#a few non-far cry ones include

[simplegenius042]

To all my mutuals...

I'm developing a off-Tumblr list of fellow mutuals who want to be tagged for my stuff and those who wish not to be. (Me on the other hand? Please DO tag me in your stuff, I love being tagged and reading all your works even when I don't say much, which is something I'm trying to get out of the habit of).

Just so I know who actually wants to be tagged for my stuff, would you so kindly like this post? Or comment (even reblog if you want) if you want to state your answer more clearer? (A yes or a no is all I need).

My "stuff" in question includes the following:

WIPs, Publishing of my fics, Music Mondays/Playlists relating to characters/stories, Tag Games, Quizzes, maybe art and other related things (once I expand my comfort zone to become more familiar with that stuff).

While I mostly group together some of my WIPs together (which often include fandoms you may or may not be in) on the blog I'm posting from now (and then reblog them to one of my main story blogs depending on if they include the specific fandom I write for them in), there are times I will be posting from my other three main story blogs which include my @the-untitledverse-blog (fandoms greatly vary and often mix in with original writing), @the-silver-chronicles (mainly Far Cry 5 with some other fandoms mixed in and few original writing), and @life-despair-and-monsters-blog (a couple fandoms mixed in with original story, a smaller scale The UnTitledverse) as well as of course this blog which includes fandoms in all three blogs, but is mostly meant for original story and that one Fallout series I'm cooking up. In fact, my pinned post on this very blog will give you a run down on the fandoms each of these blogs focus on so if you want you can make a more clear decision there.

Anyway, remember to like if yes, or if you want to be more thorough and clear on your answer, comment or reblog either just a yes or a no.

Chow!

[danieyells]

Tokyo Debunker Stigmas, Artifacts, And Other Possibly Combat Relevant Information

Since we've met all of our current ghouls, I decided to share my non-comprehensive list of the stigmas and powers and weapons of the ghouls we've seen so far!! This isn't all of them because they haven't all been revealed or explained. But it should be everything we've seen so far! Let me know if/where I've missed things! I've also mentioned some other details for some of them, namely the less human ghouls.

Jin Kamurai

Stigma

Incantation - Bianerus

Effect - forces the target to obey his command.

Currently cannot be activated without the PC's enhancement. At present, only Tohma, the PC, and few if any others know this.

Incantation can be recited mentally

Continuous commands("kneel") only seem to last a few minutes at most

Artifact

Sword - teleportation

Can be used to cut a portal into the air for teleporting someone with him, but doesn't appear to need this for just teleporting Jin

Tohma Ishibashi

Stigma

Incantation - Argeas

Effect - "lets him send vibrations long distances"

Vibrations include the vibrations from his voice, allowing his voice to carry longer distances, making him heard further away

When enhanced he can break through anomalous soundproofing and better specify the direction his vibrations carry(as neither Kaito nor Luca heard his voice from outside the room)

Artifact

Halberd - ?

Other

Tohma naturally has "brute strength" which, combined with his stigma, allows him to essentially make earthquakes.

Lucas Errant

Stigma

Incantation - Iggnaim

Effect - creates a barrier.

When enhanced the barrier becomes visible. It's significantly larger and supported by a large anomaly that's invisible to everyone but the PC and perhaps Kaito, even unable to be seen on cameras or by Luca himself.

Artifact

Twin blades - ?

Appear identical aside from a difference in color.

Smashed through reenforced glass to choose him as their new master.

Apparently sound to Luca like a crying child. He believes the child must be begging for his help.

Other

Carries around a knife.

Kaito Fuji

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - "can see auras sometimes?"

So far hasn't been seen/used, and Hyde didn't sound certain about what it does.

Kaito has notably enhanced vision, able to see things that are further away and surprisingly skilled at reading lips.

Kaito screams when Luca's stigma is enhanced, looking straight up at the anomaly it spawned despite no one else but the PC appearing to see it. While it's possible he only saw its aura, it's likely he saw the anomaly itself.

Artifact

Rogue bow - ?

Veers nonsensically off path when shot, except, seemingly, if Kaito truly wishes to hit the target(?)

Alan Mido

Stigma

Incantation - Yagsal Olbalsa

Effect - super strength.

Artifact

Lead pipe - ?

Leo Kurosagi

Stigma

Incantation - Haxs

Effect - super hearing.

Increases distance and precision of his hearing. Does not allow him to hear through anomalous soundproofing.

When enhanced increases distance further and allows him to hear through anomalous soundproofing.

Artifact

Bubble gum - can be manipulated into any shape when blown.

The longer it's chewed, the longer he can manipulate it

Shohei Haizono

"So if I chewed this one a bunch and stuck it over your nose and mouth...

"...you'd suffocate. Bye bye Honor Roll."

suggests that it can't be removed until the time he's manipulated it runs out?

Stigma

Incantation - Spurno

Effect - forces change in direction.

When enhanced the change in direction is more forceful, like a knockback effect.

Artifact

Motorcycle - ?

Her name is Bonnie. She eats food placed in her fuel tank instead of gasoline, including chewing it and even burping. She's picky about what she eats. Her favorite food is barbecue sandwiches, but she also eats jerky.

Sho drives her just about everywhere.

Haru Sagara

Stigma

Incantation - Bahnti

Effect - reduces gravity's effects on his own body.

Reduced effect of gravity allows him to move extremely fast.

Makes his body much more fragile when used. Possibly includes weakening his immune system?

Artifact

Deck brush - ?

Towa Otonashi

Stigma

Incantation - ? (has an audio file, but the spelling hasn't been shown.)

Effect - Controls weather?

Towa exhibits control over weather as his primary ability, however because it's not shown to be in response to his incantation it's somewhat dubious as to whether or not it's actually his stigma.

Others' understanding of Towa's stigma is only that he controls lightning and that other weather patterns are random, not in response to Towa's feelings.

The weather reacts to Towa's emotions, causing the sky to darken in preparation of rain, lightning, or snowstorms when he's angry.

When Towa was away from Jabberwock for a day the nature conditions deteriorated significantly, with water drying up and the sky dark despite it being sunny the previous day. This may be coincidental, as Darkwick's weather is said to be unpredictable.

Towa is also able to predict weather that he doesn't control.

Towa can create lightning(which he uses to electrocute enemies), rain, wind(used to create a pillar of water for the PC to land on when falling off the boat and to direct the rain sideways to wash bubble soap off of Kaito), snow, and possibly earthquakes(the ground is noted to start shaking in response to his anger.)

His lightning may be able to be used under water without being conducted into non-targets, however it's also possible he used harsh winds instead of lightning when destroying Otohime and her minions.

Artifact

Bubble wand - blown bubbles cause explosions.

The explosions are powerful enough to destroy glass that withheld a full grown Kraken.

Towa warns not to touch the bubbles, as they will kill you.

Other

Towa cannot speak during the daytime and is only able to talk when it's night. This includes being in Obscuary, where it's permanently night, however the cover of clouds doesn't allow him to speak during the day meaning it's not related specifically to the visibility of the sun.

Can speak to and understand anomalies, even those that lack speech capabilities(such as the tree on the hill.) Haru is aware of this.

Able to see and hear ghosts(Zenji) and possibly other things that only people who are "special" can see(the tree on the hill.)

Can jump so high he can essentially fly, although this may be related to control of wind(though there's no notation that the wind blows when he jumps.)

Anomalies fear him and obey him, particularly when he's angry, even to the point of kneeling out of fear when he's furious.

Ren Shiranami

Stigma

Incantation - Raothtas

Effect - Cleans things?

Has only been used to remove Calamari's ink from the floor when wiping it up failed.

Artifact

Swim ring - restrains target.

Cannot be removed by the wearer.

Has a rope attached that allows the wearer to be reeled in.

Taiga Hoshibami

Stigma

Incantation - Malab

Effect - ?

Artifact

Tommy gun - takes anything broken into small enough pieces and fired from it as ammo.

Other

Damage type seems to vary based on what was placed into it. Shards of glass created a swirl of glass shards, whereas bronze from a statue shot heavier rounds.

Doesn't seem to require ammo to fire.

Doesn't seem to work on everything as Taiga says his bullets don't work on anything lately. Possibly limited to hostile entities? (He was able to shoot the Oblivion Dealer, but not able to shoot the Kyklos--which ran away--or the Barong--which was non-threatening.)

Carries a knife and a pistol.

Romeo Scorpus Lucci

Stigma

Incantation - Tiris

Effect - "turns things into bombs".

Able to turn anything into a bomb, including non-explosive objects.

The size of the blast depends on how attached to the target object its owner is. If Romeo truly values something he's blowing up, the explosion is quite destructive.

Hyde has him testing various types of prototype anomalous explosive materials for Darkwick on missions.

Artifact

"To me, these prototypes are a path to catching anomalies in one piece." which implies most of Hyde's prototypes cause non-lethal explosions.

Sniper rifle - ?

Maintains his bullets himself.

Doesn't always carry the same types of rounds. For example, he only had smoke bombs in the prologue.

Ritsu Shinjo

Stigma

Incantation - Acimo

Effect - hardens his body. Increases his weight.

Artifact

Prevents damage from concussive attacks such as kicks and bullets. If you kick him while it's active it'll hurt.

Doesn't seem to experience pain in this state.

Can survive explosions and escape from collapsed buildings unharmed.

Compendium of Laws - ?

Subaru Kagami

Has the contents memorized?

Taiga taught him to use it as a blunt weapon.

Stigma

Incantation - Talnandio

Effects - psychometry.

Experiences memory fragments through almost anything he touches.

Passive, activates on contact with people, animals, anomalies, and objects without incantation.

Using it exhausts him to the point of needing a significant amount of rest, possibly even passing out shortly after usage.

Wears gloves and avoids crowded places to try and avoid accidentally setting it off. Feels bad about being able to learn people's secrets.

Artifact

Parasol - ?

Sturdy enough to destroy a possessed doll.

Haku Kusanagi

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Implied he prefers not using it?

Artifact

Flute - ?

Used flute to remove himself and the PC from Kisaragi Station, knocking them out with some sort of ethereal water and causing them to wake up back on the empty train car.

Other

Able to see and communicate with spirits.

Able to perform various rituals such as laying spirits to rest and making talismans that allow people close to a spirit to see and hear them.

"Cordoned off the area" of the train and station the PC was on, which should have prevented interference from civilians. May be part of his Artifact or Stigma, or part of his capabilities as a Shinto priest.

Zenji Kotodama (Taro Kirisaki)

Performs the stigma test for Darkwick.

According to Taiga he's able to remove curses if the anomaly that caused the curse is in front of him. It's uncertain if this is his stigma, part of his artifact, or another power.

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Artifact

Doll - ?

Heavily resembles Jiro as a child, according to Zenji.

Won't let anyone but Zenji touch it. Protects Zenji.

Appearance slightly changes to that of an oni when angered.

Has a mind of its own. Wanders around campus without Zenji, much to his concern.

Able to damage and destroy ghosts.

Other

As a ghost, Zenji cannot be touched, meaning he can't be damaged or killed. However he covers his ears when Haku performs a ritual to lay spirits to rest and covers his face in Subaru's warding card with incense, suggesting that he would be laid to rest under the right circumstances.

Darkwick is unaware Jiro is present as only Haku and Towa(and eventually Subaru and the PC) are aware Zenji's spirit lingers. If Darkwick were to become aware of Zenji's presence they would want him laid to rest.

Due to Obon, people in Japan are more sensitive to spirits and anomalies are more frequent, causing Zenji to sometimes be visible during the summer.

Zenji brings his doll with him most everywhere, however people can only see the doll and not him. The same happens with his biwa. If he carries them, they appear to float. In the summer people in Japan are more sensitive to spirits(due to Obon) and may see or hear Zenji when they wouldn't otherwise.

Zenji can touch physical objects(his doll, his biwa, and his phone) and his footsteps are audible if he doesn't silence them.

Afraid of ghosts, possibly the dark, and maybe dead bodies.

Edward Hart

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Artifact

Cane? - ?

While his profile lists his Special Artifact as "??", he holds a cane in his combat chibi.

Other

Edward is, or was historically, the world's strongest vampire, implying a great deal of hidden power. As he is 400+ years old, he knows a great deal about anomalies that Darkwick doesn't listen to for some reason. However being old has also made his body and mind much weaker. . .allegedly.

Ed has immense power, which we've only heard of him using on the singular mission he participated in. Using it he obliterated an anomaly and a building in such a way that Darkwick struggled to cover up(unlike Tohma's destruction which was able to be explained as poor maintenance and age) suggesting he more or less vaporized it. It's unknown if this is a vampire power or his stigma.

Ed is able to transform into a bat and fly around. He doesn't seem to be able to speak in this form, only screeching loudly.

If Rui touches him, the touched part will break off(at which point it can be reattached simply by pushing it back into place,) ache intensely for a time, or he will die temporarily. However Ed is immortal and cannot die by normal means. He doesn't need to breathe and cannot be suffocated, for example.

As a vampire, Ed is rapidly exhausted by sunlight. Sunlight won't kill him instantly, but it will cause him to collapse. He claims sunlight will turn him to ash eventually, and he cannot be outside in the sun without a parasol. If it's cloudy enough, Ed is able to be outside during the day. He's usually tired during the daytime, but still seems to sleep during the night.

Ed is physically and mentally weaker during summer months, but stronger during autumn and winter.

Ed primarily drinks tears, although he mentions that he does drink blood in his character story and on the home screen. He finds that human food doesn't taste like much of anything.

Ed mentions that Lyca's soul is misshapen, however it's unclear if he can actually see his soul or if he was merely teasing him.

Rui Mizuki

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - temporary relief of pain and discomfort

Incantation has only been said in his head.

It's unclear if blowing a kiss is required to activate it or if that's just for flair.

Artifact

Scythe - allows Rui to conceal himself in darkness.

Rui admits to using his artifact to keep an eye on others on campus.

Other

Suffers from a 'Reaper Curse' which effectively makes him a reaper.

Cannot make skin contact with living things without them dying. This includes humans, animals, plants, and even mold!

Wears gloves, a turtleneck, and avoids crowded places to avoid committing manslaughter.

Absorbs the life energy of what he touches and kills. This kills almost anything instantly as most things are too weak to survive it. Absorbed energy goes straight to his body, preventing him from sleeping. He keeps himself as busy as possible as a result of having so much energy to spare.

Lyca Colt

Stigma

Incantation - Ramsochisa

Effect - allows him to follow any scent he's smelled before.

Artifact

Claws - ?

Other

Werewolf. Transforms with exposure to the full moon. "The speed of his transformation is affected by how much he's exposed to moonlight and his mental state." Sometimes feels his skin crawling when the full moon is near?

Covering his head when he's outside under the full moon prevents or regresses his transformation. Collapses after his transformation regresses from half wolf and doesn't transform while unconscious. Nothing happens to him if he's not exposed to the full moon on a full moon night. Obscuary is always a crescent moon, allowing him to be there safely during a full moon.

Werewolves have four stages: Human, partial wolf, half wolf, and full wolf. At 'half wolf' Lyca is an anthropomorphic wolf. However, he loses control of himself after he's been transformed for a while, and may attack indiscriminately.

He doesn't remember much when he transforms. He might remember less if he fully transforms?

Yuri Isami

Stigma

Incantation - Agnihaet

Effect - "hyperstimulates his braincells"

"allows him to logically process information and solve complex equations almost instantaneously."

when enhanced seemed to make the information processing instantaneous and extremely accurate?

Artifact

Syringe - Causes injuries received by the individual injected with its contents to damage the entity that inflicted them.

Jiro Kirisaki

Stigma

Incantation - ?

Effect - ?

Artifact

Chainsaw - ?

According to his Christmas home screen dialogue where he cut down a fir tree for Yuri, the chainsaw doesn't cut well. However in the chapter it seems to have no problem cutting through flesh. Perhaps it cuts through anomalies or flesh, but not other things?

Other

Jiro is noted to be especially strong.

Jiro was in a coma until an undisclosed time ago, when Yuri was able to awaken him from it. When he was comatose and for how long and why hasn't been relayed yet, however he was said to be particularly violent during The Clash, meaning he was likely awakened before or during it.

As a side effect of his condition and mysterious illness, Jiro has a poor memory, immunodeficiency, and his wounds reopen very easily. He needs four treatments a day, and they take around an hour to complete. Yuri is the only one who can administer them, and Jiro isn't able to do so himself. Even with his treatments he's forgetful and prone to being sick and has a bit of a fragile constitution. Abrupt changes in temperature, for example, make him choke.

Jiro doesn't react much to his wounds and being in pain, but he will eventually collapse from overexertion or illness if he misses a treatment or has taken too much damage.

[lady-ashfade]

Day 2 Of Fictober

Poison

Yandere! Rhaenrya Targaryen x Daughter!Reader.

Ask: Can you write a platonic yandere mother Rhaenyra fic where she secretly gives her daughter non fatal doses of poison so that she is to sick to leave Dragonstone when its time for her to marry her betrothed.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Over protective, over bearing parent, being poisoned. Poison, family full of yanderes, daemon being included because it fits.

The day you were born Rhaenrya swore she could hear the gods sing in harmony together. Your cries sounded like heaven to her ears, the little girl who belong to her. Y/n, the first daughter of Rhaenrya Targaryen. “Beautiful,” she brushed the hair and blood off of your forehead and placed a kiss.

“My sweet girl.”

You had stoped crying when you came into contact with her skin and warmth, she was safe and familiar. Rhaenrya had blessed with a boy and she was grateful to have two beautiful children. But her first born had dark hair and fair light skin, you had her features of paler skin and silver hair. Your mother knew she needed to protect you from the darkness of the world and keep you innocent.

Each day you were at the queens side or in your own room. She would take her younger son to see you and get you both comfortable with one another. Jace couldn’t stop smiling and clapping when he saw you, he’s such a good older brother. As the years passed by you grew to need your mother or your brothers, being dependent on her. Where the princess went you weren’t far behind in a small dress and coping her.

But now it was the day she had dreaded for your whole life. You being betrothed to a lord far away and not with her.

“But mother, I need silver.” You huffed as you pressed the dress to your body. A smile on your cheeks as you swing yourself from side to side in the mirror. “Silver will match his clothes.” She cringed at your giggling and delighted to be married off, to leave her behind. A daughter should want to stay with her mother as long as she could, even cry when leaving her mother.

“You are stressing dearest,” her hands stopped your hands and looked at you through the mirror and smiled. “No need not to change for a man, not when you’re already perfection.” Her lips met your cheeks and you laugh at her sweetness and affection. You turned around and took her back into your arms and hugged her close.

“Only because you’re my mother and taught me every I know. I will make you proud, mother. This marriage will help our family with the whispers,” a hushed tone of the mention of rumors spreading around the realm of you and your brothers birth. “Promise.” Her chest loved how you smiled and wanted to help her, her sweet girl.

But it was foolish to think she’d let you go. And that’s why she needed to keep you by her side since you were so naive.

She watched as you laughed with your brothers at the table and ate your favorite meal. How could she let this go? As soon as you lifted your cup to your mouth she was ready for the moment to happen. Daemon by her side keeping a eye on you too as he help with the poison, a maester waiting outside the door. A few seconds later you began to cough and play it off for a few seconds until it became hard for you to breathe.

“Someone help her!” Rhaenrya acted the part of a scared mother and it wasn’t all a lie. Seeing you so panicked and scared, grabbing ahold of her as if it was the last time. Of course she hated it but this was for the best. No one would ever expected the woman who loved her children above all else to poison them. Daemon had a “search” for the person who did it, and a servant was kill for the crime. A innocent life was worthless to them when it came to you.

A few days later you awaken from your rest and saw your mother beside your bed as she hummed. “Mother?” You called out with a horse voice and she jumped up to take you in her arms. The relief spread on her face as she kissed your head repeatedly and whisper prayers to the gods. “I was so worried.” You held onto her but she got a cup and lifts it to your lips. The first thing was to clear your throat and get it back.

Sipping the drink you smile and lean back down, looking at her loving. “Please tell me I wasn’t out to long, Sir Roderick will be saddened at my lack of letters.” It went unnoticed that she gripped the sheets and a quick smirk that she turned into a smile. He will have to find another bride to have because you’re never leaving the castle.

“I’m sure you will recover soon.” The cup was set back down as she smiled at the bottom where a powder was seen. Rhaenrya kept you on a small amount of poison every week to keep you from getting around on your own or to long. Something to make your body weak without her help.

“Now rest up, my sweet girl.”

[asharasasylum]

The Devil May Cry

Yandere brother x sister! reader (hotd) - part 2 here

author's note: hey guys trying something different. no character specified but characters i write for/have written for and think would fit, highlighted at the bottom. warnings: yandere. non con kisses. incest. abuse. talks of past child abuse. 18+

After everything he constantly puts you through, you still seem to always go running back. 

He’s cruel. Some people would even characterise him as vile, your parents included, but you saw through all of that. It was a reaction to the years of abuse and trauma your parents had buried him under as a child. So he lashed out sometimes, called you spiteful names and even scared you at times. But how was he supposed to know any better, especially when the people that were meant to love him had shown him nothing but hate. 

You felt it was up to you to show him love even when his cruelty was aimed towards you. He’s your brother, who neglects their brother. 

You took it. Every single bit of it. From the nasty venom he spat from his lips to the objects that skimmed you as they flew from his fist, smashing into the walls behind you. He terrified you most of the time and yet you still offered a hand out for him to bite. 

