#also they need to stop blaming us for the fucking suicide rate

[eve-was-framed]

The guy in the last screenshot framing it as “treating men’s emotional confessions like a burden” is stupid. If a male friend were to confess to me about like mental illness or him being abused in the past or something then yeah it would be super shitty of me to react like he’s annoying me or burdening me in some way. but a male friend confessing he likes you isn’t really just an “emotional confession” to us, it’s them trying to turn a platonic friendship into a romantic one and we know that if we kindly and graciously reject their advances and just want to remain friends then they’ll resent us for it. We know if we say no, 99% of the time that means the friendship we valued is over and they’ll drop us completely or even react to the rejection in an aggressive way.

Also yeah I’m sure it does suck to never have anyone show interest in you, I can acknowledge that. But it also sucks to know that every man who wants to be friends with you is only doing it because he wants to fuck you, but they’ll never acknowledge that that’s actually a legitimate grievance for us to have because it’s easier to frame it as us just being whiny and ungrateful.

Scrolling through Instagram reels and reminded that a huge proportion of men think that being attracted to all women who are nice to you/your friend is normal and not objectifying…

The comments:

The absolute brainrot. It’s dehumanizing to think you’ve made a friend and find out it’s only because they think you’re hot.

“If u just politely say that you’d rather be friends they’ll try to act like nothing happened” no they’ll throw a tantrum and either physically threaten you or stop talking to you, or will pretend to be your friend but won’t stop making passes at you.

[sourcreammachine]

TORY PARTY MANIFESTO 2024 SUMMARY

tldr: little rishi is liz truss now. words 8, 9 and 10 of the manifesto are 'covid and ukraine', so they're swinging hard on excusemaking, and it's very negativist and defensive - attacking labour and justifying their terrible government. they know they’re losing so it’s a mess in an attempt to stop their base voting reform. this is the only major manifesto whose headings are written in serif, tryna act all official and luxe

💷ECONOMY

flat-rate employee national insurance cuts from 12% to 6% over the next two financial years, allegedly cutting income taxation for a £35k/a worker by £1,350 (their numbers) BUT also giving the highest 'employee' earners this same tax-cut

trickle-down economics: keep corporation tax at extreme lows

exempt the self-employed from national insurance contributions, essentially cutting overall income taxation by a couple percent

specific, direct threat to cut benefits for 'people of working age with a disability or health condition', restrict PIP entitlements with harsher assessments, massively expand 'fit to work' status over people with mental health and mobility conditions to remove benefits from 400k people (despite the current regime leading to misery and deaths), transfer fit note responsibility from GPs to the dwp to restrict more benefits, reduce the 'claimant review' date from 18 months to 12 months without work

transition child benefit entitlements to be based on 'household' earnings rather than individual earnings

"we will not increase the number of council tax bands, undertake an expensive council tax revaluation or cut council tax discounts, as labour is currently doing in wales", preventing councils from getting more property tax revenue whilst not increasing their funding from anywhere, enabling more and more and more and more councils to shit themselves and die, letting them blame labour for "bankrupting" the councils that the central government themselves squeezed to death

ban councils doing four-day week schemes

reduce net borrowing – curious considering the unfunded nature of the manifesto proposals

increase taxes on online distribution warehouses "to help the high street" [citation needed]

"use brexit freedoms" to recategorise many 'large' businesses as 'medium', exempting them from reporting requirements and allowing them to exploit their workers more

more fucking 'freeport' special economic zones

'strengthen the commonwealth' because that's the favourite excuse of europhobic excusemakers acting like severing trade with the mainland wasn't a horrifically bad idea. india and malaysia do not give a shit about us mate and it's ridiculous to think australia and guyana could ever offer as much economic integration as the mainland can

do nothing to supervise or control the City with a specific eye to doing nothing about "fintech" and "ai"

economic commitment to continue union-busting and restricting union rights, 'continue implementing' the so-called 'minimum service levels legislation' to enable strikebreaking and mandatory scabbing

🏥PUBLIC SERVICES

continue the privatisation of the NHS but with a focus on small/medium enterprises

expand, that's right, expand the indefensible multi-academy trusts, build more indefensible 'free schools' (ie with private charters, no oversight, and public cash), expand faith schools, strengthen ofsted to be even more bureaufascistic against attacks after that headteacher's suicide

continue and enforce the ongoing propaganda push into primary schools, "we will always support teachers to uphold and promote fundamental British values"

'close university courses with the worst outcomes' [clarification needed], again, threatening the higher education sector into compliance with their whims

stick all children not in school on a register

make the NHS app a single frontend for all NHS stuff

slash the size of the civil service and 'bring quango spending under control', incorporate so-called 'ai' into the civil service [clarification needed]

🏠HOUSING

lax planning laws including environmental protections and opportunities for legal challenge, and force councils to set aside land for builders, to allow more private-finance soulless newbuild sprawl, with no new infrastructure, no new community, only house-for-sale after house-for-sale

target the building of mcmansions on inner-city brownfields

expand help-to-buy for these horrible newbuilds

restrict social housing along xenophobic and classist lines: "we will legislate for new ‘local connection’ and ‘uk connection’ tests for social housing in england, to ensure this valuable but limited resource is allocated fairly"

'reform' leaseholds and cap ground rents, not abolishing this indefensible stain

give 105 towns a pathetic £20m

🚄TRANSPORT ?

build northern powerhouse rail including Bradford Station "using money saved from HS2" and £12b more, and upgrade the east midlands mainline

lax planning restrictions on new strategic (big and polluting) roads

deliver money centrally for transport projects: £1.75b for the midlands rail hub, a pathetic £1b for buses in the north AND in the midlands, and £13b for 'local priorities' to 'cut congestion' (read: roads)

introduce a specific 'death by dangerous cycling' offence

"automated vehicles will be on British roads in the next parliament"🤮

ban low-traffic neighbourhoods except on a 'road by road basis' 'with the support of the people who live there' and create a statutory right to challenge existing LTNs

"labour’s incoherent and ideological nationalisation plan would put the trade unions in charge", ie the incoming british railways (being set up) will continue the indefensible franchise-concession system that emerged after the final collapse of the franchise system in 2020

"include measures to reform outdated working practises in the rail industry" – ie forcing through driver-only trains and other things the drivers are striking against, possibly requiring strikebreaking them

👮FORCE

"in recent months we have seen shocking increases in protests being used as a cover for extremist disruption and criminality. we cannot allow a small and vocal minority to destroy our democratic values. that is why we unveiled a new extremism definition under which certain groups that promote an ideology based on violence, hatred or intolerance will be blocked from government funding and meeting officials. we have passed tough new laws to curb disruptive protests. our public order act 2023 [ie the Bill that the kill the bill protests were trying to kill] gave the police new powers to intervene where protests cause serious disruption to communities, leading to the arrests of over 600 just stop oil and extinction rebellion protestors in London alone. we will introduce further powers to ban face coverings, pyrotechnics and climbing on war memorials. we will strengthen police powers to prevent protests or marches that pose a risk of serious disorder, by allowing police to take into account the cumulative impact of protests"

"building on our new powers for the police, we will further speed up the use and enforcement of powers to remove illegal traveller sites, while giving councils greater planning powers to prevent unauthorised development by travellers", furthering the ongoing clampdown on the civil rights of our country's GRT people

surge funding for the armed forces

deliberate target to be europe's largest arms exporter by 2030 no i am not fucking joking

sabrerattle at the 'Axis of Hostile Actors' (russia, china, iran), giving a catchy name to the other side of this little cold war of theirs

abuse the permanent un council seat as much as possible

"we will push for a two-state solution in the middle east - our long-standing position has been that we will recognise a palestinian state that is most conductive to the peace process" [oxymoronic – SEE ME]

roll out broken windows policing

mandatory minimum of life for 'most heinous murderers', prohibit parole for rapists

not enact Leveson 2 and allow the press hate speech and corruption to continue, proceed with centralised renegotiation of BBC funding with all statecapture (or the effects of the threats thereof) that may entail

half-baked national service proposal. look, they know they're gonna lose so they've come up with this faff to win over their base. all 18-year-olds (no specific enumeration given so i'm guessing it means from yer 18th birthday to 19th birthday, interfering with exams and start of uni) forced to do one weekend a month 'community volunteering', or get one of 30k places in the military (out of a typical annual cohort of 400k) for a year, so the troops get distracted from their warcrimes by being forced to do childcare lmao. the compulsion to do this is not enumerated, with one rogue minister suggesting fines could fall at the feet of the parents of these adult people. takeaway: this is total nonsense and they don't have to make it make sense so who cares

legal cap on work and family visas, screen migrants for health conditions and force them to pay if they need treatment, do the rwanda concentration camp scheme, ban asylum seekers from countries 'that don't work with us', mass deportations of illegals [clarification needed]

LEAVE THE EUROPEAN COURT OF HUMAN RIGHTS if it finds against the rwanda concentration camp scheme

expand the NCA with a focus on being the hostile environment

promote the imperialistic ambitions of the anglosphere and english as the cosmocratic imperial lingua franca

only 30k of the so-called 'national service' would in the military, so basically forcing the military to do daycare

commitment to continued strikebreaking and union-busting

force landlords to evict "antisocial" tenants in a 'three strikes and you're out' policy

ban mobile phones in schools

pledge for a Bad Internet Bill to restrict online content, 'carefully consider' the bertin review to implement hostile measures against pornography

🌱CLIMATE ?

build new gas power stations and accelerate oil and gas extraction in the north sea

treble offshore wind, in line with labour's proposals

invest £1b into green energy – a pathetically small amount

approve more nuclear reactors

carbon credit scheme for imports of materials

restrict the mandate of the climate change committee

force solar power stations to be a minimum distance from another solar power station 'to protect rural landscapes'

allow nimby organisations to prevent onshore wind

reverse the ultra-low emissions zone expansion

slowly work towards a deposit-return system

a new national park. a new one. a. one

🗳️DEMOCRACY ?

