? I distinctly recall yesterday a certain someone being terrified whenever Levi came near him. Ace: Whaaaat? Me, scared? Are you just making things up? Teruko: ... Ace: Okay, fine. Yeah, Levi's scary as hell! But I realized that MonoTV is even scarier than Levi! At least Levi is sorta safe to be around. And I like to be safe, you know?

Nico [to Hu, 2-14]: I never asked you to defend me--

Then comes the aspect of "betrayal" in both these relationships, where the roles are flipped. It's Levi who originally "betrays" Ace by threatening him, while it's Nico who "betrays" Hu by trying to frame her with the wire. However, Ace takes this betrayal much more personally than Hu, getting mad at Levi while Hu continues to defend Nico. As a result, Ace gets a bit of a victim complex, while Nico fully acknowledges blame for the murder attempt. Etc.

Okay time to continue with 2-13 because no we're not done with it.

Levi [continued]: After listening to David, I concluded that a good person would also be honest, even if the truth makes them look bad. Ace: You're taking advice from David of all people? Look at this asshole! David: Try looking in a mirror before you talk, Ace. Levi: I thought David was a prime example of a good person. Is he not? David: Wow, you really don't understand people at all, do you. Levi: I don't want to distract you all from this case any further. So, I apologize for this tangent.

Another really cool bit of characterization here. Levi struggles so much with understanding most people's sense of morality that he still thinks David "I actively tried to kill everyone here by pretending to be the blackened" Chiem is a good person. There's also the quick implication that David doesn't see himself as a good person, but I feel we're well past the point where that's news.

We also get the reason why Levi even said all this; he thinks being honest will help him be a good person, and presumably only brought it up after the whole David thing got resolved because "good person" David was (eventually) honest with both his motive secret and the reason he tried to get voted out. Or, rather, Levi thinks David was honest on the latter. Fair ig.

Levi has a few other lines in this part, but the next most striking thing to talk about is, fittingly, not a set of words, but an image.

Levi's protective streak has always been a big part of his character, and now he's literally taken a bullet (or 5) for Teruko. Just for the record, I imagine he'll survive, because there'd be no real point to most of the end of 2-16 if he didn't.

The big question around this is, naturally, why did Levi jump in? Obviously, it's not that he particularly cares if Teruko lives or dies, not from an emotional standpoint anyways. It could also just be Teruko's luck somehow manipulating him the way it seems to have influenced Min somewhat, but I can't see that as the only reason this happened. So, like most people, I believe he feels he owes Teruko.

Teruko [1-2]: No... I should be the one apologizing. It's my fault you got hurt. Levi: What do you mean? Without your warning, I could have gotten fatally injured. I should thank you that my wound is not more severe.

Teruko warning him in the prologue is the most obvious case where Teruko saved Levi, especially since it parallels this scene. Teruko saves Levi from execution, so he returns the favor. However, we also need to keep in mind that, without Teruko carrying, these people would not have made it through the trials, so Levi might feel he owes her for that too. And "good people" repay their debts, don't they?

Very interested in seeing where Levi's character goes from here!

Teruko Tawaki

You know a series is doing something right when the protag has so much shit going on in a trial where she didn't even have strong relationships with either the victim or the killer. Now, a big chunk of her screen time was devoted to crime solving, so her section might end up smaller than Levi's even though I consider her more important, but the order of this analysis is kinda all over the place anyways :v

I'll go in the order of Teruko moments as they appeared, though I'll skip the whole "fix my mistake" thing since I already mentioned it in the Min section.

David [2-12]: Xander is a good person. He's the only good person I've ever known. I swear, I'll follow in his footsteps and-- Teruko: And get everyone killed in the class trial? Xander is a good person? Are you hearing yourself right now? What virtuous reason could he possibly have for trying to kill me and everyone else here? David: I'm sure he had a good reason. I believe that he did. Xander is not the kind of person to do anything for frivolous purposes. Teruko: You *believe* that he had a good reason!? Hah! Based on what? The 3 days you spent with a fan who was too infatuated with the ideal of you to treat you like an actual human-- David: SHUT UP!

She says all this like she wasn't play-acting her Xanruko fix-it AU with cacti, like, two days ago lol.

Teruko Cactus [2-3]: That's right. Give up now, and surrender. Then I'll consider letting you live. Xander Plant: Teruko... I've changed my mind. I promise, I will turn my back on whoever made me do this and stay by your side from now on. Do you forgive me?

I don't actually have much to say about this. Teruko's complicated feelings about Xander aren't exactly news; genuinely angry at him for attempting to murder her, also genuinely upset that things didn't go better. No wonder David's uncritical view of the guy ticked her off.

2-13 had a lot of murder solving from Teruko, which is cool but not crucial for character analysis. Meanwhile, 2-14 had quite a bit more going on.

Rose [2-14]: I... I'm sorry for being useless. Maybe if I tried harder, if I just got over myself-- Teruko: Rose. Don't blame yourself anymore. You are helpful. It's because of you that I can solve this murder. Besides... I'm as much to blame as you. Maybe more, even. If only I listened to you when you said the tape was missing, then maybe I would have realized the truth of this case much earlier. Once again, I've made a stupid mistake. I simply wanted to believe that I could make it through this killing game without relying on anyone else. That I could be dismissive of everyone around me without consequences. So I refused to listen to anyone other than myself. I thought that if I did that, then I could avoid a repeat of the last trial, where I had made the mistake of trusting people too much. But now I'm making different mistakes instead. Again and again, I keep messing up this class trial with hasty assumptions and overlooked evidence. So... Rose: ... Teruko: ... Thank you, Rose.

Yuri stays winning.

Again, it's hard for me to add any commentary when Teruko's just... explaining all the themes out loud. We go back to the idea of Teruko fixing mistakes that she seems to have taken to heart from Min's CH1 breakdown (YURI STAYS WINNING), which ties into the idea of self-betterment that Arei's scene conveyed; and we basically have Teruko stating a reworded version of her secret quote, "It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all." It makes me wonder how Teruko will behave moving forward. Will she trust a few select people? Will she continue to keep other's at arm's length, but being slightly more open? Well, based on what she does with Eden, it seems Teruko is willing to trust select people until the situation merits distrust, which is a pretty solid way of looking at things.

Speaking of that.

Eden [2-14]: I just wanted to help Arei... I didn't kill her... Teruko: You know I can't just take your words at face value, Eden. Eden: Please, Teruko... You're my friend, aren't you? Friends help each other... So please, help me... [...] Teruko: Eden. Eden: *sniffing* Teruko: Eden. Pick up your head. Look at me. At this point in the trial, since I've narrowed Arei's killer down to just two suspects, I'm going to pursue each suspect individually under the assumption that they're the killer. That way, I can see if any evidence matches up to them only. [...] So for now, I'm going to assume you're innocent. Eden: W-What? Really? Thank you so much, Teruko... Teruko: Don't... get me wrong. This isn't out of kindness or pity or anything else. This is only because you helped me in the last trial. I'm repaying your favor, and nothing else. That's why I'll trust you, just this once. Eden: Teruko... T... Thank you, Teruko... Teruko: ... Let go of me.

YURI STAYS WINNING!!!

That's what I was talking about. Choosing to trust Eden over Ace, but being willing to turn suspicion on the Clockmaker if Ace turns out innocent. A very reasonable approach! We love character development in this house.

That said, Teruko is still being a bit of a tsundere, with the whole "repaying a favor" thing. Levi parallels anyone? Well, not exactly, since Teruko does feel empathy towards Eden, but close enough. What's more interesting is that Teruko is using the exact transactional logic that Eden warned her against, which is intriguing setup for the future when it becomes more undeniable that Teruko is definitely not doing this just to repay a favor.

Also, the Trauma remains. Teruko telling Eden to let go fully completes the parallel to the Min scene, where she says the same thing (among others). I imagine our girl won't be too receptive of hugs for a while.

Before we get to the next big moment, real quick, we gotta fulfill our "Teruko's life is miserable" quota.

Teruko [to Ace, 2-15]: And three. You took the tape for first aid. Arturo: That's ridiculous. Who uses non-medical tape for first aid? That's sickening. Teruko: It's not that weird. I do it all the time.

Alright quota fulfilled. Let's move on. In this case, I'll skip to when Teruko gives up on the "show me your injuries Ace" line of reasoning.

Teruko [2-15]: No. It's fine. That's not a very fair line of logic, so forget it. You were almost murdered, after all. I should have understood that.

I don't know why Teruko really thought this line of logic was even worth following in the first place, but it makes sense for her character to ignore Ace's possible emotions in favor of the trial. But it's also cool to see her backing down when she realizes the harm she may be causing, especially as someone who has very notably hid how much her own murder attempt affected her, and in particular the wound that came from it.

Teruko [2-15]: The point of this trial is to determine who the killer is, not to determine every single little detail of what happened. It doesn't matter that you're not convinced. It's not going to help you, nor change your fate. No matter how you feel or what you think, nothing will change. [...] I've been fighting this entire trial to find the truth using real evidence. And when I make mistakes, I own up to them. What have you contributed? Show me some concrete proof of your innocence. Otherwise, shut up and stop wasting everyone's time. Ace: ... Teruko: Are you silent now? What happened to all those things you were shouting earlier? Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Ace: ... Teruko: Any evidence, any deductions to show that you're innocent? Come on, Ace! Don't you want to live?! Defend yourself!

So, a few things. First, regarding that second paragraph. "It's not going to change your fate"? "Nothing will change"? We'll circle back to it, but it seems Teruko is projecting how she feels about her own fate (before the Levi incident at least) on Ace. You could even say-

Literature Girl Insane: Even if we cry make noise shout go mad - this world won't change!

The foils ever.

Anyways, I assume that's why Teruko gets so worked up over Ace remaining silent. She sees a bit of her situation in trial 1 (almost murdered, suspected as the killer) in Ace, so her emotions run high with both the frustration of a long trial and the bad memories this is probably bringing up. At least, that's how I interpret it.

Also another mention of correcting mistakes, which shows up one more time before the episode ends, which I already mentioned as being tied back to Min and Arei; alongside with another "fate" drop. "Fate" is becoming the new "good person" isn't it :p

Teruko [2-15]: Confront the mistakes you've made. Then accept death. That's the fate of everyone who choose [sic] to participate in this killing game.

Also I find it endlessly funny that Teruko's reasoning for the Closing Argument being necessary reads a lot like "this is a DR trial we gotta do this, it's in the contract." Consider me amused.

But I've beaten around the fate bush enough. Let's get all of that over with in one fell swoop.

Teruko [2-16]: It's just... misfortune. That's why Ace killed. That's all.

Teruko [regarding her execution, 2-16]: What's the point [of running]? I should have known this would happen. [...] Even if I shield myself behind others, even if I search for an escape, it always comes down to this. I have to face the consequences of my actions. There's no escaping that. [...] Arturo: What are you talking about?? You're going to be killed!! Teruko: Killed? I doubt it. As if something so kind could happen to me. [...] I won't die, even if MonoTV puts a hundred bullets in my body. I'll only be badly injured. Possibly lose a body part. Maybe I'll even end up in a coma for months. [...] But I won't die. I never will. There's nothing I can do but accept my fate. It's what I deserve, after all. [...] I was perfectly willing to get shot. I thought I didn't have to care about what happened to other people, and especially not about what happened to me. I thought that if I lived alone and died alone, nothing would stain my conscience. Even if that was a selfish way to live. But even so...

Teruko [to MonoTV, 2-16]: Can you really say it's fate's fault for everything you've done, and pretend that you hold no blame in the matter? I have always said that my misfortune, my personality, the choices I make, everything was all a product of a bad luck that I can't control. That I grew up in such terrible circumstances, so I was destined to grow up to be a terrible person. That everyone else abandoned me, so it's not my fault that I'm alone. I want to say it's fate's fault, and that I had no choice in the matter. But, even so... Even so... Everyone. Xander, Min, Arei, Ace. Maybe even Levi. Is it my fault that they died? [...] MonoTV: You have to decide the answer for yourself. Teruko: Whether it was the fault of fate, or my fault... I already knew the answer. I had known what the answer was since a long, long time ago.

Alright I made myself sad, so something's been achieved, I guess. Poor Teruko :(

Just to start somewhere, we get confirmation of Teruko's suicidal tendencies in the present, which was already implied strongly enough, but now she straight up says she considers death something "kind to her." Just sad in general, but I wonder if there will be some discussions of it with the fellow suicidal characters like Hu. In fact, I wonder if that's the reason that Hu was the one to see the scar on Teruko's back during 2-2; so she'd have a vague idea of Teruko's backstory for some interaction in the future.

But the main point of these scenes is Teruko's relationship with the concept of fate. She basically goes through an entire character arc from the moment she says Ace's murder was just misfortune to right after Levi jumps in to save her. Basically, she used to blame fate (or "bad luck") for everything she did and what happened to her, thinking that just accepting this fate would allow her to live more easily. Especially noticeable because part of her "bad luck" is being betrayed, which gives way to her trust issues.

Teruko [2-2]: If I get in a car, it'll crash. If I stand in a construction site, it'll crumble to dust. If I trust others, they'll turn their back on me.

Hence her internal monologue about "living so nothing stains my conscience." If everything that happens to her is fate's fault, then she doesn't have to change, she doesn't have to confront her faults. Even when she talked about accepting the consequences for her actions, it was always in the context of accepting her fate. If she just accepts whatever consequences her actions bring, then she can excuse herself from fighting back against that, which is an easier way to live, but as she says, could be considered selfish. What's easier for Teruko is not always best for others, exemplified perfectly by Levi protecting her; Teruko chose not to fight her fate, and it got Levi hurt. Funnily enough, this somewhat parallels Hu feeling selfish for not sharing her secret, which is fun contrast. Hu is more justified in not sharing her secret, so it shows that feeling selfish for doing things that are good for you can be pretty bad. Meanwhile, Teruko shows that not taking others into account can also end up hurting people.

Of course, the whole "not fighting fate" thing also obviously parallels Mr Literature Boy Insane's feelings on the whole thing, to the point where they have practically the same character flaw. Believing themselves and others unable to change as a result of fate is the way they try living with themselves, because of the whole self-loathing thing, but that means they're resistant to changing their flaws. MonoTV says similar things, but it's a machine so it's not so much a flaw as just the nature of its character. It was a flaw Arei had, though, but she grew out of it through Character Development, similarly to the way it's implied Teruko is growing out of the "all fate's fault" mindset in the last inner monologue. You might also notice that tying fate into self-betterment allows you to draw a connection to the theme of admitting mistakes and fixing them, tying to Min who is also connected to the concept of fate through her entire backstory of being "destined" to be the Ultimate Student from the moment her family accepted XF-Ture's Tech contract, and obviously Min contrasts Xander who is all about fighting fate as the Ultimate Rebel, and that's without mentioning all the other "fate" bullshit going on and-

Yeah you get the idea. Too much peak for me to write it all out.

Very excited to see where Teruko's character goes now that she's not going to blame her bad luck for everything now. I worry she'll swing too hard the other way and end up blaming herself for things she shouldn't, but oh well, that's just more character development to be had.

That was the biggest Teruko thing, but there's still more to cover.

Teruko [to Ace, 2-16]: If you can't [attack MonoTV]... If you can't do that, then tell me, why did Arei have to die?! Ace: ... Teruko: It's because unlike Arei, *you* couldn't make amends with the people you made enemies out of. *You* were too scared to confront the people you hurt, say you're sorry, and promise to be a better person. So instead you took out your own personal problems on other people by murdering someone who had nothing to do with you! Arei died because you're a coward, Ace!

Uh... someone's projecting~

Teruko [already linked, 2-2]: But if you start talking about me and saying that I could be a good person if only I make an attempt to change, then I'm going to stop you right there. Don't say that I could be a good person, because all it'll do is make me feel bad that I'm not.

Damn it's almost like she hates herself because she already knows deep down that her mindset is flawed and so when she sees someone else behaving like she does/did she gets upset at them that's crazy :O

(I mean it's not 1:1 because Teruko never did anything as bad as Ace, but the point stands :v)

Final note, as always, voice acting was peak, just that there's too many good examples to point them all out one by one. Same with Levi btw, I think I forgot to mention it in his section.

Teruko continues to be probably my favorite protag of any DR or DR inspired story, though as always I'm working on a small sample size. Really excited to see her development in the future!

Ace Markey

Well if it isn't the man of the hour! It's only natural the blackened gets to close things out. Let's do the same thing as we did with Teruko and go by (mostly) chronological order.

That includes the quick, retrospective observation that a lot of Ace's behavior in the trial and investigation now needs to be re-analyzed with the understanding he's the blackened. It mostly just adds an extra layer to Ace's constant accusations towards Nico, though, since Ace didn't really do much most of the trial. The only other notable thing he did was revealing David's secret, and even then, nothing too big. I know it's a bit silly to go so hard on Nico when David is almost easier to frame, but this is Ace we're talking about. He's emotional and not quite the most strategic, so nothing weird there.

Although, speaking of Ace knowing about David's secret, why did he not hear the end of the Arei-David conversation? I doubt he's hiding it, because he doesn't really have a reason to, so apparently he just, like, left. I guess he just didn't care enough :p

Finally getting to PT 2 itself, we have a 2-13 speech we skipped earlier, don't we?

Levi [2-13]: I don't personally care what happens to Ace. Whether he lives or dies is none of my concern in the end. Ace: ...?! Levi: But it is a "good" thing to make sure someone else doesn't die, even if I personally do not care about the outcome. I truly believe that. But I adhere to that principle out of duty, not sentimentality. Does that make any sense? Ace: You... Hah. Hahaha. You-- You fucking piece of shit. Levi: ... Ace: I was right all along. That you felt bad for me... That you actually wanted to help me... That even if everyone here treated me like shit, there was at least one person who still cared about me... That shit's too good to be true, isn't it? Yeah, good thing I didn't fall for that in the slightest. Not one bit. I was totally right all along to burn our friendship-- No, I can't even call it "friendship." There's only one person in my whole life who I've ever been able to call my friend. That I ever thought, even for just a short time, that you and I were "friends" is an insult to his memory. I probably sound real pathetic admitting that. But I'm not nearly as pathetic as you. After all, you're a piece of trash who probably has never had a single friend in your life. Levi: ... Ace: Got nothing to say to me now? That's fine. Hey, Levi. I really hope you fucking die.

Okay there is... so much to unpack there. Let's... start by the smaller thing, which is the Taylor Riley drop in "there's only one person in my whole life who I've ever been able to call my friend." This guy's name was revealed in a now deleted CH2 PT1 QnA answer, alongside with the name of a friend of Veronika's who gave her her green triangle earring, Alyssa Belyaeva. We got main series confirmation of the name in one of the graves of Thanatophobia, alongside the names of Elliot Cuevas and Felicity Giles.

We know... zero about Taylor, apart from the fact that he was Ace's friend and is now very evidently dead. Thankfully, we get a bit more context on his death by one of Ace's comments:

Ace [2-16]: Execute me right now, you hear me, MonoTV? MonoTV: ... Ace: Because... Because Levi is gonna fucking die, and I'm going to have a third goddamn death on my hands!

Third, huh? Arei, the hypothetical Levi death, and presumably Taylor. Sure, the third could be Ace himself, but I feel the line makes a bit more sense with Taylor.

So, Ace blames himself for the death of Taylor. Given he liked the guy, probably not intentional murder, but who knows what the hell he did. At this point, we really have no way to deduce the way Taylor died or how Ace could have caused it somehow, though. Maybe we'll get some answers in the Bonus Episode? Hopefully :p

But that's the easy part. The hard part is Ace's feelings towards Levi. Immediately, we can tell the whole "I never thought you cared about me, not one bit" thing is a complete lie, not just because the line itself is extremely unconvincing, but because of something Ace says later in this episode.

Ace [to Levi, 2-13]: You piece of shit. I can't believe there used to be a time I actually liked you.

So, yeah. Similarly, based on the fact that Ace wanted MonoTV to speed up the execution to try and save Levi's life despite his fear of death, we can infer that Ace is also lying when he tells Levi "I really hope you fucking die."

No, Ace really does care about Levi. For the reason stated at... some point in this analysis; Ace feels safer around Levi. And that creates a bit of a problem for him, because if he wants to escape the killing game, he's gonna have to kill Levi to do it. It's unclear if that's the reason he originally pushed Levi away, "burning their friendship to the ground" in his words, or if he just didn't want to trust him after the death threat in trial 1. However, guilt over trying to get Levi killed is definitely part of why he says this:

Ace [2-16]: I knew... I knew that I wasn't allowed to call [Levi] a murderer. I had no right to act betrayed, because I was the one who betrayed everyone. But still, I...! Levi: Why-- Ace: But still, I--! I don't care what it was! I don't care if it made me a hypocrite! Even if I was completely in the wrong, and even if it made my life worse! I just needed a reason to stay mad at you, any reason at all, goddamnit! Levi: Why? Why do you have to force yourself to be angry at me? You just said you know that you're in the wrong, so why do you still do it?! I don't understand. I can't understand you, no matter how hard I try. Ace: Good! Stay that way! I hope you never understand me, even after I'm buried a billion miles deep in the ground and you're weeping at my grave, you piece of shit!

Ace tries very hard to find reasons to hate Levi because he's afraid of growing close to anyone in the killing game, mostly because he thinks he'll be betrayed, but by the point he starts plotting murder, also because he's trying to kill them all. Being close to them is a good way to feel more horrible about himself than he already does.

To be clear, the reason I say the first reason is more important is because I think I can more or less pinpoint the moment Ace starts thinking about murder, and by that point he's already trying to cut Levi off.

Ace [2-2]: In this killing game, everyone is out to get me. Especially people who love picking fights with me, people like you [Teruko] and Levi. I can't believe I wasted my time with all that dumb shit like arm wrestling and running around screaming at meaningless stuff. I was fucking stupid to not take this killing game seriously from the start. I'm done with being everyone's kickable scaredy cat. The only thing I should do is look out for myself and myself alone.

Well he sure did take the killing game seriously after this point now didn't he?

Obviously, this is a pretty direct parallel to the way Teruko tried pushing everyone away in this chapter, and the way David pretends not to care about Arei after the magical girl transformation. More on this whole thing in a bit.

The relationship between Levi and Ace is one of contrast. Levi, who doesn't actually care about Ace the "usual way", chooses to try to get closer to him. Meanwhile, Ace cares about Levi maybe too much, and his fear of this attachment drives him to push Levi away. The yaoi truly is doomed with this one. Moving on.

Ace [to Nico and Hu, 2-14]: You two are a real fucking joke. It would have been one thing if Nico gets away scot-free with trying to kill me, but now they apparently also have a fucking defense brigade to shield them from even having to think about the fact that they're a murderer. Who's gonna stick up for me, huh? No one. Because I have a spine and I don't need other people to lie to me constantly to keep me happy.

Ace [to Nico, 2-14]: You tried to murder me. You fucking tried to murder me! And after all's said and done, you can't even say something as simple as "sorry"?!

Ace [to Teruko, 2-15]: Were you convinced by Eden because she had a little sob story ready? Should I start crying and wailing too to change your mind? Teruko-- No, everyone here. You're always attacking me for stupid reasons. Everyone always has it out for me. That pisses me off. All of you piss me off.

Ace [2-15]: You all actually think I'm too goddamn stupid to accomplish anything? Do you really think I'm 2 seconds away from choking on my own spit and passing out?

This is where we start to see Ace's persecution complex on this part, which was already alluded to in the previously linked 2-2 Ace quote. He thinks everyone is out to get him, and to an extent, he's not horribly wrong. Very few people in the cast have favorable opinions on Ace, and he knows that if he gets revealed as a murderer, that "few people" will likely turn to "no one." I mean, not even Levi wants to defend him.

Ace [2-15]: Hah... I expected everyone else to get on my ass, but for you of all people to think I'm the murderer... What happened to ever wanting to make things up, huh? Besides, between you and me, we both know who's really a murderer.

And hell, Nico's already tried to kill him! Ace is the victim in that situation, even if he did "start it."

Which gets us to one of the most interesting moral quandaries this trial presents us with, Milgram style. Because the thing is, Ace has given the cast reasons to dislike him. Ever since the start, he's been confrontational, insulting, and just generally not the most delightful person to be around. Especially to Nico, who he specifically targeted to bully. Obviously it doesn't justify being horrible to him back, including things like Hu's slap and Levi's death threat, and especially Nico's murder attempt, but... well, if people don't feel about Ace the same way they feel about some of the calmer cast members, there's a reason for it.

How justified is the cast in the things they say about Ace? How much of it is Ace's responsibility, and how much is it the cast's? How much responsibility do they hold for creating the hostile environment that pushed Ace into murder? How does the mastermind and the killing game itself factor into this valuation? These are all interesting questions the series asks us to ponder on, and by their nature don't have any one right answer. Especially because "blame for a thing that happened" isn't a number that can be evenly divided by percentage, it's a very complicated and subjective thing. J puts it pretty well in her speech to Ace in 2-15, giving her perspective as well.

J [2-15]: Maybe I was too harsh on you. Me and everyone else here, I don't think a single one of us stopped to think where the breaking point is. ...But. Murder is unacceptable, no matter what. Your problems might be awful, and they might be the worst in the world, but they're still not so bad that killing 13 people is acceptable. You can't be forgiven as a murderer just because your life sucks.

My personal opinions on this are probably best saved for when we get the full picture in just a moment.

And speaking of the full picture, since Ace's persecution complex feeds into his fear of death, why don't we skip right into the big speech?

Ace [already linked in the Hu section, 2-15]: ...... God damn it. I'm such a piece of shit. [...] You're right. I'm screwed. There's no way I'm making it out of this trial alive. I just... wanted to stall for time. I'm scared of dying, I really am. [...] I killed Arei. That's exactly right. Shit, it sounds really bad when I say it out loud. [...] Hu: Did you kill Arei because of MonoTV's motive? Because you wanted to keep your 'secret' hidden-- Ace: Hell no! I don't give a damn about that motive, or my dumb little secret, you idiot fuckwad! Who do you think I am, you?! *sigh* That wasn't why I killed her. I was scared of dying, that's all. [...]

Quick thing, but I think it's cool that the motive really had jack shit to do with the murder. Hate to bring the guy up so much, but it helps make David's "plan" of revealing all the secrets unequivocally wrong, which I feel is important for some of the themes of the chapter. In particular, the idea that gets pushed that everyone should be allowed to reveal their secrets at their own time, aka privacy is important. Nico's public secret reveal happened before they were ready to share, and that was a bad thing, after all. And a lot of the conflict in this chapter came from MonoTV giving the motives in general.