But he’s taken it too far. You repeat it over and over in your head again as you pack all your remaining stuff into a bag. 

You can still feel the indent of his rings against your throat and the touch of his lips pressed against yours. Bile rose up in the back of your throat as your mind tried to face the reality of what had really just happened. 

“We’re playing this game again are we?” You heard him sneer from the bed. 

You glanced up at him for a second, noticing how he was still sprawled out over the top of his sheets as if nothing had happened. Your stomach twisted in disgust and you turned away again. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, yeah?” He asked rhetorically, genuinely believing like all the other times before you were going to come crawling back. But you couldn’t not when you could still feel his body pressing against yours as he forced himself on top of you, the feel of his body moulding into yours and the hardness that he had pressed against your crotch. 

You’re in the car before you know it, half an hour away with his mocking laughter still ringing in your ears. 

You can barely see out your window, it’s clouded by something only you don’t notice what it is till you pull over. Your hand reaches out to wipe it, only to realise it is tears covering your vision. 

Even as you frantically wipe at them, they’re thick and heavy as they rack through your body. They’re not going anywhere, along with the memory of what he had just done to you. 

It was only a kiss. You try to ease yourself with that thought. It had only lasted a few seconds before you stopped it. It was only a kiss.

//

You were meant to be gone for a few hours at best. Back before dinner, bringing him something home with a teary eyed smile and an apology as if you were the one in the wrong. Yet it is three am and you haven’t even so much as sent him a text. 

At first he’s worried, pacing back and forth in his bedroom thinking of all the awful things that might have happened to you. He’d never forgive himself if you got hurt. Especially when he had been the one to drive you away. 

Maybe he had taken it too far this time. But how was he meant to hold back when your eyes brimmed with tears and you pouted at his cruel words. He’s been desperate for a taste of you for years so who was he to deny himself when you were looking so delicate and ripe. 

His worry finally dies down when he tracks your phone down, finding your car outside a familiar building. That worry twists into a burning rage that courses through his body as he stares up into dimly lit windows

It’s only a friend, you had told him. No one he should be worried about, your words mock him as he taps his finger against his steering wheel. He felt like he could hear you laughing now. Besides you’re my brother and you’re way too old to be getting protective over me. 

The light flickers on in one of the apartment windows, and through the peak of the curtains he notices your silhouette. He knows it's you, recognising the tone of your skin under the flattering bright light. He knows the contours of your frame, even from a distance. 

You’re fine. But it isn’t relief that fills him as he realises this. He can’t describe the feeling that sinks into his skin as he starts his car up again. He’s never felt like this before, his anger mixing in with something else. 

His cheeks are wet suddenly and he wipes at them, only to realise he’s crying. But these tears aren’t for him, he tells himself as he drives off. No, these years are for you. 

HOTD - Aegon Targaryen. Aemond Targaryen. Jacaerys Velaryon.

HOTD - Fem x Male character Insert Master List

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[spamgyu]

BACKBURNER // PART 4

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 3 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

When he had told Jeonghan that his roommate had convinced him to go over to his best friend's house to finally tell her how he felt, he wasn't lying.

It wasn't just for show – to tell a fake story to make their lies believable.

"Seungcheol fumbled, are you going to do the same thing?" Minghao asked him, keeping his eyes trained on the screen while they worked together to complete their game's mission.

For the past few months, they had almost always circled back to one topic.

Y/n.

It was almost as if a switch had turned on in his head the day he realized that she was the one he loved this whole time. Just as has his mother predicted since their high school days, Mingyu had fallen in love for the one constant that was in his life.

"It's complicated, Hao. Shoot shoot– fuck." Mingyu cried, chucking his controller to the side as the screen flashed "MISSION FAILED".

Minghao shrugged. "How complicated could it be?"

"Well for one, it's one sided." He listed. "And then what, I lose her? Rather not have that."

"Just give it a shot. I doubt she'll cut you out anyways. She's stuck around this long, hasn't she?"

He was right.

She had seen the good, the bad, and the ugly and yet, she was still here. She still stuck by his side through it all.

He brought his fingers up to his lips, biting his nails – a bad habit he had developed whenever he allowed his thoughts to consume him.

The worst that could happen was that she could reject him, which he was 99% sure she would.

He just needed to get this damn weight off his shoulder.

Now more than ever.

Sighing, Mingyu stood from his seat. "Alright, I'm going to do it."

He had all the intentions of doing so that Valentine's Day. Showing up to her doorstep with a small bouquet of tulips he had picked up at Trader Joe's along with her favorite sweet treat from their bakery section – the brownie cookie combo that he swore was far too sweet for anyone's taste buds.

But instead, he was greeted by a girl with red eyes – it was clear that she had been crying just minutes before his arrival.

"Are those for me?" She sniffled, pointing to the contents in his hand.

"Yeah, I figured you were going to be upset this Valentine's day." He chuckled, lying through his teeth.

It wasn't the right time.

Mingyu wanted to tell her how he felt.

He wanted to finally feel the weight come off his chest but he knew it wasn't right.

Not when he still plagued her mind.

"Thank you." Y/n smiled, using the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her eyes. "No plans today?"

Mingyu shook his head, plopping down on her couch. "Today is for couples."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Fake dating?" Minghao repeated what his friend had just debriefed him after his arrival. "At your big age, you're going to pretend to fake dat– You know you've had many bad ideas before but this one takes the fucking cake."

Mingyu groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I know okay? I know, I just– She– I don't know. You know I'd do anything for her."

"Including helping her get Cheol back?" He cried.

"I just want her happy."

Minghao sarcastically clapped. "Let's give it up for the stupidest boy alive."

"Leave me alone." He pushed his friend's hands away from his face.

"This is going to be so fucking messy." He shook his head as he headed for his room, leaving his friend in the living room to wallow in his own thoughts.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

After three days of non-stop activities, she was ready to tap out – groaning in her bed as she flipped laying on one side to the other. She had mistakenly agreed to go hiking with Seokmin, Seungkwan and Hansol the day before and as someone who rarely did any physical activities, she was regretting her decision – feeling her thighs ache under the covers.

"Let's do something." Mingyu suggested from his bed, growing bored of the show he had been watching on the television.

Everyone else had left the hotel early in the morning to go ziplining, and considering her current state and his fear of heights, the duo had opted to sit this one activity out.

Getting the rest they deserve.

"I'm tired." She whined.

"Come on, I wanna go back up north and look around the shops." He pouted dramatically, batting his lashes at her.

They had all been so busy trying to complete the itinerary Eunji had so kindly organized that day that they weren't able to fully enjoy all the small town had to offer – Mingyu making note to pay it another visit during his free time.

Which was now.

She never could resist him.

Letting out a sigh, she sat up in her bed – trudging over to her suitcase. "You better fucking buy me something."

"I'm your boyfriend not your sugar daddy."

Grabbing the nearest article of clothing, Y/n turned around and threw it at him – hitting his face.

"I'm the luckiest man alive." He chuckled, tossing it back at her – making it perfectly into her suitcase.

"You sure are, baby." She winked, heading straight to the bathroom – outfit in hand.

"I thought we won't use baby!" He called out as the door slammed shut – a wide grin on his face.

He didn't care if it was in pure sarcasm. Mingyu felt his heart skip a beat.

Just as it had been the past few days.

Oh he was down bad.

Within an hour, they were back on the same road, blasting the same playlist – the two taking turns singing obnoxiously along to her favorite songs.

"I like it here." She reached over to dial the volume down, turning to point her film camera at him. "Smile– oh my god don't pose– ew!"

After a year of nothing but pure heartache, riding the roller coaster of emotions that Seungcheol had managed to strap her into, this was the first time in a while that the girl had enjoyed her time.

She couldn't help but dread the thought of the trip wrapping up, having to face the music of her reality – going back in to work, coming home to an empty apartment... and be alone with her thoughts.

With no Mingyu to distract her.

In the past few days, she had gained a new appreciation for her friend – noticing the small details of his actions. Especially after voicing this to Seungcheol on the beach, in attempts to defend their lie.

And even more when Mingyu had confirmed this two days ago.

At the time, she was simply saying what was at the top of her head. She had always known that he was there for her, answering all her calls in an instant and showing up with no questions asked.

Even if it was to help her get a bird, that had accidentally flown in and wreaked havoc, out if her apartment.

She remembered how stressed and terrified he was of hurting the poor thing as he used a broom to usher the small creature out – recording the whole thing on her phone for future entertainment purposes.

"Thank you." She glanced over at him, a soft smile on her lips.

"For what?" Mingyu's brows furrowed, confused at the sudden change of tone and air between them.

"Just being a good person." Y/n shrugged.

"Are you going all soft on me, y/n?" He teased.

"Don't make me take it back."

"I'm kidding." He chuckled, reaching over to give her cheek a poke. "I should be thanking you. You bullied me into being a good person."

Aside from his parents and his sister, she had a big influence on who he was and the man he had become today.

Y/n had never once let any of his mistakes go by without a single lecture. He remembered all the times he would sit in silence while she talked his ear off, even if it was something minor as forgetting to clean the lint trap out of his dryer.

Something about starting a house fire.

Before, when he was in his teens and still unappreciative of her nagging, Mingyu would simply roll his eyes – letting her words go in one ear and out another. As time had gone by, he had learned to appreciate it.

Welcoming it even; beating her to the punch to text her of his mistakes and asking for advice on how he could make it right.

"Not enough though. How many girls have cried because of you?"

"Don't make me take it back." He jokingly threatened, using her line.

Laughing, she allowed for the views to distract her once again – snapping a few more pictures.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"We should come back here. Make it a tradition." She said, as the treaded through the small tide pools, pointing out the small school of fish that swam along their legs every now and then.

"Holding you to that."

The two had many traditions that they had set in place, one of them being spending a week during their summers camping with both of their families. A tradition that began when he had tagged along during one of her family trips – it wasn't long until his family joined in the following year, their fathers instantly becoming friends during the first day.

This would merely be another trip that they would continue on until they were old and grey.

"Do you think our kids will be friends? Like us?" Y/n asked aloud, stopping him in his tracks.

"I haven't really thought that far."

A lie.

He has.

Though, he would much prefer if their kids were siblings rather than friends.

They say a man knows in an instant whether they want to marry a girl or not.

Mingyu was no different.

He remembered that day so clearly. She had dragged him along to the mall to help her find the perfect dress for Jeonghan's wedding, and with nothing better to do he had agreed.

She had stepped out of the dressing room in a one shoulder satin maxi dress, fitting perfectly on her body. It was a simple dress, no ruffles, no sequins, no lace. Just a plain satin dress; but somehow she made it look like it was worth far more than the tag attached at the seams.

Mingyu remembered his heart skipping a beat that day, the breath in his lungs didn't seem enough as he took in her beauty.

He didn't know what triggered it, maybe it was the constant talks of the wedding, but his brain was instantly flooded with the thought of being the one at the end of the aisle – waiting for her as she made her way down in a white dress.

This soon then spiraled to thoughts of a married life with her; spending the rest of his life with his best friend.

It took him nearly a week to snap out of this day dream, his mind constantly wandering back to that day and the whirlwind of emotions that hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Have you at least thought about what you want for dinner?" She laughed; bringing him back to reality.

"Poke probably." Mingyu muttered.

"Sh.. the fish can hear you." She feigned shock as another school of silver fish swam by her toes.

"Yummy yummy fish." He cooed.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Sitting atop of the roof of the car, the two picked at the various small bowls for cubed fresh cut of the day that they had picked up from the local market – humming in content each time they took a bite.

Instead of meeting the rest of the group for dinner, Mingyu and Y/n agreed it would be best to simply pick up the poke he had originally suggested as opposed to racing back to the city.

Watching the sunset while parked by the sand was far better than the chaos, anyways. The two needing a break from all the voices that seemed to always talk over one another.

"Hold still," He picked up his phone and pointed it at her. "This would look good on my story."

While they sat in silence, digesting the dinner they had just finished not too long ago, Mingyu couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked under the soft orange and yellow hues of the sun that had dipped halfway into the horizon – illuminating her face in a new light.

Both metaphorically and literally.

Without a second thought, the girl listened to him – holding her pose of looking straight into the shoreline, a soft smile on her face. "Lemme see." She held her hand out as he handed her his device. "Send this to me."

Mingyu swallowed as his heart battled with his brain to do the unthinkable.

Maybe it was the fact that they had spent the whole day alone, acting as though they were still around their friends – pretending.

Or the fact that this his trip had given him a glimpse of what his life would be if they were actually together, the flirting, the hand holding, the soft whispers, waking up to her in the morning; the sweet moments he yearned for.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he's been wanting this for so long – unable to hold off any longer.

"Bug?" Her head tilted to the side, seeing the gears turn behind his eyes.

There goes that nickname.

The one that they have sworn to use just as part of the act that soon became a part of their daily vocabulary. Even when it was just the two of them.

"Let me just–" His mumbled, leaning down – which wasn't hard as they were already only inches apart, capturing her lips in his.

She didn't pause.

She didn't push him away.

In fact, she kissed him back.

Bringing a hand to cup her face, Mingyu moved his lips against hers slowly. He had been dreaming of this for a while now, and he could have sworn he thought their first kiss would be much rougher – thinking he would be hungry for her lips.

But this moment was delicate. He knew that it could all come crashing down the minute he pulled away, so he proceeded it with caution – his thumb caressing her cheek as his tongue swiped her bottom lip for permission.

She allowed it.

Mingyu's head was spinning at this point, wanting nothing else but to stay in this moment forever.

But he knew he couldn't.

They needed air.

Pulling away, Mingyu swallowed; preparing himself to receive an earful from her.

Instead she sat in silence, blinking at him.

He had fucked up.

"I'm sorry." He croaked.

Mingyu knew that if he wasn't the first one to speak up, she would let the tension swallow them whole – leaving them to drive back to the hotel without uttering a single word to each other.

"I think we should head back." She cleared her throat, scooting towards the moon roof they had slipped through.

"Hey–" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She turned her head, lips pale. It was clear that she had regretted what had happened, a lump forming in Mingyu's throat as the worst had finally come.

"What?" Y/n asked softly.

"Just wanted to see if you were foaming at the mouth." Mingyu joked. "Since I have rabies and all..."

A small smile formed on her face, a wave of relief washing over him. "You're so fucking stupid." Y/n ducked into the car.

"No rabies?" Mingyu called out.

"Get in the damn car, Mingyu." She called back.

They were going to be alright.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

For the first time in a while, she was confused.

She should have listened to the voice in her head when it had warned her that pretending to date her best friend was a bad idea.

At her ripe age of twenty six, she should have known this would happen.

Maybe it was the close proximity, or the fact that they had spent the whole day absentmindedly pretending to be a couple despite none of their usual audience being around, or maybe it was that he kissed her.

No.

They made out.

Either way, her mind was in a mess.

It wasn't like she's never had feelings for him before.

But the last time didn't count.

They were in high school — and everyone had a crush on him.

It was tiny crush that she had soon gotten over when she met her first boyfriend.

But this time was different.

There was more on the line.

Their friendship, their whole group's dynamic.... and Seungcheol.

The man who had been the main reason why she was in this predicament in the first place.

A part of her wanted to dismiss the moment atop of their car as a moment of weakness, the sunset and island hypnotizing the both of them.

Besides, it was Mingyu. He had plenty of girls in line, waiting to get a chance with him.

He must have simply been caught up in the moment.

If it was anything genuine, he would have acted differently instead of jumping back into the sense of normality as they drove back to the hotel.

But no, he made a joke out of it all.

It was a mistake to both of them.

But another part of her wanted it to be real – falling into the trap of their own acting.

While he had excused himself to the hotel gym, to work out with Joshua and Soonyoung, y/n was left with her thoughts – wanting nothing more but to silence it all.

She didn't want Mingyu, even if his actions was everything she wished for in a man.

It was– It had to be Seungcheol.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

It was as if the universe read her mind, opening the door to see him standing with a plushie in hand – nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Hi." He greeted softly, holding the t-rex stuffed toy out. "I uh– it reminded me of you."

If her mind wasn't a mess before, it sure was in pure chaos now.

It reminded him of her.

She recalled back to the one good week they had. No fighting, no tears, no mixed signals.

She had come down with a nasty cold and he had doted on her while she was bed ridden – staying over at her apartment to nurse her back to health.

They had spent that whole week binge watching all the installments of Jurassic Park, cuddling on her bed despite her protests of not wanting to pass whatever virus she had come down to him.

He didn't care for it, showering her with kisses.

"Thank you." Y/n accepted the plush.

She picked up on his nervousness, stepping aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his neck – trying to find the right words to say. "I– I want to say sorry. For all of it. The pain, the confusion..... I– I'm sorry for being a dick."

"It's fi–"

"It's not." Seungcheol shook his head. "I had some senses knocked in me and–"

Y/n watched as he licked his lips, pacing in front of her before he came to a stop.

"It's you." He breathed. "I– I choose you."

Her world came into a halt.

The metaphorical glass shattering.

"What?"

"That night, when you asked me to choose, I– I shouldn't have hesitated. I should have stopped you. I'm sorry." He continued, pain evident in his eyes.

He was being genuine.

Y/n tried to search for any signs of lies on his face, unable to comprehend the words that left his lips.

This was the moment she had finally been waiting for, but why was she so afraid?

"I know an apology can't fix it. But if you'll allow it–" Seungcheol hesitantly took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "If you'll take me back, I'll spend however long trying to prove that it's you."

taglist closed

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken / @naturelvrgfstealer / @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter / @musingsofananxiouspotato / @f4iryjjosh / @gatorgirl007 / @girlwithimaginarybiaslist / @daisawa / @ttragiquee / @luchiet / @loveforred /@vannabanana1995 / @uniq-tastic / @porridgesblog / @haolistic / @bbl32 / @calumsfringe / @alsktudy / @chansbaybygirl / @alwaysalmostthere / @listxn / @soupbinlily / @hanniebaby95 / @yonabutnotyuna / @buffhoshi / @kawennote09 / @wwwellacom / @hanniebaby95 / @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

[sqquidzz]

How would kny characters hurt you in an argument?

Includes: Tanjiro Kamado, Kyojuro Rengoku, Giyuu Tomioka, Sanemi Shinazugawa

A/N: Hello readers! This is an idea I got from a hc post on here, I'm not sure who made it but I give credit to them for this hc idea. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

KAMADO TANJIRO:

I feel like most arguments would start because of Tanjiro's protectiveness of his friends

He would probably start scolding you for doing something he thought was reckless while fighting a demon

Especially if Nezuko we're to be the one to save you and get injured, he would probably be pissed off

Tanjiro is the type of person to bottle his emotions up, so he really just snapped at you

He seems like the person who yells and cries during an argument

He would bring up the fact that you had jumped into danger without thinking, calling you selfish for thinking only about the battle and not of your friends

If someone had gotten injured protecting you, like Nezuko, she wouldn't be able to say anything since she was healing and unable to stick up for you

You would just be too shocked to even say anything to defend yourself, along with everyone else, since no one has seen Tanjiro like this before

Once he finishes, he simply excuses himself quietly, saying that he's tired from dealing with this

Bonus!

Zenitsu would immediately rush to your side to comfort you as tears spilled down your cheeks

This would be especially hard if you had past problems with arguments and yelling

RENGOKU KYOJURO:

Now Rengoku seems like a type of person to be less of a yelling type at the beginning, but slowly builds up his anger to the point that he starts yelling

Usually the arguments are about how Shinjuro treats Rengoku and Senjuro, with Rengoku insisting that he can convince his father to be better

You try to tell him that Rengoku should ask for help to deal with his father, but Rengoku stubbornly disagrees

His demeanor during arguments is different, his eyes looking darker and it seems like he loses his friendly glow

When Rengoku argues back, he usually uses something your sensitive about, like if you had a bad relationship with your parents

He would claims that he's at least trying to fix his relationship with his dad, hitting you hard and causing you to go speechless

rengoku usually just stomps away from the fight when he's done saying his mind, leaving you teary eyes and with a broken heart

TOMIOKA GIYUU:

Giyuu always wants to avoid arguing as much as possible, always shutting you down when you want to talk about some problems

This causes you to get frustrated and start bombarding him with questions, like why is he avoiding their problems

Giyuu seems like the type of person to talk more than yell, but his voice is still strained as if he's holding back from yelling at you

Giyuu knows exactly where to hit you to make it hurt, taunting you about problems that you could never solve

His words would go to the point that he makes you burst out crying and run out of the room

He immediately regrets whatever he said in the argument, and ends up going to bed alone, covering himself in the sheets as tears of regret slide down his face

Bonus!

Giyuu wouldn't be able to face you for a few days after the a t in fear of hurting you again with his words

It takes a lot of reassurance from you to get him outside again

SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI:

Sanemi is the type of dude yo go all out during arguments, yelling and screaming at you, even sometimes going as far as you throw things into the ground in rage

You both seem like you're at each other's necks, not backing down from proving your side right

Sanemi seems like the type of person to call you degrading names, such as coward, selfish, etc.

You try to stay calm at first, but you have yo resort to yelling to get your point across

Sanemi is usually arguing to you about staying out of his and Genya's relationship, saying that it is non of your business

You end up running out of breath before he does, simply listening to him yell at you for a few more minutes before he storms out the room and slams the door

By the time he's gone, tears are already streaming down your face, breathless and tired from screaming your lungs out as you collapse to your knees, sobbing

[dark666posting]

Stress Relief

Innocent!Virgin!Reader x Dark!Eddie Munson

TW: NON CON, NON CON!!********

It's been a long week. College enrollment on top of job searching isn't boding well for Eddie. You notice he's been on edge for the past few days and it's only getting worse as time goes on. He's lashed out at almost everybody but you, including his band and DnD club members.