"we remain committed to the first past the post system for elections, maintaining the direct link with the local voter. we will not change the voting age rom 18. we will maintain rules to tackle voting fraud, including the requirement to show id"

"we believe the governments in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland now have the right balance of powers"

"we will bring forward legislation to reapply the entirety of the trade union act 2016 (ie restricting the rights of unions) to wales. and a welsh conservative government would reverse labour's plans to expand the senedd" [relevance - this isn't a manifesto for the senedd election]

expand the useless sticking-plaster combined authorities, give powers first to Tees Valley in bare-faced partisan corruption

🏳️‍⚧️REACTIONARY AGENDA

"biological sex is a reality. the overwhelming majority of people in this country recognise that. it has been more than a decade since the equality act was passed by a labour government. it has not kept pace with evolving interpretations and is not sufficiently clear on when it means sex and when it means gender. the next conservative government will introduce primary legislation to clarify that the protected characteristic of sex in the equality act means biological sex. this will guarantee that single sex services and single sex spaces can be provided, for example in healthcare and sports settings, to ensure women and girls are protected"

"in recent years, an increasing number of children have started questioning their gender, the consequences of which are still unknown. parents will have a right to know if their child wants to be treated as the opposite sex and schools will have to involve parents when it comes to decisions about their children"

"attempts at so-called 'conversion therapy' are abhorrent. but legislation around conversion practices is a very complex issue, with existing criminal law already offering robust protections. in light of the cass review final report, it is right that we take more time before reaching a final judgement"

"we will work to strengthen the relationship between schools and parents, including by delivering new legislation which will make clear, beyond all doubt, that parents have a right to see what their child is being taught in school [they made it bold not me] and schools must share all materials, especially on sensitive matters like relationships and sex education. this builds on the progress [citation needed] we have already made, having updated relationships, sex and health education guidance to introduce clear age-limits on what children can be taught [the rightist outrage at 'sex education for five year olds' is literally stuff like gay people exist so don't bully billy two-dads for having two dads, which is of course fucking unacceptable to the daily mosley] and guarantee the contested concept of gender identity is not taught to children [clarification needed -- or not, because the vagueness is the point, it's Section 28 two, terrorising the entire public sector into silence about anything the daily mosley might clench their pearls about]."

commitment to implement the cass review, ban the private prescription of puberty blockers, accelerate the increasing prohibition of their NHS prescription, fight 'ideologically-driven care' and follow 'evidence' (in the context of the case review meaning absolute prohibition and literal torture)

stop public sector DEI [clarification needed]

'not allow the word woman to be erased'

🤔STRAIGHT UP NON-POLICIES

a load of stuff in the manifesto, especially in the economic section, is just 'maintain funding for...', including 'maintaining' the living wage (ie without even making it legally mandatory), and do ongoing plans instituted by public sector organs that wouldn't be theirs to organise

the so-called 'triple lock plus' or 'quadruple lock': the triple lock legally mandates three possible minima for the state pension, depending on which is highest. it's currently below the tax-free personal allowance, but it is forecast to go above the current personal allowance at some point, which would mean pensioners would start paying tax on the income above the allowance. the tories have made a huge song and dance about raising the personal allowance for pensioners in line with the triple lock. George W Bush 'Mission Accomplished' energy. they're trying to present 'removing' this weird and unhelpful discrepancy as a 'tax cut', even though it is currently not a 'tax' and would be easily rectified by any incumbent government facing this situation by just raising the allowance, because all pensioners would cause a hell of a storm were the government to forget to solve the discrepancy. and it totally ignores any possibility of the personal allowance being raised anyway

prevent first-time buyers from having to pay stamp duty! except there's been a 'temporary' lien for years so this is nothing

'maintain the ban on prisoners voting' is listed as an actual policy

[8054yamato]

01/01/2024

Is there something wrong with me? I am genuinely serious. I have problems and I know some of them. I have a lot of problems that I also do not know. I am trying to figure them out.

What makes me unlikable? Am I too emotionally invested in myself? Who am I? Why would you approach them over me? When have I started becoming insecure about this? How are they more likable than I am? I need answers.

I did nothing at all today except think to myself. I get that I am using different personas with certain people like how I usually do with my friends. To them, I am just Ren, a friend. Yet, I feel like they treat me differently than their other friends. To start a conversation of them, 80% of the time I had to initiate it. I thought we were friends?

Way before Christmas break started, I started to burn bridges with my friends. I stopped hanging out with them during free periods (lunch & nutrition) and stopped playing basketball or any activities with them after school hours. Even if I had classes with them, we only interacted for assignments. As opposed to hanging out with my friend group, I went to one of my teacher's classroom or to a nearby park and studied.

At the time, I was content with that. That is what I wanted. Burning down my bridges because I hated the front that I was projecting. Peace and alone was my end goal regardless.

In hindsight, why have they barely, if at all, attempted to engage in a genuine conversation with me? I can not believe I am only noticing this now. I fucking hate myself.

Previously, this was not the case. Last school year, I was emotionally better. I had priorities straight, I was going to school, and I was goal focused more than anything. I talked to people a lot more, friends would approach me and I would approach back. Something snapped within me towards the end of the school year. My confidence was lost, I got depressed again, and I was repeating eerily repeating actions I regretted back in 10th grade.

History is repeating itself. Back in 9th to 10th grade, I was depressed. With the type of person I am, I just could not tell anybody. I felt like I was concious and logical enough to get through it. That was a fucking lie I told myself.

During the second semester of 8th grade and all the way through 9th grade, partly 10th grade as well, I was forever in the same room. The only time I got out of my comfort zone was to use the restroom or eat assuming I had not forgotten. I was showing signs of hikikomori-like behavior and to the outside, it seemingly just a rebellious phase. I do not blame them, I would assume the same if a 14 year old was rebelling like that.

10th grade was fucking rough. I attended school 40% of the time. I managed to pass and make up some of my classes that same year. My favorite subject being math, I had a borderline A (I was B at the end) on it which was cool. The rest of my classes sucked ass though. I believe my first semester attendence rate was 40% and the second semester was a bit higher than that.

Most of the time, I was absent during 10th grade. I was just at my room. I refused to go outside. I was a fucking loser. I was suicidal. I attempted about 3 times. The first time, I tried suffocating myself with my barehands. The reason how I found out it was impossible to kill yourself doing this was through experience. Your conciousness and strength disappears before it can be life threatening. I was retarded. I do not even know why I did not even think about that. I should have used a better method looking back.

I moved to a different U.S. state during the summer between 10th and 11th grade. I went to school for nearly 3 months there and I feel like that was my peak in life.

I was studying diligently every day. For once, I made good school friends without a heavy persona. They liked me for a lot of who I am and I reciprocated. One of the students was from New York who transfered to that school the same year like me. I met him in my Spanish class. One of them had a curly afro (but less dense) and it was like brown-ish color. Also in my Spanish class. Cool dude who can do photoshop. The last was someone who I felt closer with. We shared similar music tastes. She would put me on artists and songs and send me songs to rate out of 10 often. I used to never be able to beat her on cup pong on iMessage games.

Until one day, something clicked. I felt like myself change all of a sudden. My mood changed, my air changed, but I can still think logically. I am not sure til this day, but I am pretty sure since that click, the distance between myself and those friends have widended. Eventually, sometime in early/mid October, I moved back here in California and went to the same school as I went to previously. I had seen the same friends but the friend group actually expanded and I got to know them. I was still in a really good state of mind. My goals were clear and I was approachable. I reciprocated back. Mind you, this was the first half of 11th grade.

Going back to what I said earlier, sometime at the end of 11th grade, something clicked and I got depressed. As I am typing this, I now know what the answer is, but I can not change it. I have tried to change it, but it was futile. During summer, I often would have game nights and study sessions with friends and strangers who I met with online.

When school was rolling back and heading into 12th grade, a click happened again. I got depressed even further. I became more emotional for whatever reason. I am sure the reason stemmed from the reason from the click at the end of 11th grade, but I am sure there is something more than that but I can not figure it out.

Anyways, my drive stopped. Motivation ceased. I not studying as diligently anymore. My motherfucking mind is at its all time lowest. I do not know what to do anymore. I am approaching the second semester of 12th grade and I do not see myself in any type of future.

Do I go to the army? Or do I fucking end it all? Both seems reasonable and will definitely help me take my mind off things.

I spent so much time building a persona that did not fit me that I ended up falling in love with a mask of my true self that does not exist anymore.

Happy New Years.

[doberbutts]

Tbh it feels almost like feminism (esp online feminism) was completely taken over by angry teen radfems and now it's completely normalized to hate men and misandry is treated as a joke. I see constant posts about how men are stupid, sexist, predators, all they can do is mansplain or w/e, etc.