Ace [continued]: I'm definitely going to die in this killing game if I don't escape. Everyone hates me, right? Because I'm a volatile asshole who can't help but pick fights and make people mad at me. Veronika was right. If pushed to kill, everyone would feel the least guilt if they killed me. They might even have some sort of grudge. I wouldn't be surprised. When Nico tried to kill me, that just confirmed it. There's a part of me that's a little pissed that Nico didn't succeed back then, because that would have saved me the trouble of having to go through this stupid-ass farce. Although I'd be real fuckin' pissed if they *did* successfully kill me. I'm kind of pissed at Nico for trying to kill me, either way. Nico: ...

Interesting to hear part of Ace wanted Nico to succeed. It certainly speaks to a great level of defeatism, where everything is horrible and death would be preferable, which parallels Teruko nicely. That defeatism for Ace comes partly from the persecution complex discussed earlier, and some other stuff we'll talk about in a moment.

Ace [continued]: But still! If I didn't kill someone and escape... then I was going to die. I'm fucking terrified of dying! I can't sleep at night because I keep thinking about how I'm going to die young in this goddamn killing game! I didn't want to die! I want to live. Just like everyone else. Live, and escape this killing game, and go back to my shitty life where I can't do anything on my own because I can't control myself. Back to that life where I can't do anything but a sport that I hate because I suck shit at everything else. I was forced into that fate, to kill someone because I'm scared. It was either that, or I would be killed first. There were no other options for me, because I'm a coward who can't fight my own fate. [...]

I think an underrated part of Ace's character is just how much damn symbolism is hidden in his talent.

The first connection is the more or less obvious "if I didn't kill someone, I would be killed first" mentality, where Ace literally views the killing game as a race to be the first blackened to get away with it. But that's almost an extension of the other connection.

You hear it from him here; he feels he completely lacks control of his life, that it's all decided by a fate he can't control, the same way that a jockey doesn't walk on their own, but rather is carried by a horse to their destination. And it's no wonder that this feeling of lacking control is referenced in his secret quote, "I don’t know what to do with myself anymore." After all, it's this feeling of lacking control of himself and his situation that causes him to seek control of anything he can, be it bullying Nico because he sees them as an easy target, distancing himself from others because it's easier to control his feelings that way, killing someone because it's the only way he can control his place in the killing game, or anything else I might be forgetting.

And this fear of lacking control is probably part of his fear of death, isn't it? Because no one can control what happens after death. Maybe yes, maybe not, but regardless, Ace's thanatophobia is pretty evident. I mean, it's the name of his execution, and it's a fitting one. Ultimately, Ace's fear of death is what gets him killed, both metaphorically because it's the reason he became a blackened, and literally because he dies of a fear-induced cardiac arrest. That, alongside with the incredible art and banger music, is why I consider Thanatophobia one of, if not the single best DR style execution I've ever seen. Simply peak.

Ace [continued]: Do you think I give a crap about you all? Why would that matter to me? No one gives a crap about me either! None of you even respect me enough to think I was capable of killing Arei! In fact, that made me feel way less guilty about killing-- [J makes her anti-murder speech] Ace: ... I know that [I can't be forgiven]. I'm the one who murdered Arei, so of course I know that. Arei... She was a piece of shit too. Just like me. Even if she said all that nice bullshit to Eden, there was no guarantee that she really was going to change and become a good person. Maybe if she lived, then by tomorrow she'd be right back to her annoying bitchy self. ... But at least she was trying. And I can't even change one thing about myself. Not my shitty job, not my shitty personality, nor my shitty life. I really am a piece of shit, huh?

At the end of the day, Ace is his own worst enemy. What really gets Ace killed (apart from the already mentioned fear of death) is the inability to change, to see the flaws in the way he behaves himself and try to better himself. Or, rather, he does see the flaws, he knows he's a target of the killing game because of his aggressiveness and that he drove himself into a corner out of fear, but he considers himself incapable of changing that. Changing is difficult, and Ace is scared to even try. Like he says, maybe Arei couldn't have managed it either, but she was trying. And that's what ultimately separates the two.

In case it isn't obvious, my take on who's to blame for everything that happened is pretty much squarely on Ace. Sure, there were things the others did to Ace which aren't justified, but you can't blame people for disliking someone that knows he's unlikable and cannot find it in himself to try to change that. Arei tried to change; she died a good person. Levi tried to make amends for trial 1; he's a good person too. The tragedy of the situation is that Ace himself could have been a good person too, because everyone can be, but it's a decision that must be made, as Eden put it earlier in the chapter. And it's a difficult one, too difficult for Ace.

Teruko, David, all these people... they can also be "good people," in the sense of always trying to be "less shitty together" in Arei's words. Ace is a cautionary tale of how not doing so can end up really, really badly.

Which is the setup for Teruko and David's continued foiling, isn't it? Teruko will presumably look at all of Ace's flaws (lack of trust, unwillingness to change, accepting fate without fighting it) as pitfalls to avoid, because of how similar the two of them acted in CH2. Meanwhile, David, since he heard Arei's speech and knows just how hard she tried to change, will see those same flaws as strengths. In his eyes, Arei died because she trusted the note, because she tried to change, because she tried to defy her nature. At least, that's my prediction. Where all of that will go is anyone's guess.

But, how do we know that Ace could have been a good person? How do we know that it isn't David who is right, that neither Ace nor Arei could have ever gotten better, had they simply tried? Well, simply put, because in the end, Ace does start changing. As a final, tragic note, Ace's ability to confront fate and try to correct his flaws only surfaces when it's far too late. And not only when he punches MonoTV, though that also is a good example of it, but also when he chooses to face execution quicker in an attempt to save Levi.

Ace [already linked, 2-16]: Execute me right now, you hear me, MonoTV? MonoTV: ... Ace: Because... Because Levi is gonna fucking die, and I'm going to have a third goddamn death on my hands! Arturo: E-Even then, there's no guarantee that he'll live--- Ace: Shut up! What the hell are you talking about? Aren't you a surgeon? Can't you fix him? Arturo: I--! I'm not that kind of surgeon! I've told you, over and over, I have no experience with saving lives! Something like this! There's no way I can do it-- Ah! Ace: SHUT UP! Shut up, Arturo! You *can* save his life! Shut the fuck up! Stop saying you can't do it, because you can! Don't you understand? I'm going to die right now, and you're going to live! So decide whether you want to at least *try* and put in some fucking effort for once, or keep making excuses for yourself like a sniveling coward for the rest of your life. I don't even get to make that decision anymore! Stop complaining, you whiny little shit! Grow some fucking balls and save someone's goddamn life, asshole! Because you can!

There's layers to Ace's shouting barrage at Arturo. Obviously part of it is just Ace trying to convince himself that Arturo can save Levi so he can die with a relatively clearer conscience, but there's also a sort of self-awareness of Ace's faults in the things he says. Try swapping "save Levi's life" for "be a better person," and pretend it's being said to Ace by someone else who is about to die.

You *can* [be a good person]! Shut the fuck up! Stop saying you can't do it, because you can! Don't you understand? I'm going to die right now, and you're going to live! So decide whether you want to at least *try* and put in some fucking effort for once, or keep making excuses for yourself like a sniveling coward for the rest of your life. I don't even get to make that decision anymore! Stop complaining, you whiny little shit! Grow some fucking balls and [be a better person], asshole! Because you can!

Because moments ago, it was Ace who was making excuses like a coward for why he felt he would never be a good person, and why he had no control over his shitty personality that made everyone hate him and made him a target of the killing game, etc. He never put in the effort to change because he thought it was pointless, that he was unable to, and didn't realize the falseness of that preconception until he was faced with death. Seems I was on the right track when I connected his thanatophobia to his issues with control; death robs him of the decision to try and be a good person ("I don't even get to make that decision anymore!"), which he hadn't even realized he had until that moment.

It's no wonder Ace was a popular survivor guess; he could have changed, could have been a good person. And despite the harm he's caused, the way he robbed Arei of the opportunity to do what he couldn't and attempt to change, the intention he had of killing everyone in the trial, his death remains a tragedy for the hypothetical of what could have been. Maybe if Levi had managed to properly reach him the way Eden reached Arei, this could have all been avoided. But alas, Ace didn't accept the hand strectched out to him, and now it's too late to fix things.

I said during my reactions that I felt just as emotional during Ace's execution as I did with Min's, which was certainly true and very impressive given my massive bias towards the Ultimate Student. And while I can't say that I'll miss Ace as much as I miss Min (because come on), I'll certainly hold him close to my heart for as long as I live regardless.

As a final note, holy shit the voice acting. If I pointed out every line where the acting for Ace was spectacular, I would be here all day. I doubt I need to elaborate on this; the sheer perfection of the performance should be obvious to anyone who can hear it. Godspeed Seth Raffield, you truly were incredible. Can't wait to hear what you do in the Bonus Episode, provided there is one.

---

I am free! Holy shit that took way too fucking long. I need to figure out a better way to do this shit for later chapters, because geez. You have no idea how much Tumblr's drafts lagged because of this shit, I had to write the final sections in different drafts and copy paste them over because it was unbearable. Not to mention hitting the goddamn link limit which is just clinically insane from me. Anyways, if you somehow managed to read all of that, I feel genuinely sorry for you. You know you can be a good person if you try, right? There's no need to punish yourself like this.

I'm being silly, of course. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

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ghost-proofbaby · 5 months ago

Text

never love an anchor (e.m. x reader)

"On some level, I think I always understood that a ship could never really love an anchor."

warnings: severe hurt/brief comfort, suicidal ideations, severely depressed reader. again: detailed recount of suicidal ideations. dead dove: do not eat.

wc: 5.8k+

an: i cannot emphasize this enough - this fic deals with a severely depressed, and blatantly suicidal reader. it is extremely heavy. it is extremely triggering. it is extremely self-indulgent. the romance aspect is ambiguous and the comfort aspect at the end is brief. this is a genuine, and sincerely personal piece of writing. it is an outline of how suicidal ideations may present themselves to some people. of these 5k words, 4k is deeply littered with reader's ideations without sugar coating. please, please, please do not read this unless you're in the state of mind to read it. you've surely heard it before but i'll say it just to be sure: it is a permanent solution for temporary feelings. and, just in case no one has told you, i'm glad you're alive. if you're reading this, i'm glad that you're alive. you're enough.

if you find yourself feeling like reader, i urge that you find resources such as those linked. hotlines, therapists, friends, your doctor, your family - please. i do not wish these emotions upon anyone, and they should never be taken lightly.

that being said, here are my guts from a very vulnerable moment, spilled out across the page. please handle them with care if you choose to read.

Technically speaking, the pressure that the human body is capable of handling almost seems infinite. When introduced slowly, and time is given to adjust, there is no pinpointed amount of pressure that dooms the human body. Like a crab in slow boiling water, your body should be theoretically able to handle a steady increase, bit by bit, and never truly notice.

So why does it currently feel like you’re dying?

The pressure was never an overnight thing. It was a conglomeration you’d gathered, piece by piece, collecting little souvenirs of all the responsibilities you can’t currently remember if you’d ever agreed to along the way. It hadn’t been sudden, it hadn’t been with lack of adjusting, it hadn’t been a pressure suddenly unloaded upon you all at once – you’d done this, brick by brick, all with your own two hands.

Keeping up with friends, keeping up with work, keeping up with expectations. Always trying to run ahead of the curve, always trying to be better. You should be fine. You shouldn’t even notice. You shouldn’t be sobbing on your bathroom floor, clutching the edge of your porcelain tub, every single breath a labor of survival.

It feels like every bone in your body is splintering. It feels like the world has cracked open your ribs, one by one, just for show. You don’t feel poetic like the movies, you don’t feel like a valuable lesson learned in the books. You feel as though you’ve become nothing more than some crude display in a contemporary art gallery, and you were the one to hang yourself on the wall.

Needles prickle across your skin with another heaving sob, as if you can feel the push pins you’ve used to spread yourself out for consumption.

We still on for tonight?

The text from Eddie glares at you from your phone discarded on the floor mere inches away. You’re lucky the screen hadn’t broken when you’d thrown it down on the ground on your way to the toilet, dry heaving through all your tears.

He wasn’t a part of the issue. If anything, he was part of the solution.

A shining clean slate, pristine whites and a scratch-free surface for you to press your cheek to when it all got a bit much. An abyss of freedom and openness for when the world was all a bit smothering. An anchor to cling to, a rope to tie around your wrists to keep from floating too far. The willow tree in a graveyard to rest your back against, the caress of a warm sun even if only momentarily as you stared out across headstones of all the pieces of you that you can never get back. Every version of you that has long since buried, a few even with newly churned dirt resting upon them. Something soft, something sacred, to rest your hands upon.

Why does he still let you rest your bloodied and dirtied palms on his shoulders? Did he ever agree to that to begin with?

You can’t remember. Or maybe your brain is simply refusing to recall.

I hate to cancel, but I’m sick. I don’t think I can come out tonight :-(

What? Is everything okay? Are you okay? Do I need to bring you anything?

Please don’t.

The please is what gives you away. You should have forgone it, should have offered him a lighthearted response instead.

But there is a pit in the bottom of your stomach, and seeing all the question marks across his text only made it more terminal. Only gave it more reason to swallow you whole. Only gave it more reason to grow and to tangle up and to restrict each stuttering breath of yours that you can’t seem to steady.

Another buzz comes from your phone, but you don’t look to read it. You resort to resting your forehead against the lip of your toilet, all attempts at a deep breath futile as you finally taste the salt across your lips.

Were you too much? Were you not enough? Was it possible to be an odd juxtaposition of both?

A harrowing thought crosses your mind, and you know if Eddie could read minds across the intricate webbing that connects cell phones, he’d grab you by your shoulders. Maybe shake you until you see sense, or maybe cling to you until the thought has faded into nothingness. As if he could squeeze you hard enough to press together all the splinters that are left of your bones, forming a new body – a better body. One that can handle the pressure. One that isn’t imploding upon itself. A more durable mind, a more capable suit of skin to occupy.

Does it even matter anymore? Would it even matter if I simply vanished?

Would it be so bad to let the pit finally consume you? To just give in, to let it erase you from existence. To finally wave your white flag and let the awfulness inside of you finally win the battle, erasing you from existence and leaving behind an empty space in the world that could be filled with someone better.

Someone who could be a better friend. Someone who could be a harder worker. Someone who wasn’t choked up on their bathroom floor, beginning to contemplate if the painful gasps were even worth it.

Were you worth it? Were you worth the air in your lungs? Or could it better serve someone who could handle all the pressure?

And it wasn’t even that much pressure to begin with, if you pick it apart thread by thread. It was the natural weight of the human experience, and you were still crumbling.

There was a full bottle of ibuprofen in the cabinet. There was a busy street not far from your home. There was a bathtub that could easily be filled with water – you’d never been good at holding your breath, unless someone counted the last few months, in which that seemed to be all you were good at.

There was even a bridge, 5.27 miles away from your house exactly. You could already envision the patch of grass you could park your car at, feel the drop in temperature as you stood and overlooked the tame waves of a man-made lake.

Maybe your feet didn’t even have to leave the pavement. Maybe it would be enough to just stand in the silence and see the jump with your own two eyes.

You felt like nothing more than a ghost of yourself, yes, but maybe. Maybe, just maybe, there would still be a broken shard within you that could stir awake at it all. Maybe if you got up off the bathroom floor and set yourself into motion, it would open its eyes just in time to scream no.

Ghosts don’t just appear. They were a vibrant soul once – they were somebody once.

But it’s hard to imagine that you ever were. When it gets like this, it’s hard to push through all the tumultuous thoughts and loathly emotions to remember that. A version of you vibrant, a version of you that might have been worthy, if only for a moment.

A version of you that wasn’t insulting to compare to others. That was capable of progress, of earning your blip of existence.

You don’t want the bottle of ibuprofen. You don’t want the busy street. You don’t want the overflowing tub. You don’t even want the calm of the bridge. You just want it to stop.

There’s a knock on your front door that echoes through the entire apartment. You dread that you already know who it is, but you can’t get up to answer.

You can’t move from this very spot. You’re terrified of what will happen when you do.

Will your bones collapse into ash upon the floor? Will you make one wrong move, and in a fit of pressure, make a terribly permanent decision for what feels like a terribly permanent feeling?

Maybe you were born with the pit in your stomach. Maybe you were born with that black hole inside of you. Cursed to always be yearning, always be a juxtaposition, always be a ghost of what could have become.

You think you hear the click of your front door opening. You think you hear heavy footsteps across the hardwood floors. You think, you think, you think. That’s the issue.

The tears are still coming and going in erratic tides. The salt is drying out your lips, your cheeks, the corners of your eyes. You’d thought you’d been incapable of any more emotions like this, but your tear ducts have managed to prove you wrong.

Does it even matter anymore?

You’d left the bathroom door wide open.

Were you worth it?

You’d been home alone – past tense.

A more durable mind, a more capable suit of skin to occupy.

A soft gasp of your name has you microscopically lifting your head from the toilet seat. You know what the scene looks like; it looks like nothing more than the excuse you’d used. You look as though you’re ill, like you’ve been spilling your guts across the bathroom floor all night.

If you had been, would it all feel a little less heavy?

“Hey, Eds.”

You’re tired. You’re exhausted. Your voice is nothing more than a drag of a whisper as you look up at your anchor standing in the doorway, his face painted with concern.

Maybe you were an anchor – maybe being an anchor wasn’t a good thing. After all, what use does an anchor have beyond weighing down the ship?

“Jesus,” he mutters as he rushes to your side, falling to his knees carelessly as his hand flies out to brush back tendrils of your hair, “You look like shit.”

You felt like shit.

Selfishly, you lean into his touch, desperate for comfort. Desperate for those caring palms to soothe the ache you’d carried since birth. Desperate to hear him tell you that you’re wrong – hands to promise you that you’re worthy, fingers to wrap around your bones rather than these burning ropes. You’re bloodied and raw, fully on display, and you just want to be okay.

You don’t want the bridge. You want Eddie. You want him to magically make it okay, and that’s unfair.

You’re not his weight to carry, not his burden to shoulder.

After far too long of a silence, one in which he sits patiently in with you, all you can really reply is a broken, “Yeah.”

Immediately, he knows something is wrong. Because of course he does.

Because he’s a good friend. He’s a good person. He has the right words more often than not, and his hands were always formed to heal rather than injure. Create rather than destroy. Those warm palms are made to hold the space he’s earned in the grand scheme of the Universe, and it almost makes you nauseous as the jealousy spreads.

He’s good.

And you’re simply rotten.

You used to lie to yourself and say it was simply one rotted bit amongst plenty of good, but tonight, it all seemingly comes to clarity. You can’t dig out the bad, cleanse yourself of the rot, because it’s all decay.

You don’t have to let the pit consume you – it already has. You were born with it, and it had swallowed you whole from the first cry that had ever left your lips.

He makes himself a bit more comfortable, and you almost feel bad for reducing him to nothing more than the bathroom floor, “You wanna talk about what’s really wrong?”

“I’m sick.”

“This isn’t just some stomach bug.”

Your throat begins to tighten again, and suddenly, his gentle touch across the crown of your head burns. Your eyes water ferociously, and your chest caves into itself.

You can��t make a better body or a more sound mind out of the mess you’ve become. You can’t pull gold from tarnished rubble.

Confessing to him will only be handing over something heavy, something terrible, that he shouldn’t have to struggle with as well. But not offering him a sliver of the truth almost feels more dishonoring.

“Do you ever feel like a waste of space?” you croak, leaning back, finally accepting that the small space of the toilet that had been cooling your face has gone warm. Another thing you’ve ruined, in hindsight, “Like, this world is filled with great people, and I just… I just, I’m taking up the space- I’m wasting the space-”

You can’t get out the proper words. You don’t know how.

How do you say you want to cease to exist when you’re not really sure if that’s the truth? You’re miserable, and you’re selfish, and you’re not entirely sure your feet would have ever left the pavement if you had driven yourself to the bridge. You’d be too scared to do it.

Too scared to miss the day that science announces it’s found a cure to all your rot, a miracle drug to erase the pit, a way to reverse all the damage you’ve been comprised of your whole life.

His brows furrow and his hand stops all the calming movements, “What? Are you- are you saying you feel like a waste of space?”

It feels silly to admit it to other people. To try and describe how it all feels. Like a child trying to convince their parents the Boogeyman is real, you have to make him see that you’re right. You have evidence, you have proof, and it’s not just a feeling.

“I don’t feel like I’m a waste of space,” you finally correct, both yourself and him, “I know I’m a waste of space.”

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie, don’t-”

“No,” he cuts you off. And somehow, in only a way that he’s capable of, it’s not offensive, “You’re not. I’m not going to sit here and listen to my favorite person claim they’re wasting space-”

“I am!” It’s your turn in the cycle of interruption. You pull away from him entirely, chest heaving with the weight presenting itself once more, tears starting to fall all over again. You can’t even distinguish where the old tears stop and the new ones begin, “I really am. All I seem to do lately is just exist. And that’s such a- such a- that’s such a waste. I can’t read any of the things I should enjoy these days, I can’t even write. All of the words feel like they just come out wrong. I’m letting everyone down left and right, I’m never living up to whatever pedestal you’ve put me on. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life. I don’t even know where I’ll be in a year from now – I can’t even see that far in the future.”

Heaves become sobs, and the crumbling has begun once more. A cycle of breaking, a cycle of demolition. Even leaving behind the rubble feels like a crime. A waste of space.

“I don’t think I’m a good person,” you manage to spit out between all your visceral reactions, “Every year, I tell myself the same thing – I’ll be better, I’ll be kinder, I’ll be worth it. And every year, I fail.”

Can he see it? All the fractures and splinters and pits and metaphors?

Can he smell it? All the rot and the destruction and hopelessness?

Can he feel it? All the pressure?

Through your sniffles, you press your back to the tub, knees to your chin as you wrap your arms around your legs, desperately trying to shrivel up. To take up less space. To waste less space.

“I used to think I could make up for it,” you whisper, “I could offer people things that made them forget I’m… so useless. But I don’t think I’m even capable of that anymore.”

If he’s about to respond, it’s drowned out by your cries. You press your eyes hard into your kneecaps, until you see stars, and you try to swallow down all the embarrassment. Try to stop all the hurt from spilling out, to stop all your guts from painting the bathroom walls.

He could simply sit there, let you wallow in your misery alone. Sit and stare as the artwork finally serves its purpose to the visitors of the gallery. Maybe jot down some commentary on how with your bones all spread out like this, the point the artist was attempting to make becomes oh so clear.

And yet, he doesn’t.

You know it’s his arms that are wrapping around you, pulling you from the chill of the tub and into the warmth of his chest. And you let yourself smother within the fabric of his shirt the same exact way in which you’ve convinced yourself you smother everyone around you, let yourself breathe in drugstore cologne and his last cigarette rather than think about all the thoughts that had been spiraling you into dismay over the last twenty four hours – over the last twenty four years.

He’d probably been smoking while waiting on your call tonight. Probably riddled with anxiety, if the shake of his hands pressing into your back are anything to go off of. An anxiety and waiting game that wouldn’t have to exist if you didn’t exist.

The thought makes you cry harder.

If a ghost dies, can it even still return back as itself? Can it still find it within itself to haunt empty hallways, and watch the ones it once loved find peace?

“You’re not useless,” it sounds as though Eddie might be crying as well, if not just a little choked up, “You’re not- I swear- You’re not useless, okay? Never have been, never will be.”

His murmured words are nice, but they fuel an unimaginable guilt. It was supposed to be a nice night. A night of movie marathons and midnight coffee, of trying to remind yourself why you still stick around. A moment of incomparable joy and sweet reprieve as your stomach ached from laughter, your cheeks swelling with an infallible grin that Eddie always seems to pull out of you.

There’s no smiling, no giggling, right now. Just his favorite band shirt from the show you two had attended a few years before, soaking with a fast-growing stain from all your tears.

When you don’t answer him, only manage to wrap your selfish arms around his waist, he continues, “How long have you felt this way, sweetheart?”

And if you hadn’t already been shattered previously, that would have finally broken you.

You can’t pinpoint when it started. You can’t clear the smoke of memories and find an exact moment that you can point to and say, there. That’s where the hurt starts — that’s where the rot starts.

“I don’t know.”

In your mind, it’s a wail. Loud and ferocious, efforts of all it has taken to withstand the pressure of your undoing screamed out loud.

But on this quiet bathroom floor, it can’t even be considered a whisper. Nothing more than the spoken words lingering from a ghost who can’t give up the haunt. An echo of a memory, an echo of the piece in you that can’t let go, not yet.

Not of existing, and not of him. Your fists hold him so firmly against you, you’re scared that you’re going to bruise him. Hurt him just from the sheer effort of trying to show that you love him.

The only way you know how to love – a violent dog who will always bite the kindest hands. Leaving behind bloodied knuckles even if you hadn’t so much as snipped this time.

You take a sharp breath, aware of the levity of the words you’re about to say, “I don’t want to exist anymore, but I wouldn’t even make it off the bridge if I tried.”

It’s not about the bridge anymore. In all likelihood, it wouldn’t be the bridge you turn to. There’s a grand metaphor somewhere in the admittance, but your mind is just too tired to try and paint a prettier picture of it for him.

Because exist is just a placeholder. And there’s a bigger, scarier word that should stand in its place.

He starts to break the hold, and you nearly sob out again just at that. Losing the warmth of his chest and arms strike pain somewhere deep within you, just north of the pit that’s devoured all that’s left of you.

“Bridge?” Phrased as a clarifying question, but when you see his face, it’s clear he knows. There are no good words left to say about it, “Sweetheart, no.”

There are worse reactions to be had. More scenarios that end in slamming doors or deafening silent treatments. Realizations that you’re right and it’s not worth it – defense mechanisms that involve them leaving first.

“I couldn’t do it, even if I want-”

Even if I wanted to. The words you can’t speak, dying on your tongue.

Do you want to? Where does the pain begin? And where could it end?

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he laughs humorlessly, his hands still gripping your biceps in a death hold, “You… you just…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and you don’t blame him. You knew this was heavy; you knew this isn’t the type of bomb to drop on someone you love.

But if you didn’t, where would the bomb have gone? You’re not equipped to detonate it. You’re not equipped to survive the explosion. You wouldn’t want to survive that explosion.

“I’m sorry,” your words pour out, beginning to shake beneath his palms, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Dry, cracked lips feel as though they nearly split from the apologies. More violence, more devastation, more of what you always knew you were. You can see it in his eyes – you’re dragging him down with you, right down to the bottom of the ocean. You’re being an anchor.

He’s all stutters and harsh breaths, panic filling the space with your own as his eyes search yours, “Don’t apologize. You don’t have to apologize. Just-”

He cuts off and is pulling you close again. Slamming your bones into his, wrapping up around you as if he might be able to keep you safe from the world. From your own mind.