The others ask you what Eddie's damage is, but you're as clueless as they are. Knowing how sensitive you are, you decide to keep a little distance between yourself and Eddie, certain you'd cry if he were to snap at you. He's only ever done it once before when you accidentally dropped his guitar while it was in his case. You were helping unload for a show and he went off. It makes you embarrassed to remember, so you'd rather not repeat it.

That wishful thinking doesn't last long. You get out of your last class a little later than usual, not realizing your presentation went over the time limit. Eddie, who is usually your ride home, taps his foot impatiently in the parking lot.

"Hey, Eddie! Sorry I'm late, we-"

"Don't worry. No one's day moves unless you say so, princess." He huffs, looking straight ahead, avoiding looking at you at all.

"Eddie... I'm sorry." You stand with the door open, unsure if you're still welcome in his van if he's this upset with you.

"Are you just gonna stand there? Is it not enough that I waited for you, we gotta waste some more time?" He tosses his hands up and your mouth hangs slightly open in shock. He's never been this kind of person, he must be going through a lot. You feel terrible for him, it must be hard. You quickly climb into the passenger seat and he sighs an exasperated "Finally."

"Eddie," you try to get him to talk to you. You're hoping you can help get to the bottom of all his stressors.

"What, Y/N?" He pinches the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb as if he's already more annoyed than he's ever been. It makes you feel small.

"A-Are you okay? I know you've been stressed and I-"

"Oh, you know I've been stressed? Thank you, Y/N, for having eyes," he laughs through the anger. "What if instead of pretending to be my therapist, you just sit there quietly while I give you another free ride home?"

You gasp, unsure what you did to warrant this kind of treatment from him. You turn your attention to the road ahead as you try to hold back your tears. Your unsteady breaths are as quiet as you can keep them, but he hears you anyway. When he glances over and sees the tears finally overflow past your lashes, he sighs, shaking his head. You feel humiliated. Unbeknownst to you, and honestly news to him, seeing you cry makes him... Incredibly aroused.

Eddie delivers you to your house and speeds off before you can thank him or apologize or anything. You feel a hollow in your stomach. You don't want to lose your best friend, but you're far too sensitive to be talked to like that. You disappear to your room to cry and change into your pajamas. You plan on spending the entire rest of the day and night in bed.

You're relaxing in your room, listening to your favorite Blondie cassette, and getting ready for bed. You had half expected Eddie to call, but he doesn't. You know you'd forgive him in an instant if he'd just call. You turn off the lamp on your nightstand and settle into your plush, pink bed. Sleep takes no time to find you, you're drifted off into a deep slumber in just a few minutes.

In fact, you're sleeping so deeply, you don't notice the sound of your window being jostled open. A cool, nighttime breeze wafts through your room as a curly-haired figure climbs through. Eddie carefully closes the window and steps toward you where you sleep. He hoped you'd be awake, but he's not sure why. He didn't plan on apologizing to you. He stares at you for a while, reaching into his pants to palm himself over his boxers.

"Fuck," he whispers. Eddie didn't realize what it would do to him to see you laying braless in your skimpy, pink silk pajamas, surrounded by your pink and white bed set. You're like an angel. All he can think about is how pretty your crying face looked earlier today. The cool breeze from the open window has hardened your nipples under your top and Eddie can't help but rub his thumb over them gently. They become even more pebbled from his touch.

Eddie stifles a laugh of disbelief as he watches the rosy blush rise in your cheeks. As if no longer in control of his actions, Eddie unfastens his belt and frees his erection that's straining against his boxers. He inhales sharply through his teeth as he strokes his shaft a few times before taking your sleeping hand and limply wrapping it around his length. He strokes himself with your hand for a while before becoming a little bolder as his arousal swells.

Carefully, Eddie takes your head to the side and gently slips his tip past your lips. The wetness of your tongue is enough to send him over the edge, but he holds back. That's it, he's caving. He throws his shirt off of himself and dips into your bed beside you. Instinctively, you cuddle your back into him, subconsciously brushing your ass against his exposed cock.

Eddie reaches between your legs to strategically rub your clit so you'd already be wet for him. You're sound asleep, but moaning like a whore being filled from every angle. He's mind blown hearing your innocent lips release such vulgar whines. He whips your shorts and panties off with ease and positions himself at your dripping hole. Just as he slips it in, your eyes shoot open as the stretching pain tears you from your sleep.

Your fight or flight response tries to carry you away, but Eddie's grip around you tightens. He continues rutting into you, releasing sensual deep breaths down your body.

"Shhh, baby. You're okay. You're okay," he whispers sweetly as if he's not forcing himself inside you.

"Eddie?!" You gasp in disbelief and betrayal. "Eddie, please! It hurts!"

"Shut the fuck up." He grips your hair, pulling your head back so he can watch the tears well in your eyes.

"Eddie!"

"What's wrong with you? Just help me destress a little, okay? That's what friends do," he coos in your ear, not letting up.

"But... It.. hurts..." You sob.

"Why the fuck does it hurt so bad? You're not a virgin are you?" Eddie furrows his brow, unsure how you of all people could go this long without having sex. You are gorgeous, after all.

You don't reply, letting Eddie know that yes, you are. Well, were. Tears fall down your face as you close your eyes. At first, he feels bad, but it quickly fuels his fire when he thinks about the way he's ruined you for anyone else. He picks up his pace, breaking your heart further as you watch him relish in robbing you of your virginity.

Eddie withdraws from you for only a moment before climbing on top of you and forcing your legs open in front of him. He slams back into you, stimulating your clit with his thumb. You brace yourself by holding into the bars of your brass headboard while he fucks into you with no emotion, no love, only anger, and lust.

Eddie feels his climax coming so he places a firm palm over your lower abdomen as he fucks you. The new friction builds an orgasm in you at an inhuman pace.

"Don't cum until I tell you," he demands dryly.

"Eddie, please stop..."

"Don't. Cum." You try to do as he says, fighting for your life to withhold your orgasm before he allows you to climax. His thrusts are rough and mean, feeling as if he's tearing you apart from the inside.

"Now," he breathes, allowing you to release. You flood him where he stands when you release, drenching your pretty little, pink, gingham bed set. Eddie pulls out and strokes himself, cumming all over your face and chest. He's breathless, staring at you with a smile. Something he thought he'd never see is his innocent best friend covered in his cum.

"E-Eddie..." You sob, staring at him through one eye as the other is covered with the evidence of Eddie's visit. "What did I do?" You sob.

"Shhh, shhh. You did amazing. Don't cry, look how much you enjoyed it." He touches the drenched blankets and traces his fingers up your legs. You shudder, pulling away from his touch.

"You... I didn't..." You try to find your words.

"Don't start acting like you're too good for it now. I'll be seeing you next week, okay? This is how you're gonna help me manage all this stress." He starts getting dressed, leaving you filthy and fucked out.

"I-I don't want to..."

"Oh, please. You're not gonna make your best friend suffer like this, are you? Besides, you don't really have a choice, do you?" He smiles at you, warmly. It's confusing and unsettling.

The rest of the week, Eddie seems completely back to normal. He's mended things with all his friends. You watch them in the lunchroom as you contemplate eating lunch outside or in a bathroom instead of taking your trademark seat right next to your best friend. Eddie catches your eye and waves you over. You do as you're told, why do you do that?

You flinch as you try to sit too fast, still healing from the internal thrashing given to you by Eddie. He smirks as he watches you avoid eye contact. He'll be sure to address that at your next session.

[seungminnie-meong]

roommate ateez reacting to you dealing with mental illness

Your roommate Ateez finding out/reacting to you having a mental illness. GN reader for all, Feminine clothing in Wooyoungs, makeup in sans.  CW for mental illness including depression, bipolar/mania, self-harm (if you're sensitive skip San and Mingi) , and eating disorders/body dysmorphia (if you're sensitive skip Wooyoung and Jongho)

Hongjoong was never one to pry. He usually minded his own business, and you minded yours. That was how the two of you worked so well as roommates. But one day, he couldn’t shake the notion that something was wrong. It was nearly 7 pm and he hadn’t seen you the entire day. He decided to go out and pick up some ingredients to make dinner for the both of you, as he hadn’t seen you eat at all so far today. When he came back, you were still holed up in your room, so he decided against his non-prying nature, and gently knocked on your door. He heard some quiet shuffling, and after a few moments, a tired looking you opened the door. He smiled, glad to know you were okay.

“I bought us some stuff to make dinner, I know you haven’t eaten all day. Do you want to help me?” He offered gently, and you nodded. You were slightly embarrassed to still be in your pajamas at 7 at night, but Hongjoong understood. He never asked any questions, he just quietly sat beside you and made sure you always knew you didn’t have to be alone through this. He knew you didn’t always feel like talking about it, and that was okay. The two of you stood quietly in the kitchen while you chopped vegetables and Joongie cooked up some meat. He stopped to play some music over the speaker he kept in the kitchen. As Billie Jean played through the speaker he began to sway and dance to the beat and you just giggled at him. He grabbed both of your hands to get you to dance along and you just laughed. He may have been a professional dancer but the way he was dancing now was definitely intended only to make you laugh. You began to dance along with him as best as you could, abandoning your chopped vegetables. Hongjoong started jumping around, singing into his wooden spoon as a mic, putting on a complete kitchen concert. Before you know it, you forget what you were even sad about to begin with. 

Seonghwa was caring by nature, and he was the first to notice when you started to have a depression spell. He knew he couldn’t stop the depression from coming on, but he could help you by making sure you were well taken care of. The first day he noticed you sleeping in until noon, he was doing your laundry for you and reminding you to brush your teeth. The day he noticed you hadn’t bothered with eating any real food, he was filling up your water bottle and placing it on your nightstand and cooking ramyeon for the two of you for dinner. But, the day he heard you sniffling and crying behind the closed door of your room, he was at a loss. He felt helpless. He knew how to take care of your needs, but when it came to helping you with the actual depression, he was stuck. He sat in the living room, conflicted. He had never dealt with depression before. He had his bouts with anxiety occasionally, but this was a different kind of beast. He thought back on what helped him when he felt sad. He walked back to his room and pulled all the blankets and stuffies off of his bed and marched back to your door, knocking twice before pushing the door open. “Hwa? What are you doing?” you said through teary eyes. “We're gonna build a fort.” “Why?” You choked out a sob, and Seonghwa fought the urge to not cry himself. He was a pretty emotional guy, and you were important to him. Seeing you cry made him sad. To distract himself, he got busy pulling blankets over your furniture, slowly making the fort come together. After a minute, you stopped sniffling, getting up from your bed to help him. It was so absurd that you really had no other choice but to help him, I mean he was in your room after all. As the two of you worked together to put your pillows and plushies in the final places and admire your work, Seonghwa pulled you into the fort and into his chest to hold you tightly. “I know I don’t always know how to help you feel better or what to say, but I want you to know I’m always here for you no matter what, okay?”

Yunho was an early riser. He liked waking up early to get a run in before he started his day. So imagine his surprise when he woke up to find you still awake from the day before. He leaned against your doorframe in his workout clothes, looking at you confused. “What are you still doing up? It’s seven in the morning.” You just put your phone down and shrugged, a yawn escaping your lips. You knew exactly what it was, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Yunho. The pharmacy hadn’t been able to fill your meds yet this week and you could feel a hypomanic episode coming on. Yunho was somewhat aware that you had bipolar type II because he knew you took medication every day, but he didn’t really understand what it was like if you were off your medication. Your thoughts had been racing since early that day, and you’d been going nonstop since you got home from work, cleaning your whole bedroom from top to bottom. Yunho looked at you quizzically, not convinced. “I just can’t sleep,” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either. He looked worried for you. Ever since you moved in together, Yunho was like a big brother to you, he was always concerned about your mental health and making sure you were taking care of yourself. “Alright, if you’re not gonna sleep, at least keep me company on this run.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you up out of your warm comfy bed with many a complaint from you. But you couldn’t deny that the idea of a run sounded nice to get some of your energy out. You pushed him out and shut the door behind him so you could pull on some shorts and a hoodie with some sneakers, and he met you at the door with two full water bottles. The two of you kept an easy jogging pace and got to watch the sun come over the horizon, which was really beautiful. By the time you got back, you could finally feel tiredness seeping into the back of your mind. When you woke up from your couple hour nap on you and yunho’s shared couch, he was freshly showered with wet hair in a hoodie and sweats playing on his playstation. You sat behind him and leaned on his back; cheek squished against his shoulder. “Feeling well rested?” you felt the reverberations of his chuckle through his back. “A little bit.” you yawned. “Thanks for making me go running with you, I couldn’t sleep because the stupid pharmacy hasn’t been able to refill my meds this week and I've been feeling so manic.” You explained. He reached around and placed a hand on your knee. “You could’ve just told me, you know I’m always here to help you. I know I don’t always know what to do but I’m always here for you bubs.” 

Yeosang is insanely empathetic, so there’s no hiding from him. The moment the two of you moved in together you realized he was always going to notice every little moodswing. It took some time before he became good at dealing with them, because at first he was far too shy to approach you about it, so he just sat idly by and worried about you whenever you got sad. After some time, he got braver, sometimes knocking gently on your door with a warm cup of tea and your favorite chocolate. After a while, you guys finally became friends, and Yeosang decided he wasn’t going to let you just suffer in silence, so he would invite you out with your other mutual friends and try to get you out of the house, even against his own introverted nature, just to get you to have some fun. But sometimes, there were really hard days, where you could hardly drag yourself out of bed. Even still Yeosang was right there beside you with a cold glass of water and some funny videos on his laptop to watch with you until he could get you out of bed. He knew everything was a matter of baby steps on your depressive days. And on manic days, like today, he was always there to listen to every racing thought, there to help pull you back to reality when you got too excited, and remind you to eat, shower, and take your meds. Yeosang even put a big calendar on the fridge with all of your therapy dates and medication refill times so you wouldn’t forget. He was your rock. Today, he was away at work, so you were trying your best to stay stable while you were alone. You were so ecstatic when you finally heard the front door open, you ran down the front hallway, sliding on the hardwood floor in your socks into Yeosang’s arms, giggling all the while. He gave you a big hug, patting your hair. You were so grateful for him.

You and your roommate San had made a little trip to Ikea to get a new vanity for your bedroom, and he had agreed that he would help you put it together. You had been slowly redecorating your room for the past few months now, and you were quite happy with the way it was coming along. The new vanity was just one final piece that you needed, along with a new bed frame and a couple of posters you had already ordered. You and San were dumping out the contents of your old vanity one drawer at a time, making piles of what you did and didn’t need to keep, as you hadn’t cleaned it out in as long as you should’ve. It had been probably 6 months or longer since you had cleaned out the vanity, and some of the makeup in it had probably expired by now, so San was checking the expiration dates on each product and making piles of what was still good and what was bad. You were going through other junk drawers including perfumes and skincare and doing the same. Suddenly you heard a gasp from San. You looked up to find a small bag in his hands, a bag you unfortunately recognized. “Y/n… What is this?” San muttered, a waver in his voice. It was a bag you used to keep razor blades in, and you hadn’t used them in a very long time, but you had never gotten around to disposing of them either since you had honestly forgotten about them. “Sannie, it’s not what it looks like, I promise i’ve been clean for a long time.” He met your eyes, and you swear you saw his eyes watering just slightly. “You promise?” “I swear. I’ll throw them away right now.” He wipes his eyes and stands, marching over to your bathroom. You follow behind him, and he dumps the contents of the bag into the toilet. He gives the blades a little wave before flushing them down. “Fuck those guys.” “Agreed.” “Promise me you’re okay, though?” “I promise, Sannie. “ He pulls you into a big hug.

Your roommate Mingi had brought you along to a party to get you out of the house. You didn’t mind it, you enjoyed parties, but since you had agreed to be the designated driver, you were holding back from drinking tonight. That didn’t stop you from dancing and having fun with Mingi and the rest of his friends. As the night continued on, you found yourself in a little group with Mingi and some of his other guy friends. Mingi was a little buzzed, and he was getting loud. Some of his friends were joking about Mingi being emo, and he loved that. “I love emo. I wanna be emo.” He slurred just a little bit, and you smiled at him. One of his friends looked over to you and sneered. “Your friend here is already emo, though.” The guy said. You were confused, there wasn’t anything inherently “emo” about your appearance, you were wearing a black sweater, but that was the extent of it. The guy and his other friend snicker, before the other guy lets out a joke. “Wrist check, am I right?” You were appalled. You had no idea how they knew about that, unless one of them saw your scars by accident when you hadn’t noticed. You were pissed. Mingi was just confused. You stormed off without a retaliation. You went out into the front yard to get some fresh air, and Mingi stumbled after you. “What happened? What does that mean?” He slurred. “Don’t worry about it Mingi. They were just being mean,” you explained. “I’m confused.” He whined. You turned to him and just looked at him with a pained expression. He really had no idea. “Look, Mingi, they were making fun of me for having self-harm scars.” You explained. His jaw dropped; he was shocked. He grabbed your hand. “I'm so sorry, Y/n, I had no idea. Those guys are assholes. I should go in there and-” “Mingi, no. It’s over now. Let’s just not hang out with those guys anymore.” “Deal. Are you okay? You don’t- you don’t do that anymore, do you?” He sounded concerned, like he had suddenly sobered up in the last few seconds. “I’m okay. It’s been a long time, but I'm doing better now. I just have old scars now, so now all I have to deal with is stupid people.” You told him. “That's good. I’m proud of you. And next time I’ll beat anyone’s ass that mentions them.” He grabs your hands in both of his and leads you back into the party. 

It was nearly two weeks before halloween, and you and wooyoung were in a rush to find the perfect costumes for a party you were both attending. Wooyoung, as your best friend and perfect roommate, was trying to convince you to wear something sexy and revealing to impress this guy you knew would be attending the party. He had helped you pick out a somewhat skimpy angel costume, a cat costume with more leather than you knew what to do with, and a cop with a quite short skirt. Honestly you felt a little ridiculous. Wooyoung was trying on all sorts of scary masks and hyping you up about your costumes, but you were worried about how you’d look in them. You found your way to the dressing room while Wooyo looked through various prop weapons. You breathed in deep and let it out, looking over the costumes Wooyoung picked out for you. You know he just wanted to help you look hot, but you of all people definitely weren’t going to look like the models on the packages. Your body just didn’t look like that. As you pulled on the first costume, a short white dress with cute little angel wings and a little angel halo headband, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It looked alright, but the dress didn’t fit quite right. It didn’t lay the way it was supposed to and it rode up in certain places and it just didn’t look the way it was meant to. With a huff, you pulled the dress back over your head and moved on to option two. It was a leather catsuit with some cat themed accessories. You pulled on the catsuit, but it was the same thing as the dress. It just didn’t look right. Something about your body looked off. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You felt tears prick at your eyes as you pulled the catsuit off, getting ready to pull on the third costume. It was a short cop dress, and you just couldn’t stand the way your legs looked in it. At this point, you were really upset, and you hiccuped out a sob. You covered your mouth with your hands, hoping Wooyoung wouldn’t hear, but to no avail. In seconds, he was knocking on the dressing room door, worried. “Y/n?” Are you okay?” He called out for you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m almost done.” You told him, but your voice was thick with tears. “Are you crying? Let me in.” You sighed but you opened the door for him anyway. He caught a look of the cop costume you were wearing and gave you a once over. “Woah. You look hot. Why are you crying, babe?” He enveloped you in a hug. “I don’t feel hot.” You hiccuped into his shoulder. He hummed in understanding. “I get it.” He placed his chin atop your head. “Your brain is telling you one thing, but I just want you to know you look so incredibly beautiful and this costume would totally kill any man who saw you in it, including me.” “Thanks, Wooyo. I just don’t think I’m confident enough to wear this kind of costume yet. They’re cute and all, but not for me.” “Then does that mean we can wear one of those stupid cheesy couples' costumes?!” He grinned at you. “Fine, Wooyoung.”  

You wake up with a splitting headache. You immediately regret drinking as much as you did last night. It was fun while it lasted, but it had horrible consequences this morning. There was a cold bottle of water and ibuprofen on your nightstand, probably courtesy of your angel of a roommate and designated driver from last night, Jongho. You down half the bottle with the ibuprofen and try to sit up out of bed while the room spins. Suddenly, you feel the urge to vomit, so you rush to the bathroom. You lose all the water you just drank, but your stomach was empty otherwise, so it's just water and bile. You feel tears prick at your eyes. You hate throwing up. You’ve been doing so well in bulimia recovery for so long and this feels like a setback, you know you can’t help it because you're hungover, but it makes you want to cry. You throw up one more time and let out a sob. The headache only pounds harder against your skull with every heave, until you hear a knock at the door. Jongho shouldn’t have to see you in this state. You try to bite back another sob, but he pushes the door open just a bit. “Are you alright? I thought I heard crying?” He questions. “I’m okay. Just hungover.” You sniffle. He pushes the door the rest of the way open and hands you another cold water bottle. “Why are you crying, angel?” He squats down in front of you and gently caresses your face. His hand is cool against your warm face. “I just don’t feel good, Jongie.” You hiccup. You don’t know how to tell him you’re terrified of throwing up. “Why don’t we get some food in you and maybe that’ll make you feel better? Hmm?” He gently grabs your hand and pulls you up from the bathroom floor. He pulls your arms over his shoulder and leads you into the kitchen, setting you in one of the chairs. He even brings the trashcan over to you just in case. He pulls out all the ingredients to make your favorite waffles. “I’m just scared of throwing up. I’ve been doing so well for so long and I’m so scared this is gonna set me back.” You explain once the room stops spinning. Jongho sets down the spatula he’s holding. “I get that. I just want you to know I see how well you’re doing and I’m here for you. We can get through this together. You can do this; I know you can.” He sets down a plate of warm chocolate chip waffles in front of you and you feel the nausea leaving you. “Thanks, Jongie.”