As a woman even I don't like talking to feminists these days after sooooo fucking many experiences I had as a young teen on the internet. I used to identify as a radfem but then saw how radfems (and feminists in general tbh) treat other people, including other women, and it was horrifying.

I asked a question about whether the wage gap was actually real in the way people said it was after reading things from actual economists and immediately received a message telling me that I was a pick-me and should get raped. So yeah, definitely not a community that's good at behaving normally.

The idea that men have no issues or don't need any help is soooo insanely prevalent in those communities. If a man complains about a problem he faces due to his gender? Immediately labeled a sexist, MRA, incel, neckbeard, etc.

Men have higher rates of suicide, higher rates of incarceration, higher rates of dying at work and being seen as expendable (made to work in horrific conditions and drafted into wars). Any man who wants a career relating to children or childcare is immediately looked upon with extreme suspicion, etc. Not to mention the fact they have barely ANY resources if they're a victim of domestic violence/rape/assault and will even be blamed and arrested even though they're the victim.

But as soon as anyone brings it up they're torn apart. At this point I just call myself an egalitarian and try to stay as far away from radfems/feminists as possible.

(The answer is that the wage gap is real but it's two pronged- women are often forced into lower wage jobs and forced out of/skipped over for higher paid positions, and women in general are paid less than men of the same demographic for the same job at the same workplace. This is also a set of averages, so sometimes this will not be true on an individual scale but will be true when averaged out on a demographic-wide scale. Often times detractors of this will only mention the first part [women on average work lower wage jobs] without mentioning the second part [women working the same job will on average be paid less than men of the same demographic], so be wary.)

(This can break a bit when it comes to demographics that don't align. Between a white man and a white woman, a white man will likely be paid more for the same job. Between a black man and a white woman, it's very possible for the black man to be paid less for the same job. It's also very possible for him to be paid more. It depends whether his employer is going to swing towards sexism or racism, in complete honesty. When discussing intersection... black women on average get paid less than either of those options for the same job. So there's nuance to it, like everything.)

As said prior, there are feminist circles that still do believe what I mentioned- that treating men as though they are irredeemable scum and like they face no gendered issues whatsoever is only making the problem worse. And I think these circles are the ones who have the right of things, which is why I never really cared for "radical feminism" even if it was trans-inclusive because honestly the idea that there are no problems men face as a result of being men is, well. Wrong. Men have a lot of problems and they're all patriarchal society's fault. Stopping this cycle is the only way forward. These are often the feminists that welcome men into their ranks to learn and grow and teach the next generation how to not be awful, and just one of the reasons why a lot of radfems don't like male feminists.

[suspicious-potatoes]

For men's mental health,

I'd love to hear the reasoning of the people who claim with full confidence that society is made for cishet white males' benefits, that somehow empathy for the the poor, suicidal, socially neglected & villified white men is inappropriate, that such men are fictitious talking points of the far right despite the implications of the suicide rate of men in america alone, that these men aren't being used as the perfect tools and scapegoats of a manipulative ruling class which almost overtly uses disinformation and other well-known tactics of oppression to give people excuses and reasons to not think and to perpetuate the ideological and social division that oppression feeds on, and that they, the ones making these claims, are somehow good people.

Dear "leftists", "feminists", and "allies",

If you don't have empathy for someone based on their demographic, you don't have empathy and are perpetuating class warfare on behalf of the people who don't even give 2 shits about, let alone identify with, your favorite group to hate or you yourself.

In other words, being poor, not white, not christian, not straight, or not male are not the only excuses others look for to exploit you. You could also just happen to be

Exploitable.

For the love of everything good, stop blaming everything on the existence of other people and start calling assholes what they are. Don't advocate for the inversion of oppressive ideologies and think you're in the right. Odds are that if more men felt that they were actually personally valued in their communities, that there was a place for them in society beyond exploitative labor, that there were peaceful and harmonious ways for them to integrate into culture and social systems without being seen as simply a mechanism of potential evil or an emotionless machine of productivity, then maybe supremacist, sexist, and other bigoted ideologies and cultures would be less sustainable and might actually die out to a greater degree. Maybe some boys wouldn't feel so nihilistic that shooting children and people in public is worth feeling influential. Maybe some guys who are obviously not perfect people but also not the devil wouldn't feel resentment towards women or X others for their own struggle to have something worth feeling "proud" of because they're afraid of being even further criticized for needing therapy or having trauma. Maybe some men would think life is worth it and not kill themselves out of a lack of trust in having any kind of a decent future.

How the fuck are men supposed to feel when we're so consistently neglected and the patronized for the problems we develop due to our neglect and stigmatization? Make it make sense

Side note, don't call yourself a leftist if you don't even understand what "the people" refers to or if you think somehow working class white men aren't morally equal to any other working class demographic. But please, by all means try to argue that bla- I mean white men are inherently socially evil predators with absolutely no capacity for compassion and good will who are latent criminals just waiting to turn their blackne- I mean white cishet toxic masculinity that they're obviously all born with against the world.

[waywardrose13]

Deliverance From Evil

Pairing: DARK!Dean Winchester x Reader (?), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 11,054

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, rape, physical and mental/emotional abuse. Ages 18+, virgin!reader, language, mentions of depression/anxiety, curse, purgatory, purgatory!Dean, hateful remarks, negative self image, mentions of suicidal thoughts, not enough editing to satisfy me. Please let me know if I missed any triggers/warnings.

Rating: Mature- 18+!! If I find that you are under 18, you will be blocked. Go read some of my minor friendly stories.

Summary: Dean Winchester had two sides; the selfless, caring man who loved his baby brother, car, and pie; and the cruel, sadistic man who was hell bent on making Y/n’s life a living hell. When Dean, Cas, and Y/n are sucked into Purgatory, things take a turn for the worse. Two years later, Y/n finds herself face to face with the man who broke her. A new discovery leads to Y/n finding out the truth, yet sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid.

A/N- This story is very dark and can be triggering to some readers. Please do not read if any of the above warnings are triggering to you. I have also listed some resources below if you are in need of help. I love you all!

Bingo squares: @spndarkbingo​ (Purgatory!Dean) // @badthingshappenbingo​ (This is for your own good) // @spndeanbingo​ (Soulmates AU)

U.S. National Sexual Violence Hotline:  800.656.4673

U.S. National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800.799.7233

The idea of Purgatory wasn’t what put me on edge. It wasn’t the monsters constantly down your throat, or the blood, sweat, and tears that somehow never seemed to stop. It was Dean Winchester’s sinister stare and cruel remarks that put me on edge.

I didn’t hate the man. If I was being honest, I felt quite the opposite, but it was more of a feeling of distress. Ever since meeting him, something about me had made him loathe me. I wasn’t sure what it was, nor have I ever asked, but whatever it is, I have never been able to make him at least tolerate me. 

Sam and I had met in college. I was a freshman when he was a senior, and he tutored me for a while. We became friends, and soon we found out the both of us had gone to college to escape the hunting life. We grew apart for years, naturally coming back together on a hunt. 

I had been at the bunker with the Winchesters ever since, much to the elder brother’s dismay. And ever since then, Dean had made it his job to make my life a living hell.

It started out as small jabs at me; little comments that had an underlying, cruel meaning to them. Or forgetting to pick me up from police stations, houses, etc, or not bringing back food for me. But slowly, it evolved into something more. He began openly being cruel towards me, saying things that made me cry in bed at night. He’d shove me when Sam wasn’t looking, he’d purposely break my things, bleach my clothes, point out my insecurities for a laugh. 

I honestly thought the bullying ended in high school. 

I hadn’t fallen in love with the person he was towards me. I had fallen in love with the person he was to others. He was selfless and caring. He was brave, intelligent, and had a killer sense of humor. And the simple sight of him made me weak at the knees. But whenever his words were spoken to me, or his glare was pointed at me, I sometimes forgot who he was when he wasn’t hating me.

Something must have been wrong with me. How could I love a man who was so ruthlessly callous to me? Although I had tried to stop the feelings, it was like an inexplicable pull vehemently caused me to fall into a confusing love with this man. It was unstoppable, and however much I prayed or wished for it to leave, the feeling never ceased.

“Hey, Y/N!” I jumped as Dean barked at me, and I snapped myself out of it, looking towards him. “Get your head out of the damn clouds and move your ass.”

I sighed, hoisting my makeshift bag onto my shoulder, trudging after him and Benny. 

After Dean killed Dick Roman, he, Cas and I were swallowed into Purgatory along with the Leviathan, too close to the impact sight, apparently. I immediately knew I was fucked when Dean looked at me dead in the eyes when we landed and told me he’d rather go to hell than be stuck with me in a place like this. 

“We need her, Dean,” Cas had said. Dean had rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“We need her like we need the plague, Cas,” he snarled. I flinched at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I mean for fucks sake.”

“Look, the way I see it, I don’t care if you hate her, but we need all the help we can get. And she’s a good hunter despite everything else you, for some reason, hate about her.” 

It was the first time someone had stood up for me. It wasn’t long, however, before Dean and I were on our own, Cas seemingly taking off after a particularly rough fight. He ignored me the whole time, not saying any words to me, but using his shoulder to roughly shove me out of his way from time to time. The way I saw it, he wasn’t verbally abusing me anymore. I could manage a few shoves.

When Benny joined our team of two, Dean began speaking again, and we continued the search for Cas.