“I don’t need apologies,” another squeeze of your closer to him, another attempt to pull you away from the dangers that lie within, “I don’t- I just… Can I help? How do I make it better? Just say the word. I’ll do it.”

It’s not your job. That’s not your job.

You don’t realize you’ve said the words out loud until he’s squeezing you so tightly that you now can’t breathe. Until all you are is him. All his old t-shirts he’s lent to you that hang in your closet, all the nights spent with tangled legs as you sit across from each other on your couch, all the phone calls in which he refused to be the first one to hang up. Cologne that is too cheap to be able to cling so ferociously as it does to all your surroundings, chain-smoked cigarettes you always chastise him for because they’re gonna kill you one day, the smoke of his latest blunt resting in an ashtray as his head finds home in your lap.

All the inside jokes. All the hugs. All the simple texts, if for nothing more than to just check in on each other. The broken reminders of having someone out there that cares. That loves you.

How can such rotten hands pull such love from others? How have you yet to infect him?

“I know it’s not my job,” he finally says, and you know for a fact he’s crying along with you before the first of his tears have wet the crown of your head, “It’s never been a job. You’re not a job. Okay? Get that through your head. There’s- Fuck, there’s plenty of things I wanna drill in that pretty little head of yours right now, but I know I can’t, so just get that.”

He’s trying. A little trill of his tongue that falls a bit flat when he refers to your pretty little head, a brief squeeze of your shoulders as he tries to relax a little. He wants to make you feel better. He wants to make it better.

But he’s still holding you like he’s terrified. You did that – you instilled that fear.

“I’m a mess,” you whisper in bitter realization, ash on your tongue as you process what you’ve done. You’ve already apologized, but you’re seconds away from doing so again, “I’m- I’m a mess, and I’m dragging you into it, and I’m sor-”

“Stop being sorry.” Definitive words, no room for argument. The smallest of shifts as things click into place. He isn’t budging – he isn’t letting go, “Do you remember when I first met you?”

You can’t tell if the question is meant to have a point, or if it’s meant to be a distraction. You let it grow into the latter.

“Yeah,” you breathe out against him, melting into his chest, trying to focus on his voice rather than the ones in your head, “But tell me about it anyway?”

“Two years ago. Technically, two years and seven months,” he starts in the same voice he used to take on during Hellfire sessions, before the members had scattered from coast to coast and his D&D club only became a rarity when the stars aligned. There’s still a crack to his voice from his tears, but that doesn’t stop him, “We were in some cursed fucking diner we don’t even go to anymore, in the dead of the night, and all the servers knew your name and order,” he paints the picture with a humor that should feel out of place, but it settles some of your breathing. Omitting all the vivid details, opting for triggering the memory with words you’d just get. You can feel the stick of the plastic beneath your thighs, you can smell the grease of the kitchen. You can see the cloudy night out of the oversized windows. He’s a natural born storyteller in the most subtle of ways, always knowing his audience, “You were sitting all alone in that booth, and all of Hellfire had just left. Gareth had just told us how he was going to college in California – did you know that?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, he did,” his chin presses against the top of your head, a huff of a laugh escaping him, “Dropped the bomb it was our last summer as a club probably. We were happy for him, though. Real fucking happy. Got milkshakes to celebrate and made plans to get drunk off our asses the next night to keep the party going. It was dumb, and I’m getting off track, but…”

Baited breath, you’re waiting for him to continue. No thoughts of the bridge. No thoughts of your failures. Living in a small memory with him on the floor of your bathroom.

“Anyways, you were sitting there all alone, with a plate of fries and ranch.”

“Oh, God,” your nose scrunches and you try to pull away, suddenly remembering how embarrassing this memory ends for you. It suddenly didn’t seem like the best way for him to make you feel better by any means, “No, I remember how this story ends, and-”

“I’m not done,” he locks his arms around you, and you can feel the whisper of a smile as it brushes against your temple, “Obviously you know where I’m going with this, but I’m not done, sweetheart. Because all the other guys had just left, and I’m sitting there, realizing the only other customer was some random person over across the diner, scribbling away in some notebook. Thought you looked cute when you were all focused like that, y’know? But then you were so focused that it became distracted, and you spilled that ranch all over yours-”

“Please, stop.”

You’re laughing through the words, weakly, the air of desperation in the word please being far different from earlier in the night. No bridges, no failures.

“I was probably being a weirdo, trying to run over and help you or whatever the fuck I was trying to do. I probably made it worse, right?”

You’re there, remembering a version of Eddie that was a stranger, taking napkins to the knees of your jeans and smearing the ranch rather than really helping you clean it up. “Yeah, just a little bit.”

“Sorry for that, by the way,” he airily apologizes before continuing, “But I just remember thinking about how focused you were on that notebook. And how you laughed with the waiter. And how you were just… lost in your own little world. And how you were so cute. You were so nice. The type of person I wanted in my life. Took one look at you with that ranch all over your lap and thought, huh. I want to get to know that person.”

“Nice? I was not nice, I was-” you cut off, heart all but stopping as you recognize the point of it all. It wasn’t meant to just be a distraction. He was making a point. “I was a… a mess that day.”

“Exactly.”

He pulls away again, and this time, it’s a little easier. The world has put a pause on its ending and you can handle the weight of his arms lightening for a few seconds, just so he can get a good look at your face.

“You were a mess the day that I met you, and I still wanted you in my life,” he says each word deliberately, not breaking eye contact. Fear has broken through to determination. “And even if you’re still a mess today, I still want you. Nothing changes. You get that?”

No bridges.

No failures.

The weight of it all had been heavy. The type of sorrow you thought was never meant to be carried by more than your own two hands. But he had taken it in his palms, lifted it from you entirely, even if it would only be temporary. One day you’d have to endure the pain again, get to the root of the problem. Figure out if all your ailments had been something wired into you since birth, or things you’d picked up along your way. But for now, you could breathe again. You could hear the drumming of your heart in your ears, and you could hear every single one of both yours and Eddie’s breaths in the silence, and that was enough.

“I don’t want to die,” you finally quietly admit. Saying one of the bigger, scarier words. The thing you’d been too afraid to let slip off your tongue originally. “I just- sometimes it all gets a bit loud, you know? And I know you said don’t apologize, but I am sorry that I scared you. And I’m sorry that you have to take the bad to also get that little bit of the good with me.”

His hand leaves one of your arms for the first time since he’d first wrapped you up, and it finds its way to cradle the side of your head. Holding you as if you’re porcelain still. You know that won’t go away, not tonight. “I’d rather have your bad days than have nothing at all,” he chokes up once more, and you can see tears threatening to welt in his eyes, “You get that, too. Alright? You’re worth it. Bad, good, funny, sad – give it to me. I’m asking for it. Just don’t… don’t leave me with the nothing.”

You’re worth it.

He’s found a worth in you attached to nothing at all. He’s sitting here with you, on the bathroom floor, and his perception of you has nothing to do with what you can only offer.

It just has to do with you. He sees you, and he’s decided you’re worth it. Even now.

He smiles softly, as if he can see the realization dawning upon you, “You wanna get up off the floor now? We can go sit on your couch or bed or something.”

You’re quick to shake your head. Your knees are partially digging into his thighs, your breaths are matching his.

“Okay,” his face falls slightly, but not entirely. Not entirely, “That’s okay. Do you want me…. Do you want me to go?”

Another shake of your head. But this time, you need to offer more than just the motion of your head, especially when you can feel tears returning as your throat tightens up, “No. No, just- Stay with me? Please?”

Your hands reach out without you even processing it, gripping his wrists, desperate and clinging and still verging on the edge of violent. The thought of being alone is terrifying, but the thought of having to watch him walk out of this room is even more petrifying.

He doesn’t even flinch as you sink your claws in. His smile only returns, and he shuffles to pull you both to hold your backs up against the wall across from the toilet, “Of course. I’ll stay, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere – wouldn’t even dream of it.”

His words shake just a little less than they had when he’d first entered the room.

He can’t fix it all magically. That isn’t his job, isn’t his role, isn’t his choice. But he can sit here with you, on the floor of the bathroom, endlessly patient and tragically caring as he urges you to lay down. He stretches his legs out and pats his lap once before hovering his hands over your shoulder, guiding you until your temple is flush with his thigh.

He can choose to not hesitate as his fingers immediately push through the baby hairs by your temple, a soft hum in the back of his throat that sounds exactly as you feel.

Hesitantly content. Just for now. It’s enough.

The storm is receding. As hours pass by, and noises of uncertainty become more confident hums of a song you faintly recognize, it all settles. He stays. You stay. The storm passes for the time being, and the hole tempers itself for just the night.

It’s enough for now. You’ll worry more tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. You’ll talk more about why you feel this way, and he’ll offer better solutions. The weight won’t simply be passed into his waiting hands and forgotten – one day, you’ll find a way to lighten it through dissipation rather than through catastrophe.

One day, the seas will calm, and you’ll find yourself the ship rather than the anchor.

And the captain can be the boy who sits on the floor with you through the sadness, content to wait out the storms with you until you find the worth he sees in you.

#not using taglist due to the triggering nature of this fic #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #tw suicidal ideations #this felt more like a journal entry than a fic at times #but i needed to write it so i did #writing eddie's bits were hard because i've always been bad at being on that side of these things #finding a way to have two humans discuss the emotions in question out loud was just hard #and in case anyone who's reading the tags needs to hear this: you're not a burden for telling your loved ones when you feel this way #i guarantee they'd rather have these hard and uncomfortable conversations than the alternative #the ending only feels rushed and like a band-aid because i truly don't know if i'm capable of writing that type of dialogue #it's already scary enough posting this as it is lol #but save the leaves? idk now im using humor as a coping mechanism #alright i'll shut up now no one is reading this far into the tags

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ineffable-suffering · 1 year ago

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #story of job #job minisode #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #my own meta

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mysticheathenn · 6 months ago

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Messages From Your Mental Prison

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about your mental health and the state of how you view the world and everything that is going on in your life. This could be about your depression, Anxiety, or even suicidal thoughts. Read with caution as this reading may have triggers.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

TW Ahead Read With Caution

Pile l:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed), 9 of Swords, 4 of Swords (reversed), 10 of Cups (reversed), Justice

This reminds me of the TikTok clip of the voice screaming "It's not fair. It's not fair." reminding me of how many people have probably told you that you handle stress and everyday life so well but little do they know your mental state is literally one inconvenience away from having a mental breakdown. Stress and anxiety practically camp out in your mind on a daily basis pile l. You can't seem to escape it, it's all you have known for quite a while and you're tired. There is a saying that "There is no sleep for the wicked" Well in your case "There is no sleep for the poor or those who lack the resources to pull themselves up in their life." All you want in life is enough to pay your bills and a little extra for savings and be able to do something with your life like try a new hobby without feeling guilty for spending money that isn't on "important" things like survival. You probably have been in survival mode for quite some time now and wondering when will you see a breakthrough. You're tired of being tired. You're tired of practically playing Russian roulette with your bills of which one can you not pay for this month. One thing I will say pile l is even though things may seem bleak please don't give up, I sense things will get better financially for you. Sometimes in life you just need to find your footing for things to take off.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Seek out information that will help you out, A Journey either physical or mental, unsettled times. Need to plan ahead, Announcement, Get back to the basics.

Pile l your extra message oracles make me believe that you feel lost, maybe even stuck for some of you with no clue in the world of how to better your situation or go about life. You have the get back to the basics card which sticks out to me like a sore thumb letting the game know that I sense you may be the type who always tries to do those get-rich-and-quick schemes like drop shipping or anything else you see that pops up on your social media feed and it never works out for whatever reason. You want to know why....it's because you aren't supposed to be doing that. That's not your path to riches. You have the 8 of Pentacles and 10 of Cups card but it's reversed meaning you are meant to have emotional and financial fulfillment you just need to stop and get back to the basics. What basics mystic? What is it that has been drawing or calling you in? What is something you keep putting off or not doing because you believe based on society and family it won't make you any money? For most of you, this is what you need to be doing. For others of you, you will be going on a journey where you need to find this out. Figure out what feeds your soul that you would do for free and do that but add tax. You are meant to freelance and be your own boss, not working for other people. Overall this is a journey process for you pile l. You will deal with more hard times as you figure this out but remember this journey is temporary to where you want to be, so keep pushing. An answer if it hasn't already will come to you.

Pile ll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Hermit, Page of Swords (reversed), Queen of Cups, 10 of Wands, 10 of Swords (reversed)

When was the last time you nurtured yourself or spent time alone and really tried to heal and nurture yourself with positive thoughts pile ll. It's a never-ending cycle of you constantly bombarding yourself with cruel words that aren't true. This reminds me slightly of the reading I posted titled Mystery pt. ll. But overall this feeling of yours feels more so as if the world has its weight on your shoulders and you feel as if you are a burden to those around you. You may live at home, with roommates, or feel that you constantly are asking anyone and everyone around you for help as if you can't do anything for yourself and you're tired. You're ready to be able to be independent without having to rely on others. Maybe others have made you feel bad as well for asking for help when you are down on your luck to where you just feel crushed, stuck, unable to move in a direction because one way people will make you feel bad for your predicament and the other hand you will make yourself feel bad because you feel whatever this is you should be able to do by yourself but can't because life is tough right now. As I mentioned in pile l you need to get back to the basics. Get back to the basics of life and take things one step at a time. You are doing the best you can with what you have and don't let anyone make you feel bad about that.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Position of authority, August, Someone you know is undependable and insincere, Slowly but surely getting ahead. Pay attention to your work, Good Fortune.

As mentioned your life while it maybe chaotic at the moment everything is a journey and slowly but surely things will get better and you will get ahead eventually. With the Position of authority I am seeing this in two ways some of you should pay attention to your work as there may be a position available for you in management where you can make more money this may happen around or sometime in August. If not within the company you work maybe this is an invitation to be your own boss or look elsewhere for higher positions especially if you have more than enough qualifications. For others of you, this position of authority is letting you know that you are the boss of your own life and have complete control of what goes on and who is in it. Never let people who claim to be friends or family make you feel bad for being on hard times. They aren't who they say they are and you should move accordingly with that information. Overall Good Fortune is in your cards by the end of this rough patch. You just need to focus and hone in on ways you can do more within your life with the resources of which you have. Again this could be moving up in the company or going elsewhere, where advancement is an option.

Pile lll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Star, The Sun, Ace of Pentacles (reversed), The Fool (reversed), Awakening

Pile lll, my babies, it's time to allow yourself to be seen by the world. It's time to stop hiding in the shadows allowing life to pass you by. You can't keep yourself in the mental prison of feelings of imposter syndrome, fear of judgment, etc. Life wants to give you financial blessings, especially with the Ace of Pentacles in Reversed but you are blocking them because you aren't doing what needs to be done. This could be you starting a YouTube channel, being a content creator on social media, writing a book or screenplay/ maybe even fanfiction for some of you, others this might just be you hiding from a promotion that you deeply desire but feel you lack experience, knowledge, etc. Whatever this is for you, you have to release the thoughts that plague your mind and go for the thing that puts you in front of everyone. Yes at first you may make mistakes or look cringe or whatever the issue may be but that's how everything is when you first jump deep into something. You make mistakes and people will talk...but you want to know something life moves on and the world doesn't end. Seriously do the thing, it's time. You will beat yourself up if others take the things that you want for yourself and you want to know something you have no one to blame but yourself because you decided to not do what needs to be done. Write the book. Film yourself. Apply for better jobs even if you think you are not qualified. Have you heard of the girl who applied to jobs she had no business doing and ended up getting hired making $100k a year...that could be you right now but you are stuck listening to self-doubt and the thoughts of what others will say. Storytime: I knew that I didn't want to continue working at whatever job I was working at back in 2015 so when my friend and I figured out that employers don't check a lot of your information we applied for positions that would pay us well and you want to know something the resume I lied on got me so far in life to where I was Assistant GM of hotels at one point. All because I believed I could do what others were doing in the hotel industry even without a lick of experience. Did I mess up in the beginning, yes. Did I care...no because I was doing more good than harm so no one really questioned if I lied or not. You have to take the jump. Do the thing.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Short Journey, Back to Basics, Work achievement & success, TIME TO ACT, Someone is extremely stubborn and unwilling to change, Protected from negative forces beyond your control, Solid foundation success with effort, waiting for news package or letter, A meeting with a strange could be important.

Pile lll do you see the amount of synchronicities in your oracle reading. Spirit is coming through loud and clear that you need to get out of your stubbornness and began acting on your dreams, goals, and desires. You are protected from anything that could try and take what this is away from you. Even with a solid foundation success with effort is telling you "Hey if you do the thing you will not fail because you are protected." Now this goes without saying that you won't deal with some challenges because that's life what it is saying is you will come out on top and the journey for you won't be a long one if you just do the effort that it takes. Spirit will do the rest if you just do what needs to be done.

Pile lV:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Empress, Queen of Pentacles, 5 of Swords (reversed), 8 of Swords (reversed), 6 of Wands

You are victorious pile lV your only problem is that you don't believe you are worth a pot to piss in a lot of the time. Even with the Empress and Queen of Pentacles card here letting me know how nurturing, giving, empathetic, and even resourceful you are you don't see any good things about yourself. You remind me of people who speak negatively about themselves not knowing that their actions speak the opposite. You can't say you don't care but your actions speak another language. You can't put yourself down but then be upset when life mirrors your thoughts. Deep down you know how amazing you are and the many great things that you can do, but for some strange reason you recently for some of you while others of you this has been going on for a while where you constantly hold yourself to such a low standard and critic everything that you do. Why is that? Where did it begin? How can you remove this person or thing that made you feel this way? For some of you, this may have been a relationship (platonic, romantic, or familial) that made you feel self-critical of yourself because they felt something about themselves. You must remember that when people speak unkind things to you that it's a reflection of themselves and not you. You don't have to take what others think of you and run with it as if they are true because they are not. A scene that comes to mind is when the mom in Black Swan says "What happened to my little girl?" What happened to you that made you feel and think these thoughts to yourself and how can you get back to the Empress and Queen of Pentacle energy.

Extra Messages: Manifestation Oracle Cards: Wellbeing, Empowerment, Strength

How can you today give yourself the love that you deserve? Is it a DIY spa day? A trip to a therapist or talk with a trusted friend? How can you show up for yourself in ways that you haven't before that will make you see the person you are? Have the strength and courage to stand up to anyone who makes you feel any less than what and who you are. For a few of you, you may be a part of the LBGTQ+ community and others around you have made you feel different, a "freak" or whatever insecurity that you question your existence. There is a quote by Elenor Roosevelt that says "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." Please don't let assholes who were raised by baboons let you lower yourself or feel anything less than amazing, beautiful, and authentically you. Regardless of how you feel about yourself find something in your life, day, or something as small as a freckle on your face that you love and keep bringing more of that energy in for you and keep your head up. This feeling is only temporary, things will get better.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

#spirituality #witchblr #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot cards #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #pick a picture #pick a photo

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matryosika · 1 year ago

Text

Extracurricular

Pairing — Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount — 9,281 words Includes — College AU, strangers to something. Shy and inexperienced Hyunjin. Explicit content, smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — This was... a ride. I'm used to writing super filthy smut, but I think this one is pretty soft and wholesome. I enjoyed this idea a lot, and I enjoyed writing it too. I was between Seungmin, Mark and Hyunjin for this one, but I eventually decided to go with Hyunjin because... I don't think I've read a lot about him in this kind of dynamic haha. Also to indulge myself. I hope you guys like it; if you do, please like/reblog and leave an ask or comment! Remember that I own a ko-fi, in case you want to support my work further (link in my post pinned!) Every tip is super helpful to me.

Smut warnings: Kind of perv!Hyunjin if you squint. Hyunjin gets hard during a non-sexual context and reader catches it. Soft dirty talk, handjob, fingering, oral sex (both m. and f. receiving), deepthroating and super soft face fucking, cum eating, multiple orgasms (for both characters). Penetrative sex, unprotected sex (contraceptives are discussed), creampie.

[15:47 p.m.] You: 8, my place.

Hyunjin tilted his head while reading your text, unsure about what he should reply. It wasn’t a question, nor a proposal; it was an order, something he had to accept rather than negotiate.

[15:48 p.m.] Hyunjin: Yeah.

For once, he was glad about being partnered with someone who enjoyed taking the lead. Had it been any other classmate of his, Hyunjin was sure he would’ve been forced to take the initiative.

This time around, though, he wasn’t. But at what cost? The relief of being grouped with someone like you wasn’t as comforting as any other would think. Sure, more than one classmate would’ve done anything to be paired with you, but Hyunjin just couldn’t feel the same.

[15:50 p.m.] You: my apartment is near Namyeong station.

[15:50 p.m.] You: I'll text you the address later, wait.

He spent the following hours waiting for your text, wondering how fate had played such cards on him. Was it a divine punishment? Or a devilish blessing? Hyunjin just couldn’t know.

He stood in front of your apartment door for minutes, debating on whether he should knock right away or wait a little bit longer. The clock on his cellphone screen Hyunjined 8:02, yet he didn’t want to look too desperate to get inside your place, even when he was.

So, Hyunjin opted to wait a few more minutes before knocking on your door. He thought about it as a way to soothe himself, though it was useless —no amount of waiting time could fight the awkwardness of getting to hang around you for a whole evening.

Despite knowing that, he tried his best. He brushed his sweaty palms against the fabric of his sweatpants, fixed his hair, cleared his throat, and rehearsed his greeting.

“Hey,” he whispered to himself. Too sharp. “Hello,” too weird. “Hi,” totally not like him.

“What’s up?,” Hyunjin finally concluded. What’s up? Casual, friendly, and not too uptight —even when that's probably one word he would use to describe himself.

With tons of hesitation, and motivated by the already wasted time, Hyunjin finally knocked on your door. He went for three knocks, one right after the other.

Surprisingly, you answered the door after the second one.

“What were you doing?”

It wasn't that Hyunjin needed to have everything under his control, but he wished to have at least some of it. From the moment you choose your own place for the project meeting, to the blunt question you welcomed him with, Hyunjin felt nothing but uncertainty.

In any other situation, or with any other person, he would've been the one leading the way. He would've been at the comfort of his place, welcoming his guest the way he wished to be welcomed. He would direct the project, choose the idea he liked best, work diligently on it and call it a day.

But he was standing right in front of your apartment door, with his cheeks flushed and a timid grimace that resembled more awkwardness than a friendly smile.

“Huh?” he mumbled, barely audible for you.

“It’s 8:20,” you stepped away from the door and encouraged the brown-haired to come in. “I was waiting for you”.

Were you? Hyunjin lost track of the time that evening. He knew he got to your apartment at around 8, but he wasn’t conscious of the whole twenty minutes he spent getting ready to knock on your door.

“Sorry,” was all he could come up with. “Hi”.

“Hi,” you said back, closing the door right behind you and guiding your shy classmate across the small living room.

He seemed nosy, you could tell; his eyes widened as he discreetly scanned the whole space. There was not much to see though —when it came to room décor, you were more of a minimalist. Still, Hyunjin was curious because it was your place, he wasn’t particularly interested in appreciating the small details but imagining how you spent your afternoons resting there.

“So,” you sat down on the couch and grabbed your laptop from the coffee table, leaving space for Hyunjin to sit next to you. He seemed hesitant at first, debating on whether he should be close to you or not for his own good, but he didn’t want to make things any more awkward than they already were. “Any ideas?”

“Ideas?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “for the project”.

To be truthfully honest, Hyunjin had plenty of ideas for the final assignment. But as he inhaled your fragrance, he completely forgot about every single one of them.

“I-” he hesitated. Silly enough, he was at the top of his class. In the midst of things, he felt overwhelmed —what if you expected a lot from him? “I guess I haven’t thought much about it”.

“Me neither,” you sighed, throwing your head back and against a cushion. “We have a long night ahead”.

“Wha- do you think we can get it done by tonight?” Hyunjin asked you. Of course, if the both of you worked hard and without any distractions, the final project could’ve been done in under 3 hours. Yet he had hope about another project meeting, luckily at his place.

“Maybe,” you closed your eyes and exhaled deeply.

Hyunjin nodded silently and stared at you for a while, allowing himself to do so only because you had your eyes closed. Besides that time you were late and had to sit right next to him in freshman year, this was as close as Hyunjin had ever been to you.

He didn’t want to come off as a pervert, but it was hard not to stare at you. Of course, he wasn’t going to do it shamelessly —he respected you and the last thing he wanted was for you to think about him as a creep or feel uncomfortable hanging around him, but his own instincts betrayed him.

From the curvature of your lashes to your lips, then your neck, and a little down further, Hyunjin’s eyes fixed on your cleavage. Your clothes only revealed much, but that was perfect, it had him on edge.

“What?” Your voice caught him off guard and he quickly parted his gaze away from you.

“Huh?”

“I can feel you staring at me, Hyunjin,” you scoffed, still with your eyes closed.

“I am not,” he reassured you, shifting his position on the couch.

“Alright,” you sighed. “But I wouldn’t mind if you were”.

“I am not,” Hyunjin repeated and turned to face the small balcony next to him, pretending that the view outside the apartment was a thousand times more fulfilling than the one he had sitting next to him.

“Why do you not like me?” The question came out rather harshly, but far from intimidating him, it only made Hyunjin curious.

Up until that point, he thought it was pretty obvious —he was into you. He didn’t know you that much, but he didn’t need to; his lack of knowledge never stopped him from having wet dreams about you almost every single night.

“Why do you think that?”

You let out a soft scoff, turning to the side to face him. “You didn’t look happy when the professor paired us together”.

Well, that was true, but not for the reasons you thought.

“You seem outgoing with everyone, but you always look tense when I hang around you,” you continued rambling, feeling offended at the reminiscences of every time Hyunjin acted like a jerk around you. “Am I that annoying?”.

You were the farthest thing from annoying, but he couldn’t tell you that. Hyunjin wasn’t good at flirting or being sly around you, so being bluntly honest with you wasn’t an option unless he wanted to sound intense.

“Mh,” there was not much he could say, really. He knew it wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to try to convince you otherwise. It was best for you to think of him as someone distant and cold rather than a complete dumbass who fantasized about you almost every single day.

“See?” you barked. “You are not denying it”.

“I don't think you are annoying,” Hyunjin murmured, trying hard not to stumble upon his words. “I guess we just don't hang around that much”.

“Mh, is that so?” You tried hard to make eye contact with him, but it was useless. It seemed as if he was avoiding any kind of interaction with you, and that amused you as much as it bothered you. “I know you are lying because you can't even say such a thing while looking at me”.

“I don't think you are annoying,” Hyunjin repeated, tilting his head at you ever so slightly. He wasn't too fond of eye contact, let alone with you.