[crepesuzette2023]

I dont think I've ever heard the take that girl seems to be about Paul, I mean, it makes sense absolutely, but can you expand some more?

Gladly, Anon.

Rob Sheffield (Dreaming the Beatles) said he thinks Girl is about Paul in this episode of @anotherkindofmindpod. The episode is actually an in-depth discussion of In My Life, but Girl came up a number of times, since it's also on Rubber Soul.

I thought Sheffield's statement was interesting, and not in a silly “John saw Paul as a girl” kind of way.

Summarizing mercilessly, and taking a few steps back before returning to Girl:

RS argues that Rubber Soul marks a moment when the Beatles’ songwriting moved from a commercial/craft perspective towards a more open/confessional/personal tone, In My Life being an example of this, with John examining his feelings for all his friends and lovers, and singling out a new kind of love that transcends the loves he’s known before. According to RS and the hosts, In My Life is not only addressed to Paul (I personally feel it could also be about Julian, or about both; as someone who writes, I really feel the “a piece of art is never about just one thing” argument)— it also, by summoning a group of dear people and openly expressing his feelings for them, emulates Paul, who, in John’s eyes, is the more extrovert and socially comfortable of the two. The song is a two-fold tribute.

Girl, still according to RS, forms a matched pair with In My Life, because it, too, concerns complex and intimate emotions; in this case being unsettled by a complex, alluring and confusing person (Paul/the girl). It's a non-generic, specific, highly personal song you wouldn't have found on earlier albums. (You Won’t See Me is Paul’s reply to John.)

Whether you agree with these interpretations or not (by the way, instead of trusting my summary, it’s probably a better idea to listen to RS and the hosts in their own words), I’m happy to see the acknowledgment of the depth of John and Paul's relationship.

RS also makes a beautiful point about If I Fell (which, as we know, John saw as a continuation of In My Life): That John and Paul, as always, tell the truth about each other by the way they sing together.

(Cue the If I Fell/marriage vows quote from Gould’s Beatles bio).

Ian Leslie (no introduction needed) was more direct in his “Hidden Gems” episode on @onesweetdreampodcast. He stated he believes that If I Fell was written for Paul, commemorating their Paris ‘honeymoon’.

And look—people are free to go as far as they want in how they interpret all this, but I personally feel it liberates and elevates the discussion of their songwriting and relationships to include the romantic love or friendship or X or [redacted] or 'tender and tempestuous' but ‘not sexual as far as we know’ relationship between John and Paul as one of its many possible inspirations.

It just feels silly to me to ignore it or act all offended at the mere suggestion.

And when RS writes in Dreaming the Beatles “For John, Paul was the boy who came to stay; for Paul, John was the song he couldn’t make better,” it just feels right.

My two cents.

P.S. When I'm inclined to accept that Girl is about Paul, I immediately want to ask follow-up questions. Because this is a song about a fraught relationship, right? In what sense did John try to leave Paul? In what sense did Paul promise him the earth and cry? I know it doesn't have to be literally true, but some extrapolation, please? This didn't happen in the episode—obviously, since its focus was another song, In My Life. PPS: I wrote this in a bit of a hurry so feel free to get back to me for clarifications, etc.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Little Menace

Shang Qinghua was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, and this time it wouldn't be because of the double workload they had saddled him with after the peace between demons and humans.

Does anyone know how to do their taxes? Really? 

Dismay aside from being the only one who had a minimum of logistics skills, Shang Qinghua was now regretting his fortune and, above all, certain choices he had made in the past, in another life.

Beside him, Liu Qingge said, "Is it them? What happened?"

"They encountered a quarry full of anti-time gems," Shang Qinghua sighed, wondering for the umpteenth time why he thought it was a good idea to create a stone to make one appear younger, in a world where no one is ugly or ages.

It vaguely resembled a subplot with a human milf that Luo Binghe added to his harem, a non-cultivator who kept herself young and beautiful thanks to the timeless gems, and who had therefore attracted the attention of the emperor.

Even he had discarded that plot, although the fans wanted milfs – as if demon women were not worth as milfs – because it was simply ridiculous.  Now, however, his choice came back to bite his ass.  He didn't believe that anti-time gems were still a thing. Nor that Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu all had to end up in a cave owned by the original milf, and thus be reduced to two children aged six and eight.  If that was a wife plot, why were both rejuvenated? He had been wondering about it for hours, but the System, the asshole, was silent, completely useless. 

"The anti-time gems? Hadn't they disappeared?" the cultivator asked with a frown, and he sighed resignedly, "It seems that Shen-shidi and his husband were lucky enough to find the last strand that still existed." "We should destroy them all. It's dangerous." "If you want to try, go ahead, shidi. But you risk reducing yourself like that too," Shang Qinghua pointed out. The demons themselves sent their elders to extract the gems so as not to risk being reduced to babies in swaddling clothes, which the milf also did: she bought the decrepit slaves and then sent them to dig in the cave. Once they were all young and strong again, she resold them at three times the price she had paid for them—a real businesswoman.  "We can't do nothing! How long will they stay like this?" He quickly calculated, "The exposure lasted a few hours, they did not ingest the dust of the gems or cut themselves... If all goes well, a few months." "Few months? Are you fucking kidding me???!" He rubbed his ear, "Don't scream, shidi! It's not my fault!" In reality, as the author, it was partly his fault. He had decided that it was better to ingest the powder of the gems to make the effect last longer and that if you were only exposed, the effects varied from a few hours to months.  The milf's touch of genius was to sell the slaves far, far away so that no one could come to her when suddenly there were old men in bad shape in place of the young people they had bought.   Now that he thought about it, it was fortunate that he didn't include it. Using it only for useless papapa scenes and relegating it to the harem once it had its usefulness would have been such a waste for such a woman. Liu Qingge's tone meanwhile had frightened baby Luo Binghe, who had started crying. Shen Qingqiu, though a little stiff, had begun to console him, giving him his handkerchief to wipe his face. "Thank you, pretty gege!" Luo Binghe thanked him, and Shen Qingqiu blushed. An honest blush took over his whole face. Even as a child, he was a total loser. Liu Qingge had meanwhile become impatient, "I will take them to the sect leader. He will surely know what to do and..." A loud smack interrupted him. The cultivator had made the mistake of getting too close to Luo Binghe, probably to grab him by the scruff of the neck and take petty revenge, but Shen Qingqiu had been quicker and had beaten his hand with a fan, looking at him like scum. "Don't touch him, weirdo!"

[matan4il]

Update post:

In Hezbollah's rocket attack on Israel's north today, one person was killed and at least 9 are injured. All are from Thailand. I got to guide groups of students from Thailand, who come to study agriculture in Israel, and as part of their degree, they also work in the fields. They were so lovely, and they absolutely don't deserve this, for having tried to better their lives and the lives of those around them. Which is making me think of this vid from Oct 7 that I just can't forget of a Thai man, who was murdered by Hamas terrorists, footage I will never forget for as long as I live. You could argue that Hezbollah's rockets didn't mean to target Thai nationals, but the terrorists on Oct 7 KNEW that they were torturing (they took their time sadistically toying around with the man in the vid) and murdering non-Israelis. They KNEW they were kidnapping non-Israelis. And they still did it. Remind me, which part of Palestine is Thailand supposedly occupying?

On Thursday, in an independent shooting terrorist attack in Eli, two Israelis were murdered. They have been identified as 16 years old Uriah Hartom, and 57 years old father of three Yitzchak Zeiger. The Palestinian terrorist was identified as a Palestinian police officer, affiliated with Fatah (the party which currently rules the Palestinian Authority), not Hamas. He had previously been imprisoned by Israel twice, for dealing in illegal arms. The owner of a hummus diner, located near the gas station where the terrorist attack took place, was by chance on a break from his reserves service in Gaza. He heard the shots, came out, fired loosely at the terrorist to attract him away from civilians, went back inside, took a better shooting position, and finished the terrorist off.

A 57 years old man from the Israeli city of Ashkelon was stabbed during an independet terrorist attack in the area of Hebron on Saturday. The terrorist has been arrested.

Globally, we continue to see a rise in antisemitic incidents, including violent ones. Over the course of the past few days alone, we got an attack in Switzerland (in Zurich, where a Jewish man was stabbed on Saturday eve. The 15 years old terrorist was arrested by Swiss police. Please remember this for the next time you see Israel being vilified for arresting teenage terrorists), an attack on a Jewish man exiting a synagogue in Paris, France on Friday eve (Israeli TV reports that the terrorist called the victim, "a dirty Jew") and a Muslim former patient who shot his Jewish dentist to death, not too far from San Diego in the US (yeah, sorry. I don't buy that the moment a supposedly disgruntled ex patient decides to kill his Jewish doctor just so happens to be a moment when anti-Jewish violence is being justified, normalized and rising everywhere. A part of how antisrmitism, homophobia, racism and other forms of generalized hatred work, is that even when grudges are personal, these forms of hate give the hater socially acceptable terms and tools to openly hurt the person they hate, more than they would have dared to if they had a grudge against someone who wasn't a member of a marginalized group. Apparenntly, I'm not the only one who thinks the antisemitic angle mustn't be left out).

Meanwhile, Israel has arrested the members of a terrorist squad in Hebron, which was inspired by ISIS. They had already managed to produce 100 explosive devices, and we can only imagine how many lives have been saved thanks to these arrests.

This is 33 years old Dennis Yakimov.

He was killed the other day during the fighting in Gaza. Every day, Israeli soldiers are dying there, and Israelis watch the news, and hear their family members mourn them, and cry over the loss. IDK if any words I write here can express the grief, so today I'm just going to share this short vid of Dennis' only daughter, Danelina, speaking at his funeral:

IDK how people can actually think that after the loss, pain and horror of Oct 7, Israelis are putting themselves through this added loss, pain and horror just to see more Palestinians killed. And that's what they mean, every time they ask, "How many Palestinians have to die..." as if the goal was ever dead Palestinians, rather than Hamas being destroyed and Israelis knowing that Hamas could never perpetrate another massacre as it did, also aiming to deter other terrorist organizations such as Hezbollah from trying such a massacre, knowing that if they did, Israel wouldn't relent before they're destroyed, too. I think this kind of question can only be asked by people, for whom we're not really human beings, and the devastating pain that we feel over our fallen and their loved ones, who will never be the same, really doesn't register.

May Dennis' memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[teaandmisanthropy]

We had to say goodbye to Snookums a few weeks ago, on August 16, 2024. These are some of the last pictures I have of him.

He was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as a result of (probably) lymphoma and had been losing weight for a couple of months and his digestive system was deteriorating.

He got lots of attention and extra treats at the end of his life, and he lived to the age of fifteen and was a happy, goofy, lazy snugglebug who was full of affection for us and friendly to everybody, including multiple dog acquaintances. He was a devoted, biddable sidekick to the BB (Arwen) (2007-2021) and a wonderful adoptive uncle to Tristana (2020, adopted April 2021-). And despite being a mellow fraidy cat who had always been submissive before, he didn't hesitate to become the senior boss cat and tell off Anubis (who is young and unusually strong and was about half again his size) and actually defended Tristana from Anubis's attempted attacks a few times when he managed to breach containment.

Snookums was my baby, and what you might call my familiar animal or one true cat, from the time we brought him home. He spent three days hiding in a blanket cave in the sauna at our old apartment in Turku and wouldn't eat for over 24 hours, until I finally got him to by feeding him from my hand.

He was afraid of crackling noises and especially plastic bags and loved chasing/ collecting hair elastics and chewing on rubber bands and silicone oven mitts and old wired earbud wires, all of which had to be hidden from him. He loved kisses and his method of kissing was to headbutt you in the head, earning him the nickname "butthead".

He was also the most talkative cat we had ever met when we got him, and used to meet me every time I came home and make a long speech that I referred to as the Kittysburg Address. He purred very loudly and was terrible at cleaning his own claws, which was perhaps partly because he was already missing a couple of the tiny teeth when we got him at age 1.5, but mostly because he was lazy. So he had to have toe gunk cleaned from his claw sheaths basically his whole life and he hated it, but was fundamentally non violent, so the most resistance he ever offered was occasionally squirming in a half hearted escape attempt.

When he was young he also used to wake me up in the middle of the night wanting to play, and I woke up many times back then to find his toys (usually hair bands and silicone oven mitts) in or around the bed. But even when young and irrepressible, Snookums was pretty lazy and spent much more time snoozing and snuggling than the BB, who often ran around bouncing off the walls without him, even though he was her constant companion and playmate.

In later years he got more lazy, as well as becoming more like himself in other ways (snuggly, silly, food-motivated), and he also acquired diabetes, which reduced his energy a lot. But he lived for about six years with his diabetes under control after his diagnosis, and was doing very well recently. The final illness was probably not related to his diabetes.

For many years, actually since he was very young, I used to periodically just start crying while I was holding him in my arms, because I loved him so much. The spectre of losing him someday, even when it was far in the future, was already scaring me. (We got him two years after the death of @waxjism's One True Cat, Lily, so this wasn't out of left field.) Maybe I did some of my grieving in advance. I felt like I didn't have time to grieve right after, but even though the sadness is massive, I have had an easier time adjusting my brain to the new reality than after the loss of past pets. Cornish rexes are very snuggly and affectionate cats and most of them spend a lot of time lying on people's laps, giving out hugs, basically, but Snookums is the only pet I've ever felt was comforting and soothing me just as much with his snuggles as I was soothing him.

[kaybreezy3000]

Bad Things (Five Hargreeves/Reader)

~Psychopathy is a neuropsychiatric disorder marked by deficient emotional responses, lack of empathy, the inability to distinguish between right and wrong, poor behavioral controls, and behaviors that contradict social norms which then commonly result in persistent antisocial deviance and criminal behavior.

Enter, Five Hargreeves, everyone's favorite little psycho.

(Chapter One and Chapter Two Post)

Summary:

Having been left in a new world with nothing, his mental state growing more and more dangerous, Five Hargreeves finds something he feels will keep him from going off the deep end, but just like in so many things he thinks that are wrong, the fact that he thinks this already proves he has.

Note~The female character is written so that she's part OC but easily filled in as you or reader insert. When we are in Five's side of things, the OC/Reader/You will be referred to as 'her/she/the girl.'

Characters: Number Five, Dolores, unnamed Female OC/Reader insert, Klaus, and Diego

Warnings and tags: Mental disintegration, psychological trauma, effects of isolation, masturbation, non-consensual voyeurism, explicit sexual content, bondage, POV altering, touch starved, obsessive behavior, inanimate object love, and many other sexually deviant themes all mixed with a lovely twist that you will hopefully enjoy...

-comment if you want to be added to tag list (New chapters will be added weekly and this one is 7 chapters total with a Word Count of just under 50K) 😉

Chapter One: Dark Side

Taking the stairs since the elevator is broken and he can no longer teleport at will, Five ambles, step by step, up to his apartment on the seventh floor. For a young man, Five feels so old and not just mentally like he actually is at the cognitive age of sixty. 

With no end of world event in the foreseeable future, as incredible as that is, living in Reginald Hargreeves’s ideal version of the world has left Five with next to nothing.

As far as the world’s concerned, Number Five Hargreeves is dead. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing because Five doesn’t want people to know about him being back, but it is a problem if you’re not dead and you need to find work to feed yourself.

If not for Klaus’s help getting him fake ids and a shitty job doing data entry in the basement of a huge office building, Five wouldn’t even have a roof over his head. 

Five’s polished black dress shoes sidestep around piles of trash as he listens to voices of people screaming and yelling at each other behind the worn and dented doors he passes on the way to his own.

He does not live in a nice building or a nice area of the city. His low-income housing is a far cry from the life he’d once lived behind the secretive walls of The Umbrella Academy. His childhood home still exists, though neither he nor any of his siblings are welcome there.

In the new world of Sir Reginald Hargreeves, the status quo remains as it was before, with most having very little, while a very few have a lot. This time Reggie himself has a lot more.

Nearly half the buildings in the city’s skyline bare Five’s adoptive father’s name, but it would do him no good to go to him for help. Luther did, and not even getting allowed to see their dad face to face, he got thrown out on the street by security guards in front of the glamours monstrosity known as The Hargreeves Internation building, which is Reginal's current residence and seat of power.

In this world, the relationship between the world-renowned inventor and his remaining adoptive children was severed years ago, just as it was in their real timeline.

Most of Five’s siblings had places to go though, and that was in part how it was so easy for them to walk away. They still had their various places they crashed at or rented.

For all Five knew, it sounded like Allison still had her life, including her daughter back, but besides that, he knew nothing about her. After turning on them, she didn’t look back. Like with her and most the rest of his family, it had been radio silence when it comes to communication with him since the day that they walked away to move on with their life.

As much as Five needed it in that first year, after everything their father did to them, he vowed he’d never go to him for help again, so he remained dead. 

After carefully traversing the disgusting hallway that is the only way to the place that he calls home, entering the one room flat, Five is greeted with the polluted smell of city air blowing in from the window he left open.

He sees Dolores waiting for him.  She is still tucked in under the blanket on his bed, just where he left her.

‘I am so glad you're home! ’ she brightly chirps.

Other than her and the sense of love and radiating warmth that Five creates out of her, there is nothing here for him. Five has no one.

There is nothing of color, or personal flair or tasteful decor inside his residence. The furnishings weren’t even picked by him. They were discarded here. They are faded, old, and beaten and used, just like him.

Five feels ancient and worn, but physically he is not. His costly tailored suits are fitted to perfection, and they only make him stand out even more in stark contradiction to everything else within his personal space.

“Hello, Dolores.” 

His reply is flat and lifeless, but he can’t help it.

Terribly thirsty, Five crosses the room, moving to his kitchen. He reaches up, taking a milky looking etched glass out of the cabinet, then he places it under the facet at his sink.

Five took the subway most of the way home like he always does, but he still had to walk six long blocks after that. He tips back the entire glass of water he just poured, chugging it in a matter of seconds. He can’t help the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth when he thinks about what he did for his family and the heavy cost he’s paid for it. No matter the amount of time that passes, it never seems to make his resentment fade.

Since being abandoned by his siblings in Oblivion Park the night their lives were given back to them by Allison and Reginald’s collaborative effort to fuck them over, Five has been dealing with the repercussions of his many mistakes and doing it alone. It has taken less than two years for Five to age from a scrawny pubescent thirteen-year-old, to a man in his very early twenties. In this utopian world, The Commission is no more, and the treatments they gave him back when he was theirs have completely run their course and are no longer unnaturally crawling through his body keeping him from aging.

After being plucked from the apocalypse, The Handler wasted no time adding to her strict requirement that he worked exclusively for her despite the fact that his contract didn't say that. She informed Five that since she was the only reason he was saved, not only was he hers, and not just in an advisory capacity, unless he’d prefer to die alone, he’d be undergoing various improvements. Not thinking what that meant, being all that mattered was that he saves himself first so he could save everyone else, he agreed. 

The very day he got picked up, after that conversation and being treated to his first real shower in forty years and a real meal that he embarrassingly devoured like the starving man he was, he foolishly started to think things were actually going to be okay for once. Then, with that silly notion still tickling at his brilliant yet still somewhat childlike mind, things changed very quickly.

The Handler informed Five that he was scheduled for operations starting immediately. When he nervously declined, saying he didn’t want them, she tartly replied that she’d be happy to take him back to his wasteland and cockroaches, and that’s when Five realized he held absolutely zero power in the hasty agreement he’d made.

Through her perfectly fluid, red lipped charm, The Handler laced every word she ever had for him with contempt and malicious intent as she continuously threatened him with thinly veiled cruelty. Terrified as if he were a helpless child, though schooling his wrinkled features not to show it, Five followed her like a lost puppy, sickness from the amount of food he’d just eaten adding to his terror as they stripped him naked, then strapped him down to an operating table. 

With little explanation other than adjustments were often made, especially to older recruits, Five fought every instinct not to blink himself to safety as he impotently watched the room fade away from the sedative being injected in his arm.

Even if he had blinked or could have at that point, there was nowhere safe for him to go.

Waking in recovery, at first, Five didn’t feel any different. He was extremely sore and bruised, but not different. Not till later was he told he wouldn’t age, being that he’d been given a treatment that would prevent it for many years to come. When it started to wear off, and that would be based on factors they didn’t make known to him, he’d be given more, thus allowing him to continue his service for them indefinitely even though he’d only agreed to a five-year contract.

Five realized that now that they had him, they weren't going to just let him walk away, but still he held on to the hope that he'd figure out how to get back. Defiantly he marched on thinking he'd get the better of them.

Their special therapies made him stronger, more resilient, and he even healed quicker because his metabolism was working much faster than it was before. It all seemed like a good thing.

Five wanted to live.