So here we were now, walking through the dense forest of Purgatory, eyes and ears constantly alert. It was like the start of a bad joke; two hunters and a vampire walk through purgatory…

“Don’t mind him, Cher,” Benny murmured to me. “He’s in a mood.”

“He’s always in a mood around me, Benny,” I said. “Nothing I do will ever change that.”

“Benny, quit gossiping with her and get over here,” Dean said, voice hushed. He was crouched down over the edge of a cliff, Benny and I making our way to crouch on either side of him. Dean shot me a dirty look, and he turned slightly towards Benny.

“What is it?” The vampire asked. Dean nodded his head to the valley at the bottom of the ridge.

“Leviathans,” Dean said. “Took out a small pack of wolves a few minutes ago.”

I shivered, watching as one of the leviathans picked up a severed limb, inspecting it before tossing it to the side. 

“Shit. That was our path, wasn’t it?” Benny asked. Dean nodded.

“Yeah, and I’m not really in the mood to get into a fight with a bunch of leviathans right now,” he said. 

“I don’t blame you, chief,” Benny agreed. “But what are we going to do now?”

I glanced to the left, eyes roaming the cliff side. It was high above the creatures below, and it fed to another cliff edge on the other side. It would be above our path, but most likely would run parallel alongside it. There seemed to be good footwells along the cliffside, and I struggled to get the courage up to speak.

“I have an idea,” I said. Both men looked over at me, interest on Benny’s face and annoyance on Dean’s.

“The adults are talking,” Dean said. 

“Let her talk, chief,” Benny said, patting his friend on the back. “Go ‘head, cher.”

I swallowed. “The side of the cliff: it’s hidden by the tops of the trees. But-” I pointed to the other edge- “if we are careful enough, we could climb across and get to the other landing. I’m guessing the otherside runs parallel to our original path, it’ll just be higher.”

“Smart,” Benny said, giving me a smile. “Real good.”

“How the hell are you going to climb across the side of a damn cliff?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “You can barely hold up your axe.”

I bit my lip. “I’ll manage. And I can, too, hold up my axe. I’m not weak.”

Suddenly I was being shoved onto my back, my hands being pressed into the dirt as Dean held my wrists. He straddled my waist, his face inches from mine.

“Push me off,” he hissed, eyes furiously burning through my skull. I struggled beneath his hold. I was strong, but Dean was stronger, and no matter how much I bucked and pushed and pulled, he wouldn’t budge. 

He let go of me for a moment, and I shoved at his chest, quickly being held down again with one hand while his other held a knife to my throat. 

“You know, it would be so easy to end you right now,” he growled. My eyes widened in fear. “I wouldn’t have to hear your whiny, sniveling voice anymore and see your pathetically hideous face.” 

I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes.

“It would put us all out of our misery.”

“That’s enough, Dean,” Benny said, now on his feet. 

“The bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean said, pressing harder. I whimpered, fear clutching my heart in its grasp as he smirked darkly at me. “Don’t you… bitch?” 

“Get off me, Dean,” I said, bucking beneath him again. He laughed, hand squeezing my wrists tighter. “Stop it.”

In a blink of an eye, he had reared the blade back, bringing it shooting back down until it stabbed into the ground beside my head. I flinched away from it, eyes squeezing shut as he was being pulled off me.

“What the hell is your problem?” Benny asked, pushing Dean against a tree. “What the fuck has she ever done to you?”

“What do you mean? Just look at her,” Dean said.

“Give me a reason, chief,” Benny snarled. “Give me one good reason why you terrorize that poor woman.”

Dean hesitated, his mouth agape as he thought for a moment. I was sitting up, hand on my throat as I watched carefully as he closed his mouth and set his jaw, eyes casting downwards.

“That’s what I thought,” Benny muttered, letting him go. Dean took a deep breath, looking up at me for a moment.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He bent down to pick up his sword, slinging it over his shoulder onto his back before making his way to the cliff side.

Benny helped me to my feet, hands cradling my head as he inspected my neck. There was a small nick from Dean’s blade, but I was relatively unscathed.

“Alright, cher,” Benny began, hands gently resting on my shoulders. “You stick with me, okay? I won’t let Dean touch you again.”

I swallowed thickly, nodding my head as he patted my back. He pulled me in for a quick hug before following after Dean.

***

The next three days had gone by in a blur. We had yet to find Cas, and Dean was getting impatient. It was a constant surge of monsters and a constant physical battle with ourselves as we pushed through the fights, trying to swallow back our bile at the blood and guts that inevitably found itself onto our clothes.

I was washing up in the river, a little way through the trees from a camp we had set up for the night. I had carefully peeled off my bloodstained clothes, washing my body as best I could with the river’s water before attempting to clean my jeans and shirt. I scrubbed at them until the blood was simply an ugly stain, tossing the garments onto a nearby rock to dry. I was midway running water over my hair when suddenly arms were lifting me up, eliciting a squeal from my lips. A hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged back behind the rocks. I struggled in the arms of my captor, rearing my head back and bashing it into their nose. They grunted, and they let go.

I spun around, fists raised, eyes widening.

“Dean? What the hell?” I asked, covering my stomach. My chest was still covered by my bra, and the water was deep enough to cover the bottom half of me, but I felt naked under Dean’s intense gaze. I glance around, spotting my clothes on the boulder. I grabbed at them, pulling the shirt over my head before my jeans were ripped away from me and thrown to the side. “Hey!”

His lips crashed against mine in a bruising force, hand tangling in my hair as he snaked an arm around my waist, crushing my body against his. My hands flew to his chest and I tried to push him away, confusion and fear coursing through my veins as he wouldn’t let go.

I bit down on his lip, and he reared back with a small yelp, touching where blood began to seep from the bite. I pulled my shirt on as he was distracted and backed away from him, arms curling around my torso.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, wiping away the blood. I stared at him, mouth dropping.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. He raised a brow. “You don’t just come onto a girl like that! Especially after treating her like you treat me!”

“I… huh?”

“Are you seriously playing dumb right now?” I asked, brows drawing together. “You can’t be that fucking idiotic.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For everything. But here’s the thing,” he said, moving closer to me. I moved back until I was pressed against the rock. “We’ve been here for almost a year, right? Neither of us have gotten any within that time. You just looked hot down here in the water, and I see the way you look at me sometimes so I just thought, ‘hey, why not?’” 

How long had I dreamed a moment like this would happen? Too many times. More than I’d care to admit. But did I really want to be with Dean for the first time like this? With him hating my guts, simply wanting a quick fuck in Purgatory pf all places? Fuck no.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I… I can’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth right now. You think I’m hideous! You’ve said so multiple times, so you’re full of shit! And just so you know, you don’t just jump onto a girl and assume she wants the same thing you do. Besides, who wouldn’t be attracted to you, for fuck’s sake? It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! God, Dean! You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you…”

“Yes, you do! You’ve bullied me like a damn middle schooler since the moment you met me!”

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Fine. You know what? Forget it.” He moved past me, stopping for a second. “And all have you know, it’s not that I hate you. It’s just that I can’t stand to be around you for more than ten minutes without wanting to put a gun in my mouth. And you’re right, I do think you’re hideous, and my god does your personality make you fucking ugly inside and out. If you don’t want work done on your face, at least work on that. Maybe then you could find someone willing to put up with you.”

He left then, leaving me speechless. I collapsed against the rock, silent sobs racking my body. I hated myself, and Dean thrived on that fact. I had no idea what I had ever done to him, nor did I understand how someone could be so cruel. But there was one thing I did know for sure; Dean Winchester was absolutely hell bent on breaking me.

***

I combed my hair out with my fingers, eyes staring out over the water. 

It was nearly a week after my confrontation with Dean, and he had gone back to ignoring me. I was okay with it, not minding the silence after the cruel words. I always relied on my friendship with Benny to get me through, but it seemed as though he was pulling away from me, too.

I sighed, my hands finding themselves on the dirt beneath me. They were filthy, no matter how many times I scrubbed at them with moss and water, the blood and mud wouldn’t rid itself from my skin.

Suddenly, something went soaring through the air in front of my face, a blade lodging itself in the tree beside me. I fell back, flattening myself on the ground as I looked to the side, seeing Dean standing twenty feet from me, a dark smirk on his face, Benny shaking his head behind him.

“What the hell, Dean!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” he said, walking towards me. He reached past me, eyes locked on mine as he retrieved the knife from the bark. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Don’t be so… are you fucking with me?” I asked, watching as he turned around and shrugged off his jacket. 

“Just drop it, cher,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. I set my jaw and turned away, swallowing back the anger brewing inside my chest. I folded my arms over each other, biting down on my tongue until I drew blood. “I’m going to scout the area. See if I can’t find a better place to set up camp.”

I inwardly groaned at the thought of being alone with Dean, and watched from the corner of my eye as Benny made his way through the trees, Dean leaning against one to stare at me. He was twirling his blade around in his fingers, his smirk not fading from his face. I shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Dean began.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I muttered. He stopped twirling the knife, smirk fading to replace his expression with a stoic, hard one. 

“I’ll give you one more chance at this, Y/N,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, and I backed away a bit. 

“At what?” I asked, now pressed against a tree. Dean didn’t stop moving until he could press his palm against the tree, leaning into it as he bent down until he was eye level with me.