“Ah, come on,” with a soft groan, you cupped Hyunjin’s cheeks with one of your hands and forced him to look into your direction. “I don't believe you”.

His eyes widened slightly, and the skin underneath your palm started to feel warm with each second that passed.

“What?”

You were staring at him with doe eyes and, for a split second, Hyunjin felt anger at your naiveness. Were you really that oblivious to your own charms? Or did you just enjoy feeling like a predator hunting its prey? Either scenario made him feel pathetic.

If you were that naive, then that would mean that he is nothing more but a pathetic pervert that gets turned on by everything you do. But if you weren't, and instead were fully aware of the power you held over him, that would mean that you were just toying with him.

“I don't find you annoying,” Hyunjin murmured. “If I did, I wouldn't be here”.

“Well you came 20 minutes late and can't even engage in small talk,” you continued bickering, “it seems to me that you don't want to be here”.

At that point, Hyunjin understood you were just doing that to tease him —you were pushing all his buttons trying to get any kind of reaction from him. As far as he was concerned, that was much like you; according to your friends and classmates, you were a complete tease.

Hyunjin loved that about you as much as he hated it.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say,” he stuttered. Your skin was burning against his, and he prayed for you to not notice the rising tint in his cheeks.

You smiled, still cupping both of his cheeks as if that small gesture wasn’t weird to perform on an almost stranger —still, you could tell he was nervous. “I’m just messing with you, Hwang,” you finally scoffed, letting go of the grip you had on his face.

You didn’t think he hated you, but his behavior was, in fact, odd around you. Hyunjin wasn’t the extroverted type, but you could tell there was a difference between how he engaged with everyone and you.

You weren’t the extroverted type either unless you had to —that night, as he was quiet as usual, you had decided to try and lighten up the mood by teasing him. Perhaps it wasn’t the best way to start a conversation, but you just didn’t know any better.

“So,” you sat down properly on your space, moving away from him as he sensed the loss of your warmth, “project ideas”.

It was impressive how much power you held over Hyunjin and how indifferent he was to you —even he couldn’t begin to comprehend such a thing.

It was such a small, playful action; you had decided to make a suggestive joke, inviting him to look at you. Then, you touched him. Even if it wasn’t anything sexual, his body reacted in such a way —his skin got covered in goosebumps, his heart skipped a beat and the unpleasant pressure between his legs didn’t take long to appear.

That made him feel embarrassed.

He wasn’t as experienced as others, nor had much going on in his sexual life, but there was something shameful in getting turned on that easily by someone he barely knew. Even worse, by someone who wasn’t doing anything to drive him to that place.

And then you changed the subject, so casually and quickly that it made him feel pathetic. You were back to thinking about project ideas and he was still frozen in its place, imagining that your touch was still there, that your gaze was still fixed in his, and that the following events weren’t as they had been.

You had moved from moment to moment so easily, yet he was still pressing the couch cushion against his lap trying for his growing bulge to go unnoticed.

“Hwang?”

“Huh?” Hyunjin blinked a few times before facing you, tilting his head ever so slightly as he tried to bring back anything from what you had said the past 2 minutes. Nothing, he was too busy thinking about how it was a mistake to wear a pair of sweatpants that evening.

You stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, “were you listening?”

He swallowed thickly and interrupted eye contact, turning to face the paper sheets scattered on the coffee table. Your eyes immediately fell down to the striped cushion which he cautiously held against his body, his hand pressing it just enough for his grip to look both rough and gentle at the same time.

“What was it?” Hyunjin shyly asked.

He expected you to start talking again like you had been doing ever since he got there, but you remained silent. Instead, you tilted your head at him, staring shamelessly at the object he seemed to be clinging to.

If there was one thing you were good at and he wasn’t, was bearing silence.

“I was- I kind of got lost in the middle,” he rambled, trying hard to hide his obvious nervousness. “You were saying something about, uh-”.

It seemed as if the only way you could make Hyunjin Hwang talk was by being quiet. The longer you stared at him, the more he talked —or tried to, better said.

“Hyunjin,” you interrupted, offering him the sweetest yet most taunting smile he had ever seen from you.

He was doomed.

By the way your eyes were lingering on the striped cushion and the corners of your lips raised in a mischievous smile, he knew you knew.

And in that split second, where your eyes met his tense body and flustered gaze, everything started to make sense.

“We don't need to have everything done by tonight,” you murmured with a flirting tone he wasn't oblivious to.

Prior to that day, Hyunjin had always stood out to you. It wasn't just his looks or physical appearance, but there was something inviting about him that, even then, you were trying to figure out.

You had a slight crush on him, but that wasn't saying much —every woman you knew had a thing for Hyunjin Hwang. He really wasn't the dating type, nor showed any interest in casual dates, yet you knew a fair amount of girls who would date him in a heartbeat.

But because of how uninterested he was about the women surrounding him, and how awkward he always seemed to get around you, you never thought of him as something more than just a pretty man.

“We should-,” he continued, avoiding your eyes who were practically begging for him to look at you, “discuss the id-”.

“Hyunjin,” you repeated, shifting your position on the couch so your body could face him. “Stop”.

His cheeks were flushed, his bottom lip was caught between his teeth and his gaze was slowly losing its spark. His eyes were no longer bright but dark —still, the characteristic softness of them never faded away.

“Are you okay?”

The question was innocent, but Hyunjin knew it hid something mischievous. Even so, he was hoping to be able to fool you.

“I think I just- need to go to the bathroom,” he murmured shyly, spreading his legs inconspicuously as he tried to fix his issue.

You glared at the striped cushion and then at him, trying to make him understand that you just couldn't be tricked.

“Is that so?” There was a teasing tone in your voice Hyunjin could pick up on well, but he chose to ignore it —instead, he was trying hard to believe his own lie.

But it was almost impossible; from the way your gaze was practically devouring him to the way your arm grazed against his ever so slightly, he just couldn't focus on anything else.

“Y-yes”.

“Right there,” you pointed at one of the doors and smiled when Hyunjin realized what he had put himself through.

In order to get to the bathroom, he would have to stand up from the couch. And by standing up, he would have to leave the striped cushion behind —otherwise it would've looked weird if he decided to walk along your living room while holding a cushion against his crotch.

“What is it?”

Hyunjin felt cornered. And humiliated.

“Think I'll just stay here,” he struggled, looking down at the object on his lap and avoiding your touch.

He was sure that if you were to cup his cheeks one more time or grab his arm in a playful manner, he would come right then in his pants. That's how much power you had over him.

“You are flushed,” just as if you had been reading his thoughts for the past fifteen minutes, you leaned forward to touch his forehead with your palm. “And you are burning, too”.

At that point, Hyunjin felt terrible. His cock twitched inside his pants as he felt your delicate touch on him again, and he was sure that his sweatpants had now a dark, wet patch on them.

All because of you.

“You were just fine when you got here though,” you were toying with him, and he could tell. “I wonder what happened”.

Hyunjin swallowed tickly once he felt your hand on his cheek and jaw, teasing the side of his neck only to return back to its original place at his forehead.

For a split second, he thought about going for it. But what exactly was he going for? His cock was hard in his pants and the whole moment just made him look pathetic. On top of that, he didn't trust you enough. Would you laugh at him and call him a pervert? Or would you like the idea that you can get him hard that easily?

“Come on,” you murmured, grabbing the cushion as soon as he let his guard down. He was too lost into his own thoughts that he only realized you had taken it away when it was already too late.

His hands flew to his crotch, but it was all useless.

The raise of one of your eyebrows let Hyunjin know he had lost a game he didn't even know he was playing in the first place. It seemed as if, from the moment he walked through your apartment door, your only mission was for him to drop that distant facade he thoroughly tried to build around you.

And oh, how you succeeded.

He stared at you for what felt like ages, his body leaning forward as he tried to hide his bulge. The worst part was that, even after being caught, his cock didn't soften, it was all quite the opposite.

“Hm,” you finally hummed, interrupting the awkward silence between the both of you. “I thought you were feeling ill”.

Truth was, he did feel ill. His head was spinning around, he felt dizzy, his heart was racing at a thousand miles per hour and his hands were sweating like never before. At some point, he felt as if he was going to faint.

But even then, when he knew you had caught him red-handed in the middle of possibly one of the most humiliating situations a man can ever be in, you just couldn't stop staring at him.

Your eyes were fixed on the silhouette of his bulge, his sweatpants only leaving much to the imagination. His hand reached out for the striped cushion yet again, establishing a physical barrier between you and what you were dying to see.

“I guess you were right,” you murmured after an awkward silence, still with your gaze placed on that specific spot. “You don't find me annoying”.

It was a subtle, amusing joke to lighten up the mood, but Hyunjin couldn't relax. All he could think of was your eyes analyzing every part of him, from his rosy cheeks to the stained gray sweatpants.

“I should probably- just, you know, I can get the project done on my own. I will just-,” he was rambling, again. It was really a pathetic move, but what else was he supposed to do? He had never felt as embarrassed.

“Do you like me?”

Hyunjin stared at you with both eyes open like plates. There was no point in asking that question, especially not after you caught him with a boner in the middle of just a college project.

“I mean, sexually,” you added.

He thought, wasn't it obvious? His cock always got rock hard whenever you were around. Whenever he jerked himself off, all he could think about was you. Even when he didn't want to, even when he tried to think about anyone but you, you were the only one he could think of as he came.

“I- you know, I'm just-”.

“It's a yes or no question, Hyunjinnie,” you taunted him.

God, how he hated that nickname. It made him feel pathetic, which was not too far from reality.

“No”.

A blatant lie. No matter how hard Hyunjin tried to pretend he didn't feel attracted towards you, his past actions could rat him out anytime. The amount of times he had jerked off to your instagram pictures, the countless occasions he got hard just from seeing you and the embarrassing moments in which your name had slipped from his lips every time he humped his pillow were enough proof that he was into you.

“No?” you asked him, incredulous.

He shook his head. “I- think we should just- focus on the assignment”.

It took Hyunjin all the courage within him to not run away from the scene, lock himself up in his apartment and drop out of college. He did want to run away from your apartment, though, but he couldn't —his whole body was frozen and he could only do as little as move his gaze over the scattered paper sheets in front of him.

“I am just trying to help you here,” you exhaled deeply, clearly upset about facing rejection from such a man.

You weren't expecting him to give in right away —you knew him fairly well, and considering how shy he was, it was pointless to hope for a little bit of initiative. Yet the thing that bothered you the most was how you could tell he wanted to, but kept on denying it and pretending he just wasn't interested.

“And I can't help you if you don't let me”.

Hyunjin fixed his eyes on the small coffee table in front of him, yet his gaze was lost. Everything felt too surreal, like a dream or something pulled out of his wildest fantasies —it was all too good to be true.

“What makes you think I need help?” he gulped while asking that question, as if the answer wasn't obvious. Still, he wanted to know if you two were at least on the same page.

“Mh,” you scoffed, changing your position to end up kneeling on the couch right next to him. “Do I really need to say it?”

Truth is, you didn't. If you did say those words, he would feel too humiliated. It was humiliating enough for him to have you knowing his filthy secret, so Hyunjin just couldn't imagine how overwhelmed he would feel if you were to say anything about the situation.

“You know, it is actually kind of funny,” you taunted. Now that he was sitting right next to you, with his cock hard and his cheeks tinted, Hyunjin’s image was everything but funny.

“I am guessing this is the reason behind you not being able to concentrate on this project,” your hand sneaking all the way to the striped cushion as you took it from his lap —this time around, he didn't stop you. “So I think it's funny”.

He couldn't wrap his head about your choice of words. Funny?

“How come?” he felt less pathetic then. Still as embarrassed, but at least the relief of knowing you didn't think of him as a pervert gave him just the tiniest bit of comfort.

“You are hard and I am wet,” you chuckled, wrapping your hands underneath his left arm. That, combined with the words coming out of your mouth, made Hyunjin’s cock twitch inside his sweatpants. “Had I not seen that, we would have spent hours working on this while being aroused”.

Now, that was too good to be true.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” your hands cupped his face with delicacy, forcing him towards you. “Given the circumstances, we can help each other out, right?”

There was something Hyunjin needed to know first, before agreeing to do whatever it was that you were suggesting. Perhaps it was his ego, or mere curiosity, but he couldn't hold the question back.

“Why were you wet?”

The short, obvious answer was because you were aroused. But you both knew he didn't want to hear that —he was more interested in knowing what caused it.

“Why do you think so?” you scoffed softly, dragging your hand along his arm until it reached his wrist. “You are here, and we are both alone so it was impossible for me not to think about stuff”.

“What kind of stuff?”

For better or for worse, Hyunjin lost his inhibitions slowly. Had you reacted differently than you did, he was sure things wouldn't have been the way they were.

“Too many questions,” you shook your head softly, guiding his wrist between your parted legs. “Why don't you tell me what made you hard?”

He repressed a moan as soon as his digits grazed against your core —even with your underwear and shorts on, he could feel how warm you were.

“You,” he simply responded, fixing his eyes on the way your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Do I make you hard?”

Hyunjin was just applying a small amount of pressure on you, yet you felt the need to swallow thickly. Your gaze was lost in the veins of his arms and the way his hand got lost between your legs.

“Yes,” Hyunjin sighed, lifting his eyes slightly up until they met your parted lips.

The fabric of his sweatpants outlined the shape of his bulge fine, and it was impossible not to clench at the image. There was a wet, small patch on them, and you were fighting the urges to release his cock and lick the tip of it to taste him.

“Does it happen often?” you softly cooed, tightening the grip on his wrist as his fingers started to touch you over your clothes.

Always, Hyunjin thought, when you’re around and when you’re not.

“I’m just curious,” you continued after a few seconds of silence, “it would be a huge compliment if it does”.

“Would it?” he swallowed thickly, gaze fluttering between your eyes and lips. “Why?”

“You know,” you replied, followed by a sigh, “you ask a lot of questions for someone who hasn’t given a proper response to any of mine”.

Hyunjin couldn’t argue with you on that.

“So,” still with his hand between your parted legs, you switched your position on the couch to be closer to him. “I asked you, does it happen often?”

“Yes,” he didn’t think it through this time and gave you the shortest, most honest answer within him. If that was what you needed to answer all of his questions, then he was going to play along. “Much more than I want to admit”.

“Mh,” you sarcastically pouted, resting your hand on top of his thigh. The sudden contact made him flinch in the slightest, but you found it adorable. “Don’t be shy with me, we’re not that different”.

If he hadn’t been biting his lower lip, he was sure a whimper would’ve escaped his lips as you squeezed his thigh, softly caressing it while you made your way to his crotch.

Luckily for him, he was showing much more self-control than the one he thought he had.

“We’re not?”

“Well, you too have turned me on more times than I can count now,” you murmured with boldness, “Is that weird? We don’t even talk much”.

It isn’t, Hyunjin thought to himself as a series of perverted memories flooded his mind.

Not that he would willingly share them with you. At least not right now.

“But you’re just too pretty,” a sighed escaped your lips while your hand finally wrapped around his bulge, stroking it ever so slightly on top of his clothes, “I can’t help myself”.

Hyunjin kicked his head back, resting it against the back of the sofa. His hand was still between your legs, and your hand was gripping the silhouette of his dick over his sweatpants.

It felt like something pulled out of his wildest fantasies, but he was overthinking it a lot. You were there, admittedly wet, and he was with you, painfully hard —it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, if you will, and he was about to waste it triumphantly.

“‘m sorry,” he squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing like you were hurting him albeit the soft grip you had on him, “I can’t”.

You missed the warmth of his digits against you almost instantly, only to be replaced by his hand wrapping around your wrist. He fully intended to push your touch away —the faster he got your hands off of him, the faster he would forget how they felt.

But his body betrayed him, and he could only do much as squeeze your wrist while you rubbed him off.

“Want me to stop?” You asked him, not knowing if you should continue, or just let the poor man go.

His body was stiff underneath your touch, but you could feel his cock twitching against your palm. It felt deliciously good, you could only fantasize about how much better it would feel inside of you.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” he simply responded, still with his eyes shut and his head kicked back. Hyunjin wanted to engrave the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, just as much as he wished to remember the sound of your breathing and the smell of your fragrance. “Fuck, I don’t know”.

Your eyes gleamed with the pride of coming up with a plan.

“Can I help you make up your mind?”

He blinked a couple of times, his hazy gaze barely focusing on you but your pair of hands that were dangerously close to the waist of his pants.

“You can say no, of course,” you squeezed his thigh softly, and that drew his attention back to your face, the corners of your lips rising into a flirty smile, “but I wouldn't do that if I were you”.

All he offers you in return is a sweet, desperate nod. A short one, at that —he basically tilted his head at his crotch as a way of saying go ahead, but that was all you needed to move on.

You went from sitting right by him, to kneel in the space he had created between his legs.

His eyes were following every move of yours, and refused to abandon your image at any moment —painfully enough, Hyunjin looked so fucking good from this angle of view.

The tip of your digits grazed against the elastic of his sweatpants, lowering them along with his underwear just as little as your plan required. And as soon as your hand wrapped around his erection, Hyunjin swore he was going to die. Or come. Which to Hyunjin’s concern, was exactly the same.

“W-wait, just, shit,” he didn’t wrap his hand around your wrist this time, but the conflict in his voice made you stop right on your tracks even before you got to do anything. “Wait, I’m not- I’m not that experienced, you know?”

“So?” You queried without bothering to hide the fact that the sudden confession perked you up a little.

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself,” Hyunjin exhaled, “which I probably already did, and I'm doing”.

So it really wasn't that he didn't like you enough, or that he didn't want this just as much as you did.

“What’s the worst thing that can happen, anyway?” your hands were still gripping the base of his cock, teasing it against your lips as you spoke.

“That I might come too fast,” he stuttered, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “You're not even doing anything and I can feel my cock throbbing like crazy”.

The filthy choice of words made your heart skip a beat —that, paired with the raspiness and deepness of his tone, only had you wishing he wouldn't shut up at all.

“So?” You repeated again, grinning with mischief. “I don’t mind if you come quick, as long as you can get hard for me again”.

Hyunjin let out a mixture between a moan and a grunt at your words, feeling visibly affected by them.

“If you keep saying stuff like that, I will come,” he inhaled sharply and swallowed thickly at the sight of your smile.

“Just tell me where”.

The small confidence Hyunjin built for himself after voicing out his concerns slowly faded away as soon as your tongue grazed against the tip of his cock —for a moment, he really thought he could hold up pretty well. But the sight of you as you made eye contact with him, while your tongue dragged along the side of his dick, was enough proof that he just couldn't stand a chance against his libido.

“Fuck,” he sighed, catching his lower lip between his teeth ever so slightly, “’m sorry”.

At that, you cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry about what?”

The kitten licks you were giving the tip of his cock didn't make things any easier for Hyunjin —the idea of putting together a whole sentence seemed impossible, and he knew if he were to talk in the middle of it he would just look pathetic.

“I don't mean to be this loud,” his hands were something between gripping the edge of the couch, and resting over his spread thighs; he was too focused on repressing the string of curses and moans that threatened to escape his lips.

“But I want to hear you, Hyunjin,” you purred, stroking his dick against one of your cheeks.

The sight was to die for, quite literally —your lips were glistening with spit, just like your chin and now your cheek. Both of your hands were wrapped around his dick, and you just looked too cute despite the lewd setting you were in.

“I love it when you curse,” you encouraged him, leaving wet kisses along his shaft. “You sound so good, you know?”

The compliments were definitely getting to Hyunjin's head, and you could tell because little by little, he started to leave the awkwardness aside and get really immersed in the moment.

He seemed too afraid of screwing things up, for some reason. You, on the other hand, didn't think he could screw anything up at all —Hyunjin had always turned you by doing the bare minimum, and you wondered if he was well aware of that.

You knew he wasn't, otherwise he would've carried himself with a little more ego and pride than he did.

"But you're a good boy, aren't you?" you continued, gently spitting on his cock to use it as lube. As you jerked him off, Hyunjin's hips instinctively bucked your palm. “You don’t curse, you don’t break rules, you don’t ever get loose…”

“I’m not that- good,” Hyunjin hissed, biting down his lower lip. “I just- fuck".

He kicked his head back when he felt a delicious squeeze of your hands around his balls, interrupting whatever it was that he meant to say.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” You asked, based on his reaction.

Again, you squeezed his balls ever so slightly while the tip of your tongue swirls around the head of his cock.

“I fucking love it”.

God, he sounded so good. So good when he cursed, when he moaned and when your name fell from his lips. Sensuality looked good on him, despite him not knowing jack shit about it.

"I swear I've never wanted to taste someone so bad in my entire life," you giggled, letting out a hiss when you felt his hard dick throbbing between your hands, "want you to come in my mouth, I’ll swallow it".

You weren't his first —despite his awkwardness and lack of girlfriend history whatsoever, Hyunjin had a couple of experiences he could trail back to.

But none of them came close to whatever it was that he was feeling right now.

“I’m close,” he warned you, his hands alternating between grabbing your head and your cheeks, “fuck- I’m so fucking close”.

Eagerly, you continued bopping your head up and down his length, jerking off with your hands the part that just couldn't fit in your mouth. Between your strokes and the way you squeezed and caressed his balls, you had Hyunjin coming in no time.

“Shit-” he whimpered, forcing your head down onto his cock until your nose hit his pubic bone.

You weren't expecting him to make you deepthroat his cock, but you tried to take it like a champ nonetheless. All for him and his pleasure.

And honestly, he didn't mean to do that exactly. It was an instinct, something done in the heat of the moment, but he just couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed maybe a bit too much the sound and feeling of you gagging around his dick.

You had never seen someone looking this hot while coming —his cheeks were flushed, his eyebrows furrowed, his teeth were chewing at his bottom lip and his whole body was shaking and grinding ever so slightly against your mouth, hips raised against the couch while he chased his high.

It was a long high —he came so much down your throat, it eventually spilled out from the corners of your lips onto the length and base of his cock.

Messy, but neither of you could begin to care.

“God,” Hyunjin exhaled, his whole body relaxing onto the couch after all the tension he had been carrying ever since got to your apartment.

He let go of your face and you continued jerking him off with his own cum for a couple of seconds as your movements died down.

“Did you- did you swallow it?”

Rather than giving him a response, you just stuck out your tongue —empty, clean, with just a small amount of him still in you. He tasted just like you imagined, and that did nothing more than to turn you on.

“I told you,” you smiled, “I wanted to taste you”.

Hyunjin looked at you for a couple of seconds, blinking perplexed. His heart was still going at a thousand miles per hour, his head was spinning around your apartment and his cock was still as rock hard, despite having come just minutes ago.

And, impulsively, he leaned down to kiss you.

You were still on your knees between his legs, but he cupped your cheeks and practically forced you onto his lips. It was sloppy, and fast, but at the same time it was far from unpleasant. The feeling of his tongue against yours, tasting himself off of you, was enough to elicit a moan from the two of you.

From one moment to another you were no longer kneeling between his legs, but laying down on the couch with your back against a soft cushion. Hyunjin was between kneeling and sitting right on top of you, with his hands on either side of your body.

“I want to taste you too,” he panted in between kisses, leaving a wet trail of them from your lips to your jaw, “want to make you feel real good, just like you did to me”.

You were dying to fuck him, but you weren't going to reject it. More than one night you snuck your hand between your panties wishing it was Hyunjin's face and tongue, so you trembled in excitement at knowing that one of your fantasies was about to become true.

Or a couple of them.

“Please,” yours and Hyunjin’s hands lost no time in struggling you out of your bottoms, leaving them out of your rear of view.

Embarrassingly for you, but luckily to Hyunjin, the fabric and color of your underwear did absolutely nothing to hide your wetness —stripping you out of it was a delight to him, who could catch a glimpse of your arousal sticking to your panties.

Carefully, he positioned himself somewhat flat against the couch with his face between your legs. Your back was slightly straight against the couch's arm rest, and your knees softly bent with your feet against the faux leather of it, so he hooked one of his hands under your thigh while the other caressed the side of your body.

“You’re so pretty,” Hyunjin whispered under his breath leaving a couple of shy kisses along your inner thighs. The slight contact of his breathing against your hot cunt made your back arched. “Pretty face, pretty pussy”.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

His half-lidded eyes looked up to you, “I've always thought you were the prettiest”.

He started off really slow, getting to know your body. You were desperate for more, for something messy and rough, but you allowed him to take his time. Even more so because it seemed though as if he was gaining confidence as he explored you, and you loved to see it.

“So good,” he groaned against your slit, “could eat you out for hours”.

You wouldn't mind. He just looked too good buried in the heat between your legs, and his wet tongue felt heavenly against your clit and folds.

After some time, his fingers came into the mix as well. Two digits stretching your cunt open, cautiously, while he kept on licking and sucking your clit.

“Right there Hyunjin,” you arched your back, gasping when his digits brushed against that spot. “Fuck, you just- shit, right there feels so fucking good”.

Seeing you like that, gasping and writhing underneath him, contributed a little to his ego.

“Is it good?”

“Fucking perfect,” you cursed, rolling your hips against him, “can’t wait to feel your cock”.

Hyunjin knew that things were eventually leading up to sex, but it didn't feel real until you named it. Until you told him you wanted to feel him inside you, until you implied that it was only a matter of minutes before he got to enact his fantasies with you.

His hips grinded against the couch, too, as he ate you out.

Needy to feel your warmth, desperate to give you all of his cum again.

“I want you to come first like this,” Hyunjin murmured, with his fingers buried in your pussy and his nose brushing ever so slightly against your swollen clit, “with my mouth and fingers. Then, I will make you come with my cock”.

You moaned at his words.

“It’s a promise?”

“It’s a promise”.

You kicked your head back against the couch’s arm rest, and arched your back when you felt the tension threatening to unravel down your lower abdomen.

His tongue was moving deliciously where you needed it, and his fingers never lost its pace and rhythm inside you.

“Hyunjin,” you chanted, latching your fingers onto his dark hair, “don’t stop”.

Not that he was planning to.

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, moving your hips as much as his grip allowed you to. “So close Hyunjin, I’m so close”.

Heavenly.

His name falling from your lips felt right, just like it did your mouth around his cock and his tongue flat against your clit. You felt right, much more better than whatever he had been imagining the past years while masturbating on his own.

“Like that,” Hyunjin hissed, watching in awe the way your pussy and ass clenched at your orgasm. But as much as he wanted to enjoy the view, he also wanted to feel you getting wetter and wetter as you came, so he quickly returned to latch his mouth on your pussy and his eyes on you.

“Shit!” your hips were bucking against his face frantically, almost aggressively. But he didn't stop, and elongated your high as much as he possibly could, “Can’t stop- fuck, can’t stop coming”.