He had to figure out how to get back to his family and save them and everyone else. He needed time, just a little more time and he’d have it. He was finally strong, not sick, not starving or fighting everyday just to make it to the next.

This was good.

Only it wasn’t.

There was more they did to him that day, only he didn’t know about it till later.

When asked if he could perform the tasks required to work for them, Five had confidently said yes. He told his recruiter that he had killed before.

Through their missions as children, the idea of killing was something that never made him think twice because it was all in the name of good. They were the heroes. Dad had told them they were born extraordinary for a reason. They had a purpose. 

Five always thought that the purpose was to help people. Later he realized that was very naïve of him to think because Reginald only had them on missions that benefited him in some way. They did not go around saving the world from the everyday tragedies that were always waiting around every corner.

Not till they ended up in the Sparrow's world and after Reginald drained them to nearly the point of death did Five realize the purpose of them being born the way was so they could be used like extraterrestrial batteries to fuel the reset of the universe. 

Just like with The Commission, everything with Sir Reginald Hargreeves was done for a reason and those reasons held many gray areas.

As months passed and his training with his new employer completed, Five found out just what it meant to work in corrections for a time preservation organization whose goal was to maintain what they felt was the generally accepted timeline. Human life meant little to nothing to them on a one-to-one scale. That meant more death. Lots more death.

Each time that Five pulled the trigger or had to take someone’s life, watching the color fade from their purple oxygen-deprived flesh when he squeezed the life out of them, he told himself it was all to get back. When he got back, he’d figure this all out. It would be okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Neither was Five. 

Along with their other thoughtful enhancements, The Commission gave him something that would never wear off. By the time he finally was ready to make the enormous jump through time and space to go back to his family, Five was not the same person. He hadn’t been since he woke up on that operating table over four years before. That was because while he was out, they blended his DNA with that of several well-known notoriously brutal serial killers, and it was all in the name of making him a better assassin. 

Five had become mercilessly cold, and not the way he was as an arrogant child who thought he was better than everyone. No, this near emotional opposite of snobbery and having any sort of compassion for his fellow man was different.

In four years, he’d killed so many times he’d stopped counting. In the beginning Five still felt it, the remorse, and the nausea when he thought of what he’d done. He’d break down in fits of tears and shuddering sobs when he was alone in his tiny Commission assigned apartment, nearly suffocating from the weight of his shame. 

They were killing innocent people and he let them turn him in to the deadly weapon they were using to do it.

By the time Five was done, his mind had altered how he processed things. It happened in part because of the alterations they made to his DNA, but it was also his own survival method, allowing him to continue; to keep waking up and to keep fighting for what he had to see through to the end.

When The Handler gave him a job as she ran her finger condescendingly across his cheek in that wicked way of hers, it let him know that he was nothing more than her pet and her vicious executioner. Five accepted it. He even relished in the peaceful quiet of death and the simplicity of delivering it so efficiently.

The Handler was extremely pleased at how she’d manipulated him so easily. Five knew that, but even knowing he was being used, Five was proud of himself. He savored her praise like the lost child he still was inside. Even old and gray, Five was still the boy who longed to be noticed and loved.

When Five took out the board of directors, he’d done it for her, but he’d also done it for himself. In that moment, his mind was on another level of depraved, finding joy in the sick pleasure he felt as the blade of his ax sliced through their flesh and the spray of the warm blood spattered his face.

Even before that happened, Five had lied to Luther when he told him he didn’t enjoy it and that’s because he was trying to pretend that he was the person he wished he still was.

Even as he lied, Five's words came out lack of any emotion, dead and toneless. Luther didn’t seem to notice. Like the rest of his family, they didn’t know him anymore. They had no idea how different their dad's Number Five had become, and they didn’t seem to care to know him, though all Five had ever wanted was to get them back.

Five was aware that killing was one of the only things that made him feel alive, but he was too focused on trying to save the world to dwell on it. Everything kept falling apart and with more important things on his mind, he simply didn't have time to think about it.

Now there was time. 

Turning from his sink, Five walks back to the sole armchair in the middle of the space that serves as his living room. He slips off his black suit jacket, draping it over the back. 

‘I missed you,’ Dolores says, her voice in his mind so hopeful. Five glances her way but can’t keep her eye.

His reply comes almost too quietly to hear. “I missed you too.”

Purposefully avoiding her, Five wanders over to his small kitchen table. He didn’t even bother to turn on the light when he entered his apartment. This entire time it’s been dark, save for the dim light filtering in from his two small windows.

Pulling out the single chair, he sits down on the cracked vinyl cushion, dropping his head in his hands as he thinks about what he is doing.

Looking up after a minute of trying to get his head straight but failing, Five’s eyes train on the widow in front of him. His nicotine yellowed curtains wave gently from the air moving in. Beyond his window, across the alley, the occupant of the adjacent apartment is home. Five knew she would be, that’s why he left the lights off. It’s also why he left his window open. 

He can hear her voice. It’s faint as she talks on her phone, but Five can hear it and make out parts of what she’s saying. 

She’s talking about work like she often is.

The girl comes to the window dressed in her uniform from the job she works at during the day. She dumps the water from her watering can in the flower box attached to the sill.

Five knows that she can’t see him, but he doesn’t move a muscle anyway. He holds his breath.

She’s so close.

He could almost touch her.

Five can see her hair flutter in the wind before she laughs at something the person on the line must have said, then she leans back inside after plucking off a few dead buds, flicking them to the ground below.

The girl is young, similar in that she’s not much younger or older than Five's physical age. At his mental age, she is not someone he should be interested in. She is not someone Five should be watching like this, not that he should be watching anyone, but like so many things about himself that can’t control, he is interested in her.

Everything about her is animated and full of life. 

She’s the opposite of him.

Five is almost completely empty and deeply numb inside.

His fascination with her is in part because of that. He’s aware of this on some level, but he also realizes it’s for other reasons.

Bad reasons.

The immorality of doing this is almost no more than a ghost in his mind at this point. The more it happens, the less Five cares that it’s wrong.

Everything about him is wrong so why torture himself about one more thing?

With a dull, lifeless expression washing over his features, Five continues staring out, analyzing her every move as she moves about her small apartment. 

‘You can’t keep doing this. You need help,’ Dolores warns sharply, the same way she’s been saying it since he started this, the same way she says it every night. 

“I don’t need help, Dolores. I appreciate your concern, but I am fine,” Five grumbles back, not bothering to turn towards her, or finishing by lying to her again, telling her that it’s just a diversion, and it’s nothing more. 

Normally, when he comes home, Five would feel something when he sees the long-time love of his life. He still does, but the more he watches this girl, the less he’s been able to pretend with Dolores like he always has. It disturbs him but he can’t stop.

‘You aren’t eating enough, and you didn’t sleep again last night. I am so worried about you. I love you,’ she adds with that sound of unsuppressed fear in her voice that’s been getting worse and worse when Five comes in late, zombie-like after being gone at work all day and then wakes up acting almost exactly the same way.

Though it hurts him to do it, Five ignores her, pretending he didn't hear. Brushing the curtains aside even more, he lets himself become fully engrossed in the life across the alley.

Not long after being left by his family, Five had gone to Dolores, finding her standing tall on her pedestal in the used clothing store. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t take her then, that didn’t happen till later. He tried so hard to be normal and he knew that having her with him wouldn’t help in that endeavor.

After months of hardly hanging on, sleeping at Viktor’s some nights, on the streets others, then finally scratching enough pennies to get by, Five finally got his own place. Here in this hell hole, Five found that his new chance at living a real life was not at all what he’d thought it would be.

This time the idea of retirement and hitting the road to find his next big ball of twine left Five unbearably uneasy. He couldn’t let himself give into the childlike notions he had before.

Five had nothing. He couldn’t retire. Even if Klaus had wanted to drag him along to find their birth parents or something else pointless again, Five wouldn’t have let himself be tricked into it this time.

Last time that happened, he’d had this strange glimmer of hope light up his heart. He hadn’t felt that in so long. It was like getting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it was viciously stripped from him again by impending death taking everything and sucking it into the mother fucker of black holes. 

Five was left in the dark again.

Now Five found himself feeling as alone in a world filled with people as he did in a world alone. He couldn’t figure out how to fit into society and that humiliating failure had him withdrawing inside himself even more. 

He tried to hold on to his usual anger, pretending it wasn’t his fault but even that failed him because he knew on every level that it was his fault. 

The isolation finally became too much for him, he snuck into the back room of that department store where Dolores lived. Not till the shop closed did he come out of hiding and steal her out of there, long legs and all.

She’s been with him again ever since, providing the love and comfort she always has. Only until one night, when Five saw the girl next door, Dolores had been enough to keep him satisfied and not feeling so alone. Since discovering this girl, a dangerous and obsessive pattern has developed. 

Every night when Five comes home, well after dinnertime, he leaves the light off so he can go to the table and watch the female occupant of the next building. She rarely shuts her blinds, and when she does, it’s not all the way. She may think nobody lives across from her because Five is gone all day and at night, even when he’s there, it looks like he’s not.

She may not care if someone is watching her, and that idea alone helps Five justify what he’s doing. That flawed perception of things is also making it easier for other thoughts to invade his already very fractured mind.

It started innocently enough. Curiosity mostly. She was pretty. Five told himself that it was normal to be drawn to beautiful things. She held odd hours, but she was almost always home for a few hours before bed when Five had nothing and no one else other than Dolores. To him, it felt like it was on purpose.

She’d either be home already or he’d get to watch her come in from one job, change for another, eat, shower, and go again. She’d water her flowers that hung in a box outside her window and then Five would get to be even closer to her. She’d even leave her windows open most nights, and Five would do the same, furthering the connection he feels is growing stronger with her.

Five believes that he knows this girl on an intimate level. He knows her name and where she works, and many other things about her.

This relationship is becoming real to him; as real as it is with Dolores.

Stepping out of what Five has determined is her bathroom, the girl bends down to pick up the towel that just slipped off her head. In doing so, Five gets a much better few of her ass that’s only covered by her very small underwear. If she’d just turn around, he’d see her breasts. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, “please turn around, for me.” 

She doesn’t, but Five’s right hand moves between his legs anyway. It always goes something like this. It starts as simple, silent watching, then as he justifies his actions with things that are entirely imagined, Five’s already defunct rationale dissolves completely. 

Five rubs his palm over the tip of his partial erection as it sits in a raised silhouette covered by the thin wool material covering his lap. Reacting to the pleasure of his own hand, Five spreads his legs wider, his fingers better working the hardening length as his lips slowly part to better accommodate his heavier breathing.

Five knows he could simply watch porn to take care of this perplexing and intensifying desire to be with someone real. It’s not like he’s opposed to it, it's just that this private show is for him and only him. This is special.

In his mind, the more he watches, the more he feels like this girl is part of his life, and that is the thing that he needs the most even though he can’t see the truth of it anymore. Intense denial and the refusal to see that he needs help, all comes from years of using this pattern to survive. It was even this way when Five was a child. Now it’s much worse and it’s fueling this fantasy, making him blind to the reality of what he is doing.

Five spends most of his days in a blur without sensation, existing but not living. But, deep down in a place he can’t open again, Five longs for something that he's only ever allowed himself to dream of.

Now, after everything that’s happened to him, Five is so broken he doesn’t know how to be with someone real which is making that dream feel impossible. He tells himself that it never really was possible; he's always been broken. This is all there ever will be. Just the idea of trying to open himself means letting someone inside and risking them seeing what he really is, and he can’t let that happen.

Five believes that he is nothing more now than a cold-blooded psychotic killer, living a meaningless life.

He can’t escape what he is, and he can’t go back to change it.

There is no one that can help him, and no one that would want to help him if they knew the truth about him.

This, what he is doing with this girl, is easier. It’s his only option. Five thinks he’s in control of it, just like with Dolores. Watching and touching himself like this, it’s enough. He won’t do more.

Five craves control and with this, he has it.

Now that he has her, Five is not alone. She is real, living and breathing. Five can even imagine the soft feel of her skin as he runs his hands up and down her smooth looking legs. He can feel her warmth on him, rubbing against his cock as he comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her in a dominant yet affectionate embrace.

Wanting to tease her, Five smiles a little and says, “I bet you just couldn’t wait for me to get home. You love me, and you love it when I do this to you, don’t you…”

In Five’s head, she giggles a yes.

The girl flips her head down, blow-drying her locks. Again, the view isn’t bad. She dropped the towel around her and put her bra on while inside the bathroom where Five couldn’t see it. He didn’t get the full show he’d been hoping for, but she’s still a sight in her matching set of very feminine undergarments. Five can feel his hands roaming over her, the delicate filigree stitch of the lace fabric the only thing keeping him from having all of her.

Teeth studding into his lower lip, Five unzips himself, pulling the heat between his legs free so he can grip the girth tight. Heels digging into his linoleum floor, his lips twist with a dark delight as his eyes narrow. 

She is all his.

The girl flips her head back up, straightening herself as she shuts off the hair dryer and starts putting on her makeup. Five imagines himself shoving her up against the small, cluttered counter in front of her.

She drops her head back against him, moaning his name the moment she feels his bare flesh pressing against her in that way that means he's seeking more than just to rub himself on her.

She likes that too, but Five knows that she wants all of him tonight.

Licking his lips, his eyes trained on her body, Five’s voice comes out sweetly menacing. “I am going to fuck to till you scream.”

She arches into him again.

Five’s hand works his cock, spreading his pre-cum under his fingers, but it’s not enough to let his hand slip and slide and he doesn’t care. He likes to jerk himself hard and with no regard for being gentle about it. Pain and pleasure are the only things that make Five feel these days and this will give him both fixes.

Five desperately wants to feel.

“I love your perfect tits,” he grates out through clenched teeth. Then, in his head, he leans over, biting into the soft flesh of her shoulder as he suddenly fucks up into her from behind. He’s railing her hard and fast, and in his mind, she loves it as much as he does.

Or maybe she doesn’t and that’s exciting too even though Five knows that is wrong. It really doesn’t matter, because it’s up to him to decide, just like it always is with Dolores. With his cock in hand as the muscles in his calves flex and burn while his heels squeak across his floor, it’s all up to him and him alone how he finds his pleasure. 

Five is mentally and physically free to be the vile creature he is with no judgment and no fear of rejection. 

A thin sheen of sweat on his brow, Five grunts as he aggressively pumps his cock. His ass cheeks squeeze and contract as his hips jut upwards into his own hand. 

When the sound of the girl’s ringtone plays out, sending an upbeat song blaring, she drops her mascara on the counter and picks it up. Whatever the caller tells her, abruptly causes her to alter her usual nightly routine. Normally she’d be home for another hour getting ready, but instead, she hangs up, comes out in her bedroom area and haphazardly throws on her clothes and rushes out the door, leaving Five literally hanging. 

Hanging on to himself that is, with no more eye candy to get off on. 

The moment she’s gone, the reality of what he’s doing threatens to swallow him whole. Just the idea of having to face it has Five’s hand slowing and his heart clenching in the start of a panic attack.

No, no, no, no…

“I am not-" Five’s words stick as his mouth fills with the thickness of his mortifying disgrace trying to choke him.

His hands both come up, yanking at his tie as if it’s the thing stripping him of his ability to breathe.

Five feels like he is drowning. His once revered mind feels like it's breaking in two as it's being flooded with shame and hate.

He does not want to be this person.

‘Five, it’s okay.’ Dolores calls out to him, trying to help bring him back from the dark surrounding him. ‘I am here. We will figure this out! Please, sweetheart, just come to me. It will be okay. We can make it okay again.’

Dragging himself out of his chair, Five goes to Dolores. Once next to his bed, with blurry eyes looking down at her, he kicks off his pants and underwear, then rolls himself over on his side, burying his face against the cool hard skin at her neck.

“I am so sorry, darling. You are the only one that has ever loved me… I am so sorry I am doing this to you. I hate this,” he cries, the air heaving out of him as he reaches down under the blankets, taking himself in hand again. 

With more wet gasps, his free hand runs soft and tenderly up and down under Dolores’s blouse, trying to show how much he loves her in the way he handles her painted flesh. Five whispers apologies and words of love as he finishes himself, part thrusting and part still using his hand, while moving himself up against her solid and unforgiving leg.

Five may be laying with the mannequin that is the loyal love of his life, pouring his love out to her, but in his mind, images of the girl across the alley play over and over again.

Chapter Two: I feel So Close

Like usual, the next morning, Five finds himself awake way too early. He hardly slept again. It’s hours before his alarm goes off for work. He is bare assed with only his dress shirt on, laying with his face settled on top of the unforgiving shape of Dolores’s hard chest.  

Drowsily stretching his legs under the blankets, he cuddles in tighter, unwilling to open his eyes but also unable to turn his overactive brain off. Then, as sleep further evades him, he begins to remember what happened the night before.

Five’s hand glides up Dolores’s arm, coming up to her face so he can gently run his fingers across her cheek the way she likes.

‘Good morning, Five ,’ she coos back to his tender show of affection.

Peeking at her from under the fringe of his ruffled hair, Five does his best to smile when their eyes meet, but it comes off uncertain because he feels so bad for what he did.

Five never wanted to be a cheater, but Dolores has told him time and time again that she wants him to find someone who can be there for him in ways that she can't, and if he did, it wouldn't be cheating. The problem is this is not what she meant. It’s throwing his dysfunction and failure in her face when all she has done for the last forty-one years is support him. Then, after making her watch another one of his many falls from grace, he’s got the balls to come to her as a whimpering mess, going even more dysfunctional when he sets about selfishly dirtying her thighs and her pretty new skirt with his traitorous seed.

“I am so sorry,” Five quietly breathes, sounding so discouraged. 

Already his free hand is inspecting the damage under the blankets. It's not like he hasn't done these kinds of sexual things with Dolores before, it's just last night was wrong on too many levels. Dolores can do nothing for herself, and his intense shame over the way he used her and his innate need to take care of her has Five quickly untangling himself from her body.

‘It’s okay.’

“It’s not,” he replies on the way to the bathroom to get soapy washcloths.

Once inside, Five accidentally catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and just that makes his chest hurt.

“You fucking, pathetic bastard,” he mumbles, cursing himself as he goes about getting the supplies he needs to help bring some dignity back to his helpless partner.

Coming back to bed, he sets his things down on the nightstand and then picks up his own rumpled dress pants off the floor. He zips himself in, trying not to think about when he unzipped last night, but it’s impossible not to. 

Eyes on Dolores, he rolls the comforter back and starts cleaning her. Once he has her legs shiny and cleansed, Five glances across the room to the nearest window. Behind the fluttering curtain, he knows the girl is still laying in her bed. With even more remorse threatening to pull him under, he looks down at Dolores.

“I’ll change you into some fresh clothes, strip the bedding, and then you and I can make breakfast together, and I’ll read to you till I have to go?” Five says it as a question, sounding so hopeful she won’t reject his attempt to try to be the man he used to be for her.

‘That would be perfect, sweetheart. I would love that.’ As soon as her reply processes in his mind, it instantly makes him feel better.

Five makes good on his offer, other than his own shower, he spends the quiet pre-dawn hours at her side. He’s sure to right the rest of the wrongs from the night before by dressing her in the next best thing he has for her, then he remakes their bed with fresh linens and blankets, and carefully tucks Dolores in so she’s comfortable as she waits for his return.

After leaning in and kissing her on her cool rosy cheek, Five leaves for the day, dressed in his usual all black three-piece suit paired with a fitted white dress shirt and black tie.

Feeling a little more like himself and that he can make it through another day, Five’s smile before walking out the door is real and full of so much love. “Thank you for loving me. You are all I need,” he says in his head, doing his best to will it true, but it’s sadly not.

Like so many times he’s lied to himself, Five tries very hard to change this new pattern of giving into his darker urges, but as the week progresses, he can’t help but fall victim again to his inappropriate indulgence. 

The rest of the week, he manages to achieve his nightly end goal of blissful release without falling into another dark hole of mortification like he did after peeping on the girl on Monday night. Five’s success not wallowing in utter misery is not good in that it only further ingrains his deviant behavior and his fantasy that there’s something building between him and the stranger across the alley.

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

Friday after work, Five is sitting in his armchair, disdainfully eyeing his brother as he goes about, snooping around his small apartment. Five lets out a sharp sigh, then tipping his head back, he takes a drink of the extremely delicious coffee that Klaus used as an excuse to drop by.

"I know you haven't talked to Diego in a while, but I saw him last week and he told me that he's still been keeping an eye on our dear old alien dad."

Every time Klaus pays him a visit this topic comes up and every time Five refuses to take the bait. "Diego should stop trying to play superhero. He should just let it rest. Dad got what he wanted. He's got the world by the balls and even though we mean nothing to him, he let us live. Story over."

"I don't know, man. Diego said that Lila has been looking into things with him lately and there's something weird going on of there at the Hargreeves International building. Like more than an alien overlord hanging out in his penthouse basking in how small all of us insignificant humans look down here on the ground."

Five couldn't look more like he doesn't give a shit, so Klaus moves on to other things on his agenda. “So, work is good, things are going well then?” Klaus asks, leaning over Five's bed to give a tress hanging from Dolores’s wig a twirl.

Loathing the way Klaus is touching her, Five’s face melts into a purely sinister looking leer, but his brother doesn’t seem to get the hint and keeps on with it, twirling away.