“I think you know.” His eyes flickered down to my lips, his tongue running out to wet his own. I shivered as he lowered his face to the side of my head, nose pressing into my hair to take a deep breath in. 

“Dean, please, I don’t-”

“You know, I bet you’re still a virgin,” he interrupted, ignoring my words. I tried pushing against his chest but he took my hands in his, bringing them behind my back and crushing me further into the tree. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone. Although, I’m not surprised.”

“Dean, stop it,” I said harshly, but once again my words went unheard, and he nipped my collarbone.

“Fuck, a virgin pussy sounds so good right now.”

“I said stop, Dean!” I cried, pushing harder against him. He retaliated, quickly holding both of my hands in one of his in order to press against my throat with the other.

“I don’t give a fuck about what you said,” he hissed. “The only reason you’re alive is because of me. Face it, you wouldn’t have made it on your own, and the only reason that I haven’t killed you myself yet is because Sam would kill me when we get back.” He crushed his lips to mine, all teeth and rough pressure as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. He rolled his hips against me, and my stomach churned. “I haven’t had any in a long time, Y/N. I need to let off some steam, and you owe me.” He pulled back to look into my teary eyes. “Answer me this… are you a virgin?”

I clenched my jaw. “Let go of me.”

He growled and slapped me, a yelp escaping my lips as he gripped my chin, bashing my head back against the bark. “I will find out one way or another, I’m just curious.”

I swallowed, teeth sinking into my tongue. I’ve had two boyfriends in the past, if I could even call them that. I had only gone on a few dates with both of them, but never went further than second base. I was twenty-four and never worried about still being a virgin. 

Until now.

I didn’t want my first time being like this; raped in purgatory by the man who hates me, and who I was utterly afraid of; raped by a man I had unwillingly fallen in love with.

I gave a short nod, and he smiled darkly. “Not surprising, but definitely exciting.” 

“Dean, please don’t do this,” I said, struggling against his hold. “Please.”

“Benny will be back soon, so we need to make this quick,” he said. And suddenly, his hand was off my throat and on the button of my jeans. 

“No!” I snarled, trying to kick at him, but he wedged his knee between my legs, and I was completely trapped. 

His hand was inside my pants and down the front of my panties without hesitation, and I cringed at the thought of the dirt and blood that coated both of our skin. His fingers ran through my folds, thumb finding my clit quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea washed over me, and my body went rigid at the alien feeling of someone else’s hands down there. A tear trickled down my cheek, and Dean bent forward to lick it up.

“Come on, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “Just go with it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.”

I reared back as far as I could to spit in his face. He flinched back in surprise, his face morphing from cocky and dark to menacing, and I was thrown to the ground roughly within a second, Dean quickly hovering over me and holding me down before I could move away.

“I was trying to make this better for you, I truly was,” he said, beginning to undo his belt. I shuddered and squirmed beneath him. “But now, you’ve just pissed me off. So I don’t give a fuck if you’re ready or not.”

He shoved his jeans down far enough to free his cock from his boxers, moving back to tear at my own jeans and panties and drag them down my legs. I flipped around and began crawling away, but he gripped my ankle and turned me around onto my back.

“I want to see you,” he grunted, hands spreading my legs enough for him to fit between them. I looked down at his prick, eyes widening as I saw the size of him, and he laughed. “You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself a few times before lining up with my entrance. I didn’t stop struggling, hands trying to claw at his face, my eyes blurring from my tears. He gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands while the other held himself until the tip was resting against me, and then he moved his hand to grip my waist harshly. 

He forced himself inside me in one painful thrust, and a scream of pain was ripped from my throat. Dean smirked, relishing in the fact he had just torn through my virginity with such cruelty and violence. He groaned as he began to move. My hands slumped against him, knowing it was no use. He was much stronger than me, and he had already gotten what he wanted.

“I knew you’d like this,” he hissed in my ear, pulling out just to snap back in. “A bitch born to take a cock. My cock.”

The last shred of my innocence was taken within a second, and each time he shoved himself inside me, it took everything in me not to burst into tears. I turned my face away from him, eyes squeezed as tight as I could in order to try and disassociate myself, praying that this was simply but a dream. 

But as he hiked up my leg around his waist to angle himself deeper inside me, I knew it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare, one born to tear down my walls and shatter the last of my will. I knew Dean Winchester was intent on breaking me, but I didn’t know he’d take it to such extremes.

“Shit,” he cursed, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t go any further. I bit my lip to keep in my cries of pain, nails sinking into the palms of my hand.

His hips began to stutter, his movements choppy and I knew he was close. I dug my nails in deeper until I felt blood trickle from my fingers. His hand gripped my jaw, turning my head.

“Look at me,” he growled, holding himself to the hilt inside me until I complied. He smirked at the tears that trickled from my eyes, and slammed himself home once, twice, three more times before he came. He held his hips flush to my pelvis, eyes still locked with mine as he spilled himself inside me. 

He gave a few more lazy humps, making sure he didn’t waste a single drop of his come before slipping out, sitting back on his haunches and taking a deep breath. “Wow.”

I sniffled, scooting as far away as possible as I pulled up my panties and jeans with shaky hands, trying to hold back the sobs and failing. I brought my hand up to my mouth, biting my sleeve to stifle the cries threatening to echo off the trees, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Dean said smiling. He laughed, shaking his head. “You felt better than I thought.” He sighed, standing up then and looked down at me. “Benny will be back soon. So pull yourself together before then. Say one word to him about this, I’ll kill you.”

I nodded in understanding, and he grunted.

He grabbed his axe and turned away, trudging off into the woods for his usual search for firewood.

In the five minutes he was gone, I took the time to pack up the few belongings I had, and without turning back, I ran for the hills.

Two Years Later

The nightmares never faded.

They had become less frequent, yet every few days or so, I’d run from the images inside my own head, battling demons within me instead of on the battlefield. Being scared of someone or something is one thing, but being scared of your own mind, your own dreams, was an entirely different thing, and it took strength to lay down and risk the possibility of reliving old trauma.

Yet, it was inevitable, after everything that had happened. Therapy helped, so did the anti-depressants and anxiety pills I took each night. But the truth of the matter was, the memories of Purgatory were always there, and the guilt and shame never faded, it simply turned into a dull ache that never truly went away.

Running from Dean, I was sore and bleeding, and all I cared about was keeping as much distance between him and I as possible. I listened to the whispers of the monsters, making sure I was never too close. 

Dean got out before I did, just two months after I ran, and it was only a few days later that I found the portal. I didn’t even try to contact Sam, because where Sam went, Dean went. 

Instead, I changed my name and set up a life for myself in a small town up in the mountains of West Virginia. I got a job at a police station as a victim advocate, got an apartment, and never once looked back. 

Quitting hunting wasn’t easy, and every once in a while I’d take a case close to home. But I typically stayed within the state, not wanting to risk running into the brothers on a hunt. 

Over those two years, I slowly began to rebuild my walls. However, in a split second, it all came crumbling down again.

It was a Monday afternoon in October. A cool front had washed over the Virginias and Maryland, finally carrying a crisp, sweet wind to cool our skin from the sweltering heat of the summer.

I was walking back to the station from lunch, having ran to a sandwich shop a block away. I was chewing on my lip and thinking about a particular case when I saw it; the sleek black coat of the Impala.

I felt my stomach drop, and I felt like I would be sick. Surely it couldn’t be the brothers. Other people had this particular car, too. But my fears were confirmed when the door to the station opened, and Sam walked out into the wind, leaves scattering around his feet, Dean right behind him. 

I was frozen with fear. All the progress I had made had diminished in a second. I wanted to turn and run the other way. I wanted to duck into the alley and wait until they were gone. But I couldn’t move. My limbs were suddenly planted and my body lost the ability to move as the man who had made my life hell for years and haunted my dreams stepped into the sun. 

Sam looked around as Dean led the way to the Impala. There was nothing I could do as his eyes landed on me, the surprised look on his face making me wince, the fearful one on mine catching him off guard.

“Y/N?” He asked. I saw Dean stiffen at the sound of my name, and I suddenly regained the ability to move. I spun on my heel and rushed into the alley, hoping to make it around to the back of the station and slip inside unseen. But Sam’s long legs made it so he was faster than me, and no amount of sprinting could keep me far enough away. He stepped in front of me, and my eyes widened. “Y/N… I… You’re alive.”

I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder. I tensed as I saw Dean at the end of the alley, his face hard and jaw clenched as he met my eyes. I looked back at Sam, shaking my head and stepping around him.

“I have to get back to work,” I said, trying to push past him.

“Wait!” He said, gripping my arm. I flinched, and he let go immediately.

“Sam,” I said, looking up at him. He tilted his head in confusion at the look of defeat on my face. “Please.”

“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Dean said you were dead. That you died when you were in Purgatory.”

“A part of me did,” I admitted. Sam’s face darkened at my words, and I looked away. “And if you love me, you’d stay away from me. For good.”

“I thought I lost my best friend, Y/N,” Sam said. “I can’t just let you go now, knowing you’re alive.”

“Sam, please,” I begged. “Please.”

“Why?” He demanded.

“Just let her be, Sam.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked back over towards Sam. Dean had caught up to us and was standing beside his brother now, a dark look on his face. His stare was icy, and it sent shivers down my spine. I shivered when he licked his lips, eyes raking up and down my body and suddenly I was back in Purgatory, his predatory gaze sending me reeling to a time of pain and misery.