It felt like a never ending orgasm, one prompted by Hyunjin's lustful gaze —the more eye contact you made, the more aroused you felt.

“More, more Hyunjin,” you sounded desperate, and that made his dickthrob against the couch. He wanted to make you come again, and again, and until you no could no longer take it.

But he would be lying if he said he wasn't impatient for fucking you.

“I’ll give you more,” he murmured, withdrawing from your body when you finally came down from your high. “But just- want to give it to you with my cock”.

Whenever you thought about sex with Hyunjin, you always pictured yourself being on top. Maybe it was because of his shyness, or because you felt like you needed to take the initiative, but you almost always came at the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick.

Much to your surprise, he didn't lose time before positioning his body between your spread legs, not before removing his shirt and doing the same with yours as well.

He was going to fuck you in missionary, you figured. And you almost came at the realization of it.

Most men these days all they want is to get their dicks wet with minimal to no effort —Hyunjin was trying hard to please you, and that was alone much more satisfactory than any other experienced you had so far.

“I want to see your face when I'm fucking you," it was almost like he read your thoughts. Not that you had any complains, but quick fucks never cared for the intimacy sex entailed.

Hyunjin was different.

“Definitely not my best look,” you swallowed, thinking about your ruined make up and post-orgasm fucked out face.

“I could come just by looking at you,” he confessed, eyes falling to your spread legs. “I swear”.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pumped his dick a few times before realizing that he was missing something.

“You uh-” he felt embarrassed, but he honestly didn’t think he would get to fuck you, out of all the people. He came to your apartment to work on a school project, not to get laid. “I don’t have a condom”.

“Want to do it raw?”

He gulped.

Of course he wanted to. Using a condom was never part of his fantasies —shit, almost all his fantasies ended up with him filling you up, despite how risky that was.

“I honestly want to, but I’d understand if you-”.

“Are you-”

“I’m on the pill,” you reassured him, “and I’m clean. I want you to fuck me raw if that’s what you want too”.

“I do,” Hyunjin sighed, licking his lips at the thought of getting to really feel you. “Fuck, I do”.

And despite the logical, rational part of him that insisted it probably wasn't the brightest idea ever, Hyunjin guided the tip of his cock against your clit. The sudden stimulation made your body jolt, but he didn't stay there for too long.

His cock slid easily right inside, and the way your walls clenched around him as they got used to his size almost makes Hyunjin come.

“Finally,” you exhaled, closing your eyes while he bottomed out slowly.

Hyunjin groaned quietly, softly pressing your hips against his.

“You’re so tight,” he gritted his teeth, “squeezing me just right”.

He hovered you, leaning down to kiss you yet again. He wasn't moving, just fully enjoying the way you felt wrapped around him.

He didn't know if he was going to have another chance to experience this, so he intended to memorize everything —from the way your tongue tasted, to the way your pussy clenched on him.

Only this time, the kiss wasn't as sloppy; it was intense, deep and it left you breathless. He kissed you ardently, brushing his tongue against yours, biting down your lower lip and pulling it ever so slightly.

“I’m going to-” he sighed in between kisses, “are you- alright?”

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his hips, “fuck me already, Hyunjin”.

Slowly but surely, he started acquiring a pace of his own. And fuck, it felt delicious.

His pubic bone slammed against your clit, providing some stimulation; his cock reached the deepest spots inside you, and his mouth worked wonders on your neck and chest.

It was unfair how perfect he was —so good at everything.

“Harder,” your hands reached out to cup his face, pressing your forehead against his. “Fuck me harder, please”.

He understood what you wanted.

Hyunjin didn't necessarily fucked you faster after you plea, no. He smacked his hips against yours roughly, going impossibly deeper into you. His pace was slow, but each thrust made you moan and gasp every time.

“There you go,” he murmured in a quiet, drowned groan.

You hid your face on the crook of his neck, sucking on his flesh meaning to leave red and purple blossoms all over it. For some reason, the idea of seeing him the next day at college campus and peeking to see the marks you left on him kind of excited you.

It was also going to remind you that this was real, and that it happened.

“Right there, Hyunjin,” you enjoyed the feeling of him ruthlessly pounding into you. He was sweet, gentle, and caring, but his movements weren't. He appeared to be someone innocent, but he wasn’t —at least not when he was fucking you good like he this.

“Feeling good?”

“Perfect,” you replied, “you’re so- hard inside me, you feel perfect”.

The harshness of his thrusts suddenly died down as he regained his pace; they become hotter, more sensual.

His eyes went from looking at you, to closing shut at times. He licked his lower lip constantly, alternating between chewing on it softly, too.

When Hyunjin wasn't too focused on his overwhelming pleasure, he was focused on your body.

How it reacted, how sensitive it was, what things you liked. He kissed your chest and sucked on your hardened nipples, and he soon understood you loved it —at least judged by the way you clenched around his dick.

He also realized he liked the feeling of your fingers latched onto his hair —he enjoyed when you pulled it a bit too roughly, and he didn't mind the pain of it.

“Can you come with me?” Hyunjin asked in between grunts. “I’m close- but I want you to come with me, come at the same time”.

“I’m close too,” you sneaked a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit lazily. “Want to come with you, and feel you coming inside me”.

It suddenly became much more intimate than you initially intended to —his eyes were glued to yours, saying way more than his words could ever do. You could see the lust, affection, and even perversion in his gaze; the longing of always staring from afar, but now getting to have you underneath him with your legs spread and your pussy around him.

It didn't take you any long to reach that sweet release you both had been chasing ever since he stepped a foot into your apartment.

“I’m coming,” you gasped, digging your nails onto the flesh of his shoulders and back, “come”.

Hyunjin pressed his forehead against yours, and when he felt your walls clenching, he immediately released too.

He didn’t want to think about his cum filling you up, nor the image of his arousal oozing out of your pretty pusy. He didn’t want to think too much about what you just let him do, and he didn’t want to think about the risk of it although it kind of turned him on.

A loud moan escaped his lips when he thrusted his cock harder into you, reaching yet another deep spot inside your walls. With each slam of his hips, he shot his orgasm painting you white from the inside.

A warm, eerie feeling you hadn't experience before, because you just refused to fuck anyone raw.

But Hyunjin isn't just anyone.

“God,” he gulped loudly, panting and out of breath.

You could feel his cum dripping out of you, despite his dick still filling you up, and you just couldn't believe how much he came twice in a row.

“Was it good?” your voice sounded exactly the same, hoarse and strained. You could barely breathe, but you didn’t care —he collapsed on top of you carefully, without wanting to hurt you, and you both tried to stabilize your breathing together.

“Better than my imagination, that’s for sure”.

You kissed his cheek and enjoyed the intimacy, wondering if the shy, awkward Hyunjin was going to make an appearance any time soon. In very little time you got to see a whole new side of him, just as shy but a lot less shallow than what you “knew” about him prior to that day, and you were still not ready to find out how things were going to be after this.

“I should probably- get something to clean you up,” you only realized how messy a creampie is when Hyunjin pulled out, making his cum to drip out of you and onto the couch.

But you came up with a better plan.

“What if we take a shower?”

He looked at you, but soon diverted his gaze to the pile of unfinished work you had.

“Come on, don’t get shy on me,” you pouted, sitting carefully on the couch right next to him. “I’m not getting shy it’s just-”, he makes a long pause and smiles to himself. A very faint, almost imperceptible grimace, but you caught on it, “I don’t think I can be naked around you without ending up fucking you again”.

“Sounds like a win to me”.

“I expected much more from the two of you,” Mr. Jung handed you the final essay you allegedly worked so hard on. Judged by the stern tone of his voice, and the deep exhalation your project partner let out, you can only assume it was a bad grade. “Not the greatest work you’ve had delivered”.

Your gaze fell down in embarrassment, and Hyunjin cleared his throat, “we’re sorry. With the end of the semester we kind of- got distracted”.

And if by distracted you mean fucking like animals at every chance you were alone, whether in a private or a public setting, then yes.You got so fucking distracted.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut

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scribbly-artist · 25 days ago

Text

Persuasion

Summary: It was always a battle to drag each other away from the lab, even when they were both on the brink of exhaustion. Viktor was being stubborn this time, however, Jayce has a trick up his sleeve that will persuade him.

Author’s Notes: Thanks to a very nice anon for sending the prompt for this one!! I apologise to not getting to this sooner, but I’ve had a bit of a rough week and last weekend I was out of town, so this took a little bit to get to. I had fun writing this one! Sometimes I get a little stuck writing Viktor, even though he’s my favourite. His way of speaking is hard to pin down (I find Jayce much easier somehow lol). But hey, I finally got to write them together this time! I hope you have fun reading. :) (And psst, if you’d like to see me write something in particular, feel free to send a prompt my way. ;) )

Words: ~1,200 | AO3 Link

Scrape scrape scrape.

This was the only noise that filled Jayce’s head as he stood a distance away from his partner, Viktor, writing on the blackboard in the laboratory.

They had been through another all-nighter, presently being in the early hours of the morning. The sun was just rising through the tall windows, the sky painted a beautiful mixture of colours… if only Jayce had the capacity to admire it.

Jayce and Viktor were no strangers to all-nighters. But these past few days in particular, they barely had much rest. And it’s been a while since Jayce has had any coffee. That wasn’t the case for Viktor, though. It seemed like the man never ran out of steam, regardless of how long he stayed awake - until his body just decides to collapse from exhaustion, which unfortunately has happened before.

Jayce was writing further notes in a book with a quill - he thought maybe changing writing utensils would inspire a breakthrough. But he couldn’t concentrate, not when his body was this fatigued. At this point, his legs felt like cement, eager to send his body crashing down.

“Viktor… don’t you think we should go and take a break?” Jayce let out a sleepy yawn, blinking slowly. He shook his head to try to ward off the drowsiness, but nothing seemed to be working.

“We’re close to something, Jayce. I can feel it.” Viktor didn’t even turn his head around to speak to Jayce directly - he just continued writing on the blackboard, the noise getting on Jayce’s frayed nerves.

“Look - I’m tired. And I’m sure you are, too. We can’t make Hextech as good as it deserves to be if we’re both exhausted. We need to go and recharge.” Jayce closed his notebook, quill in hand.

“You are free to leave if you so desire to, Jayce. However, I have much more to do.”

Jayce’s hand moved to rub his eyes, a heavy sigh leaving his lungs.

“We’re partners, Viktor. We need to do this together. Which means we should look out for each other, too. I know how drained you are, you just won’t show it. Do it for your health, V.”

Viktor paused for a moment at the mention of the nickname. But it was only for a second as he continued to scribble on the board, not giving a verbal response.

Jayce’s unsatisfied eyes bore into the back of Viktor’s head. Not that Viktor could feel his gaze or anything, he was too absorbed in his work. It looked like Jayce would have to resort to… other methods to get Viktor to listen to him. Methods he had to use rather often.

Jayce looked at Viktor, then at the quill in his hand. Then, back at Viktor…

Both men have used tried and true methods to pull each other out of the lab when the other needed a break. Enticing them with food or sleep, going for a walk, or literally dragging the other out kicking and screaming. It was all for the others' health and sanity. There was one method that Jayce was fond of using, as it had a one-hundred percent success rate when Viktor was being particularly stubborn.

Jayce took a few steps forward to approach Viktor so he was standing right behind him. Viktor didn't acknowledge his presence or his movement.

Holding the pen end of the quill, Jayce reached up and fluttered the feather end gently across the back of Viktor’s neck.

The reaction was instant.

Viktor dropped the piece of chalk that was in his hand, a clink as it hit the floor and broke in the middle. Viktor didn't turn his head.

Jayce wasn't expecting that reaction, but a reaction nonetheless. He kept tickling the nape of Viktor’s neck with the feather, a grin slowly forming on his face.

“Don't tell me you're ticklish here, too.” Jayce could only quietly chuckle as Viktor shook his head, shrugging his shoulders to try to ward the feather off.

Viktor finally turned himself around, his cheeks a little red. “No, o-of course not. Don't be ridiculous.” He took a breath and steeled himself, not letting anything slip as he turned back around, picking up another piece of chalk to try to concentrate.

“I dunno, it seems like it. Just a tiny bit.” Jayce’s grin widened.

Jayce decided to mess with him a little more. He flicked the feather from his neck to the side of his ear, swishing it up and down on the skin delicately.

Viktor put the piece of chalk back down, and used his hand to cover his mouth instead, his shoulders shaking. He would not give Jayce the satisfaction of winning this battle. But little did he realise this would just egg Jayce on further.

“What's wrong, Viktor? You're not going to work anymore? You put the chalk down,” Jayce commented aloud, he was too pleased with himself. This always seemed to happen - with either of them - when one had to drag the other out of the lab. “Think we should take a break now?”

“Jahahayce— I’m nearly done—“ it was hard for Viktor to get his words out as Jayce kept on switching the feather to tickle behind his ears and to the back of his neck. Whenever Viktor would try to crane his neck away or shrug his shoulders up to protect his ears, the feather would always follow. Despite his hand covering his mouth, his breathy laugh was slipping through. “Just— hehehe! J-Just five more minutes, alrihihight?” Viktor attempted to bargain with Jayce, but that wasn’t going to fly.

Jayce let out a dramatic sigh, as if it pained him to do this. “You’ve forced my hand, V.”

Without giving Viktor even a tick to register what Jayce had said, Jayce dropped the quill as his hands darted down to squeeze at Viktor’s hips, it was always a hotspot.

Viktor broke out into a loud cackle from surprise, dissolving into giggling. He made an attempt to grab at Jayce’s wrists, but he was much too quick as his hands darted to Viktor’s sides to skitter there. After a few moments, Viktor finally managed to grab Jayce’s wrists and pull them away from his body.

“FINE! Yohohou’ve convinced mehehe, Jayce.” Viktor sucked in a few breaths as he kept his hold on Jayce’s wrists, making sure Jayce wasn’t planning another tickly attack.

“I knew I could change your mind,” a smirk grew on Jayce’s face as he dropped his hands from Viktor’s wrist, placing one of his hands on Viktor’s shoulder instead. “Think we should grab something to eat and try to find a place to sleep for a few hours? After we get some much needed brain food, I know we can figure this out.”

“That would be ideal, yes.” Viktor gave a nod as he reached for his cane, getting himself ready to go. “We should go now, before I glue myself back to this board.”

“I agree. C’mon, time for some fresh air.” Jayce led the way as Viktor followed closely behind him, his cane clinking on the floor with each step.

It was hard work just convincing each other to leave the lab, on top of already being exhausted. Viktor in particular was always harder to persuade, so Jayce deserved a good nap after all of this.

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naughtyneganjdm · 19 days ago

Text

Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 4

Summary: Joel wakes up confused with the emotions that he is feeling for Y/N. While they try to talk about things, Tommy realizes that there might be something there between them so he invites Y/N to take a day trip with him and Joel to allow them to get closer.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, Maria, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/157234900

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, A Very Tragic Backstory for the character of Y/N, Depressing Conversations, etc.

Notes: Sorry for updating this late, but it's the best time for me to update things. So I'm sorry if there are any errors. Thanks to those that continue read this. This chapter has a tragic backstory for the Y/N character that might be depressing and I want to alert people of that just in case it may trigger them. If you want to read previous chapters, you can find them here.

Waking up feeling good was not something that Joel was used to. In fact? Every morning when Joel woke up, he felt miserable. Each day, it grew harder for Joel just to do anything. Living became a chore and it was hard. But this morning? What Joel felt was unlike anything he felt in a very long time. Comfort. Warmth. When he finally started to stir, he felt relaxed and at ease. So much so that that when he woke up this morning due to the sunlight that was shining through the partially opened blind of the window, he didn’t even bother to get up. Everything felt so nice that he just closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth that was wrapped up in his arms.

Sleeping and relaxing was not something he enjoyed. So he wasn’t going to fight this feeling. Not when it felt so good to finally be at peace. Even for a little while. Forcing his eyes open was hard, but when he finally did? The memories from the night before flooded into his mind. Tipping his head down, the warmth of Y/N’s body cuddled in closer to him with her still asleep. Smirking, Joel nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck. This turned out to be a very complicated thing between them, but he liked it. More than he should have. Squeezing his arm firmly around her waist brought her closer to him and this whole thing made him question things. Was last night just drunken actions brought out because of liquid courage? Had what they done been a mistake? Regardless of those answers, he knew that this was not a feeling that he was used to.

Settling in again, Joel’s eyes fluttered to a close knowing that it had been a long time since he was able to sleep in like this. And that’s exactly what he did. Fell back asleep. There wasn’t a want to force himself to get up. That was until he felt the vibrating of his cell phone in his pocket. At first it was annoying because he was so tired he didn’t realize what it was. But when he did? His eyes opened wide with a panicked breath falling from his lips. Raising his head from the pillow, Joel unhooked his arm unhurriedly from around her waist. Digging his hand into his pocket, Joel scoffed when he had a hard time getting his phone out. Finally getting it from his pocket, he lifted it up. Squinting his eyes, Joel had a hard time seeing what the screen was saying. His eyesight was still incredibly blurry. When things came to, Joel cussed out and looked over his shoulder to see what time it was.

“Fuck,” Joel slurred noticing that it was eleven and he had promised to meet Tommy at nine downstairs. That meant he was two hours late. And he had plans with Tommy. Which made this whole thing bad.

Raising his head just enough, Joel checked to make sure that Y/N was still sleeping. Even though he didn’t want to, he carefully slid out from behind her. Taking his time, he was cautious in the way he helped her get cuddled back into bed before he got up slowly. More than anything, he wanted her to be able to relax, so he didn’t rush. He quietly moved through the room, grabbing his boots from the floor. Something caught his foot causing him to stumble from her bedroom into the sitting room and it had him cussing under his breath. Working his boots on, Joel tried to come up with a good lie to give Tommy. Because the truth? The truth would only be too hard to explain. What could he say to Tommy that was actually believable?

Once more his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Grunting out, Joel realized that Tommy was persistent with this. And it made sense because Tommy was very on about things all the time. Moving to the door, Joel was cautious in the way he opened it because he didn’t want to wake her up. Managing to get the door open, Joel snuck out with his back turned. When the door clicked closed, Joel dropped his hands down to pull his pants back together. Turning on his heel as he started hooking his belt back up, Joel felt his heart drop. Jumping, Joel’s eyes connected with Tommy’s from where Tommy was leaning back against the wall that was directly across from the suite. It was almost as if Tommy was expecting him. With a half smile, Joel cleared his throat as he stood up straight.

Dropping his hands, Joel heard his undone belt jangle and he let out a hesitant sound, “Tommy. Hey.”

“Goddamn it Joel,” Tommy huffed, throwing his hand up in the air drawing attention to his cell phone. Ending the call, Tommy shoved his phone back into his pocket. Suddenly Joel felt like a child that had been caught red handed doing something awful. “When I couldn’t find you this morning, I had a feeling that this was where you were. Seeing you with that girl last night?! She’s one of our guests Joel.”

“No, it’s not…it’s not what it looks like,” Joel tried to explain himself, dropping his head down when Tommy looked down at his belt. Haphazardly hooking the belt together, Joel stepped away from the door and toward his younger brother. “Okay, it looks bad, but nothing happened. We just were talking and then we slept together. I mean, actually slept. Not the naughty sleep.”

“Joel, she was drunk as a skunk by the time she walked out that door with you,” Tommy reminded Joel with a firm shake of his head. Joel winced when he realized that he himself had a hangover and the sound of Tommy lecturing him along with the bright lights was doing a number on his headache. “That woman couldn’t make any kind of decisions…”

“We were both drunk, but I swear I didn’t sleep with her,” Joel reiterated to his brother not wanting him to think that he took advantage of a drunk woman. That made him look bad and he was surprised that Tommy would even think he’d do something like that. But suddenly? He grew embarrassed thinking of the truth. “We just…cuddled?”

“You? You cuddled?” Tommy repeated what Joel had said, his eyes narrowing when he gazed over his brother. “Then why were your pants undone if nothing happened last night?”

“Okay, well…” Joel thought about that and realized how Tommy could think that was something bad. Now he really was starting to feel like a child being lectured by their parent. “So we may have kissed once.”

“Once?” Tommy didn’t seem to think everything was adding up with Joel sucking in a sharp breath of air. Red was flooding into Joel’s face with Tommy’s eyebrow arching up in curiosity. “Joel did you sleep with that woman?”

“I slept with her, but I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t have sex,” Joel blurt out, hooking his arm around Tommy’s shoulders to get him to move away from the door that led to Y/N’s room. With them bickering, Joel was nervous that Y/N would be able to hear it. “I swear when I tell you nothing happened, I mean it. We kissed some last night and that’s all we did. And, y’know what? Really? It’s your fault that we did!”

“My fault? It’s my fault?” Tommy’s eyes grew wide, his hand placing in over the center of his chest. “It’s my fault that you and Y/N started kissing? How in God’s name do you reckon I did that big brother?”

“By putting up mistletoe in front of our fucking inn. Why the hell would you hang mistletoe up with all of them decorations Tommy?” Joel snapped, defending himself in the moment. Really, when he brought her home last night he had no plans of kissing her. The only reason he did was because of that mistletoe. That started the whole thing. Pointing toward the front of the hotel in the direction of the decorations, Joel’s brown eyes grew wide and Tommy still was frustrated along with confused.

“Mistletoe? Joel, you’re talking crazy,” Tommy snorted eliciting an annoyed eye roll from Joel. Reaching for Tommy’s arm, Joel led his brother down the steps and outside. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Joel pointed up toward the mistletoe that the woman had mentioned the night before.

“See. It’s mistletoe. You put up fucking mistletoe. We were out here talking and then this old woman came out of the inn lecturing us about how if we didn’t kiss, it would be bad luck. So we ended up kissing and…” Joel went to continue, realizing that he was rambling too damn much with Tommy’s dark eyes hooked on the decoration that he put up. “Why would you even put that there Tommy? That’s where our guests show up to check in. What if we have someone helping our guests in and they both end up underneath that?”

“Are you outta your goddamn mind?” Tommy stepped forward, grabbing a hold of Joel’s shoulders to get him to focus on the decoration he was venting about. Holding his hand up, Tommy grunted behind Joel. “That there Joel, is holly. Not mistletoe.”

“No. No, see the woman distinctly said it was mistletoe. And if we didn’t kiss it would lead to a ton of bad luck,” Joel recalled what had happened the night before. Suddenly things started to spin around him with the idea that he was wrong. “That’s definitely mistletoe.”

“What old woman? We don’t have an old woman staying here Joel,” Tommy educated his brother, his nose wrinkling at his brother insisting that he didn’t know what the decoration was. “That there is holly, Joel.”

“No, it’s…” Joel out of the corner of his eye saw Maria heading out the doors. Scrambling for Maria, Joel hooked his arm around her to lead her back with him and Tommy. “Maria, would you please tell your husband that the decoration that is right there is mistletoe?”

“Why would I do that?” Maria froze up in Joel’s grasps, eyeing over her shoulder back at Joel. His big, brown eyes looked shocked since she wasn’t saying what he wanted to hear. “That’s holly.”

“I told you,” Tommy asserted to his brother, a laugh falling deep from within his throat. “How did you get holly mixed up with mistletoe Joel? Holly is the one with the red berries and the dark green leaves. That’s not mistletoe.”

“Why are the two of you having a disagreement about holly?” Maria was entertained that the two of them were bickering outside over this. They often fought a lot, but never over something so…unimportant?

“Because Joel confused the holly for mistletoe and he ended up kissing Y/N last night because of it. Started blaming me because he said I put up mistletoe,” Tommy alerted Maria causing a rush of color to flood into Joel’s face with him getting embarrassed. Now he felt like an idiot for this whole thing. The woman last night was wrong and clearly neither him nor Y/N knew what mistletoe looked like. “I found him sneaking out of her suite just now.”

“Oh,” Maria thought about what Tommy said, her eyes getting big when she actually fully acknowledged it. “Oh!”

“Nothing happened,” Joel repeated what he had told Tommy, seeing the curiosity that flooded Maria’s features and the smile that followed. Why was no one believing him? “Nothing happened. I swear.”

“If you say so,” Maria reached out to pat Joel on the shoulder. Groaning out, Joel lifted his hand to cover his eyes. Both the stress of this and the sunlight was giving him a migraine at this point. “Tommy, go take your brother inside and get him something to help him with his hangover.”

“Yes ma’am,” Tommy was quick to agree, dragging Joel into the building and toward the empty bar knowing that no one else would be there so they could talk. Sitting Joel down, Tommy grabbed Joel some medication for his headache and then brought him some coffee. “So…now you like this girl? Last time I spoke to you, you couldn’t stand her.”

“I…” Joel could have lied, his dark eyes lifting to meet Tommy’s stare. Sure, he always bickered with the girl, but he didn’t think he hated her. “I don’t know. We hardly know each other.”

“But you liked her enough to sleep with her,” Tommy stressed to his brother getting another glare from Joel. Throwing his hands up, Tommy knew that if looks could kill he would be dead. “Sleep with her. Not have sex with her.”

“Thank you,” Joel appreciated that Tommy acknowledged that bit. At this point, he was still fairly certain that both Tommy and Maria thought he had sex with Y/N. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at nine. I just, I was so comfortable that I ignored what time it was and I just went back to bed. It felt…”

“Nice?” Tommy finished for Joel with his lips parting. At that moment his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. Dropping his head down, Joel shakily brushed his fingers throughout his hair and hissed. Giving Tommy one single nod made Tommy smile brightly. “Wow. Not what I saw happening. You like the new girl.”

“She’s crazy,” Joel exclaimed, throwing his hand up in the air after he tossed the pills into his mouth. “Who jumps on a plane with no idea where they are going?”

“She did,” Tommy answered Joel who continued to vent.

“Who takes the advice of a random stranger, doesn’t even study where they are going and ends up freezing because they got themselves into this mess?” Joel continued to ramble drawing out a snort from Tommy.

“She did,” Tommy repeated his answer, sliding in beside his brother realizing that his brother was having a tiny meltdown about the woman that had just come to their inn.

“I can’t like someone like that. I’m nothing like that,” Joel exhaled loudly, the lines in his forehead growing deeper. “Who ends up having feelings for someone in a day?”

“You do,” Tommy was quick to respond, getting a glare from Joel that made him laugh out loud. It was interesting to see Joel like this. Especially since Tommy couldn’t remember a time when a woman had Joel flustered in a good way.

“This isn’t funny Tommy. She’s a mess,” Joel repeated what he knew to be true. Even last night when they were in the bar together, her drunk rant proved that to him. “She makes crazy, impulsive decisions without thinking them through.”

“So?” Tommy didn’t know why that was a bad thing. Having Joel panic about that of all things didn’t make sense to Tommy. “You’re a mess too.”