“You could care less about my work or if I enjoy it. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate good coffee, but you don’t need to stop by and check on me. You haven’t felt the need to pay me regular visits up until recently and nobody else in our family of idiot misfit toys gives a damn, so you are welcome to join them in that if you are simply coming by to try and piss me off, which you are.”

Five defiantly cocks his chin the same time one of his shoulders rises in that uncontrollable mad tick of his as he gears up for the rest of his dismissal. 

“In case you forgot, I am a grown man and I have been taking care of myself almost my entire life. I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” he bites out, teeth bared.

Klaus nods, his lips pursing as he thinks for a second. “Yeah, all true. But you are pretty damn young to be living all alone like this.” He smirks. “Well, sort of.”

“I know your miniscule brain can't comprehend this, but I am not a child, and I am not alone!” Five defends much too loudly and quickly, his sneer transforming into a deep frown instead.

After that excessive outburst, both Klaus and Five look at Dolores. Klaus dips closer to her and whispers something. Five can’t help but internally curse himself as he watches his brother openly taunting him. He knows it’s pointless to let Klaus rattle him, but he can’t help it. Everything is setting him off lately. One of the reasons he prefers to be alone is to avoid things like this.

Five’s already very small world is closing in around him more and more each day and the worst part is that he is accepting it.

Shifting in his chair, Five’s clammy hand comes up to his silk tie, fidgeting with it. Just having Klaus in his apartment is making it feel harder for him to breathe and he knows that’s irrational but it’s true all the same.

In Five’s mind, Dolores is looking back at him with her customary expression of agitation that she saves for when he’s doing something she’s not okay with, yet the reality is, her face always remains that of pleasant neutrality.

Lately, Five hasn’t been able to connect to her on the same intimate level he has been for most his life, but his troubled mind hasn’t given up on using Dolores as an outlet to try to get through to him. Though she is not real, Dolores is still where Five keeps what’s left of his heart, and she is his lifeline just like she always has been.

I want him to go, Five tells her in their way that needs no words.

‘You know that your brother was not in the best shape when he first got here. It’s not Klaus’s fault he wasn’t able to be around more. He had things to figure out too. Relax, sweetheart. Just take your deep breaths like we talked about. He’s just trying to be nice,’ she gently offers, trying to calm Five down.

Since Klaus is back to messing with Dolores’s hair, he doesn’t notice the look of fear in Five’s eyes as he stares at her, or that he’s desperately trying to do as she said and take long deep breaths to reign in this feeling of impending doom that’s looming over him.

“It’s not that I don’t believe that you are fine,” Klaus goes on, “it’s just I can’t help but feel like you need to get out, you know… Like join the world of the living a little more now that you can.”

Five’s fingers clench on the arm of his chair but he manages to keep his voice level and his expression blank by the time Klaus looks his way again. “I do get out,” he flatly replies.

Klaus laughs. “I don’t mean going to work or picking up takeout.”

Unable to maintain his façade of cool, nervously bending forward, Five’s free hand grips tightly at his knee. “Look, Klaus, these little interrogation visits of yours are a blast and all but if there is nothing else that you’d like to talk about, then you can kindly see yourself to the door because I have more important things to do.”

“Like what?”

Five doesn’t respond and that’s because he doesn’t have anything to do. Well, not anything that he is going to admit to Klaus anyway. Speaking of which, Five raises his arm, anxiously drawing his cuff up enough to see his watch.

The girl should be home by now.

She is waiting for him. He heard her telling someone on the phone this week that she has this entire weekend off. Five has been looking forward to this rare break in her busy work schedule ever since because now he won’t be alone the next two days.

It takes everything Five has not to get up and go check on her, but he refuses to even look over at his window while Klaus is there.

An ache like need to get his brother out as soon as possible has Five’s jaw tensing as he tries to think of how best to do it. Just thinking about missing his chance to spend time with the girl has Five fighting to keep his knees from bouncing. He's about to come flying up out of his chair and physically throw Klaus out on his ass.

'Just breathe,' Dolores reminds him.

Trying to listen and just relax but with his nerves still getting the best of him, Five looks extremely bothered when he finally comes up with his lame answer, but at least he is not going postal on the one remaining family member that actually remembers he exists.

“I am trying to finish a book due back at the library, and I’d like to do it before bed, so…” he reports with a jittery looking rolling of his hand, implying it's time for Klaus to move on.

To that, Klaus flamboyantly flaps his arms up, beaming ear to ear like he’s got the best idea ever.

“Hey, you can finish your boring book later this weekend. It’s Friday, why don’t you come with me, and we go out for a night on the town! Let your super cool big brother show you a good time, I’ll even pay, and I know all the best places. There’s this one club that has these naughty cage dancers and I know from what Luther told me from our Dallas stint that you like to watch the sexy lad-”

“You are not my big brother!” Five snaps, interrupting him. “I am older than you by nearly thirty years and something tells me that your idea of a good time is not even close to mine, so no thank you. I am fine, so stop acting like I am some kind of freak of the family that you need to check in on every few weeks so you don’t find me hanging from a rope in my closet!”

Instead of getting the picture that he is only making Five feel even more uncomfortable about his disastrous life, Klaus flops down on the bed, making himself more at home.

Wishing he could spatial jump, and even worse still having the instinctual reaction to try to but coming up empty handed, Five grates his teeth in extreme frustration, then abruptly stands up, violently crushing his empty coffee cup before he chucks it over in the kitchen sink.

Klaus can clearly see the very irate, no longer boney thirteen-year-old, ex-teleporting assassin, yet still very much a ball of rage version of Number Five Hargreeves coming for him. Even though he himself can die permanently just like everyone else, he obviously isn’t frightened by his brother because he continues snuggling in and fussing over Dolores, trying to style her glued on hair in a more tousled look.

Standing over him at the side of the bed, Five swats Klaus’s hand off his beloved mannequin’s shoulder.

“Stop touching her!”

Klaus holds his hand as if Five actually hurt him, even doing an overdone pout to add to his show of disappointment. “Five, this is exactly why you need to get out more. Dolores is great and all and I know you love her, but everyone needs someone a little more… Aah-uhm, you know.”

“REAL!”

Five’s voice is too loud, his heart is hammering, and his nerves are shot. He needs Klaus to leave. More and more when his brother stops by, it’s things like this. It feels like everything said is to remind him how fucked-up he is and how his life isn’t even a life.

“Five,” Klaus sighs his name, not at all fazed by him yelling, “ever since we got here, I am scared you’re becoming a very lost soul and that’s getting worse as the days go by. Now that you are free and you don’t have a world to save or an evil taskmaster from The Commission to tell you what to do, you’ve been hiding deeper and deeper inside yourself. I know this kind of thing, man. I have seen it and I’ve lived through some pretty fucked up episodes of depression. I can help you, and as a spiritual leader, you should know that I helped a lot of lost people find inner peace. The way we grew up, and then being a hitman and living a lifetime alone the way you did, it would mess anyone up. I just want to help is all.”

“Do you want me to feel worse about this? Is that what this is!” Five throws a shaking hand back over his dark hair, yanking it out of his eyes. With his hand landing on the back of his neck, nails digging in, he begins to pace.

Klaus sits up, his smile gone the moment he realizes that his brother is actually getting really upset compared to his normal kind of upset.

“Five, that is not at all what I am trying to do. I just want you to be happy. You are so alone, man. It can't be good.”

Five stops, spinning on his heel as he shoots death daggers back at Klaus. “I may be a freak as far as the world’s concerned, but the world can fuck off. Just stay out of it. I am not alone, and I AM FINE!”

Raising his hands in a placating gesture, Klaus tries to lighten the mood again. “I am so happy you are good and all that.”

Klaus gently shrugs, biting his lip, giving away that he is aware what he’s going to say next probably isn’t going to get the reaction he’s hoping for, but he says it anyway.

“Maybe you need just a little something else to add to all your good, is all I am saying. It doesn’t have to be going out and trying to make friends or getting thick into the enigmatic world of dating. I get that one is a complicated cookie being you are twenty-ish going on sixty or whatever, but what the chicks or guys don’t know about you won’t hurt them. Just don’t talk about all that.” Klaus grins and winks. “Unless you do go for the hurting thing, you dirty old bastard. There are clubs we can go to for that too.” Looking at Dolores he adds, “I bet Fivey loves to spank that sweet ass now that you’ve got one.”

“Fuck you,” Five growls.

Klaus keeps smiling at Dolores. “I guess that means no cute Fivey daddy kink for you, gorgeous. Too bad.”

“Stop talking to her!”

Klaus looks totally thrown. “Why, you talk to her?”

“Because she’s mine, you shithead!” Five barks back, not sure what else to say about his extreme distress over this simple visit and he’s already regretting saying that because it only makes him sound even more nuts.

“Come on Five… Just chill out. I am just joking around. You need more of that. I also think you could use a little spice in your love life, even if that means just right here at home in your own little safe world of just you, your hand and this lovely lady and any other lady or guys that you’re secretly pining over in that genius but gloriously debauched mind of yours.”

Stunned at his brother’s latest comment that is hitting too close to home, Five can’t help turning his body just enough so he can look over at the girl’s apartment.

“Not out in the scary world of real people, I mean,” Klaus tries to correct, not realizing that Five is misconstruing what he just said, thinking he was talking about the girl next door and what he’s already doing with her.

Biting back another curse, Five narrows his eyes at Klaus, part in fury and part in embarrassed confusion because the girl’s lights are on, meaning she is home, and he feels like his brother is seeing right through him.

“How about instead of spending all your money on all these sexy suits that you have more than enough of already, you spend some money on a really nice blow-up doll. Or even just something that vibrates or something else exciting that has a little more give and play to it.”

As Klaus spits out his brilliant idea, his smile expands, and it matches Five’s wide eyes.

“Get a flesh-light,” he cheerfully suggests, “or you can adjust things with your new and improved big boobs love hole inflatable and add some Velcro to her hands or something else creative so she can give you a little affection back in the way of loving plastic arms wrapped around you while you hump the fuck out of her. We all need a hug, buddy.”

With that, Klaus stands and puts his hands out acting like he’s going to hug Five, but just as fast, Five steps back out of his reach, looking utterly appalled.

Again, not getting it, his brother offers a silly smile as he shakes a finger at him. “Settle down over there, old-man kiddo. You know what I mean… I am just talking about something a little more stimulating. You must be so horny and bored in here that you are going insane.” Klaus’s smile falters as he takes in Five’s tiny home and lack of anything in it in the way of character or signs of life. “You deserve more, buddy,” he finishes, the sadness he feels for Five seeping into his tone even though he’s trying to smile still.

“The last thing I want, or need, is for you or anyone to feel sorry for me,” Five seethes while jamming his hands in his pockets. His eyes move to the floor as he battles within himself to control the surge of desire to lash out both verbally and physically. Keeping his brother safe from either of those things, Five swiftly motions for Klaus to go. “Just go,” he nearly whispers because he's trying so hard to hide the quiver in his voice.

“Five?” Klaus tries.

“NO! I am done! I have done enough for you and everyone. Just leave me alone!”

Five yells it so loud, Klaus flinches. “I am sorry, I wasn’t trying to upset you. I am sorry about everything. I am just worried.”

“Don’t be. I am happy,” Five lies. He looks up a few seconds after saying that, his face again the usual mask of indifference, but Klaus can see right through it and wishes so badly he had seen it sooner.

Not knowing what else to do that won’t anger Five more, Klaus moves to the door. “Fine… I get it. I am a dumbass, and you don’t need anyone, but I am here for you, man. I am sorry I haven’t always been there to listen, but I am now.”

“Sure,” Five says, before shutting the door on Klaus.

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

Five slaps down the deadbolt, then flips the lights off.

“That fucking, fucker !” he mumbles as he swiftly moves across the small space to the kitchen window.

With a huge sigh of relief, he sees the girl must have just got out of the shower. He didn’t miss it. The anticipation of that addictive rapture she provides is already settling Five down and also revving him up as he lowers his body into his favorite viewing chair.

Just as Five is thinking that he can escape into his perfect place, with her towel wrapped around her and wet hair dangling down her back, he watches as she suddenly spins around from her bathroom sink and then rushes out into her bedroom area. It appears that she is frantically looking for something. Her head pops up several times looking towards her front door, then as if giving up, she slowly walks over to it.

When she opens it, Five is greeted with an unwelcome sight.

“Who the fuck is that?”

Not able to understand at first, and obviously not getting an answer to his question, Five leans over his table for a better look. His girl just let some guy in her apartment. And she did it while in nothing more than her bath towel!

“No,” Five whimpers when he sees her smile at this asshole in the beaming way that he believes is something she only deploys for their interactions. She smiles like that when she’s laughing about something or dancing around her apartment loudly singing while she cleans, and none of these things have anything to do with him, but Five is too gone to see that.

Watching her sauntering off to her bathroom as the other guy is also hungrily watching it, has Five gritting his teeth. His fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. Though he doesn’t want to believe it, now that this other guy is there, Five is piecing together that she is not prancing like that for him. 

"It never was for you," a seductively cruel version of her voice tickles through his mind.

"Yes it was!" he growls back, unwilling to give up on his dream.

There’s even more burning pain as his neatly clipped nails carve half-moons into his flesh. His hands start to violently shake at his sides.

The girl says something to the guy then she shuts the bathroom door, blocking both Five and this new guy out.

As soon as she’s gone, her visitor starts meandering around her tiny place like he owns it, but Five is certain that he’s never been there before. He’s going about it not at all unlike what Klaus just did to Five, only the girl is entirely unaware of it.

The creep digs through her things, including her underwear drawer, taking a pair, and hiding them in his inner jacket pocket. Then he opens another drawer, pulling out a small jar that Five has seen handled by the girl many times. He greedily digs in, helping himself to the girl’s hard earned tip money that she saves all week to pay for her groceries.

Five’s entire body is vibrating he is so mad.

“I am going to fucking kill you, you piece of shit!” he hisses, eyes locked on the guy as he carefully studies his every move, learning any of his potential weaknesses.

Five easily determines this guy is an easy hit, no weapon other than his hands will be needed to end him. Five can already feel himself snapping this guy’s fat neck. There is no way he is going to let him get away with stealing from his girl. Coming over to take her out is one thing, and that’s bad enough, but taking her underwear without her permission! That means death and Five is going to happily deliver it.

During Five’s near manic episode of having mental and verbal conversations with himself, and also justifying reasons for killing this guy, he is conveniently forgetting the fact that he’s been watching her without permission and taking sexual liberties for himself from her body without her knowledge. With the way his mind has been working lately, it’s not at all the same thing. This guy has her trust and he’s in her home. Five would never violate her like the way this guy just did. He’d never even touch her let alone her things.

Focusing on the kill, a rush of adrenaline-fueled hatred brings that calm before the storm feeling that settles like an old familiar friend into Five’s mind and limps. His trembling fingers steady.

When his girl comes out of the bathroom she’s dressed in a flowy little skirt and a tight fit top with a unbuttoned cropped sweater over it. She goes straight to the guy with that adorably beautiful and innocent look on her face, and that manages to crack Five’s newly composed homicidal state of poise. He’s never seen her in anything that nice. Why doesn't she wear that stuff for him?

She lets the guy take her hand, leading the way as they disappear out the door.

It takes everything Five has not to spring into action and race out the door to follow them. He knows that doing that will only result in one thing, and that one thing is going to be bloody and brutal, but it would feel so good to see her date bleed.

To do that, Five would have to trail them, waiting for just the right moment. The idea of doing that brings back so many memories of his time with The Commission. It’s both sickening and sweet. He knows he could do it without anyone seeing. The girl wouldn’t even have to know. It would be perfect. But…

Fuck.

Even though this is what he was made to do, something feels wrong.

He’s never gone so far as to take this obsession with the girl outside of his apartment and hers. This is their special place, their own private world. But out there…

“It’s not real! She’s not yours!” his mind screams at him.

Five is all at once beside himself with how to process this unwanted mental intrusion.

That’s not true. She is real. What they have is real, his mind corrects. Him being a coldhearted killer is sadly real, but he hasn’t hurt anyone since he’s been in this timeline. He promised himself that he wouldn’t. He doesn’t need to anymore.

Five wants it to be real with this girl so badly and he wants to kill this guy just as much.

But none of it is real.

Deep down, Five knows that he has no right to feel this way.

“FUCK!” he screams in pure anguish, his hands coming up to his face, fingers digging in as his eyes slam shut. “Why are you doing this!”

The question comes out of his mouth, but it’s just as much for him as it is for her. Five can’t reason what’s happening to him or why she’d be with a guy like that over staying here with him. He’s not a good person, but he’d never…

Five’s voice comes out broken and quiet. “God, damn it.”

Yes, Five is a highly skilled executioner and absolutely thrumming with excitement over the idea of murdering this guy, but then the reality of what he himself has done to this girl is being thrown up in his face. Five’s insides are revolting against him and that’s because he has abused the girl too. He didn’t steal from her, but yet, he did.

Five may be experiencing an extremely dangerous dissociation from reality and doing so more and more as the days go by, but what happened with Klaus earlier and this mental battle with himself now proves that he’s still aware on some level of what he’s doing.

He knows it’s wrong.

He is wrong.

Again, that overwhelming hatred threatens to take his breath away. Five’s vision starts to flood with murky blackness coming at him from all sides. It’s hitting him hard and fast this time. He blindly reaches for the chair in front of him just in time to prevent himself from tumbling all the way down to the floor.

In a heap, eyes misting from terrified tears, Five folds in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs. His heart feels like it could burst right out of his chest.

“No, no, no,” he whispers in his downward spiraling mantra as he rocks back and forth. This time as Five slips away inside his own personal hell, not even Dolores is able to pull him back.

He can no longer hear her. It’s nothing but ash, blood, and regret.

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

Hours later, sitting at his table in the dark, Five brings his glass to his lips. The caramel-colored liquid isn't even giving him that delightful burn anymore as it glides down his throat. As if in slow motion, his blurred eyes drop to his hands.

They don’t feel like they are his.

They are, but they aren’t.

No matter how long he is in this new, younger version of himself, Five’s mind can’t weave together the new face in the mirror with the person he sees in his mind. When he was this age, he was not in good shape, but he was not this demon going around masquerading as a human. 

Seeing that his glass is empty again, Five reaches for his bottle of cheap whiskey with the intention of pouring himself more, but he’s denied for a second time tonight in his only remaining vice and that’s because there isn’t any left. It doesn’t really matter because Five already feels completely dead inside and it’s not the bad liquor making him numb.

When the girl and guy come bursting into her apartment not long later, Five is still sitting there in the dark extremely inebriated.

It appears from Five’s point of view that the creep’s mouth and hands are all over her in a very heated embrace. Five sits silent and still, watching as the girl stumbles backwards, her hand flailing out as if she’s surprised by her date's display of reckless desire for her. Then the guy forcefully kicks her door closed behind them, he swiftly scoops her up and he throws her down on the couch.

Five can’t even feel the rage, or the hate, or even the shame that he had before. He wishes so badly that he could, but it’s gone like the rest of him.

It appears to Five that the girl’s shithead boyfriend just manhandled her, but as far as he can tell, it looks like she’s totally into it.

The guy is on top of her in a flash, blocking Five from seeing her face as he pins her legs under his and he shoves her shirt up. 

Five’s eyes fall on her beautiful bare skin, mesmerized with the quick rise and fall of her chest. 

Her lover has one hand at her throat and the other around her wrists as he appears to smother her breasts in passionate kisses. 

The windows haven't been open tonight but in his head Five can hear her cries of pleasure as her date forcefully shoves her knees apart with one of his own, then grinds down on her. 

Five knows enough to know that doing that to her would feel so fucking good. Holding her under him... Directing everything...

It's too much for him to handle.

"Fu-uuck," he slowly breathes.

Being in control of everything is all Five knows when it comes to these things, so he easily lets the image before him become him. He is this guy. The only thing he would do differently is let his girl’s hands go free. He wants to let her feverously scratch and dig at his back as he presses his length between her legs. Five is so into this that in his mind, he can feel the pain of it.

He clings to that sensation, wanting to feel something. Seeing her body being treated in this way helps to pull Five back from the darkness in his mind, but it’s not the same as all the other times that he has been with her alone in their own unique way. This time she is a participant in the sexual act being played out before his eyes and Five isn’t sure if that’s why it feels different or not. 

Five realized the moment she walked out the door that this is not for him and everything about that feels horrible. Yet still he is still getting sexual stimulated by this, which is all the more fucked up and he knows it.

As silly as it is, the thought that she is doing this to hurt him seems all too real. Of course, she’d want to do that. Nobody can ever really love him.

Five lets out an absolutely maniacal laugh that fills his small apartment in the most horrifyingly unhappy way before he slurs, “Well played, honey. I deserve this and then some, but nobody is as good at hurting me as I am. It absolutely destroys me that you chose this loser, but I am not looking away. I know how to take a punishment; I have been doing it my whole life.”  

His hand slides down to his lap, the heavy feel of pleasure hitting him the moment the heat of his dick rubs against his equally hot palm. The full filling in his gut and the growing weight against his leg are all his usual physical reactions to seeing her in private like this, but this, her half naked under this other man as he aggressively dominates her, it’s bringing all sorts of disordered and confusing thoughts into Five’s mind. Something feels wrong, but he assumes it's him, so he begins to stroke himself anyway. 

“Fuck me over as you fuck him. I don’t care anymore, I can take it, baby,” Five grates out, his words running together as his hips begin moving up into his hand in their very practiced way.