“Y/N!” 

I jumped, realizing Sam had been trying to get my attention for some time now. I looked up at him, worrying my lip, tears filling my eyes. “Sam, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what? Why did Dean lie? What the hell happened in Purgatory?” He asked.

“Dean didn’t…” I trailed off, rolling my eyes with a scoff. “No, I guess he wouldn’t tell you what happened.”

“Y/N,” Dean warned, stare turning deadly.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, you can tell me anything.”

“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Your brother will kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I won’t let him,” Sam said. “Now please, I miss my best friend. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” I said. “Not anymore. Purgatory was shitty in itself, but Dean…”

I was suddenly pushed up against the brick wall, a yelp escaping me as Dean’s hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. I shivered in fear, visibly shaking as his lips curled into a snarl.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to pry his brother off me.

“What did I tell you would happen if you told anyone?” Dean hissed. I beat at his hands, trying to kick out at him. 

“Dean…”

“I’ll kill ‘ya,” he said. “I’ll do it right now. Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Tears trickled down my cheeks, and Sam was able to tear Dean off me, pushing him up against the opposite wall.

“What the fuck?” He yelled. He pushed off his brother, turning towards me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His voice softened then. “Are you okay?”

“I really need to… to get back to work,” I whispered. I was still shaking, and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly, almost as if he was trying to steady me.

“Can I come see you after work? I’ll meet you here and walk you home?” 

I glanced over Sam’s shoulder towards Dean. His jaw was set, and he gave a shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I murmured. I watched a smirk grow on Dean’s face, and I shivered.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t care. I’ll meet you here, okay? At five?”

I nodded.

“Okay. See you then.” He turned slightly. “He won��t be coming, don’t worry.”

The brothers stared at each other intently, and I scurried off as quick as I could, clutching the brown bag in my hand to my chest, not trusting my hands not to shake.

It was my luck that they would end up here, out of all the towns and all the cases in the continental U.S., they had to end up here. There was one thing I was sure about; I wouldn’t be meeting Sam, nor would I be going back to work. I forgot all about my few belongings in the office, beelining to my car, readying myself to pack and be out of town by tonight.

***

I didn’t have much in terms of belongings. It didn’t take long to pack, and I had no set destination. If I had a set destination, I could be found. 

I was taping up the few boxes I had, picking up a few odds and ends, figuring I would leave the furniture and have the building owner sell it. Just as I was finishing, three sound knocks were rapped on my door.

I froze. 

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I hadn’t made any friends since moving to town. No one would be coming here unannounced. No one except the Winchesters. They had their ways of finding where I lived. Sam probably asked around the station.

“Fucking Sam,” I muttered to myself. I pushed myself up off the floor, stalking to my front door. “So not cool.”

I unlocked the door, keeping the deadbolt in, before opening it.

My heart jumped to my throat.

“Dean?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t show up to your meet-up with Sammy,” he said. He glanced around my door, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Simple and plain. It suits you.”

“Go away, Dean,” I said. “I have cop friends and I’m not afraid to call them. Just go.”

Dean laughed. “Please. We both know you’re not friends with any of them. Besides, what would you tell them? You know what will happen if you say anything.”

“Fuck off, Dean,” I hissed. I went to close the door, but Dean was quick to stick his foot out, wedging it between the door and the frame.

“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “Won’t you invite me in, little pig?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Oh, but why?” He asked, smirking. “You scared?”

I lifted my chin, standing up straighter. “No.”

He chuckled darkly, bending slightly to meet my eye level. “I think we both know that’s a lie, little pig.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Dean,” I hissed. I kicked at his foot sharply, unwedging it, promptly slamming my door shut in the process, turning the lock. I backed away from the door, feeling under the small table near the front door for my gun.

I screamed as my door was kicked in, wood splintering off the frame. Dean laughed, stepping past the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. It didn’t quite close all the way, but enough so Dean could slip the chain into its lock.

“Here’s Johnny,” he teased, smiling. My eyes widened, and I gripped the gun, ripping it from its confinement, lifting my arm to shoot. Dean moved quickly, knocking the gun from my hand, pushing me back against the wall. He thrusted forward, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.

“Miss me?”

“Get away from me!” I screeched. “Help! Somebody please help me!”

I sobbed as he fisted his hand in my hair, bashing my head back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “Almost telling Sammy about our little roll around. What did I tell you, hmm? Have you told anyone else?”

My eyes were blurred from the tears. Somehow my nightmares were coming true. Somehow hell had shown up at my front door, rearing its ugly head and laughing as fear twisted my insides and made my head spin. What had I done to deserve this?

“No,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Please just leave me alone.”

He ran a hand down my face, thumb smearing my tears across my skin. “Oh, but I can’t do that. You disobeyed me. You made Sam skeptical. You must be punished.”

“No,” I cried. “Please, Dean. Please don’t do this.”

He gripped my hair tighter, jerking me down the hall, my fists beating against him the whole time, fighting, kicking, screaming. He simply bent down, picking me up, and carried me into my room. He threw me onto my bed, hands gripping my thighs as he flipped me over onto my stomach.

“Now, bad girls must be punished,” he said. He reached underneath me, fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I kicked back at him, my heel meeting the fleshy part of his thigh. He grunted, and I clawed away from him, but he simply pulled me back down. “Well, that just made things so much worse for you.”

He yanked my jeans down, throwing them somewhere in the room, hands tearing at my simple cotton panties. Tears blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to crawl away. I fisted my hands on the mattress, trying to somehow escape from his hold. 

I cried out as his palm collided with my ass.

“Tell me, have you been with anyone else since me?” He asked. I sobbed, screeching behind clenched teeth as he hit me again. “Answer me, bitch.”

“No,” I said. He laughed. I hadn’t heard him take off his belt, but I heard the snap as he pulled it taut. “No, no, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he laughed. He brought the belt down, letting it smack against my bare skin. The sting radiated through my back. Dean was strong, and each time his arm was brought down, the belt would send another striking shot of fire through my body. I was frozen with pain and fear. Dean didn’t have to hold me down after a while. I couldn’t move. “This is for your own good, Y/n.”

I didn’t know how long he struck me. Over, and over, and over he striked, and I lost count after twenty. My hands were clenched in the mattress cover, tears soaking the fabric beneath me, clouding my vision.

I finally heard him throw the belt aside, and his hands curled around my hips, lifting my bottom into the air gently. He softly caressed my skin, and I jumped when I felt his lips touch the welts. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed my lower back slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I froze, not sure what I was supposed to do. I knew moving was out of the question. I was in too much pain to move. Confusion sunk into my bones as he slowly kissed up my back, until he was hovering over me.

He turned me slowly, gently placing me on my back, eyes looking down at me. He tilted his head, thumb wiping away my tears. “Hey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry?” I whispered. “How do you expect me to be okay with all of this, Dean? You broke me in Purgatory. You’ve haunted my dreams for the past two years. Then you do this? Just kill me and get it over with. Please.”

He shook his head, furrowing his brows. “I’m not here to kill you. I actually, believe it or not, came to apologize. But as soon as you opened the door I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Like I believe that,” I hissed. “Just get the fuck out.”

His jaw ticked, and suddenly his resolve faded. For a second I saw remorse, and now? Fire raged behind his leaf green eyes. I felt his whole body tense against me. I felt him… grow… beneath me.

“Fuck no,” I said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I rolled away from him, landing on my back on the wood floor. I cried out as my raw skin made impact, but I pushed myself up quickly. Dean was up now, his eyes hard and piercing. 

“Come here, little pig,” he snarled. I spun and dashed towards the bathroom. He leaped over the bed after me, but I was already inside, locking the door quickly. I heard shuffling, and I knew I needed to think fast. I spotted the window and yanked my robe off the hook, slipping it on. I stepped onto the toilet, pushed the window open, and peered down the three flights my apartment was up. I swallowed thickly, glancing back at the bathroom door. The doorknob was jiggling, and I knew he was picking the lock. Mustering up the courage, I hoisted myself up and swung my legs over. The door suddenly burst open, our eyes locking.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just as he lunged forward, I let go, feeling the rush of air and my heart plummet to my stomach. My eyes were wide as I watched the ground rush up on me all too quickly. I tried ducking my shoulder to attempt to roll, hopefully saving my legs and head in the process, but I couldn’t quite get there. I felt something snap as I hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in my ears as I landed on my side. 

“Y/n!”

That voice was different. That voice was angelic... kind. Sam.

“Oh my god,” he said. He bent down, hands cradling my face as he looked into my eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Are you alright? Jesus- of course you’re not alright, you jumped from a fucking window to get away from my brother. God, Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why does he hate me so?” I whimpered before everything went dark.

***

“Should she be asleep this long?”

“Her body is healing. It’s up to her now.”

***

“Get the fuck out.”

“Sam… I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t come up with these-these lame ass excuses. I saw what you did, and I have an idea about purgatory. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”

***

“She will stay with me.”

“And you are?”

“Her brother.”

***

I jolted awake. My body was on fire, my head pounding with a dull ache. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light above my head. A beeping sound came from my right, and a quick glance showed an EKG meter. A fucking hospital.

My shoulder was bandaged and arm in a sling. My knee had a brace on it. My behind felt raw as shit.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I tried to sit up.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice. 

“Sam.”