“Thanks for that,” Joel sneered, his head dropping down with his brother only confirming what Joel also knew to be true. The thought of all of this had an ache growing at the center of Joel’s chest. “I found her infuriating at first.”

“What changed that?” Tommy wondered, his brown eyes searching his brother’s trying to understand what happened that had Joel’s opinion of her change completely.

“She did,” Joel didn’t elaborate, his hand placing in over the center of his chest. Trying to gather words, Joel didn’t know what he could say. He wasn’t exactly sure where to start because he didn’t know when he started feeling things for her. “It can’t be anything though because she just got here. I barely know the woman.”

“Sometimes, when you know you know,” Tommy stammered, tapping his hand against the bar top watching Joel take a long swig of the coffee. “All it takes is a look sometimes for you to know you’re hooked. That’s all it took for me with Maria.”

“She’s nothing like any of the woman I’ve gotten with before,” Joel considered his past and thought back on the women he had in his life previously. Comparing her to them was hard because she didn’t have much in common with them.

“Maybe that’s a good thing?” Tommy pointed out, throwing his hand about realizing that this was the most his brother probably talked in the last few months. “It’s kinda cute seeing you flustered over a woman. That must have been some kiss.”

“Don’t,” Joel begged realizing that Tommy was poking fun at him. “You’re gonna start acting weird around her which is gonna make things worse in general. I don’t even know if she wanted to really kiss me last night or if it was because we were both drunk. She may not even remember doing it.”

“Is that something you would prefer?” Tommy pushed his brother for information, actually wanting to know Joel’s feelings on the issue. “Would you rather ignore things between you both?”

“She’s gonna leave Tommy,” Joel reminded his brother about the woman that they were currently talking about. “She’s from New York City. She’s just here because her mental health was poor and she needed to escape a bad situation. Once she gathers herself, she’s just gonna leave. And then what?”

“When’s the last time you had a relationship with someone?” Tommy questioned waiting for his brother to answer, but Joel refused. “When is the last time that you did anything with anyone?”

Again, Joel didn’t answer Tommy he just forced himself to look away, “Why is it so bad to allow yourself to get close to someone? Even if for a while.”

“Because I’m not like you,” Joel reminded Tommy, a scoff falling from his parted lips. “I’m not the hopeless romantic that makes people happy. I’m the last person that people want to have a relationship with. I don’t make emotional connections with people.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to change that,” Tommy threw his hands up in the air trying to persuade his brother that this whole thing wasn’t what he thought it was. Reaching for the coffee, Joel took a long sip of it and grumbled to himself. “I never saw you dance with anyone. Not even Tess when the two of you were together. She got you to do things I’ve never seen.”

“Only because I was worried that someone would take advantage of her,” Joel explained, setting the coffee cup down and waving his hand about in the air. Last night when she ran off to dance, he was genuinely concerned that someone in town would take advantage of her. “She was running her mouth off about things because she was very much drunk. Certain people heard her talkin’ and I think they would have tried to do something.”

“Look at you coming in and being her hero,” Tommy teased Joel, reaching out to poke Joel in the ribs multiple times. The first poke had Joel arching away from Tommy, the next few had Joel’s glare growing. A low rumble of an amused sound followed from Tommy who got comfortable beside Joel again. “I don’t see the problem here big brother. You saved a girl from getting hurt. You walked her home. You kissed and the two of you…cuddled? If something more comes of it? Good. If nothing comes from it? Then whatever. But I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”

“I’ve worked really hard to keep myself from getting close to anyone,” Joel reminded Tommy with a frown, reaching up to shakily brush his fingers through his hair. A smirk tugged at Tommy’s lips with how that caused Joel’s hair to become messier than it already was. “Good things never happen when I get close to people.”

“Maybe that’s just bullshit that you’ve tried to convince yourself,” Tommy thought aloud, tapping his hands on top of the bar hearing movement behind them. The bar was still closed until tonight so there should have been no one in there. A relieved breath escaped Tommy when he saw it was just one of their employees coming in to clean up. “Maybe you’re not bad luck. You just haven’t found the right people. Maybe things are starting to look up for you.”

Joel went quiet. It was hard to really think that was the case after everything he had gone through in his life. Good luck was not something he had often. But would it really be good developing feelings for a woman he hardly knew? A woman that lived across the country from him? That didn’t sound like good luck. That sounded complicated. And he wasn’t sure that he was ready for more complications in his life.

Since he had moved to Jackson, he had been able to shut himself off from the world. In this small town, he only had to deal with the people that lived here and the guests that came to stay in their inn. Even at that though, Tommy and Maria were the ones that dealt mostly with the guests. It was rare that he did. Joel just did a lot of the other things around the inn. Now having this girl come swooping into his life having him acting in ways he hadn’t in a very long time scared him.

“I’m sorry I missed doing that thing today,” Joel apologized realizing that this whole time had been spent on talking about Y/N when he had plans to do something with Tommy originally. “I should have set an alarm. I hope you had fun.”

“Oh, we didn’t go yet. We are actually planning on leaving in like an hour or two,” Tommy alerted Joel, looking to his wrist to check the time. “Something happened this morning that was kinda big. We decided to push it back a couple of hours. So you can still go. Which reminds me, I have to go do a few things. Meet you in a few? You won’t go disappearing on me again now, will you?”

“Tommy,” Joel scoffed, reaching for his coffee again. With a smirk, Tommy got up from his seat. Reaching out to pat Joel on the shoulder, Tommy gave his brother a wink and then walked away leaving Joel to himself sitting at the bar.

Once he was alone, Joel started thinking about things more so in depth. Even though he hated to admit it, he really did enjoy kissing Y/N last night. Ever since he left her hotel room, all he could think about was her. The way it felt to kiss her. How right it felt to wake up with her in his arms this morning. It had been a long time since Joel had allowed himself to relax to that level with someone.

Finishing up his coffee, Joel got up and paced for a while. Truthfully he didn’t know where to go from here. Would he avoid Y/N? Would he try to talk to her? What could he do? She was a guest in the inn that he owned. There would really be no avoiding her. This was a small town. At some point they would run into each other whether he wanted them to or not.

But? Honestly? He didn’t want to avoid her.

Heading to the restaurant, Joel grabbed a couple of things and then headed back into the lobby. Sitting down on the bottom step of the large staircase in the lobby Joel waited. And surprisingly he didn’t have to wait long. Hearing the sound of movement, Joel looked over his shoulder to see that moving down the stairs groggily was Y/N. Rubbing at her eyes, she stopped at the split section of the stairs to yawn. The way she stretched out her body caused Joel to smirk. Fuck. He needed to stop doing that. It was almost an involuntary action. Why was just looking at this girl making him want to smile?

Standing up from the bottom step, Joel turned on his heel and waited for her to make it down the stairs. Once her tired eyes fluttered to an open, he shifted on his feet nervously when their eyes connected. Lifting her hand up to give Joel a slight wave elicited him to give her a small nod in response. Unhurriedly she moved down the steps and when she made it to the final one, she stopped to stare out at him.

“Hi,” Joel spoke quietly, not sure of what to say while he stood before her. Truthfully? He probably looked awkward just staring out at her like he was.

“Hi,” she repeated with a weak smile.

Suddenly there was silence between the two of them when he lifted his hands, “These are for you.”

“For me?” she stammered, a bit of color flooding into her cheeks at the idea of it when Joel lowered them down. Nodding again, Joel found himself tipping his head from side to side.

“Follow me?” Joel requested motioning her to get off the stairs. After she did, he led her around the large staircase and beyond the Christmas tree toward the sitting area in the back. Since it was midday and most people were off doing something else there weren’t many people there. That meant the sitting area was left open for them to be alone. Allowing her to take a seat by the fire, he heard her groan when she buried her head into her hands. “Here, it’s a latte to help with the fatigue and I got you some oatmeal.”

“Oatmeal?” she lifted her head, her eyes narrowing questioning his reasoning.

“Yeah, it’s uh…it’s got some honey and some fruit in it. It’s supposed to help with the hangover. I figured you mighta had one,” Joel commented handing her over the two things he had gotten her from the restaurant in the inn. Setting the bag that he gave her on the table near them, she was quick to take a sip of the latte first. “You’re really gonna want to eat that oatmeal. Take it from someone who is probably the king of hangovers. It’s gonna help you.”

Watching her closely, Joel lowered down into his seat and got comfortable. There was some silence between the two of them and he cleared his throat, “So how is Doctor Love doing this morning?”

“Excuse me?” she responded, her brow line creasing when she started digging into the bag for the cup of oatmeal that he had gotten for her. Setting it down on the table, she pulled out the plastic spoon and her head tipped to the side.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember the things you said last night after drinking as much as you did…” Joel began wondering if he should really say this considering how drunk she was, but he wanted to poke at her just a little bit. “But I’m pretty sure around town you are going to be known as the doctor who gives amazing blowjobs. The one who can make someone experience the biggest orgasms because she was trained to know the human body.”

A loud, coughing sound escaped her lips with her eyes growing big, “No! Come on! I didn’t say that. Please tell me I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, yes you did,” Joel declared with a steady nod provoking the color to flood into her face with embarrassment. “You really stressed very loudly at the bar just how good at giving a blowjob you really were. And people at the bar did hear you.”

“Great,” she groaned out loud getting the first hearty, deep laugh to fall from Joel’s lips. Pinching at the bridge of her nose, she didn’t know how to respond to that. “Please tell me you’re pulling my chain. I didn’t say that.”

“Oh no, you said that. Then you talked about being able to edge someone until they have the most explosive orgasm,” Joel continued, snorting when she reached out to hit him at the center of the chest since he was so amused with her drunk antics. Falling back against the chair, he lifted his arms to block her with laughter continuing to escape him. Dropping her head back, she muttered something under her breath and then reached for her coffee again. Embarrassment was flooding her body and he found it cute. “I think the town is gonna start to know you. And you’ll probably get some of the weirder folks here coming to try to interact with you.”

“Wonderful. That’s exactly what I want to be known for,” she rolled her eyes, not exactly surprised that she did that, but disappointed in herself. “I’m so sorry you had to put up with me last night. I can only imagine how miserable I made you.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I found some of it amusing,” Joel suggested, dropping his hands back down to caress at his knees. Now that he looked back on things, he did find it funny whereas last night he was panicked she would get hurt. “So you don’t remember last night, huh?”

“Like what?” she started to poke at the oatmeal he had gotten her. When she started to eat it, Joel took a look around to make sure that they were alone. Clearing his throat, he slid in closer to her and rest his elbows against his knees. Noticing him near her, she swallowed loudly. “Why? What else did I do?”

“So you don’t remember me walking you home or anything like that?” Joel wondered, deep down wishing that she did. And that surprised him. Taking a moment to think about what he was asking her, she shrugged slightly and took another bite of the oatmeal. “Like nothing about last night rings a bell?”

“Is there something that I should be remembering?” she questioned, her right eyebrow arching in a moment of curiosity. Disappointment seemed to flood Joel’s features with his breathing growing uneven. Leaning back against the chair, he kicked his feet at the floor trying to distract himself. “Joel?”

“No, nothing important,” Joel waved his hand in the air dismissively. If she didn’t remember what happened, then there was no reason for him to bring it up. In its own way, that just made it easier for him to deal with what happened last night.

They both remained quiet until she set the oatmeal down on the table. Sliding in closer to Joel, she wiggled her finger motioning him closer. Thinking that she wanted to whisper something to him, Joel pulled himself to the edge of the chair. Reaching out, her hand palmed in over the side of Joel’s face having his eyes flutter to a tight close. Lazily she dragged her fingers down over his chiseled jawline toward his chin. Tipping his head back, she leaned in to bring their lips together in the softest of kisses. It had a breath catching in his throat and when she pulled back, his eyes unhurriedly opened back up.

“Yes, I remember last night,” she confessed, a wicked smile tugging at her lips showing him that she was just playing with him. His heart was hammering. He really believed her when she was acting like she didn’t remember what the two of them did. “And I don’t regret a minute of it.”

“Really?” Joel’s long eyelashes fluttered, his brown eyes searching hers. As if he was trying to figure out if she was lying to him or not. Right now his breathing was labored and he was fixed on her.

“Really,” she snickered, sliding in again. This time Joel met her halfway with their lips colliding together in a fiery kiss. The first one was very sweet, but this one showed that the both of them still had last night on their minds. Most of the time Joel would have been uncomfortable showing this kind of affection in public, but right now? All he saw was her. Caress after caress of her lips over his felt amazing and he didn’t want to stop. Breathlessly she pulled back slightly to offer up a weak smile. “Thank you for taking care of me last night when I was making a fool of myself.”

With a slow nod of his head, Joel’s hand shakily reached up to drag his thumb across her bottom lip, “although, I do have to admit to you everything gets a little fuzzy after we sat down by the fire. I have memories here and there. But I don’t know how we ended up in my bed. Which I did wake up a few times, but I didn’t have the energy to get up.”

“Well, you crawled up into my lap,” Joel leaned back against the chair still tasting the fruitiness that was left over his lips from her kiss after she had been eating the oatmeal. “We were kissing and then you wanted to give me one of your amazing blowjobs. But? That ended with your head falling into my lap with you passing out.”

“Oh God,” she bit down at her bottom lip, lowering her head down in shame. Snorting at her embarrassment Joel knew that this was not good with how this woman made him feel. “I am so sorry.”

“I’m not,” Joel confessed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Even though this went against everything that he was, Joel was smitten with her. “I didn’t think you were capable of making those kind of decisions with how drunk you were. I felt bad for even letting it get as far as we did. So I carried you back into your room, got you ready for bed and you asked me to stay with you.”

“And you did?” she stammered getting Joel to nod again. Joel’s fingertips were nervously stroking over the material over the arms of the chair. It was something that she easily picked up on but didn’t call him out on it. “Thank you. It was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time.”

“The alcohol probably helped,” Joel noted, a weak smile pressing in over his handsome features when she finished off the oatmeal that he had gotten for her. “Although, I reckon I made the biggest fool outta myself this morning when I talked to Tommy about it.”

“You told Tommy?” she was surprised to hear that, gazing around and looking for Tommy.

“Well, he kinda found me sneaking out of your room this morning. Well, afternoon. I was supposed to meet him at nine this morning to do this thing with him,” Joel rambled feeling like maybe he was talking too much. Really, he talked more today than he probably had talked in months. “He thought we slept together, so I had to explain. And I found out that what we kissed under last night wasn’t mistletoe. It was holly. That old woman had no idea what she was talking about.”

Amusement flooded her features triggering his heart to skip a beat at the sight. How did this woman go from driving him crazy to taking his breath away in less than a day? Something about that didn’t feel right, but he didn’t care.

“To be fair,” she sucked in a sharp breath of air, straightening up her posture. Releasing a tiny laugh and shrugging her shoulders had Joel’s gazed locked upon her. “Both of us were very drunk. And while I may be a doctor, I don’t know Christmas plants.”

“Neither do I apparently,” Joel mused, his hand outstretching just enough to have the backs of his fingers brush against hers. “You don’t feel weird about things?”

“Weird about what?” she replied, hooking her fingers somewhat with his. Just having her do that had his heartrate growing faster.

“Us,” Joel spoke up, his mind still spiraling with all of the what ifs in this situation.

“You are the first thing I haven’t regretted since leaving that hospital,” she assured him which made him feel better to hear, but how could two people who barely knew each other have a connection like this? Especially since they started off not being extremely fond of one another.

“Hey! There the two of you are,” a voice called out to them, drawing Joel to scoot back in the chair pulling his fingers from hers. Kneeling down between the two of them, they were met with the familiar smile of Tommy. “I was thinking Y/N, since you’re new here and you haven’t really gotten the chance to have someone take you around…Joel and I were going to join a few of our friends to go snowmobiling around the local park today. It gets really pretty during the winter and I think you’d really like it. What do you think?”

“Tommy?” Joel said his brother’s name, sliding forward in the seat. That was something he wished that Tommy would have spoken to him about first.

“Maria was supposed to come with us today, but something came up so she had to cancel. I already loaded her snowmobile onto the truck so if she wants to come, I’d love to bring her,” Tommy finished up with his thoughts, giving Y/N back the attention. Noticing the discomfort in Joel’s body, she didn’t know how to respond to Tommy. Did the way that he was reacting mean that he didn’t want her there? “So what do you say?”

“What happened with Maria?” Joel remembered just speaking to Maria, so he knew that she wasn’t sick or anything.

“Oh, something just came up here,” Tommy explained, waving his hand about like it was no big deal. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want me to figure things out here so she can go with you?” Joel pressed further, not wanting his brother to miss out on something that him and Maria had planned for months.

“No, she’s got this. Trust me. No one would be able to handle it better than her, big brother,” Tommy dismissed Joel’s thoughts and turned back to Y/N. “If you want to come, I can actually send you to Maria. She can hook you up with something to wear so that way you aren’t cold. I think you won’t regret coming along. Our friend that’s taking us actually runs these snowmobile tours.”

“Yeah, sure. I guess that would be cool,” she agreed to go with them. Her answer seemed to make Tommy very happy, but Joel on the other hand was nervous. Standing up from the chair, she reached for her coffee and let out a tight breath. “Where should I go see her?”

“She’s right at registration waiting for you. I told her what I was planning so when you head over there she will take you with her,” Tommy pointed in the other direction where Maria was. Waiting until Y/N left, Tommy made sure that they were alone when he turned to Joel again who was glaring at him. “What?”

“The hell you doin’ Tommy?” Joel snarled, his nose wrinkling in distaste for whatever Tommy had up his sleeve. There was no question in his mind that Tommy was attempting to hook him up with this women and got Maria to join him in it.

“I’m just making things a little easier. It doesn’t hurt to do things with this woman so you two can spend more time together and see where this goes,” Tommy elaborated on his plan resulting in an eye roll from Joel whose body language changed completely when he heard what Tommy was doing. “Let’s show her that Jackson is a very beautiful place. Especially during the winter. You’ll get to spend some time with her. See if you still feel the way about her that you did when you were drunk. It doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re lovin’ this,” Joel acknowledged realizing that his brother was way too happy about this whole situation. And he wasn’t exactly sure why Tommy was so interested in pushing the two of them closer together. “Why?”

“Why not?” Tommy threw his hands up in the air, circling a bit as he started back stepping toward the front of the inn. “How about we go get ready for this thing? Make sure we have everything and see where it takes us?”

Shaking his head, Joel knew that he didn’t have much of a choice in this. Tommy already put the wheels in motion and he was going to have to play along and see where this whole thing went.

----

Standing in the middle of an open field at the nearest national park had Y/N in an absolute awe. For some reason, when she agreed to do this whole thing with Tommy and Joel, she imagined the car ride over here would be incredibly uncomfortable. But honestly? It wasn’t. It was a seven minute drive where she sat in the backseat of the truck with Joel. Sure, they were both quiet and didn’t say a word, but it would have been awkward talking around Tommy and his friend she had only just met in the lobby of the inn for a few minutes.

Now, as the boys and their friends prepared the snowmobiles, she couldn’t help but stand in the middle of the large plot of land staring out at everything surrounding her. There were mountains in New York that she had seen before traveling out, but nothing like this. This was stunning. All of the treetops were covered in snow. And the mountain range in the distance was like that out of a painting. It took her breath away.

The only thing that was bad about this whole thing was what you had to wear in order to do this. You had to wear a certain kind of clothes called under layers that were made from a certain material so you stayed warm but didn’t sweat. Then, you had to put on your snowmobile suits. And the worst part about that? A loud swooshing sound would fill the air every time you moved. It honestly reminded her of when she was a child wanting to go out and play in the snow. How her mother would dress her up in a snowsuit where she could barely move. This felt almost exactly like the same thing. Along with all of this you had to wear a face mask, a helmet, goggles, gloves, good socks and boots. With how many layers she had on, she wondered if she would even be able to steer the damn thing.

“How’s it goin’?” Joel’s southern drawl pulled her attention back to him when he approached her. The loud swishing sound elicited a smile from her with every step he made toward her.

“I feel like the abominable snowman,” she announced, throwing her hands up in the air. Wiggling a bit had Joel tipping his head to the side, his eyes narrowing while she clearly was having fun at the idea of what she was dressed in. “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to so many layers.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Tommy interrupted before Joel could respond. Unlike Joel, this woman seemed to have a lot of energy and Tommy was eager to push the two of them closer together. Maybe she would be good for Joel. And that’s all he kept thinking. “We’re gonna be out there for a while. It’s cold as hell out there. You don’t want to freeze and you don’t want to get hurt. So it’s all about protection and safety. Us Texas boys weren’t used to these temperatures when we came up here. We came from a place that when even a little snow fell, the whole town shut down. Now being here? Well, it can be a constant snowstorm and somehow the town still finds a way to keep runnin’.”

“Are you warm enough?” Joel stammered, pointing his finger from top to bottom with what she was wearing.

“Oh yeah, I’m great,” she insisted with a long pause, her head tipping from side to side. Considering how much snow they were surrounded by? She actually was surprised just how warm her body was. “Well, except for my nose. That’s freezing. But everything else? I’m great!”

“That’s easy to fix,” Joel insisted walking to her and she wondered how he managed to still look good in these suits. Because for her? She felt like she looked like she waddled in these things. Biting at his glove Joel managed to get one of them off before reaching for the other. Extending his hands out, he hooked his fingers into her facemask to pull it up over her mouth and over her nose. “That’s how it’s supposed to be. It’ll keep you warmer.”

A breath caught in her throat with the way that Joel stroked at the sides of her face, almost cupping her face in his grasp. Giving her a wink, Joel worked his gloves back on and in that moment he realized that both Y/N and Tommy were frozen staring out at him.

“What’s with the staring Tommy?” Joel snorted, shaking his head about. Immediately Tommy shook his head and threw his hands up like nothing was going on. But deep down Tommy was actually impressed with the way that his brother had helped her. Where Y/N was smitten, Tommy couldn’t believe he was seeing his brother taking care of someone like that. Motioning Y/N to follow him, Joel rubbed his hands together and then led her toward the snowmobile. “Y’know how to ride one of these?”

“Oh, yeah…of course I do,” she lied gazing upon the snowmobile realizing that she should have considered what they were actually doing. She’d never been on a snowmobile in her life. Most of her life was very sheltered. The only thing she had ever done in the winter was go on a sled. So for her, this was completely new.

“You have no idea do you?” Joel interrogated with her nodding showing that he was right. Grumbling under his breath, Joel waved her forward so he could show her. Sitting down on the one that she would be using, he made sure that she was looking. “You always gotta keep your feet safely in like this when you’re sitting. Make sure you’re comfortable. Relaxed. Don’t try to stop it with your feet. These things are heavy, if you fall wrong I reckon you’ll break something. When you’re turning, it’s like a bike. You turn the handles this way for left, this way for right.”

For some reason with Joel giving her instructions, she found herself lost in what he was saying. Suddenly everything felt like it was a foreign language but she nodded along because she didn’t want to embarrass herself. Trying hard to pay attention, she swallowed down realizing that this might have been her biting off more than she could chew.

“Now you sit,” Joel got up, helping her to get into position on the snowmobile. “The right is the gas. When you make your turns you’re gonna wanna lean into them, okay? It just helps on the sharper curves. On the left you have the break. It’s a whole lot easier than it seems. I promise you. You don’t have to worry.”

“Do I look scared?” she was curious, hearing Tommy laughing beside her. In all of that time she didn’t even realize that Tommy was still with them.

“You look mortified,” Tommy answered for Joel, nodding his head about. “Trust me, it’s not that hard. The first part is just a long stretch of land. Not too many turns. We just are gonna go out into the middle of the park. Get ourselves used to things and then some of the other things Joel told you will come into play.”

Maybe this would have been better if she had taken a whole day to learn how to do this instead of just a few minutes before their trip. That would have made it easier and made more sense. Even though she was uncomfortable, she went ahead with things. Joel insisted that he wanted to ride behind her just to make sure that she didn’t get left behind. And that made her nervous because she was afraid of making herself look like an idiot in front of him.

Watching others do it made it easier. None of them looked uncomfortable or worried. They just got on, put their face shields down and went. So she attempted to do the same. Of course it didn’t work as easily for her, but once she got started, it was actually pretty cool. Even though this was something she had no idea how to do, it was thrilling. The sights as they went were indescribable. Nothing like this was out in New York. This was the kind of thing she had only seen in paintings and photos. The snow over the mountains was slick giving it a bright shine with the sun hitting it just right. She wished she would have strapped a camera onto her because this would likely be a once in a lifetime experience. Everything about this was magical. For the first time since being to Jackson, she really did see the beauty that would draw people to something like this.

On their ride, she saw out toward the trees some of the animals that were roaming around the park. Never in her life had she seen a moose. Nor did she realize just how big they were. But today she saw a few of them. And while doing this she was starting to feel like a kid all over again.

When they came to a stop, she was worried that something was wrong, but the leader of their group wanted to show them something that he thought they would like. Leading them through a walkway, she was surprised to see that he brought them to a set of stairs. So much snow covered them that she knew someone would kill themselves if they tried to walk down it.

“What we are going to do is slide down,” Tommy repeated what the instructor told him. “If you look, other people have done this to the point that it’s created a slide all the way to the bottom. It’s easy. Just watch us and then you can do it. There is this really beautiful waterfall that looks great in the summertime, but in the winter it’s breathtaking.”

Stepping up to the stairs, she watched the first few of them sliding down laughing as they did it. Footsteps in the snow had her gazing beside her to see that Joel was lifting up his face guard, “You don’t have to go if you aren’t comfortable.”

“This isn’t too bad. If I can handle the plane ride here, I can handle this,” she assured him with a wink. But really? She wondered if she was trying to convince him of that or herself. Holding his hand out for her, Joel helped her lower down so that she was in position. Pushing herself off, she was surprised how easily she slid down the stairs. It reminded her of when she was a child going down a slide at the playground, but this one was much more interesting. Once she reached the bottom, Tommy was waiting for her, holding out his hand to help her up. “Thank you.”

A loud grunt filled the air behind her with Joel coming down. Smirking, Tommy carefully moved around her to help Joel up to his feet. Joel had more trouble getting up than she did, but by the time he did get up to his feet he gave the both of them a thumbs up.

Together the group walked in a line, one by one along the side of a path of water. Considering the walkway that was there, this was something a lot of people must have done previously. It was a longer walk than she expected and multiple times she had almost slipped. More than anything, she wanted to avoid embarrassing herself in front of Joel. After everything? She just wanted to look good for him.

When they approached the overlook for the waterfall, it had her stopping in her tracks. A sense of awe flooded her veins at the sight of the frozen over waterfall. Everything looked like that out of a movie. Everything was frozen over except for a small amount of water that was still flowing. They area they were in was the true definition of a winter wonderland. The mountains surrounding them were covered in ice. The trees covered in snow. Where they were, it felt like they were surrounded. What she was feeling was amazement.