Taking it further even than the couple across the alleyway have, Five hastily unfastens his suit pants and takes the end of his dick in hand, impatiently working it faster even though he’s not fully erect yet. In his semi-flaccid state, he tries to focus his efforts on the most sensitive area that's just under the tip, but his fingers won't cooperate because he is too shitfaced.

Unbeknownst to him, there is a disconnect happening between the alcohol and his hate for himself, his hate for this guy, and his new anger at the girl that he had tricked himself into believing loved him. 

To his dismay, it’s all manifesting in his inability to get rock hard like he’d normally be at this point. It’s just another thing he’s being denied, and Five is determined not to let go of one of the last things that makes him feel anything.

"Come on," Five urges both himself and them, his eyes trained on the other man who is also clearly fumbling as he tries to get his dick out of his jeans. 

If she wants to punish him, so be it. But he’s going to be the one to do the beating. Just like their relationship, it’s always been one sided, he only fooled himself that it wasn’t. 

He knows that he’ll hate himself even more for this, but in his screwed-up head, that’s exactly what he deserves. He wants to give in and just be nothing but the monster because it would be easier in so many ways.

After a minute or so of relentlessly jerking himself and finally getting hard enough that the head of is cock is pleasantly swollen and he's reaching close to his usual boner potential, the girl starts kicking her legs free. Five doesn’t grasp what’s happening, and that’s because he’s more focused on himself at the moment, rubbing the pearl of cum that's leaking out of him around and around as he pushes his thighs to lift and lower to the motion of how he envisions he's fucking her.

It feels so good, Five's eyes are hardly able to stay open as his head drops back and his mouth gapes and then closes and gapes again. He is making throaty grunting noises to the rhythm of his hand tightly jerking the base of his cock and the old chair he is on is creaking right along to his shameless song.

"Oh Fuck. That's it, suck it you dirty little slut," he groans.

In his mind, he just decided to pull out of her and then push himself straight in her mouth instead. The corners of his mouth pull back as a smile lights up his flushed face and that's because he just pretended to see that naughty twinkle in her eye that he can't get enough of. At this point Five has made up the idea that his girl is loving this and it's all a part of one of their normal little games which has him feeling much better about things. To Five, they just made up and it's going to be okay again.

"You are so perfect. Take me as deep as you can, baby," Five encourages her, his own hands working to give him that feeling of love that he so desperately craves.

When all at once, across the alley, his girl's actual man topples off her, falling onto the floor, Five can actually see the face he's been envisioning, and it doesn’t look happy at all and he doesn’t understand why. 

It looks like she is yelling as she pushes the guy off of her a second time. Her face contorts even more in the unmistakable look of pure rage. Even seeing this, Five still frantically searches for his release. All he needs is just a little more and he’ll be there in that addictive place where he can forget everything for just a few glorious seconds.

But then to his shock, the girl chucks the glass vase from her end table, missing her date by only a few inches. It smashes against the wall by the door and using the guy’s small moment of pause over that, the much smaller girl goes for another heavy glass object sitting among her other pretty things. This time she hits him with it in the crotch, and taking the hint, he bolts for her door. She’s right behind him, closing the door before flinging a chain lock across its bracket to keep him out. Even though Five can’t hear it, the visual slamming of her door feels like it sent a shockwave through him. 

He actually startles from it, his fuzzy mind coming back to him a little.

Five’s cramping hand on his shaft breaks its ruthless pace as he watches the girl slump her back against the door, her bottom sliding to the floor. She’s wiping her eyes.

Only now does Five know what he was missing in all this.

Watching her clean her own tears from her cheeks has Five suddenly realizing that she did not want what had just happened to her from the start, and that alarming fact hits Five like a ton of bricks. Following that drunken epiphany, an immediate explosion of hysteria hits him.

At the same time the girl gets up, crossing the room to pick something from beside her bed, Five hastily begins tucking himself back in his pants.

Five can hardly think, but one thing he knows is that this time he is going to kill that fucker.

As he races on unsteady feet for his own door, he looks back and sees the girl is no longer sitting there. He can’t see her anywhere inside her apartment but there’s no time to stand there and wait to see where she went. He assumes she went in her bathroom.

Five rips out of his apartment past the corroded elevator doors. He can hear the thing moving for once but since the lights still don’t work, he has no idea what floor it’s on. Crashing into a wall because he clumsily trips on some trash, Five curses himself for getting so messed-up, then takes off again, running as fast as he can to the stairway.

He bolts down the flights, his feet hardly making contact with more than a few steps on each one. When he hits the cement platform at the bottom and throws open the doors to the parking area behind their buildings, he comes out just in time to see his girl taking a swing at a flashy looking sports car pulling through the lot. 

She manages to clip off one of the side mirrors with her baseball bat and her date must be scared shitless because he doesn’t stop to have another go with her. Instead, he tears out on to the street, engine roaring and tires screeching. 

Hardly believing what he just saw and with his alcohol marinated brain not working even remotely right, Five comes her way.

“Holy shit,” he huffs as he tries to catch his breath.

The girl sees him coming, the look in her eyes so upset.

All Five wants to do is tell her he’s sorry. He wants to beg her forgiveness for being so fucked-up and angry with her that he didn’t see what was happening. He can’t believe that he just sat there, fucking himself while she was being sexually assaulted.

Her eyes grow wide as Five comes right up to her, but other than that, she merely stands there as if in a daze.

When Five makes the terrible mistake of calling her by name and then saying something about that asshole throwing himself on her like that, the girl no longer looks as unworried about the smartly dressed stranger approaching her in what she thought was concern.

“I don’t know you…” she says back, her confusion evident in her face and her tone. “There’s no way you saw…” She pauses but doesn’t take her eyes off the very unstable looking man in front of her. “How do you know that he did that?” she asks, terror washing over her face as she raises her bat.

Her eyes very quickly flit up then back down to the door Five just ran out of. As frustratingly slow as Five’s mind is moving, even he can tell that she is piecing together that he just came out of the adjacent building, and that since he just stupidly admitted to witnessing her date’s repulsive behavior, she knows that he was watching her somehow.

“Wait, I can explain. I care about you. It’s not like that-" He doesn’t know what to say, stumbling over his words horribly. “Please don’t be scared of me,” Five says, trying to correct his first verbal blunder, but it’s too late, and saying that only makes it much, much worse. She’s already backing away from him. He can’t help but panic, and in his current state of mind, he does one further in the wrong when he tries to reach for her. “Plea- OH FUCK!”

She swings at him. Five’s hand comes up stopping the bat just before it slams into the side of his skull.

“No! Just wait! I am sorr-” he tries and fails again to say anything helpful as he spins her around with it, maneuvering her body back up against him so he can detain her arms.

Undeterred by how easily Five turned the tables on her, the girl thrashes, throwing her head back to try and head butt him. He’s much more experienced in hand-to-hand combat than her and taller by just enough that he moves just in time and she misses her mark, her head flinging into his shoulder instead. Ripping the bat out of her hand even as she is stomping at his feet, Five binds one arm around her waist lifting her off the ground as he yanks her backwards with him. 

“Please, stop!” he cries again but she’s not having it. Just as she lets out a scream, Five covers her mouth.

The girl bites Five’s fingers. Filled with violent pain from receiving multiple puncture wounds at once, he drops her back on her feet. Five lets out a ferocious roar as both his arms instinctually come up, squeezing around her throat.

Now that her hands are free, she tries to claw at him but Five lifts a knee into her lower back, pushing in as he buries his face against her shoulder blades so she can’t dig his eyeballs out of their sockets. As the girl’s oxygen supply quickly disappears, Five knows it’s a matter of seconds before she will stop fighting him.

He bares down on her with a chokehold and his skill at taking someone down this way has the girl’s weight falling limply back against his body after less than ten seconds. As her head lolls to the side, he knows that she is completely out, but Five knows it’s not going to be for long unless he tightens his hold and keeps it there. 

If he does that, then it would be over for her.

Five does not want that. He didn’t want to see her hurt or be the one to hurt her. He didn’t want any of this.

He lets up the pressure, making sure she can breathe, but he doesn’t let her go.

Looking around the dimly lit parking lot, all he hears are the echoes of sirens in the distance and the usual humming noise from the traffic on the freeway a few miles away.

To Five’s surprise, it looks like nobody witnessed any of that, not the date who sped off and not this. It’s the middle of the night and there’s nobody around. Even in the window above with lights on still, Five can’t see any signs that someone saw them fighting. This is not the best neighborhood so even if someone did hear a disturbance outside, it would be nothing noteworthy.

But what now?

After what he just accidentally blurted, telling her that he has been essentially going full creep and stalking her, and then what he just did, Five can’t let her go.

If he does, then it would be over for him.

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

Thanks for reading if you got here.

(Chapter three coming soon...)

Updated link to chapter three below.

Link to Chapter 3

If you are hungry for more faster than I post it here, find this and my other Five stories at or check out my other Tumblr posts:

Master Post List to all my Five Centric Stories and Art

KayBreezy on A03

KayBreezy on Tumblr

Link to Bad_Kitty who created two of the pics for this fic and is an author who also loves to write Five Fics

[lethalchiralium]

You Leave Me Wounded And Bleeding | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: the long awaited 1940s simon fic!! it’s been done for a while but i just had to tweak a lot so i’m able to write the second part :)

warnings: 1940s-Immediately after the End of WWII. 3RD PERSON - Heartbreak, mourning - let me know if I missed anything!

summary: It’s September 9th, 1945, the trains are running non-stop to bring soldiers home. Wounded, alive, and dead - families wait on the platforms, desperately awaiting the arrival of their family member. Those crowds would include you - Mrs. Simon Riley, awaiting the love of your life who has been deployed as long as the war had been waged.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

Dear Simon,

I am writing to you this in case something happens. Something I cannot think about, something that can very well happen and I don’t wish to dwell upon it. These words are the only way I can express it if I am no longer able to voice them.

There was thunderous applause in the square, surrounding the gray train station. Screaming, crying, cheering - loudness that she’s never heard before in her small town. She was one to steer clear of the loud noises, to sit away from the excitement in a small cafe or bookstore in the town square. Maybe walk around the plaza, take the time to enjoy the sun.

This September day was different - much different. The always fresh air tasted stale, the bright green trees began to grow gray. Her deep blue dress swished against her shins as she struggled through the crowds of cheering women, crying children, and proud and grieving parents. She glanced around the crowd, noticing how most of the people were draped in grays and blacks - mourning colors. She looked away from them, towards a glass encased list of names.

You’ve written me almost every week during this horrible time, about every thought and moment that caused you pain. It hurts me to know that I cannot ease your agony. It pains me that I cannot be by your side, even for a fleeting moment. You have such a kind soul, Simon Riley. I can only imagine how it will all of this affect you after the war.

A kind hand gently grabbed her wrist, the woman in deep blue jumped in her skin before turning to see a familiar face. An elderly woman she had grown to know in the past few years, a woman she often visited as the elderly woman was her neighbor. Her name was Mavis, her husband had died in the first World War and her only two daughters were nurses now. Mavis knew why she had arrived at the plaza today - she was a patient woman, a gentle voice that the woman in blue desperately needed.

“Will I see you when you arrive home tonight?” Mavis inquired, her black shawl draped over her front. She looked frail in the gray dress she wore, her feet buckled in worn gray kitten heels.

The taller woman in deep blue heels shrugged. “It depends, Mavis.” It depends if I will be coming home without him.

“He will come home to you, darling.” The old woman smiled gently, still holding onto her wrist. She gave it a squeeze, the woman in blue gave Mavis a soft smile.

“I’ve been hoping he does.”

Even long after your letters have stopped arriving, no British Army soldiers have appeared upon our doorstep yet - no telegrams have graced my fingers with your name upon them. That must mean something, right? That you are safe, breathing? For the past two and a half years, I’ve waited for your return; not to mention the three years before that. The danger is gone now, Simon, and you’re not here. They’ve been arriving by the train load for the past week, and none of the lists have your name.

Mavis had let go of Mrs. Riley’s hand and let her be, let her gaze at the large white pages with printed names in black ink. She was still too far to read any names, she still pushed though the crowd - getting closer. She watched as women in white walked away sobbing, or women in black excitedly running towards the train platform.

Fear trembled in Mrs. Riley’s blood, the purse that sat in her left hand felt too heavy, the air felt suffocating as the crowd pushed her towards the board. Today was the first day she felt like this, pain in her heart and fear in her lungs. Maybe today was the day she would see his name on the board, written with the same black ink as the rest of the soldiers coming home to Manchester. She was only behind five more people before she would be at the front of the crowd, reading quickly to find his name - maybe the names of his friends too. She’s met Soap and Gaz before, it has been a long time since she’s even seen Price. Maybe the mysterious Alejandro and Rudy will appear, even though their home is across the world - All living and breathing, she hoped.

Another step forwards, closer to the board as an older gentleman and lady both turned away from the board in tears - the young woman beside them with a teenage boy laughed with excitement. They moved away, she grew closer. She could almost read the names on the papers now.

I musn’t worry, I know you will come back to me. You have a habit of keeping promises, my love - as well as secrets.

“Move it along!” The conductor shouted as he came towards the board, shooing away more people as she quickly scanned the names now that she could read them. She started with the Gs, reading quickly.

Gardner, KIA. Garrett, Garrett, Garrett, KIA…

Garrick, Kyle. Sergeant. Gaz.

She felt hope filter into chest, at least one of them made it - she moved to the Ms.

MacDonald, KIA. MacDonald…

MacTavish, John. Sergeant.

Thank God, Soap. She remembered to breathe then, hurriedly going to the Ps as she noticed that the list was much shorter than yesterday. She didn’t dare dwell on it.

Powell, KIA. Powell. Price, Price, KIA…

Price, John. Captain.

Another step forwards, two more people had gone and now she only had the elderly couple ahead of her. They had worn white as a symbol of hope, as have many of the other families awaiting their turn to read the list. She read the Rs, her heart beating out of her chest like a train engine.

I’ve heard stories from wives, whispers among the streets about some soldiers coming home and no longer being themselves. They’re hollow, lifeless - I’ve seen a few myself. It is like the undead have invaded Manchester, they walk about with no emotion in their eye, no care for their family as they walk beside them. I’ve watched them from our bookstore, watching as their small children tug on their father’s hands and he vaguely responds with a lifeless smile, sending them away from himself. Their wives do not give away any note of worry, perfect smiles and small touches to their husbands as if to comfort them in a small way. It’s not hard to recognize the wife’s pain, it’s a pain I hope I will never know.

Radley. KIA. Raines. KIA. Redgrave. Ridley. Ridley. Rigley. KIA. Rivers. KIA. Robbins. KIA.

I’m scared, Simon.

A rougher hand grabbed her arm then, she didn’t look away. She kept rereading the list. Today is the last day for arrivals, she knew that. She has known that for the past week. Where was his name? Where was Lieutenant Simon Riley?

“Mrs. Riley,” A soft voice came from the person pulling her away, she kept staring at the board as it grew smaller. She almost stumbled, tripping over herself before she turned to look at the man who knew her.

Gaz.

“Are you alright?” She asked the man in pea green, he looked bewildered. They were now just outside of the crowd, he rolled his shoulders. “You aren’t harmed?”

“Mrs. Riley, there is no need for you to worry about me.” Gaz placed a hand on the strap of his dufflebag that was across his chest, he had a concerned look on his face. “Have you seen Soap? He had gotten off of the train with me, I’ve been looking for Price-“

Her hand gently pushed Gaz backwards, away from the crowd. The soldier had let her, her hand left his arm as she led him towards a bench. She sat down, smoothing out her dress and crossing her ankles. Her dark shoes were sort of scuffed, she stared at it for a moment before looking back up at her husband’s friend. He looked upon the train station, seeing the crowd began to dissipate slowly.

“Mr. Garrick,” She whispered, hoping he would hear her just like Simon would. But he just kept watching, waiting. “Gaz.”

Gaz turned his head to look at her, his face solemn. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Please, just call me by my name.” She answered, she then patted the bench. “Sit with me.” The wind picked up then, rippling through her straightened and victory rolled hair - the common style that she hated. Her normal hair was beautiful - is what Simon would always say, gently pet it against her head. If she wished hard enough, she could feel his hand touch her cheek. She closed her eyes then, letting the wind breeze her face without the malice of a dull world.

“I haven’t-“

“Is there someone waiting for you, Mr. Garrick?”

Terrified, really. What if you do not step off that train tomorrow? What will I do if I must return home in silence, no longer in your grasp? No longer sleep without the knowledge that you’ll be coming home?

Her eyes fluttered open as the gentleman sat on the bench, a couple of feet away. He didn’t even look at her, his eyes staring at the station. “No, ma’am.”

“I see.” She answered. “You are welcome in my home, just until you’re able to get on your feet.” She looked towards the train station again, her hands sat like stone in her lap, her purse against her shoes. “The invitation is extended to Mr. MacTavish, Mr. Parra and Mr. Price as well, should you see them - even Mr. Vargas if he makes his presence known.”

“Are you leaving?” Gaz asked and the woman didn’t offer an answer, only silence as she watched families in black walk with either their loved one in their arms or a folded flag. She didn’t know what he was asking - was she leaving the plaza or was she leaving Manchester?

“I’m not sure.” She commented to the air, recounting the past week and knowing that Gaz could hear her. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had company in my home.” She patted her dress again when she changed the subject, a nervous habit. “Many of my own friends in Poland and the Netherlands have perished.” She brushed off invisible dust from her lap, smiling sadly. “I’m afraid I no longer have any friends.”

“Mrs. Riley, you’re my friend.” Gaz commented, looking at her as she still stared at the train station. “Ghost has done all of us well, told us many times that you are a person with a kind heart. I’m very glad you decided not to just ignore me earlier.” He sort of chuckled, then continued. “Look, Mrs. Riley, I haven’t seen Ghost since March. I was moved to a different unit, he was upset with me when I left. Not sure if he’d want to see me-“

“Mrs. Riley!” Came a loud Scottish boom, Gaz’s head swiveled towards the train station as she stood, she would have smiled but the information Gaz gave her sent an arrow into her heart. The Scot slid his bag across the pavement to Gaz before wrapping the woman in a tight embrace, rocking her side to side as he chirped, “Oh, lass, how I have missed you so!” He kissed her cheek, his smile as wide as the moon. “You won’t believe what they’ve fed me!”

Well, I suppose I haven’t had that knowledge since February, but it still feels crushing to say. What will I do if you return to me and you are no longer yourself? I know war must change a man but I’m not sure how I will live if I never see your smile again.

“Soap, you’ll squeeze the poor woman to death.” Gaz’s hand grabbed Soap’s shoulder and the Scot let go of her, his hands held onto her shoulders.

“How are you, bonnie? Still workin’ at that measly book store?” Soap looked like he had not slept in weeks, the poor thing.

She shrugged. “Yes.“

“Gaz, lad, how’re you?” Soap then turned away from her, almost strangling Gaz when he hugged him. Soap then began to babble on to him, while she watched the train station again, seeing how it was now becoming less crowded, yet…

There was a man with a boonie hat on, walking towards them with just a small bag. And it felt like someone had grabbed a hold of her ankle and pulled her underwater, she couldn’t scream, cry- Breathe. Just breathe.

She felt something in her heart then, but it wasn’t confirmation. No, she wouldn’t get confirmation until her fingers brushed his dog tag - the only one she would receive from the British Army would be the red one, the hardened rubber imprinted with his identification number, religion, his first initial and Riley.

“Mr. Price.” Her voice was a whisper, the gentleman raised his head to look at her.

What will I do if you do not return? Will I become like the hundreds of widowed wives, crying forever and waiting for their husband’s remains to return home? Will I be able to go to the plaza everyday, knowing that you’ve touched this place before? Will I be able to stay in our home that you’ve put sweat and blood into, just for us? I can’t think anymore of it.

“Mr. Price, please.” She walked towards him, her steps uneasy. She could feel her heart in her throat as it constricted, the air becoming sour as he came closer. The world began to lose her focus, her hands at her side. The man finally stopped, a few feet from her.

He took off his hat and held out his hand.

“Mrs. Riley.”

Her right hand trembled when she held it up, taking his hand and he shook it.

“Please.” Her request made Soap and Gaz go quiet, she placed her left hand upon Price’s. The Captain merely stared at her. “You have to know something about Simon.”

Price merely whispered your name. “You haven’t seen his name on the boards?”

All color drained from Price’s face, and Soap’s hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to Soap, his friendly excitement was now gone. “He isn’t here?”

I don’t think I could ever understand it, that I would ever want to. We’ve talked about it, but it still doesn’t make the ache in my soul any lighter. I cannot think of you anymore, it feels like my heart is playing a melancholy tune on a piano well beyond its years; playing a song I never knew it had memorized. And it’s like my fingers are stuck to the keys, dancing ever so slowly as if the crescendo in the sheet music keeps darting away. The climax of our story hasn’t even crossed the page yet; I keep playing this haunted tune and I don’t want to anymore.

“Y/N, what do you mean he’s not here?”

I want to rip my fingers from the keys and push myself away from the piano. But I only play this tune as I wait for you, only when you’re away from me. What will I do if this will be the only song I can play for the rest of my life?

Her knees went weak then, she almost collapsed if it wasn’t for Soap grabbing her, quickly placing her on the bench before kneeling in front of her. Price did the same, both men held one of her hands.

“No list has had Ghost on it? At all?” Price questioned, tears didn’t even dare reach her eyes. All she could do was stare at the train station, seeing how the train had gone - only a handful of people remained. She could count on both her hands how many people stayed behind, looking like lost souls, wandering.