“God, Y/n… I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told him.

“No, but I should have known. I should have done something. God, I can’t believe it.”

I sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the scratchy blanket that was laid over me. I furrowed my brows.

“Sam… did Dean tell you what happened in purgatory?”

Sam swallowed thickly. “No. But I can guess.”

I nodded slowly. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”

“Have you?” Sam asked.

“My therapist,” I replied.

“A therapist?”

“Yeah. I needed one,” I said. “I was… broken when I got out. I was getting so much better, Sam. I felt like me again. Sure, I still had the nightmares sometimes but… I wasn’t always looking over my shoulder.” My lip wobbled as I fought back tears. “Damn him.”

“God, Y/n/n. I can’t believe it. It just seems so… not Dean,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sam, I know you mean well, but please stop saying sorry,” I said. He smiled and blushed.

“Sorry.” He cringed. I laughed.

“Stop it,” I told him, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed too, grabbing my hand. He kissed my knuckles.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “But I knew that where you went, Dean went.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

Sam and I both looked at the door, a plump woman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, glasses pristinely balanced on her nose, lips lined with deep red lipstick. She looked like a T.V. doctor, not a doctor in middle-of-nowhere West Virginia.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. She checked my vitals and IV bag.

“Sore,” I replied.

“Your brother here has offered to take you home,” she said. I looked pointedly at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Look here.”

She shined a light into my eyes, checked my bandages, and determined that I could go home as long as I was supervised for 48 hours. I silently wondered where Dean was, hoping I wasn’t going to see him. If Sam was taking me home, who knows what would happen? Dean knew where I lived. But if Sam was there, perhaps he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.

***

“Are you alright?”

Sam gently placed me onto the motel bed, careful not to hurt me. His brows were furrowed in worry and his lips were pursed into a frown. I let out a shaky laugh.

“No,” I said. “But I’ll get there.”

“Y/n, I’m so-”

“Stop it!” I scolded. “What did I say?”

“Not to apologize anymore?” He said slowly.

“That’s correct,” I said. I laid back onto the pillows, which were worn, but on my sore shoulder and back, they honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Now, mama needs to rest.”

Sam snorted. “Okay… mama.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me, Samuel.” He raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, mama,” he said. “I’ll call Cas. He can heal you.”

I perked up at Castiel’s name. The gentle angel and I had been good friends. I heard whispers about him too, while in purgatory that is. I shivered at the thought of that place and…

No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I was safe with Sam. Surely Dean couldn’t find us here. Right? Sam would have taken measures to keep him from doing so.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen…”

Sam’s voice trailed off as he stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, the room turned eerie. The air conditioner hummed loudly under the window, producing some sound in the empty room. It was confining. I shifted on the bed, wincing as my shoulder moved in an odd way. I adjusted my sling to a more comfortable position. I hated these things.

I sighed deeply, glancing towards the door again. I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. Alone. It wasn’t an odd sensation to me. I had been alone for the last two years. But I had slipped so easily back into the comfortable familiarity that was once me and Sam. I had missed him so much. He was my best friend, my confidant. Being around him again was liberating. It lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Telling someone what had happened in purgatory, besides a therapist, lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Of course, Dean would kill me if he knew. But it felt good to get it out, not have it bottled up. Dr. Ramirez was great, of course. But she wasn’t Sam. Wasn’t a friend. 

However, now that the room was empty apart from me, the only sounds of the air unit and the springs of the old bed creaking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Vivid images of Dean flashed before my eyes. Of purgatory, across the street at work, the alley, my apartment. Damn him. Damn him for abusing me so. Damn him for not caring. Damn him for giving me a false sense of hope when he spared a silver of remorse. And damn me for loving him.

Did I still? No, I didn’t think so. Not the Dean who hates me. Who hurt me and raped me and tormented me. Not that Dean. Perhaps the Dean who loved his little brother beyond comprehension. The Dean who would throw himself in the line of fire for a stranger. The Dean who sacrificed everything for the world, the world that was so cruel to him. 

Fuck. Of course I still loved that Dean. It was like two separate fucking people. A Dean who would light up at the sight of pie and tell you everything about a band he liked simply because he wanted to share something he loved with you. A Dean who was so selfless, you would need to make sure he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed for absolutely no reason but to save a fucking dog. He would have one look on his face, and then turn to me. That look would turn cold. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, would turn to ice in a split second. That voice that dripped of rum and sticky honey tore through my heart like daggers in ice. How could someone be so cruel? 

A sob escaped my lips. I was so tired of crying. I hated crying. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand from my good arm. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. 

Luckily, Sam opened the door then. It made me jump slightly. Castiel was behind him. I grinned.

“Cas.”

“Y/n,” he said warmly. He walked over to the bedside. He rested a hand on my good shoulder. Cas wasn’t one for touchy-feely shit. But with me, he was always more comfortable with it.

“I’m going to heal you,” he said matter-of-factly. I gave him a nod, a light shining from his hand. A warmth filled me, starting from my head and reaching to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I felt better. I gave him a grin, which faltered at the look on his face. 

“Cas?” I asked. “What is it?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s… it’s a curse.”

“What is?” Sam questioned. He stood up from his seat at the small table by the window. I glanced at him.

“You have had a curse placed on you. An old one. I’ve seen it before, though. In heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before now. Perhaps since I hadn’t had to heal you before.”

“A curse in heaven?” I asked.

“It was designed by the archangels. It was to keep soulmates apart.”

“What?” Sam said. “Soulmates? Surely you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Cas said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

Sam furrowed his brows at that. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay, so a curse. What kind of curse?” I asked. “Who’s my soulmate?”

“The curse is complicated. It can only be placed on one soulmate, and the cursed mate would need to be an interference with a plan from heaven or God himself. ”

“What sort of interference?” Sam asked. Cas hummed.

“Y/n must have stood in the way of her soulmate’s destiny. Her path must cross with them, meaning that she would have altered the path chosen for her mate by heaven. The curse makes it so one of the soulmates hates the other for no particular reason. They can be downright evil towards them. Y/n’s soulmate, if she ever comes across them, may even want to kill her. The curse causes one of the soulmates to do terrible things to the other. They can act one way, and their soulmate walks into the room, suddenly they are filled with an unexplainable rage. There are times where the soulmate can feel remorse or even come to love the one who was cursed. However, the second they lie eyes on the cursed soulmate, their hatred returns.”

Holy fuck.

“If you don’t mind, Y/n,” Cas continued. “Would you mind letting me touch your soul? It should tell me who your soulmate is. I know every path for every human soul. I should be able to see.”

“I… I think I may know who it is,” I said softly. Suddenly my blood ran cold. It felt as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in a single second. Soulmate may want to kill me. They will hate me. Do terrible things to me. They are suddenly remorseful, but once again turn evil once they lie eyes on me. Fucking hell.

“Who?” Castiel asked. I looked to Sam, who was staring at the ground. I saw it dawn on him, saw the realization flash across his face. His head snapped up to mine.

“Dean.”

***

“Are you fucking joking?”

I flinched at his words. Dean stared- no, glared- at me from his chair. He was chained to a chair in the dungeon. “Precaution” Sam had said. Dean wasn’t too happy with it. I sat in a chair about six feet from him, right outside the devil’s trap. His lip curled into a snarl.

“I’ll fucking kill myself if this bitch is my so called soulmate.”

“I’ve already touched her soul, Dean,” Castiel said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay? And?” Dean prompted.

“Not only is she cursed, but she’s your soulmate.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

“The archangels placed the curse on her at birth. When they found out she was to be your soulmate, they cursed her in order to keep her from interfering with their plan to have you as Michael’s vessel. If she wasn’t cursed, they foresaw the two of you already together; married and two children.”

My heart ached. I could have had that? Instead, my soulmate had abused, raped, and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. Great.

“Gag,” Dean said. He spit at the ground towards me. “You told them. You know what would happen if you did. You’re fucking dead.”

“Sam,” I said quietly. I looked up at him. He gently placed a hand at the back of my head in a comforting gesture.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Now, there is a way to remove the curse. It is painful, and tedious, but it may allow you two to venture forth into a soulmate’s relationship.”

“Fuck that.”

“I can’t.”

Although said at the same time, all eyes turned to me.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Cas asked. Sam sighed.

“Cas, not now.”

“I mean I can’t be with someone who-who was so cruel to me. You don’t know the specifics of purgatory,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. My lip threatened to wobble. I sunk my teeth into it. “When this is done, I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”

“Y/n,” Sam said. “When this curse is lifted, the Dean who did those things to you will not exist.”

“It’s true,” Cas said. “The curse alters your soulmate in a way that they’re unrecognizable. It turns their personality completely sour, turning them into a new person. The Dean that will be shown to you when this is over will be the real Dean, the Dean you saw when you weren’t near him. When you’re cursed, it’s like he’s possessed by an alien body.”

“But it’s still his face. His hands. His… everything.” I shuddered. 

“That was fun, wasn’t sweetheart?” Dean said. “I still remember how you felt. Tight virgin… Mmmm. Once I’m free of these chains, I may take you again. Maybe I’ll claim your ass this time.

“Enough, Dean!” Sam barked loudly. “Cas.”

“You ready, Y/n?” Castiel asked. I looked up at him, to Dean, and back again.

“Yeah, just one thing first-” I looked at Dean, right in the eye- “Go to hell you son of a bitch.”