“Not so bad after all, huh?” Joel’s voice pressed in beside her with him flipping his helmet up once he stepped in beside her. “Maybe Jackson ain’t as bad as you thought.”

“This is incredible,” she confessed, following Joel further down toward the water. The way the trees surrounded her gave her the effect of what she thought it might be like to be inside of a snow globe. Large pieces of ice were shattered off into the water that was flowing slowly away from them. And if she wasn’t with someone who knew where they were going, she may have felt a sense of panic.

In the distance, she noticed that Joel was walking further down closer to the frozen waterfall. Everyone was up on the top level, but Joel was continuing down to the lower one. Taking her time, she was cautious in how she moved, not wanting to slip. Looking back over her shoulder, she made sure that they were alone as she approached Joel who was standing at the edge observing everything.

Outstretching her hand, she placed it between Joel’s shoulders. The sensation made him jump, but when he looked back at her she felt her heart rate quicken when he grew comfortable at the sight of her. Pulling off his helmet, Joel kept it in his arms and motioned her to do the same.

“This is a place I think you will want a photo at,” Joel urged her to pull out her phone. Which honestly? Getting it out took longer than she thought it would. Pushing the goggles up and away from her eyes, she tugged at the bottom of her mask to reveal her face. “Get into position.”

Waving her on, Joel was quick to take a photo of her with the frozen waterfall behind her. After handing her the phone back, Joel went to leave, but she was quick to reach for him, “Take a photo with me?”

“Together?” Joel seemed surprised to hear that request, but he tugged at his mask and pulled it down so she could get a picture of them together. Wrapping his arm loosely around her brought them close together so they could take a photo. After she shoved her phone back into her zipper pocket on her suit, Joel grumbled something under his breath before speaking up again. “I don’t typically take photos with the guests that are staying at the inn.”

“I’m going to guess you probably don’t go around kissing your customers either,” she slurred, stepping in closer to Joel.

Grabbing a loose hold of his suit made a swishing sound that had both of them cringing. It was loud and it was awful. But he allowed her to pull him close. Even if this was a bad place to do this, she couldn’t help but find this area romantic. Bringing their lips together in a faint kiss allowed her to realize just how cold they both were. The heat from their kiss was a vast contrast to the air around them.

“Where did you two run off to?” Tommy called out to them having Joel quickly backstepping away from her with a nervous sound. Pulling his mask back up had her releasing out a tremoring breath. It was too soon for Joel and she understood that.

Together the rest of them started to head back to their snowmobiles. For a while everything was fine. They followed the main path and saw a lot of beautiful areas that she thought were stunning. It was when they came to a narrow path that she realized things were getting a bit too tight for her. Considering she was new to this whole thing, having this tight of a curve made her uncomfortable. One wrong tug of the handles had her sliding down the hill into a snow pile.

Immediately, she regretted it. And she felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment flooding through her. Nothing was hurt, she just went into a snow pile. Looking back over her shoulder, she noticed that both Tommy and Joel were headed down to check on her. The first thing Tommy did was make sure that everything was turned off. Joel on the other hand? He was quick to check on her, making sure nothing was hurt or broken.

“I’m okay. Other than my pride being gone,” she promised Joel who helped her up from the snowmobile. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. It just got tight and this was my first…”

“Don’t apologize,” Tommy stressed, pointing back toward the area she had slid down from. “I can just pull the snowmobile up and drag it.”

“How about you drag it back and I’ll have her ride with me? I know things are gonna be a bit tight so I reckon I can make sure she doesn’t get hurt or anything,” Joel spoke to his brother, helping her up the side of the hill to his snowmobile. Getting her comfortable, Joel made sure that she would be okay before going over to help Tommy. When he came back, she felt tense that she fucked up, but also happy because it meant she got to cuddle up to Joel. After demanding having her wrap her arms around him, Joel had her swooning over him. This was his way of protecting her. And she liked it. It was hard to focus from that moment on.

By the time they got back to the truck, she tried helping them but Joel had taken her to the passenger’s seat, turned on the heat and motioned her to warm up. Part of her felt guilty while they finished working, but Joel wasn’t wrong in bringing her here. She was freezing and this was helping her. The people here were used to this kind of weather. She wasn’t. Everything was numb and the heat from the car did feel nice on her fingers.

On the drive back, Joel sat beside her rubbing her hands in his. Even though it didn’t do much to warm her up since he was cold too, she appreciated the gesture. Joel thought he was doing something nice and she wasn’t going to reject it. As they returned to town, Tommy had alerted them that they were going to meet up with Maria for dinner. It wasn’t even a case of Tommy inviting her, he just told her that she was coming with them.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a high-end place because she felt like she looked like a mess after taking her snow suit off. She would have preferred to go back to the hotel to clean up, but neither of the boys cleaned up. Joel’s hair was a mess after he took his suit off and she couldn’t help but laugh. It was cute and charming. Although, every time he looked to her, she tried to hide that she was laughing to avoid embarrassing him. When Joel pulled out her seat for her, she was impressed with his continued showing of chivalry. That was something she had not grown accustomed to living in New York. So Joel being like this was a pleasant surprise.

“I hope you don’t mind this place,” Tommy called out from across the table from where he was sitting beside Maria. Loud music was playing and it was visibly a sports bar that they were at. Everyone had already ordered and it was nice to just sit back after the day they had. “It’s just simple things like burgers and what not. But we like it here. The big man here loves him some burgers.”

“Yeah. That’s me. The burger man,” Joel snickered, accepting the beer that the waiter set on the table for him. Shaking his head, Joel rolled his eyes at his brother not sure if he was attempting to embarrass him or not. Y/N seemed to be staring at him from where she was seated beside Joel. “We just like things laid back in our family.”

“I’d actually prefer that,” she explained to them, kind of glad that they seemed to be in an area that they were closed off from the rest of the public for now. She had grown ill at ease when people would stare at her. But this time she wasn’t alone. So maybe people would mind their own business. “I would usually get some kind of carry out on the way home anyways. I would be tired and I’d usually eat alone.”

“So tell us some more about yourself,” Maria leaned across the table, getting Y/N’s attention. Tapping her hands against the tabletop, Maria shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “All we really know about you is that you are a doctor from New York City.”

“Oh, that’s not really something that you want to hear,” she waved her hand about remembering what happened the last time that she tried to talk about herself. Joel had no interest then and she didn’t want to bore him now. Joel’s brown eyes were locked on her as he took a long swig of his beer. “Joel really doesn’t like hearing those kind of things.”

A cough escaped Joel when he choked on his beer and dropped the beer bottle down with a clanking sound. Catching the bottle before it fell, Joel was quick to shake his head and clear his throat, “I don’t mind. They are the ones that are asking.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” she wasn’t quite sure where to start noticing the way that Tommy wrapped his arm around the back of Maria’s chair.

“How about what made you want to be a doctor?” Tommy threw something out there, waving his free hand about. “That seems like it would be a stressful job to have. Especially in New York City. Did you always want to be a doctor?”

“No, I didn’t want to be a doctor when I was a child,” she took a moment to consider what she would tell them, feeling uneasy with all of their eyes on her. Each of them were listening closely and she didn’t know how honest she should be. “I think I wanted to be like an astronaut or an archeologist when I was young. I wanted to discover new things.”

“And you decided that you could discover new things in healthcare?” Maria tried to put two and two together, but it had Y/N shaking her head. “How did you fall into it then? That’s a bit different than the two jobs you mentioned.”

“How sad do you want this to get?” she muttered, stroking her fingers down the glass of water that was before her. Tommy shifted in his seat and she shook her head. “I don’t want to depress anyone about my life.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Tommy noted, his eyebrow arching in curiosity. Looking to Joel, she took notice of the fact that he was quiet, but still listening to her.

“I became a doctor because when I was young, both of my parents died,” she alerted them, lowering her head so she didn’t have to look at any of them when she admitted to them why she became a doctor. “My parents were in a car accident. It was snowing, it was around Christmas. My dad was driving and my mom was in the passenger seat. I was in the back. There was a truck on the road that had been driving too long. A man that was just trying to get home to his family. He fell asleep at the wheel. His truck was headed right at us. Which had my dad swerving, he hit some ice and the car crashed at the side of the road. It had flipped. The car behind us had also hit that ice after swerving. It went off the road too. And hit my dad’s side of the car. My dad was killed instantly, my mom they thought was fine. We were taken to the hospital where doctors were distracted with the holidays. They thought my mother was okay because she was interacting with people, but she was bleeding on the inside. So for hours we sat and my mom died because the doctors there were lazy and didn’t bother to check to see if something was wrong. So? After that, I decided that I was going to be a doctor because I wanted to make sure that if someone was ever in the position that I was in, they would have a doctor that would fight for them. Do everything to save their loved one.”

“Jesus,” Joel breathed out in a faint slur. Everyone at the table was quiet with how negative that actually was. It seemed like none of them had any idea what they should say. And she expected that. She just went full trauma dump on them and she realized she should have just been straight forward and to the point instead of going into details.

“What happened after that though?” Tommy finally broke the silence, his dark eyes narrowing when he leaned forward at the table. “Did the hospital get in trouble? Did you have any family members to go to? Any siblings?”

“Guys, I can already see the look on your faces,” she half laughed trying to make things less uncomfortable with her shifting her seat beside Joel. Right now, she felt like she was about to depress all of them, especially if she continued to be honest. “I don’t want to mortify you with the depressing details of the rest of my life.”

“No, go ahead. We’re here to listen,” Maria suggested, outstretching her hand to place it in over Y/N’s to show support for her. Now it kind of felt like they wanted to hear the rest of the story because they didn’t want to make her feel awkward or embarrassed with sharing too much. But she knew that she had. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too. Either way, we are okay with whatever you want to talk about.”

“Uhm, well. I had no siblings. It was just me. I had two living family members. My grandmother and my uncle. Who were both on my mom’s side. Uhm, my grandmother sued the hospital and the truck company. And she won both cases. Put the money aside for me since I was a child that was left on my own. I wasn’t able to touch it until I was eighteen years old,” she explained to them, her voice broken and tremoring as she spoke. Right now she was doing her best to answer Tommy’s question. The last thing she wanted to do was get emotional in front of all of them so she was fighting it incredibly hard. “My uncle was a famous script writer in New York for films and plays. And my grandmother was living with him in a brownstone in New York City. So I moved there with them. My grandmother died a year or two later. And I was left with my uncle who was not my biggest fan but kept me because my grandmother made him promise. He was really close to my mom and he blamed me for my parents dying. So for the remainder of my teenage years, I was only allowed to be on the second floor and use the kitchen to make my food. I took care of myself. I never spoke to my uncle other than a comment here or there. I got into the school I wanted, left, my uncle died and didn’t write a will because he didn’t expect to die. So I ended up with the brownstone and his money which I firmly believe would have him turning in his grave because he hated my guts. So that’s also the reason that I have as much money as I do.”

Looking between them, she could see that all of them were mortified with what she had told them and it was so quiet between them that you could hear a pin drop. Reaching for the beer that Tommy had gotten her, she took a long sip of it and then shrugged her shoulders, “I told you it was depressing. Sorry. I probably should have just told you my parents died and I wanted to be a doctor that helped saved people like my parents. That’s my problem. I think I overshare too much.”

“Why did your uncle blame you?” Tommy was the first to speak up, his head shaking from side to side. They were all lost for words with her story, but Tommy was more emotional than the others. Locked on that one thing she said about her uncle. “You were just a kid.”

“Because we were headed home from a family holiday party where I had left my stuffed animal on accident. I was upset and wanted them to go back to get it. They called my family to tell them to keep it aside for me…” she set the bottle down beside the water that she had gotten, doing her best to keep it together. “So it was my fault. If they wouldn’t have turned around to get that stuffed animal, both my parents would still be alive.”

“That’s bullshit,” Joel grunted, his brow line creasing when she finally looked to him. Mostly she had been looking between Maria and Tommy, but he had to speak up. “You were just a child. You were innocent in all of that. Being angry with a child for something that wasn’t their fault is crazy.”

“Honey, I agree with Joel,” Maria stressed to Y/N, her hand squeezing in over the hand that she had been holding onto the whole time. “There was no way that was your fault. That was an accident. There was no way of knowing that was going to happen. What your uncle did was wrong. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I mean, he wasn’t wrong. If I would have just had them wait until another day they would still be here,” she reasoned, the lump in her throat growing realizing that none of them were agreeing with her statement. Tommy was shaking his head repeatedly hinting to her that he didn’t agree with that either. “I just made do with what I had. I never gave up the brownstone because it was the last place that my parents were at. I guess that doesn’t really make sense though because it’s so big and it’s just me living there. Which is kind of…well, it’s really lonely.”

“And that’s why you ended up here? Because you were lonely?” Tommy wondered, sliding his chair closer to the table showing her that she had his full attention.

“I was just fed up with life. I was recently dumped by my boyfriend not long ago. He was cheating on me with someone more powerful at the hospital and he blamed me. I really don’t have many friends other than those I work with because I work all the time. I guess the deciding factor was losing a patient. I promised their child that I would do the best I could with them and they died. No matter how hard I tried to save them,” she was honest, shrugging her shoulders when Joel finished off the beer that he was drinking and forced himself to look away from her. “I was a little fed up with life. I was lonely. And I was looking for something to prove to myself that life was worth living. For a reason to still be here.”

Hearing that made Joel swallow down hard. He knew that kind of talk. It was what he had suspected back at the bar when she was talking. She was questioning whether she still wanted to be here or not. And the very thought had his chest aching. Because he had also been there himself.

“Can I hug you?” Tommy got up from the table moving around it, not really even giving her the option when he wrapped her up in his arms after leaning down. “I am so sorry you went through all of that. But none of it was your fault.”

“Tommy,” Joel muttered his brother’s name considering in that moment that she might have not been comfortable with Tommy hugging her like he was. An overwhelming sense of guilt ate away at him. When she was talking about her life to him in the past, Joel just assumed she was just some snobby rich girl that had been pampered her whole life. That she became a doctor just to look good. And hearing what it really was about made him come to terms with the fact that he was an asshole for shutting her down like he did and treating her like shit. “You might be suffocating her.”

Grunting, Tommy moved around the table after letting her go and went back to his seat. Maria looked deep in thought, her hand never leaving Y/N’s, “Is there a Christmas memory that you have that makes you happy? Something with your parents?”

“I mean,” she thought for a long moment, trying to consider something that was positive for them to hear. “When I was younger my parents loved going to the Rockefeller tree. During Christmas time whenever I feel overwhelmed or just sad, I like to go there. It usually lifts my spirits. That’s my favorite place to go in the city during Christmas time. I like to just sit at the tree and observe things.”

“That tree does look really cool,” Tommy was quick to bring a positive outlook to things. “I can see why you like it so much. I think I would be drawn to it too.”

Glaring up at Tommy, Joel stayed silent. Right now Y/N felt awkward and he could pick up on it by her body language. The last thing she really probably wanted to be talking about was positive Christmas memories when her family died near Christmas. What she had just confessed to them was a lot to unpack and he now understood why she was kind of the way that she was. He just hoped that eventually they could get her focusing on something else so the tragedies of her past didn’t continue to eat away at her all night.

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #The Last of Us #Pedro Pascal #Tommy Miller #The Last of Us fanfiction #Joel Miller Imagine #Pedro Pascal Characters fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #Christmas #Christmas in Jackson

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welcometothejianghu · 2 months ago

Text

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 致命游戏 / The Spirealm.

The Spirealm is a 2024 drama about two young men who fall in love while basically playing a whole bunch of horror-themed escape rooms that can for-real kill you.

This show/book combo has gripped my entire ass. The second I knew I wanted to watch this, almost immediately after it started airing, I muted the tag. I was so right to do this, because this is worth not spoiling yourself about. If you are a Guardian fan in particular, you owe it to yourself to watch this for reasons I think will become clear as you go about watching it.

So! If all you need to know is that I think you need this show in your life, great! You don't even need to scroll down to the end of the post for the links; go to Viki and press play. In case you need more convincing than that, though, I'm going to give you here five reasons to watch it that are as spoilerless as I can make them.

Before we start, though, I'm going to take a moment to note that I had to torrent the video files so I could make screenshots of my own, and if I hadn't, this would have been a much uglier rec post than the others I've done. Not only were there not many promotional materials or official stills released, the show itself barely stayed up two hours on iQiyi, and that's because this drama is a...

1. (Barely) Censored Adaptation Of Same-sex Original Work

Ah, you know that MyDramaList tag well, don't you? Yeah, the original novel, Kaleidoscope of Death (which has a rec post of its own!), is supernatural story about grief and loss built on the love story between the two male leads. Now of course you know already that a mainstream Chinese television adaptation of something like that is going to straighten up everything and turn the horror romance into the sci-fi platonic love of besties.

...But damn, folks, it's still real gay.

Ling Jiushi, the sweet-faced newbie, is a canonical virgin and loving cat dad who plays the mysterious video game once, then finds himself suddenly able to enter the game worlds bodily -- and of course, if you die in the game, you die in real life. He's pretty much doomed, until he meets...

Ruan Lanzhu, the cool-as-a-cucumber veteran of the door worlds, who falls pretty much immediately for the completely oblivious Ling Jiushi, then has to spend the rest of the series consumed with lust while trying to keep him and a couple other dipshits alive.

The show preserves so many overtly gay beats and declarations of affection from the novel, to the point where it's just this side of suggesting that the romance is actually, textually happening just offscreen, every time the camera cuts away. I am forever grateful that working with Zhu Yilong on Reunion seems to have perfected sweet baby Junjie's ability to look at a man with nothing but love in his eyes.

I adore so much the dynamic they have, one where a man who has never told the truth a day in his life encounters a man so sincere and naive that you cannot seduce him with anything but absolute honesty or he's never going to get it.

There are three (3) separate door worlds where they share a bed, and in every one of them, they both sleep with their shoes on. Like the absolute freaks they both are.

2. It's puzzle solvin' time!

So if you've read some of my rec posts before, you know that I am critical of stories that center around cases that are unfollowable, uninteresting, or both (e.g., Mysterious Lotus Casebook and White Cat Legend). I am therefore thrilled to tell you that the door worlds are actually (largely) thoughtful mysteries with reasonable solutions, where you care about what's happening and why.

The way each door world is set up is that you have to solve the puzzle to find a key and unlock the door that will let you leave. One of the challenges is each world's door ghost, who has the key and does not want to give it up. The other challenge is the world-specific set of taboo conditions, where violating them means the door ghost can kill you -- and you are not always told what those taboo conditions are. That means that solving a door involves 1) figuring out what will insta-kill you, 2) not doing that, 3) finding where the hell the exit door is, 4) placating and/or scamming the door ghost long enough to snatch the key from them, and 5) running like hell to the exit door with that key before the door ghost fucks you up about it.

As the show goes on, you get introduced to the concept of door-passing shepherds, which are experienced door-finishers who take through lower-level players, building them up in the process. A lot of these shepherds work for organizations, such as the one Ruan Lanzhu runs. And a lot of them are ready to reach the exit by climbing over everyone else's corpses.

That's part of the fun of the setup: You're not just thrown in alone. You show up with a random number of other players, some with very different levels of experience. At least one of you will make it out; not everyone will. So you can add a step 6) to the list above, which is: surviving all the other players who will gleefully stab you in the back in order to be the first player out the door.

The door worlds are also lovely. They all feel like sets -- and I know that's a weird thing to say about places that are literal sets, but they manage it feel it even on film. In fact, even the show's uses of clunky-ass greenscreen feel appropriate, because of how unreal everything is supposed to be. Everything looks like a dream, which is only amplified by how beautifully everything's shot.

(What's that you say? You say the guy who directed this was the editor on Infernal Affairs? No kidding.)

From a fandom perspective, what's great here is that even though there are technically just twelve doors, there are canonically way more than twelve door worlds out there. That means that whatever worlds you want to create are valid. The best pieces of fanfic I've read are the ones that dream up their own door worlds, complete with taboo conditions, key puzzles, and world-specific perks that lead to gay sex, because come on.

3. A good middle ground of horror

So at this point you are perhaps wondering: How scary is it?

And the answer is, kind of as scary as you're willing to let your mind go with it. Everything has been science-fictioned real hard, including the video game premise that "explains" what's happening with these doors. It relies on dread way more than jumpscares. The blood/gore/gross content is extremely low, again on account of Chinese content censorship. Most icky things are done with offscreen sounds and shadows. I'm pretty squeamish about pain and injury, and I can't recall a time I had to look too long away from the screen.

However, that means the show works some real conceptual horror. That picture up there is of a man forcing three young girls to hold raw eggs unbroken in their mouths. There's nothing about that image that's not technically G-rated, and it's awful in context.

The best bits are when the monsters don't need a lick of CG to become horrors. They cast a contortionist in the Waverly Hills door world, and she absolutely earned her keep.

I have a lot of critiques about how the show handles things, especially in terms of defanging the horror elements (which it does), but one thing I think it absolutely gets right is that it understands that ghost stories are first and foremost tragedies. That's a thing I've always liked about Asian horror in particular, how often you wind up siding with the ghost. Yes, sure, she tried to strangle you with her hair, but have you ever considered she's the real victim here? There's always a bit of a calculus: Can you negotiate with the door ghost, or do you just need to stab them and run? The Spirealm prefers negotiation, and frankly, so do I.

So yeah, it's about as scary as you let it be. If your horror tolerance is low, watch it in a well-lit room and focus on the unreality of it, and you'll be okay. If you're looking for something genuinely spooky, spend some time thinking about the existential dread of the entire situation, and that'll be good for a couple good spine tingles.

4. The Obsidian Family (& Friends!)

In a show where death is always an option, you have to have characters where you actually care if they live or die. Fortunately, all your allies are charming and loveable enough that you are going to be real upset every time they get put in danger!

Obsidian is one of the organizations I mentioned earlier. It's run by Ruan Lanzhu, and it includes a cool and collected doctor, a mom friend who cooks for everybody, a guy who's maybe not having the best mental health day of his life, and two identical twins who could not be more different if they tried. They all live in the same amazing big fancy house, which is where Ling Jiushi too goes to live when he joins the group. They have big family meals, they look after one another, they hang out together -- I mean, if this is the kind of setup you love, then you will love this setup.

There are also plenty of allies who aren't technically part of Obsidian, but who are our friends nonetheless, and who come over to hang out in the Obsidian house from time to time. Some of them are rivals turned friends, some of them are clients turned friends, and some of them were just friends all along! Surely nothing bad will happen to any of them, and they'll all live happily ever after, right? ...Right?

5. Toast and Chestnut!

Of course, the true heroes of the show are Toast the Corgi and Chestnut the Kitty.

Animals are so good.

Truly, I love that one of Ling Jiushi's defining characteristics is that he is a Cat Dad. He is a simple man with simple needs, and one of those needs is to pet his kitty or he'll explode.

caveat: Some thoroughly bad adaptation choices

Yeah, so I keep talking about the novel (and talk even more about the novel in its own rec post), but I assure you, you don't need to have read the novel to feel the degree to which this is an adaptation -- and one that's had its rough, nasty, spooky, gay edges all sanded off in the desperate hope of ever seeing daylight.

Now, sometimes I consider batshit nonsense janky creative decisions to be a selling point for a show (see: Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Legend of Fei, Sand Sea)! In this case, however, I'm going to have to take points off for how incoherently bad they are here. We're talking Psych-Hunter levels of Why Would You Do That-- and the answer, as always, comes down to how you write around what censorship won't allow on television.

The novel says the doors are supernatural. The show says they're a virtual-reality computer game. Now, on the surface, this move sort of makes sense -- you can't have ghosts, but you can have computer games that make digital ghosts, which, sure, okay. But then the problem quickly becomes that the plot of the novel is not remotely built to support a sci-fi premise, so a lot of things have to be grafted awkwardly on. Like, say, a bad guy who stole his corporate logo from Even Worse Twitter. Or a game-designing bestie whose face is never seen. Or [late-stage spoilers about a major character].

The eventual explanation is that this whole setup is a righteous and good game that has somehow been corrupted by evil game-designing capitalists from the West, and that's why it can abduct you in broad daylight and kill you if you fail it. There are good people who want to purify (???) the game, and evil people who want to make money off the game. And I don't mind spoiling you for that part, because it's garbage nonsense. You will be deeply unsatisfied with the show's half-assed attempt at resolving it all. (You may, however, have that disappointment tempered with the amazing concurrent display of heterosexuality that is apologizing to your best bro by coding his perfect man for him. The Spirealm is a land of contrasts.)

Look, I consider myself a mild to moderate socialist, and even I was yawning and making jerk-off motions every time someone started to wax halfheartedly poetic about how evil American capitalism is. Like, yeah, but not because some college student made a vile and wretched video game that eats people! This show is a critique of capitalism like a five-year-old crying because he doesn't get ice cream before bed is a critique of authoritarianism.

And even this, I can't be too mad at it about, you know? I just assume that this was some absolute Hail Mary attempt at getting past censorship -- you know, maybe if we make all the right "grr, USA bad!" noises, they'll let our gay ghost story slip by? And it worked! I mean, just barely, but it did.

So yeah, fair warning that the Spirealm is a show that, if you love it (and I do), you will have to love despite some glaring flaws that haunt it all the way through and hit especially hard during what should otherwise have been an amazing endgame. But hey, we're c-drama fans! We're good at loving janky things, right?

Want to enter the World of Doors?

As I said at the start of the post, Viki's got it -- and only Viki. I'm not sure what circumstances got it up on Viki after iQiyi pulled it, but I'm glad. Watch it quick, before Viki changes its mind!

Hug him! Hug that boy!

#the spirealm #致命游戏 #kaleidoscope of death #rec post #i made this

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

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Hiii so ik Halloween is coming up! So I wanna know if you could do another jack the reacher fic! (Love that man) Basically y/n spend every single day with your bf except for Halloween. Y/n has been with him for 2 years now and it’s kinda getting old. So ofc this year like always he tells y/n to stay away from him on Halloween. He’ll suggest visiting your parents or hanging with friends at party just something to keep her busy until his little spell is over. Though what y/n doesn’t know is every Halloween he turns into a werewolf, demon, orc…. (Anything you want! Your choice of monster!) He definitely doesn’t want his precious gf to see that! He just can’t control anything while he’s in that mode and he definitely doesn’t want to be near y/n while this happens. He doesn’t wanna hurt or. ….break her. Buttttt y/n doesn’t listen and goes to see him anyways, she acts like she’s leaving when in reality we stayed just to see what goes on. At first the speculation was cheating…ofc our loving bf wouldn’t do that to us right..?? So the reader sneakily finally finds out what her boyfriend is hiding and BOY IS SHE IN FOR QUITE THE RIDE! *I have a cnc kink and manhandling kink, and I would love for the reader to just be bratty in general! Cause as you can see we don’t listen! 🤭 He should definitely put reader in a full nelson….sigh me and my delusions

Ps. Can the reader be black! And plus size thank you!