Soap’s voice wavered when he spoke your name, “Lass, please answer him,” he squeezed her hand, her eyes looked to his before flickering back to Price.

She took a breath in, trying to calm herself but it was a futile attempt. “No, no.” She took another breath, shuddering. She closed her eyes and her head moved down to face her lap. “I…He has to be here, you have to know something.”

“The last time I saw the LT, shite, would’ve been the start of August. We were headin’ back from Hong Kong.” Soap muttered, his hand still firmly squeezing hers. “He was fine. He was with Alejandro, they were heading back, weren’t they?”

Price hummed in agreement. “Maybe he gave his seat up, maybe he escorted Alejandro to London. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” The Captain looked to Soap. “Go check the boards again, maybe they’ve put up the MIA list.”

Soap gave her hand another squeeze before he leapt to his feet, speed walking towards the station while Gaz took his place; Gaz’s hand had a softer grip, much more comforting.

“Mrs. Riley, it will be okay.” Gaz’s voice was soft now, Price was looking over his shoulder. “He’ll be here.”

My mother sent for me. This morning, actually. I was sitting in the study, going through the mail. My father is dying back home in America, and I must go. But I feel that I cannot leave here without knowing. I cannot leave our home without knowing if I get to kiss you or kiss the stone that will lay above your head.

“We should take her home,” Gaz commented to Price, she couldn’t even feel her hands then, her husband’s friends holding her hands tightly. “She needs to go home, Price.”

“Wait.” Price murmured, still watching Soap. She didn’t dare look now, her gaze moved away and to the right. The trees danced with the gentle breeze, leaves twisting and turning on their branches. The lights of the cafe had now burned out, the post office dim too - it seemed everyone had decided to abandon their work today. It made sense.

All she wanted to do now was sit in the bookstore, reading one of those romance books that Simon finds silly in the little reading nook she loved. He’d tell her that reading about romance is not the way to find someone, that all of the romance she’d need would come from him. What a way to woo a woman, she had said. He had smiled.

I’ve wondered what it would be like for you if I leave for America this very moment. You place your key into the lock, twisting it and opening up the front door. The house would be dark, no warmth from the fireplace, nothing to signal that I would be home. Maybe you would think I abandoned you, maybe you would think I had perished. But, I know you. There will be no need to worry, Simon.

“Soap,” Price called, her eyes didn’t move from the bookstore, its lights still on and bright. It was almost like she could see Simon sitting on the window seat across from her, reading A Farewell To Arms by Ernest Hemingway while she read Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell - stealing glances from each other often. They were young then, he was 21 while she was 18, almost 19.

It was their first date. Sitting in the bookstore, stealing glances and being near each other. He had asked her what she was doing here in Manchester, noticing her American accent. She said, “I’m visiting my friends, I’m staying with an aunt.”

Simon sat up, closing his book before looking at her. “And you’re sat here, in a bookstore?”

“You have a much different and bigger selection than home,” She answered, a smile danced on her lips. “But I still love reading my favorite book.” She closed her own book, swinging her legs over the side of the bench, letting her shoes touch the ground. “Say, do you know any good romance books?”

That was the first time she had heard him truly laugh.

I’ve waited so long for you. So long for our life to grow, to spend more than a fleeting moment behind a bookshelf like we did when we were young. I’ve sat in every room of our home, praying and wishing for your safe return. I’ve hoped and wished so hard that I feel that the universe no longer hears me. Oh Simon, I’ve waited centuries in the collective almost six years you have been gone from my side. I’m not sure if I can wait any longer.

She didn’t even hear Soap’s answer. She didn’t even care that Price had pulled her to her feet, asking Soap where she lived. She mindlessly walked beside the soldiers, her ears began to ring.

The sky was gray, whistles of rain fell from it and kissed their heads. She would have normally been walking faster to avoid the rain, her hair taking almost an hour to put up but it felt like her soul had fell free from her chest. It was thrown away on the side of the street, discarded until she decides to find it again.

She was sure she wouldn’t.

The breeze felt bitter now, it was no longer her friend that ebbed by through her hair. It was a dangerous being, whispering in her ear taunts of loneliness, even though her friends walked beside her. Her arms were around both Gaz and Price’s, her hands gently rested on their forearms as they continued through the Manchester streets.

The ring felt heavy now. It felt like someone was pulling on her hand, trying to tear her ring off of her skin; like something was trying to burn it off. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t take it off. It was the only part she had connected to him.

When they finally arrived at her home, she blinked. She refocused her eyes, staring at the black door that seemed to mock her now. Soap fished the key from her purse, opening it - the soldiers pulled her into the house, her dark shoes scraped against the floor, scuffing them. They walked into the living room, gently settling her onto her couch. Their arms left her then, all of the soldiers kneeled before her.

And all she could do was blink, feeling tears burn her cheeks. And none of the men there dared to touch her now, Price’s eyes stayed on hers as Gaz and Soap looked at each other.

“Did you hear him?” Price’s voice was much softer than it was before, kinder - patient. “Did you hear John?”

She shook her head, letting the razor sharp tears slice down her face.

Price held out his hands, to which both of hers settled in. He clutched them gently, as if she was made of porcelain.

“Simon Riley is missing in action.”

I will love you forever. Even if you have left this precious Earth, even if your feet still tread upon it. But I can’t wait for a ghost when I have been waiting for my husband almost our entire marriage. My father is stable enough, they believe. He has two months to live. And because I love you, Simon, I will wait exactly one month after the last train arrives in Manchester with a list of soldiers.

Her tears fell against her dress, louder than anything else in the room. Her hands shook in front of her, she clenched them before she looked up at her husband’s friends.

And if you arrive when I have gone, I am sorry. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back to our home empty handed, even if you are there - because you always leave. You always leave and I have always needed you, Simon. Always. You have hurt me in unimaginable ways, my love, even if you always find your way back home to me. So, just this once - I will be the one leaving. I can’t come back. I won’t come back. I won’t come back to a house that is no longer ours. I will not come back to a house that is just mine.

“Please don’t let me be alone.”

I love you, Simon Riley. Don’t ever forget it.

Forever yours,

Y/N.

—

𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡! 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢!

———

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[alessiathepirate]

Creep 2014

THE CONSEQUENCES OF A SMALL MISTAKE: Josef x fem!reader

Summary: The butterfly effect - the idea that small things can have big consequences. In her case, a small mistake gave her the opportunity to escape death.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

I didn't really plan to write any type of fanfiction or oneshot for this movie, even if I think it's fantastic (including the sequel) and unsettling, but there aren't many works out there for it - so I thought I'd try my best. And after some ideas and motivation, here it is! I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

Warnings: swearing, implied stalking, slightly referenced violence and/or murder, attempted murder

•••

the butterfly effect:

the butterfly effect is the idea that small things can have non-linear impacts on a complex system

or: the idea that the smallest things can have big consequences

°°°

She ran out of coffee. There was none left in the small metal container she usually kept the coffee beans in, and the cheap three in one box was empty as well.

That realization hurt in the morning, especially when she woke up late and knew that she'll be late for work. And the fact that the coffee was gone made the already bad day even worse.

She should've checked it, that's what she told herself as she went through her day without her usual, great cup of coffee. The one they make at her workplace couldn't be called coffee at all and the nearest coffee shop was too far away to go there during her break.

So she had to survive without the coffein she loved.

Such a small thing. A small mistake, a usual occurance - something what can happen to anybody anytime. Yet the consequences of her not checking on the metal container on Sunday were greater than she could've ever imagined.

She was home just before seven. It was already starting to get dark and she was tired. Way too tired to care about anything, to notice the unusual things happening around her or remembering the things she had promised she'd do. She didn't notice the package on her porch, even if the box was big enough to reach past her knees. She walked past it, trying to grab her keys from her bag to open the door.

"You didn't answer my calls..." the voice was so sudden she dropped her keys as her hands shook violently, her eyes no longer tired, but wide open. Her throat felt tight as held onto her bag tightly, her knuckles turning white as she looked around on the porch, examining all the dark corners to decide where to aim with it.

It took a few seconds for her to realize she knew that voice. It wasn't a stranger even if his voice did sound strange from time to time, it was high pitched when he was excited and he was excited at the weirdest moments.

"For fucks sake, you scared the Hell out of me!" she spoke up, her voice rough - then, after she realized how rude she must've sounded, she apologized with a small, tired smile: "I had a long day, I didn't mean to shout at you."

Her expression changed, going back to its exhausted self. She let go of her bag, letting it sit on her shoulder as she crouched down to find her keys.

Then the guy she knew as Josef walked closer to her, showing her which dark corner he was hiding in. He let the shadows draw dark shapes onto his face before he too crouched down, immediately finding the keys she was looking for.

"Thank you." she said as she took them from him, standing back up to open the door.

"It's okay." he was unusually quiet as he observed her every move, even after she stepped inside, leaving the door open for him. "No movie night then?"

She stopped, for a second feeling very much awake as she gently hit her forehead with her hand.

"Fuck, I totally forgot about it." for a moment she looked like she's about to cry. "I'm one poor excuse of a friend." she kicked her shoes off and let her bag fall to the ground as she quickly disappeared into the house - her voice had an unusual pitch to it as she shouted back: "Do you want some tea or something? Hot chocolate maybe? Heck, that's the least I can do - I'm so sorry."

Even in her tired and pityful mood she still knew that in the next few seconds Josef will turn up somewhere - behind her, next to her, in the other room when she leaves the kitchen. He did that a lot, scaring her either as a plan or as an accident. This was the case that time too.

"Hot chocolate's fine." she jumped a little, her heart beating faster as his voice came from directly behind her; she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

Although she said nothing to it, because it had became an everyday thing, she still needed a few moments to collect herself.

"Okay. Give me a moment." she whispered, the sentence having two meanings: Give me a moment to get the hot chocolate done and Give me a moment to collect myself after you scared me.

"Did you order something?" Josef asked as he walked around the kitchen, looking at all the appliences and touching some of them even if he's seen them many times before.

"What do you mean?" she furrowed her eyebrows as she got the mugs ready, not understanding his question. She didn't order anything.

"You have a package on the porch."

"Great." she muttered, her tiredness showing once again. "Must be the wrong address. But whatever, I'll deal with it tomorrow."

She couldn't see him, but she heard his breathing and his steps as she melted some chocolate and poured some milk into the mugs.

" 'You sure?"

Why wouldn't I be?

"Yeah. I've got a movie night to make up for." she smiled as she added some cream to the drinks; she then turned towards him, her smile not disappearing at all even her eyes hurt a bit. "I don't have any popcorn, but we can still watch something if it's okay."

They both looked at the other, neither of them blinking as if they'd like to win a sudden challenge. He tilted his head, examining her posture or gestures - she couldn't tell, but she felt like she's telling him more than she'd like to.

His gaze was strange. Everything was more unusual about him ever since he turned up on her porch. She didn't necessary like it, but she didn't dare to point it out either.

And then suddenly, as if someone just pressed a switch in him, he smiled. More like grined. His whole mood changed in a second - and the oddness of it activated her fight or flight reflex. The fear ran through her fast, it made her shiver and her hands twitch slightly.

She has never been afraid of him before. Maybe she should've - her instincts told her.

"It's okay." his grin stayed and it made her feel like prey. "Let's watch something."

"Yeah." it wasn't more than a whisper for herself to gain her strength back as she watched Josef leave the kitchen - she soon followed him with the mugs. "So- what'll we watch?"

"'Interview with the Vampire'?" she looked at him as she put down the mugs on the coffee table right in front of the TV, and she couldn't help but let out a tired, half-annoyed sigh despite the coldness that ran through her back.

"Again?" she asked with a small, but knowing smile and even if the weird feeling didn't leave her chest, it was still an honest one. "We watched it last week too."

"Please?"

She just shook her head with a weak smile and was already on her way to connect the old DVD player to the TV, and then look for the cheap copy of the movie. She didn't have to look for long. It was right where they left it last week after he had gotten bored and pressured her into taking a walk around the neighborhood late at night.

"All right. Just because I owe you- and you're one of the few people I actually care about."

After everything was set and the first shot appeared on the TV, she finally sat down on the couch and leaned back - both her worry and hot chocolate forgotten as her limbs were finally stretched and resting. That was when she really felt the missing doses of coffein; her whole body felt heavier than usual now that she was past the hard part of the day. Now that she could see the familiar actors and hear the familiar lines; now that she could feel Josef's thigh against her own, she finally started to give up.

It felt too nice and comfortable. She doubted that she can wait out the whole two hours and two minutes - she had seen the Interview with the Vampire so many times she knew everyhing about it by heart - without falling asleep.

But until then, she could talk, to keep Josef entertained. He had to be entertained unless she wanted to wake up to him scaring her and having a heart attack.

"Did you do anything interesting today?" she asked as she slowly sat up to reach her drink.

"Sure. I shot a short film for the collection."

"Well, at least you had a more exciting day then I had." she yawned. "Will you show me some of it? Someday..."

"Someday." maybe if she was more alert, she would've seen the change in his tone and gestures.

She put the mug back down. The movie continued. They stayed quiet.

Unusually quiet.

Josef is very rarely calm and silent. He either has to be in a bad mood or has to be very tired. And as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes she couldn't see any of it.

And then, later, the more tired she was, the more alert he became. His back straightened, but not from the excitement she came to know - from something else, something new; something she hasn't seen before.

Seemingly, he was thinking. She knew it from the way the muscles around his mouth moved. But she couldn't tell what was on his mind. It must've been something big and serious. She didn't dare to ask.

"You know..." her eyes were halfway closed when Josef spoke up. "I really thought you wouldn't care if we missed this movie night."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're tired."

"So?" she asked. "I'm always the tired one. You simply have more energy. Besides, it's just the addiction - coffee is a pretty strong drug." she chuckled quietly.

"I was thinking, maybe I'll keep you as my friend." if she noticed the dark tone of his voice, she didn't give it away at all.

"Well it's really nice of you to think so Josef, since we've been friends for the last two months." she turned towards him, her lips slightly curling upwards. "But I'll be happy if you keep me."

"I might."

And then soon, she was gone.

Her eyes closed, because she couldn't keep them open any longer and her whole being relaxed; her body didn't feel heavy anymore.

Perhaps she should have been worried. Scared - to fall asleep. But that's not how it went down, she gave up the fight with sleep and even if she lost, that's what saved her life.

The Interview with the Vampire kept on playing on the TV, the light from it made it possible to see in the room. Five minutes went by, then ten. And suddenly her head was resting on Josef's shoulder.

If she was awake, she would've noticed how stiff his posture has become or how he almost moved further away from her. But in the end he stayed and after he worked on his position on the couch, he decided to put aside the knife he had in his hand.

He slightly moved his head so his chin wouldn't touch the top of her head as he found the right angle to examine her from. He had seen her do a lot of stuff. He had seen her cook and clean, go to work and to the store or do whatever she liked to do in her free time - all without her knowledge. He hadn't seen her sleep yet.

She seemed calm, trusting. But then again every single person looks calm in his or her sleep. Trusting on the other hand - not many people would put their trust in him. Only the very naive or stupid ones. But he knew she wasn't stupid, nor naive. She had a decent job, a decent life and she didn't talk to everyone. Yet she talked to him.

He raised one of his hands and took hold of a lock of hair softly. He twisted it around his fingers and then awkwardly petted her head.

There was no fun in killing her in that moment. She was asleep. She hadn't seen the package yet. She hadn't seen the VHS tape he put in it. There wasn't enough fear in her yet.

But then again there was something else. There was trust and perhaps, just perhaps it may be more interesting than fear. It for sure felt nicer than her fear.

He brushed his fingers along the outline of her face as if he'd like to know every single bone or wrinkle. He stayed there and raked his fingers through her hair and smelled it too.

Later he put his knife away.

And after he put her in a more comfortable position on the couch, he went outside to get to the package before she does. He cut it open and after he retrieved the necklace he put in it, he set the rest of it aside. He'll get rid of it before she wakes up.

Maybe if she trusts him this much she'll like it.

If she likes him this much she'll definitely like it.

He sat down next to her on the couch again, his gaze was once on the movie and once on her.

That's what it took her to avoid death.

Her forgetfulness, her addiction and her trust. One simple mistake.

And after unknowingly escaping death, she's got an even clingier and stranger Josef than before.

But then again, it's still better, isn't it?

[niki-phoria]

SORRY LAST ONE i promise but can you do heeseung x male reader and the song is back to December by Taylor swift. thank you so much 😊

- 🦋

pairing: heeseung x male!reader (no pronouns used; implied masc reader) genre: angst (??)/songfic word count: 1.0k

includes: exes to lovers, kinda implied non idol heeseung, slightly ambiguous ending i'll write a part 02 if someone asks for it, painting is based on this by peter weber !!

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i'm so sorry reqs have just been sitting in my inbox, i promise i'm working on them. i hope you like it :))

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

the soft noise of shoes scuffling across the floor around you echoes throughout the extravagant art gallery. your gaze remains fixated on the painting in front of you; eyes lingering on each brush stroke and intricate detail. 

you pause at one particular painting hanging on a wall in the corner - almost isolated from the others. two men take up most of the frame; their arms tightly wrapped around one another. their hands cling onto each other’s bodies. the hug feels intimate - as if you’re intruding on the moment by simply observing the portrait. 

memories begin haunting you once again. with no facial features visible, it's far too easy for your still-heartbroken mind to imprint yourself and your ex-boyfriend into the places of the two men.

you shake your head, taking a step back away from the painting as if to escape your own past. turning on your heel, you begin to venture into another part of the museum when something - someone - catches your eye. 

i miss your tan skin, your sweet smile / so good to me, so right

your breath hitches in your throat. heeseung is beautiful. he always has been. even from a distance, you can see that time has been good to him. 

he’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket - the black leather jacket that you had bought him for his birthday. his hair has been dyed so blonde highlights stain his previously ink black fringe. his bangs lay flat against his forehead, styled in the same way they were when you went to school together. 

heeseung’s shoulders have gotten slightly broader, though you aren’t sure if it’s the result of continuous exercise or a change in his posture. his biceps look more toned even in their relaxed position resting against his hips. 

you find yourself admiring heeseung as if he’s another exhibit. despite all of the changes you can pick out, some things always remain the same. his laughter sounds the same as it did years ago when it echoes throughout the building. heeseung reaches over to playfully swat at his friend’s shoulder the way he used to do to you. his eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles. it’s the same smile that you fell in love with. 

and how you held me in your arms that september night / the first time you ever saw me cry

your heart skips a beat for a second when heeseung’s gaze meets yours for a second. you can tell the moment he recognizes you. his eyes widen and he stops dead in his tracks, much to the concern of his friends. you almost feel numb as you immediately spin back around, returning to the painting you had been admiring only a few minutes before. 

heeseung’s steps echo against the floor as he quietly walks over to stand beside you. he glances at the painting in front of you for a few seconds before he turns to face you. “y/n?”

“heeseung.” a nervous smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you turn slightly to face him. the word feels uncomfortable as it leaves your lips. each vowel is curt and stunted. 

an unbearable few seconds of silence pass before your politeness gets the better of you. “it’s good to see you again.”

“you too,” he softly smiles. another period of silence passes before heeseung breaks it again. “how have you been?”

“i’m fine,” you nod. “i got into that university we talked about.” i wish you were there to see it. the words linger on the tip of your tongue before you swallow them down, forcing them back into a deep recess of your mind. 

“congratulations,” heeseung smiles. there’s an almost misplaced familiarity in his tone. “i always knew you would make it in.”

this time you allow yourself to face him. the corners of his lips quirk upwards. he’s proud. you can tell. “thank you. and what about you? how have you been?”

“oh, you know,” heeseung sighs softly. “i’m good. i finally traveled to tokyo.”

some of the tension relaxes from your shoulders. he’s always had an uncanny ability to relax you. “how was it?”

“the trip was great. japan is prettier than i was expecting.” there’s a small beat of silence once again. you debate making an excuse to leave for the sake of avoiding the awkward situation before heeseung speaks again - though this time the words are barely a whisper. “i wish you could’ve come. i kept thinking about how much you would’ve enjoyed it.”

maybe this is wishful thinkin’ / probably mindless dreamin’

you pretend not to notice heeseung’s gaze lingering on the side of your face. the quiet is nearly unbearable; both of you silently staring at the painting before you. facing the artwork is far easier than facing the man you used to love. the man you do love. 

heeseung shuffles slightly to stand a little closer to you. you can just barely feel the faux leather of his jacket brush against the cotton of your oversized sweater. it feels eerily familiar - the silence falling over you as you admire the artwork. 

your hand unconsciously drifts to brush against heeseungs’ before you can stop yourself. you both jump away from each other like a jolt of electricity has passed. “y/n,” heeseung murmurs.

but if we loved again, i swear i’d love you right

heeseung’s eyes are glossy when you meet them. he nervously bites at his bottom lip - twisting the muscle between his teeth for a few seconds. tears sting at your own eyes despite your continuous efforts to blink them away. 

“i miss you,” heeseung finally whispers. his voice shakes as he forces the words out of his mouth. an ache burns in your chest - something you haven’t felt since he left. “i promise i’ll do better. i’ll be better.”

“heeseung,” you choke out. your hands tremble at your sides. 

he swallows once. his gaze never leaves yours. there’s nothing but sincerity reflecting back at you in the darkness of his eyes. “can we please try again?”