General Note: I do not, have not, and will never write non-con.

Pairing: Werewolf!Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PWP, PIV, Cursing, SMUT, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, cum play, primal play, bratty reader, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: See Ask. With the exception of non-con. Halloween happened to be your favorite holiday and you wanted nothing more than to spend it with your sweet boyfriend, Reacher. However, Reacher had other plans that didn’t involve you. Upset with your plans ruined, you decided to disobey his strict order to stay at your parents’ house. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, you only knew that you wanted answers. Patience was never your strong suit.

AO3 Link

Word count: 5,847k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive!! LOL.I have no excuses for myself other than WHEW!!! This broke me. I need to go hose myself down. Happy Halloween-Eve everyone! Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Something was wrong with your boyfriend.

You eyed him as he grew more antsy during the week leading up to Halloween, only your favorite time of the year. You loved the costumes, the makeup, the scares, and thrills. It spoke to your soul in a way no other holiday did.

Similar to last year, Reacher grew more agitated. Little things pissed him off. When he wasn’t working a case for the Army’s Military Police, he walked around like a bear with a thorn in his paw.

He was never mean to you. Never snapped. Never treated you as anything other than his adorable girlfriend. Even now, on the actual holiday, he was putting together a bookshelf for you because your old one broke from all of the books you had.

You sat on the floor beside him, handing him different screws and allen wrenches whenever he asked. You loved days like these. Loved seeing him domesticated.

“I was thinking you might go with your parents again today,” Reacher said, unprompted.

You blinked your eyes at him and tilted your head. “For…Halloween? Again?” You asked.

“Yeah. You said you had fun last year so…” he said, letting the sentence dangle while he studied the instructions once more. He made it sound innocent, but your warning bells went off instantly.

Your mind trailed to the slutty nurse outfit in the back of your closet. You had…plans. You had an entire night planned of passing out candy to the kids until it got too late. Then you were going to take him to your room and give him some tender love and care.

All of that flew out of the window…again. Last year, he made the excuse that he was in the middle of an important case and wasn’t able to spend the holiday with you. You knew dating someone in the military would have its ups and downs but you figured that living close to the base meant that he’d be around more.

This year, however, you made sure that he hadn’t taken on any new cases. You gently steered him to take the time to rest. Not that the big brute knew the meaning of the word. He was like a machine, always moving forward. Never settling. You never wanted to dim his wanderlust but…didn’t you deserve to spend your favorite holiday with your boyfriend?

You could deal with everything else. You could deal with the missed nights, the long cases, the confidentiality. You trusted him. Yet…was he cheating? Was that it? Why this specific night?

“Reacher, I’d kind of like to spend the holiday with you. I had a few surprises planned actually,” you said.

Reacher looked up from screwing in a shelf and looked at you. He was always so severe. Mouth pressed into a thin line and eyebrows raised like he wasn’t in the mood for any lip talk. He smoothed out his eyebrows and his mouth drooped into a smirk.

“I’m sorry. I know how much this holiday means to you. I have something important to do,” he said.

“Like? Is there a reason I have to leave my own home for this?” You asked. He held out his hand for the next screw and you handed it to him. His palm was hot to the touch, hotter than normal.

You looked back at him and really looked him over this time. Your boyfriend always ran hot but he was scorching. He was sweating a bit too even though the temperature outside was below sixty and dropping by the hour.

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked. You leaned up onto your knees, letting your fluffy skirt settle around your thighs, as you placed the back of your hand to his forehead. You snatched your hand back with a hiss and rubbed it.

“You’re burning up! Do you need to go to the hospital?” You asked.

“I don’t get sick,” he said, his mouth lifting into a smirk.

You huffed. “Everyone gets sick, Reacher. Even you,” you said. Though, come to think of it…you’d never seen him so much as sneeze.

“I don’t get sick,” he said, leaning over to peck your lips. His lips were warm too but you welcomed the kiss and wished he’d ditch the bookshelf and come play with you. Ever the stickler for accomplishing his honey-do list, he leaned away from you and went back to assembling the bookcase.

“I’d feel better if you were with your parents where your father can look after you,” he said.

You sat back on your knees and huffed. “I don’t need a big strong man to look after me, Reacher,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to spend the best holiday of the year around your boring ass family.

Your father had also been in the military and his hard ass didn’t understand anything he couldn’t see. Trying to carve out time for spooky shenanigans in a cold house full of rules and expectations was hard enough growing up. You always felt like a toddler retreating to your parents’ house, where your larger than life father treated you like his baby girl.

And Reacher knew that. He stopped working and looked at you. “I just want you safe when I can’t look after you myself,” he said.

“Because…?” You asked. You needed a reason. He had to give you a valid reason. Because if this became an every year type of situation, you’d have to sit and talk with him about it. You didn’t ask for much. Reacher rarely denied you. So what was the problem?

Reacher smiled and wiped his brow. He could claim he wasn’t sick all he wanted but he sure looked like it. Since when he did he sweat like this, inside the house, wearing nothing but a black T-shirt and sweats?

“You know I can’t tell you,” he said.

You pouted and turned doe eyes on him. Reacher sighed and chuckled, looking away from you finally. “Please?” You asked. You scooted closer, sidling up to his big, thick body and placed your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Pretty please?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. You dialed up the cuteness, making your eyes as wide as they would go.

“It’s not going to work,” he said. But you already heard the resolve in his voice weaken. He tried to work with you on his shoulder but you rubbed your cheek against his bare arm. He sighed and pulled you into him, kissing your forehead.

“You know being a brat doesn’t work on me. Come on, help me put this up before it’s too late,” he said.

“Too late? Got a hot date somewhere?” You asked, leaning away from him. You were only half joking. You wouldn’t seriously be with someone if you thought they had the capacity to cheat. Reacher was loyal through and through, almost doggedly so.

“Smart ass. No. I want to get you to your parents before it gets too dark outside,” he said.

He was really adamant about that. You deflated, sinking onto the floor and handing him the next screw. Reacher glanced at you and sighed. “Please don’t hate me. I’m only looking out for you,” he said.

“I know, Reacher,” you said. You would just have to…make do. You’d leave the bowl of candy outside and let the kids take whatever they wanted. You could watch kids on the ring camera and scare them when they least expected. It wouldn’t be the same but at least you’d get to see some kind of excitement tonight. Too bad it wouldn’t be by riding your boyfriend until the morning light.

You continued to help him with the bookshelf but your heart was no longer in it. You handed him screw after screw, letting the whir of the fan be the only sound in the room.

Reacher thrived in silence so you didn’t expect him to fill it with useless conversation. Now you just felt stupid sitting in your costume. If he knew that he wanted you to go to your parents’ house, couldn’t he have said so before you dressed up?

Sure, you had hours to go before nightfall. Before the kids and adults began walking around the neighborhood in their cute, creative outfits and bags or bowls of candy. But…this sucked.

You pouted as he finished the bookshelf. You kissed him to thank him but swiftly retreated to your room to get ready. You already knew the drill. You removed your costume and threw on your own pair of joggers and one of Reacher’s shirts. It fit you like a dress but it was comfy and smelled like him.

Reacher got dressed in record time, damn near whistling now that you agreed to go to your parents’ house. You watched him move stiffly, like he was in pain but would never admit it. Things just weren't adding up. Your intuition was screaming at you, warning you that something wasn’t right here.

You watched him carefully as he continued to wipe his brow or sniffle. If he were sick, he would tell you, right? He swiftly locked up the house, practically kicking you out of the house. He opened the car door for you, ushered you inside, and then hopped into the truck himself.

You still eyed him as he flew through traffic, making it to your parents’ house in twenty minutes flat.

“You’re being weird,” you said when he parked in the driveway. Your parents’ house was in the middle of a cul-de-sac. The perfect environment for trick or treaters. Yet, this was the most geriatric neighborhood with only one young couple living at the end of the block and they didn’t have kids.

You’d be lucky if anyone stopped down this street tonight. It was usually dark, lacking decorations, and no one turned on their porch lights. It was the opposite of your place. This place was dull and void of anything resembling fun.

“I know. And I’m sorry,” he said. He reached out to take your hand, his hand burning to the touch. You held on anyway and turned to him. Turned to the man you were madly, wildly in love with.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” You asked.

“I promise nothing’s wrong. After tonight, I’ll work on a healthier work-life balance,” he said.

He kissed the back of your hand and you turned to his soft eyes. He still looked the same when he looked at you. Still radiated the same amount of love that was likely reflected in your own eyes. You were going to talk about this. There were no ifs or buts about it. You were going to talk and he was going to listen.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said.

Reacher kissed your hand one more time before exiting the truck and walking around to open your door. He helped you climb out of his massive truck and then walked with you to your front door, head on a swivel as if you were being watched. He sniffed the air and you found yourself looking around as well.

You used your keys to enter your parents’ house, calling out to them. Your mother rounded the corner immediately, opening her arms and drawing you into a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans?” Your mother asked.

“Plans changed,” you said before Reacher could start in with that bullshit line. ‘Duty calls’, your ass. You had half a mind to follow him wherever he tried to go tonight.

Your mother stepped away and then hugged Reacher, looking incredibly tiny compared to how big Reacher was. The idea took root in your mind as they spoke about you and how this was your favorite holiday. Your mother droned on about how you were as a child, trying to draw vampires and werewolves on pieces of paper for decorations. What she didn’t say was that your father tore them down and promptly turned off the lights, not wanting to give the wrong impression. And save money to boot.

Your mind formulated the plan quicker than you could keep up with. You could wait until night time, keeping an eye on the ring camera, and then take your mother’s car back to your place. You’d get to the bottom of why Reacher absolutely needed the house to himself for this one special night a year. Once was a fluke. Twice was intentional.

Your father lumbered into the room, eyes squinting at the intrusive noises. He looked Reacher up and down before breaking into a wide grin. “Reacher,” your father said.

“Sir,” he said back, grabbing and shaking your father’s hand. You eyed them both coolly, wondering how you ended up with two pig-headed men. Done with the niceties, Reacher pecked you respectfully on the cheek.

“I’ll call you when I get home. And then I’ll make it up to you, promise,” he said. You saw the twinge of heat in his eyes. The sparkle of mischief that let you know that he absolutely would make it up to you. It would probably involve intense oral and your pussy throbbed just thinking of him sitting between your legs until you begged for mercy.

You waved goodbye to him and watched him walk out of the door, already turning to your mother with a sweet smile. “Can I borrow your car later?”

Night time fell in waves, turning the sky from dusty blue to purplish black. Few stars twinkled overhead as you drove your mother’s car to your place. There were more cars out and you kept getting distracted by everybody in their amazing costumes.

However, you kept your phone on while looking at the video of your front door. You had a back door as well but Reacher rarely used it. Since coming home earlier, he hadn’t shown any sign that he left.

You were being paranoid. You knew this. You knew that he told you to stay away from the house and you were supposed to be at your parents’, trapped in your little tower, but you had a gnawing pit in your stomach.

What if he was sick? What if he was lying on the floor of your bedroom, delirious and out of his mind? This was just a wellness check. That was what you told yourself to justify disobeying his precious orders. In reality, your curiosity ate at you. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you knew for certain that Reacher was okay. That he was just poring over disturbing case files. Or whatever the hell he did on base.

You parked a few houses down from your place and then carefully made your way down the street. You smiled at kids in their costumes, remarked on how creative they were, and then sidled up to your house.

Little did your Reacher know, there were a few blindspots in the cameras. The camera angles couldn’t cover everything. There was one narrow slip down the side of the house that none of the cameras caught.

Your heart pounded in your chest and your legs wobbled but you were here now. Had to see it through.

You walked to the backyard, careful to avoid the back camera. You’d have to hope he wasn’t looking at his phone when you were ready to enter. Your boots crunched on dead leaves underfoot, sounding as loud as bone crunching. Your heart beat rapidly, creating a booming drum in your chest.

A stiff wind blew across your skin and you shivered as you hovered at the side of the house. This was nuts. You were a grown woman sneaking around your own home. Reacher was active military and was not expecting you. If he thought you were an intruder and shot you, you wouldn’t know what to tell Jesus.

“Sorry, Lord, I thought he was cheating on me.” What a stupid way to meet your end. Rationale kicked in with the dropping temperature. You shivered, pulling your phone out of your pocket and scrolling to Reacher’s number.

His thumbnail was a rare picture you managed to snap after you smeared ice cream on his nose during a mini vacation. He had his eyes closed but a clear, goofy grin on his face. It was your favorite. He didn’t deserve this. None of this.

Rattling chains tore your attention from your phone to the back of your house. Chains? What the fuck?

The chains rattled again followed by a low whine. It sounded like a wounded animal. Your fingers shook while holding your phone. You were frozen to the spot. Should you investigate? That was some grade A white people shit, but again, what if Reacher was sick? What if he was in trouble at this very moment?

You knew how to shoot thanks to Reacher’s careful instruction and need to keep you safe at all times. The only problem was, his guns were all locked up in the basement. You took a deep breath. You could be strong for Reacher.

The camera be damned, you jogged up to the back of the house and used your keys to get inside. The house was dark, lights off and no movement in the house. You wanted to call out, but you still didn’t know where the rattling chain sound was coming from.

You carefully picked your way through the house, turning on your flashlight. Even if a thief saw you, you just didn’t want Reacher to shoot your ass. You walked down the hallway, scanning the phone’s beam over every inch of space before you.

You definitely saw Reacher come inside and never leave. So where the fuck was he? Did he know about the blindspots too?

A high-pitched, animal-like whine tore through the house and turned your insides liquid with fear.

What. The. Fuck.

The beam of light shook, creating wavy shadows on the walls. You took a deep breath and decided to brave it. If there was a big ass animal stuck in your basement somehow, you needed to know. If Reacher was into some demon sacrifice shit, you absolutely needed to know right this second.

Your sexy bear was more than capable of handling himself. He had been nothing but sweet when it came to you. But you never truly knew a person. And if that motherfucker was summoning shit in your basement, you were going to scream bloody murder. Assuming you escaped from him.

You shook your head, stepping closer to the basement door underneath your stairs. The rattling and whines began to mix, creating a disharmonious screech against your eardrums. Enough to make them itch.

You opened the door and peered down the rickety stairs. You hated the basement. Hated going down the wooden slats that felt like it could give at any moment. The light was on down there with a large shadow moving to and fro.

You were going to be sick. What were you about to find? “Momma ain’t raise no bitch,” you muttered, clutching your phone to your chest. It was a small weapon, but it’d do.

You took the first step and then another, curiosity making your steps quicker. Like ripping off the band-aid, you just needed to see. Needed to know. If you were harboring a freak or a psycho killer this whole time, you were going to be sick. Not knowing was killing you.

With each step gained, more and more of the basement was revealed. You stepped low enough to peer under the ceiling and gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

A man-like figure stood with its paw on the cement wall, other hand thrusting furiously on its…dick. Its throbbing, dripping dick. The keening whines you heard were the excited moans of the figure, stroking its dick.

The figure was hairy all over, clearly naked, with pale skin poking beneath gray patches. The arms had muscle stacked on muscle and it had to be at least seven feet tall. Just barely missing the top of the ceiling. It stood on haunched legs, claws extended and scraped the cement flooring.

The snout was slightly elongated but somehow human with protruding canines poking from thin lips. “Fuuuuuck,” the beast growled.

You gasped, growing more aroused by the second. This was sick. This was hot. You watched as it bent its head towards a pillow with a long shirt draped over. It stepped closer to the pillow, chains rattling around its hind legs. You glanced at the long shirt. It kind of looked like…

Was that your shirt? Was the beast jerking itself off to your shirt? How long had this creature been here? Where did it come from? And where the hell was Reacher?

The beast tipped its head back, fingering the tip of its dick. Gathered up beads of pre-cum and then stroked itself again. Your name pushed from its lips sounding suspiciously like …

“Reacher?” You asked.

The beast turned its head completely to you. It was hard to tell but…those eyes. He couldn’t change those eyes.

He called your name, spreading his arms and looking like a deer in headlights. Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth shut. You wanted to see him cum.

“Leave!” He growled, his voice impossibly deep and animalistic. He stepped forward but the chains prevented him from getting too close to the stairs. You looked him over. You didn’t know how to deal with this.

Should you run? Should you call for help? Should you help him finish? You stepped down the rest of the stairs and Reacher held out his hand, urging you to stop. You did, one step from the ground.

Reacher paced, sniffing the air and whining. “Go away before I hurt you,” he said, his eyes glowing with fury. You heard the warning bells in your head but you were too full of lust to pay attention. This was an impossible dream come true. An entire fantasy brought to life. How many monster fucker books did you have on your brand new bookshelf thanks to Reacher?

“You won’t hurt me,” you said.

You had a million questions. How? How did he become this? How long had monsters been walking the planet and no one knew? No one had pictures. No one had proof. How?

Reacher pawed at his ear as if he were ready to burst from his skin. He continued to sniff the air, whines escaping from him as if he couldn’t help it. He was still fully erect, thick bead of pre-cum leaking down his tip and dropping to the floor. His dick was twice its normal size and stuffed. Your pussy clenched looking at it.

“Go away,” he growled. He was clearly a true mix of man and beast. It should scare you. It should be the last thing you entertained. But your eyes kept dropping to his dick.

“Reacher…”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pulling at the chains against his legs. The hook pulled from the wall and if he weren’t careful, he would break it altogether.

A tiny bit of self preservation told you to leave. To turn and close the door and leave him to…whatever the fuck was going on. You stepped backwards as he continued to whine and pull at the chains hooked into the wall.

The one holding his left foot down escaped from the wall entirely. He stopped whining and looked down at it. He slowly raised his furry face and tilted his head at you. His eyes narrowed and then he sniffed the air, getting closer to the ground until he was on all fours.

You backed away, keeping your eye on him. This was too new. You didn’t know what to do here. Should you run? Would he just catch you? You backed up the stairs and Reacher’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t any more.

You turned and ran just as the other chain came loose and then his booming steps were following close behind you. You swore you already felt hot breath on your neck as you exited the basement and ran towards the front door.

Reacher snarled, hot on your heels. Teeth snapping, howls splitting the air. You didn’t have the presence of mind to scream. Or yell for help. You passed by the living room just as Reacher’s massive body pushed you to the ground.

You fell forward with a thud and grunted, knees smarting from hitting the hard flooring. Reacher sniffed your hair and your body, excitable whines leaving him. Or were those moans?

He licked your cheek, long tongue lolling out of his mouth. He sniffed you more, hands searching your body but you didn’t know for what.

“What do you need?” You asked. You tried looking behind you. The room was pretty dark but enough light from the porch shone through your windows and illuminated parts of his face and body. His body hair was soft, snuggly, and you kept yourself still as he continued to paw at you. What was he looking for?

“You. You. You. You.” Reacher was out of his mind. He couldn’t stop chanting that word as he pawed and ripped at your clothes. He stopped and growled low in your ear. A moan escaped you anyway.

Fuck, you were turned on. Turned on to the max. Your panties were soaked with your essence as Reacher sniffed your neck, your back, and trailed down to your joggers. He growled as he caught your scent and then leaned down harder on you.

“Trying. To. Fight. Must. Go.”

“Why? What do you need? What do you need from me?” You asked.

“Can’t. Control.” He growled, grinding his pelvis against your legs and onto the floor.

“Sex? You need sex?” You asked. This was what he had been hiding from you? Did he not trust you with this?

“Don’t. Want. Hurt. You.” He grinded his hips again, a low, deep whine escaping him.

“You won’t hurt me. It’s okay,” you said. Hell, if it was sex he needed then you were more than game. You slid sideways and he growled, pressing his claw against your back to hold you down.

“It’s okay,” you said. You slowly flipped over, letting him know that you weren’t trying to escape. Once on your back, Reacher sniffed and pawed at you once more.

“Leave.” His eyes were full of anguish and despair. But he drooled and licked his chops. His teeth were large, sharp enough to cut through glass you bet.

Your hands moved to your joggers, peeling it off of your sweat-slick body. Your body thrummed with anticipation and adrenaline, the earlier chase only turning you on more. You kept your eyes on his as you shimmied out of your panties and pants.

He sniffed at your tummy, moving lower to your pussy. He groaned, a distinctly human sound, as he ground his hips into the floor. “Smell me. I want you. I want this. You won’t hurt me,” you said.

You lifted the hem of your shirt and took that off as well. Cold air hit your nipples but with the overbearing heat radiating off of him, it was manageable. Reacher sniffed at your exposed skin, licking your nipples. You moaned and arched your back. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, that felt amazing.

His long tongue captured your entire titty in one lick, leaving a neat trail of saliva on your skin. You shivered as he did it over and over, licking around your nipples. He went back and forth, alternating between them both. His nails clicked on the hardened floor as he braced himself, climbing up your body. He licked your neck and whined, adding in a moan that made your pussy flutter.

As if he heard it or possibly smelled the fresh slick between your thighs, he leaned back on his knees and then spread your legs. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. He was so..unhinged. He operated on instinct, spreading your legs as far as it would go.

“Sure?” Reacher asked. “Don’t. Hurt.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure,” you moaned.

Reacher reached down and used that wonderful tongue to lap at your aching pussy. You moaned and tried to close your legs to the onslaught of pleasure. Hell, you didn’t think you could go back to getting eaten out the regular way.

His tongue was beautiful and nasty as he latched onto your clit. His sharp canines grazed your pussy lips but never punctured skin. You writhed on the ground, pulling at his hair. He growled and increased his licking and sucking.

You were falling head first into a powerful, sinful orgasm that robbed you of sight and breath. Your hearing went out of one ear as you convulsed on his mouth, shivering and twitching.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” You cried. One orgasm led to another, making your entire body buck off of the ground. Reacher held you down with his paws, made you take his tongue between your thighs. He pushed his tongue into your dripping hole and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that,” you moaned, yanking at his hair. If it hurt him, you didn’t hear. You dug your nails into his scalp as he pulled another orgasm from you. Your thighs shook, the heels of your feet digging into the hardwood flooring.

Reacher lifted his head finally, licking his lips. Your essence dripped from his mouth and you licked your lips. Your hearing slowly returned as he grabbed your hips and flipped you over.

“Floor too hard,” you moaned. Fuck. He was about to take you doggy style. You couldn’t help arching your back and wiggling your ass. Reacher growled and then jumped to his feet with inhuman speed. As if he had extra muscles in this form that allowed him to move more smoothly.

He picked you up and then placed you onto the powder blue rug in your living room. Much better. He dropped to his knees and roughly grabbed your hips. He pulled until your back was arched once more, ass high in the air.

His claws dug into your ass cheeks as his dick poked and prodded at your entrance. You were dripping with slick, pussy clenching and unclenching at the back to back orgasms. But fuck, you wanted more. “Take what you need,” you moaned. “You won’t hurt me.” Even if he was rough, you’d accept it.

Reacher pushed in, met resistance, and kept going. You cried out, fingers clawing at the carpet. The stretch burned. He was far bigger than his normal size and you struggled to take him then. It took a lot of prep time to have sex with Reacher. It was beyond needed now. But you didn’t have time.

You were driven out of your mind with lust. The darkened room, the grunts and moans coming from his raspy throat, and your moans created a sweet symphony. You were drunk on it. Intoxicated by it. You tried to wiggle and push down on his dick.

Reacher howled as he sank further and deeper inside you, pushing beyond your limits. Stretching you out completely. You were completely stuffed and he still had more to go. “I can take you, baby. Keep going,” you gasped and moaned.

You shut your eyes to the sheer pleasure coursing through your body. His dick hit a deep spot inside you and you collapsed onto the floor as the orgasm tore through your body. You felt like you were split in half on his thrusting, throbbing dick.

“So good. So good. Needed.” Reacher moaned in between howls.

“Oh fuck. I can’t, I can’t,” you moaned. You drooled onto the carpet, body limp and weak. Reacher gripped your hips tighter, holding you, impaling you on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he finally unloaded, stuffing you to the brim with his cum.

You were filled up like a pastry. He thrust harder, pushing it deeper inside of you. It was so much cum, it dripped out of you despite his dick keeping it inside like a plug. His cum leaked down the sides of your pussy lips, around your clit, and dropped onto the floor.

“One more,” Reacher said, sounding more like himself than before.

“I can’t, baby,” you whispered, voice completely gone from all the screaming and moaning you were doing.

“One more,” he said again. He pulled all the way out of you and then thrust back in. He did that over and over, wet smacks filling the air. Your pussy ached and throbbed but you continued to accept him into your body. You made room for him. Made room for his still hardened dick spearing you.

He whined, claws still digging into your hips. You were going to have bruises like a motherfucker in the morning. But it was so worth it. You clenched around his dick and Reacher moaned, faltering with his steady rhythm and sliding in much deeper than before. His tip kissed your G-spot and you came instantly, flooding his dick with your essence.

You screamed out, cries echoing and bouncing around the darkened room. Reacher finally pulled out and your pussy squelched.

You moaned and shivered as more of his cum leaked out of you. You gently fell to the side as Reacher cuddled up next to you on the floor. You petted his thick fur, mind blissfully quiet and empty.

You were nearly asleep when the doorbell rang. Reacher growled, clutching you to him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you said.

You petted him until he calmed back down, settling down with a contented sigh. You grabbed the nearest throw blanket and wrapped it around yourself. “Who is it?” You called out.

“Police, ma’am,” a deep voice said.

You looked out of the peephole to see two officers in uniform standing outside your door. You threw a nervous glance towards Reacher who was still fast asleep. You cracked open the door and peeked out.

“Yes?” You asked.

“We got a few calls about strange noises coming from this address,” one of the police officers said.

“Sorry. Me and my boyfriend were going a little crazy with the whole Halloween theme,” you said.

The officer looked towards his partner and then glanced back at you. “Are you safe, ma’am?” He asked quietly.

You smiled and nodded your head. “I assure you, we’re good. More than good,” you said with a sleepy giggle. It was a miracle you were still on your feet. The officer gave you one last look and then tried to look behind you. But the door was only open a crack and there was nothing for him to see.

“If you need help, here’s my card,” he said. He handed you a card and you waved. You slammed the door in his face and locked it behind you.

You leaned against it with a bone weary sigh and rejoined your werewolf boyfriend on the floor. You were going to regret sleeping on the floor in the morning but for now, you couldn’t give a single damn.

Thank you for all the love for my first Reacher fic! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

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