Then Castiel’s hands were on the sides of my head, a blinding pain searing behind my eyes, and all I saw was black.

***

“Sam, how am I supposed to live with it?”

“You just do. It wasn’t you. It was the fucking archangels. They did this to her. Not you.”

“It was still… me. I just couldn’t stop it. God, I can’t believe I…”

“Hey. Stop it. I mean it, okay? You beating yourself up with it will not help you in the end. When she wakes up, she’s going to need us. Okay? She’s going to have to re-learn trust and-and love and learn to trust you.”

“If she wants to leave, we need to let her leave. I don’t blame her if she hates me. You heard what she said, Sam. She said she can’t. And I get it. I understand. I don’t want to put her through anymore pain, okay? She needs to live without fear and without pain and suffering. She’s a good, beautiful person inside and out. She didn’t deserve anything I did to her.”

“It wasn’t you!”

“It was, dammit! It was my hands, my body, my fucking words. God, Sam. We may have been cursed, but it was still me. Okay?”

“You heard Cas. It’s like you were possessed. It wasn’t you. Fucking get it through your thick skull.”

“Tell that to her then. If she believes it, I will. This is about her. Not me.”

I could register their conversation. Feel the dull ache in my head. Smell the faint smell of the lavender incense I used to like to burn. The issue was getting my eyes to open.

With heavy lids, I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open. The brothers stopped talking and I could feel them staring at me. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing at my temple.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sam said slowly. “You feeling okay?”

“If you consider feeling like you’ve been hit by a train ‘okay,’” I said. “Fuck.”

I looked up at them both, Sam’s eyes warm and lips curled into a sympathetic smile. I forced myself to look at Dean. His eyes were focused intently on his hands, but I could see his jaw clenched and chest moving quickly as he took rapid breaths. His leg bounced repeatedly. He was nervous?.

He looked up at me finally, taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, before letting it back out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied lowly. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.

“No,” I said quickly. Dean winced, but I ignored it. Like hell I would be left alone with him. “Cas did it? The curse is gone?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah it’s gone. Dean um… Dean’s fixed, I guess you could say.”

“Is he?” I asked bitterly. 

“Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t have words. I can’t express how sorry I am.” I looked down at my hands. “There aren’t words to describe the guilt I have. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m just so, so sorry.”

I took a deep breath before responding. “At least I know why I loved you for so long.”

That clearly was not what he was expecting to hear. “W-what?”

“Before purgatory, when things didn’t… escalate… I loved you. I loved the you that wasn’t around me. I thought I was fucked up, loving someone who was so cruel to me. But now I know I couldn’t help it. You’re my soulmate. What are the fucking odds?”

His lip quirked slightly. “I… I loved you too. The me that wasn’t around you. It honestly was like two different… me’s essentially. I loved you, and every time I wasn’t around you, I told myself to apologize and fucking fix myself. But then I’d see you and… this anger just consumed me. I couldn’t understand why. And then in purgatory, being around you 24/7, it’s like everything was heightened. I just wanted to make you hurt.”

I flinched and his face softened. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“No, I want to hear this. I want to understand what you were feeling,” I said. “Maybe it will help me… differentiate you from, you know… cursed you.”

He nodded before continuing. “Like I said, being around you constantly made everything worse. It was like the anger and hatred all heightened. So the night that I… hurt you… I wanted to cause you such profound pain. But I didn’t want to kill you. I think deep down, even cursed, I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. Although the curse hated you, I loved you. You were always so gentle and kind. You’re easily one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and funny and innocent. I fell in love with you, and the curse despised that. It wanted to hurt you. And it did. And for that, I can not apologize enough. What I did… it’s unimaginable. I am so sorry, Y/n.”

We simply sat looking at each other for a moment. Sam sat uncomfortably beside Dean. He glanced between the two of us.

“You’re stressing me out, Sam,” I said finally. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Dean and me.

I cleared my throat and fiddled with the edge of the blanket laid over me. “I… I don’t know what to say, Dean. I really don’t.” 

“Don’t say anything, then,” he murmured.

“I want to forgive and forget. Lord do I want to forget. But this isn’t something you can overcome so easily,” I said. “I was so close to being fixed. I was so much better, but you showing up at my apartment and beating the shit out of me like that… it tore down the foundation I had built back up.”

“I had come to apologize,” he said. “And then I saw you and it all went away.”

“I know,” I told him. “It confused the fuck out of me, your fucking mood swing.”

He whistled. “No shit. It confused me.”

We sat in silence for another moment. I wasn’t scared per se, just uncomfortable. If he was “fixed,” I had nothing to fear. I knew I had nothing to fear from Dean now. However, I would never forget the malice and callousness he showed me for years. That night in purgatory was forever seared into my brain. That trauma and heartache and pain would live with me forever. It didn’t matter if he was fixed or cured or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It still happened. It was still at his hands. That’s not something to simply get over.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “If someday you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me, then that’s your business. I don’t deserve it and I’m not expecting it. But maybe, if you’ll let us try, to start over, someday we could become friends.”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Dean.”

I watched his face flash with an emotion I couldn’t quite explain, before masking his emotions. “I understand.”

“Maybe,” I told him. “Don’t bank on it.”

Dean gave me a small smile. “I’m in your hands, Y/n. I’ll be here if you want. And if not, then I respect that.”

I yawned then and Sam stood slowly. “Let’s give her some rest, Dean. She’s had a long week.”

Dean nodded at his brother and gave one last look at me.

“I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll live with this guilt until the day I die. I hope… I hope you find the happiness and peace you deserve.” He gave me a tight lipped smile and closed the door behind him, evidently taking all weight in the room with him. I let out a deep breath that I had been holding and rubbed at my temples. I laid back onto the pillows, letting my eyes trace designs on the ceiling in the dark of the room.

Sleep found me not long after, and no matter what knowledge I had now, or the safety that was Sam across the hall, I had no control of the nightmares that plagued my dreams and danced behind my eyes. Dean Winchester may have been cured. He may be himself around me now. However, what he did will forever live with me, and no angel cure or spell undoing will ever change that. 

And so, I walked through the valley of darkness that were my dreams, and I battled the demons caused by the man who stayed down the hall from me. Yet I slept, knowing that what tormented me behind closed eyes was no longer alive, and the man who had broken through the chains around my heart all those years ago was back and in the foreground. Though I wasn’t sure what my feelings were towards him now, knowing that what he did to me was the result of an archangel curse, I did know that perhaps someday, once we tread through the tumultuous ground that was fear and contradiction, we may learn to live in peace with one another, even if he had loved me and hated me; even if I had loved him and hated him. Yet the most important thing, the thing that allowed me to rest, if not soundly, but at all, was the fact that he no longer wanted me dead, nor did he want my blood on his hands. 

So though nothing was back to normal, and I didn’t plan on being around Dean anytime soon, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. Maybe I could finally find the solace and peace that I deserved. I think the world at least owes me that.

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[jungkookiebus]

Hellblazer  pt. 1 | jjk

Genre: demon!au, smut Rating: M  Pairing: demon!Jungkook x FemConstantine!reader Warnings: demonic possession, wounds that would correlate with a “possession”, minor character death, mentions of suicide, rough sex, hair pulling, face sitting, multiple orgasms Summary: “Few people really think about dying... paranoids worry about it without really understanding it. Victims of fatal accidents and murder don't have time to think. You only really think about it if you take the time to. And you only take the time if you know it's going to happen.” -John Constantine, Dangerous Habits Pt. 1: The Beginning of the End, Issue #41. Author’s Note: You can blame the concept photos from today. Also, a kind anon requested it. :D

The girl’s deep, otherworldly screams filled the room as you secured her hand to the headboard.

“Hold her down!” you yelled.

Three men were on each corner of the bed trying to hold the frantic young woman down as she thrashed and threatened to rip everyone’s balls off.

Just your run of the mill demonic possession.

Sweat began to roll down your brow as you fought her. You were strong and equally strong willed, but these men were either scared to hurt her or scared of her. Probably both. She gnashed her teeth in your direction, spit flying, and her black eyes were focused on yours.

“You’ll never fucking get me out of here, Hellblazer,” she growled.

“Oh yea? Then how come you’re letting me tie you to this bed?” you struggled out as you planted your foot on the edge and pulled with all your strength on the rope.

“Your blood is just like mine. Why fight us?” her growls filled the room.

The priest that was residing over this possession was tucked away in the corner, clutching his Bible as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did. The girl’s mother cried in the arms of her husband begging the demon to let her little girl go. Apparently, she had been possessed for months and when the priest was at a dead end, he contacted you.

Little did they know was that you were doomed to fail. You always tried, though, to redeem yourself for your sins; hoping that helping others would make up for what you had done.

When she was sufficiently tied down, you moved to your leather bag to pull out the relics you had brought. You always moved through the same motions, knowing what you were doing was right, but never quite getting there; a punishment in which you wish you could be freed.

The cross you held out in front of you pissed off the demon as it should since it was made from the same wood from Christ’s crucifixion, having been passed down through your family for thousands of years. Or so your dad had said.

“Sancte Michael,”

Saint Michael,

“defende nos in proelio”

Defend us in battle.

The demon writhed against its bindings as you continued the prayer.

“ut non pereamus”

That we might not perish.

“You’re going to hell with me, you bitch!”

She was pulling so hard now that the bindings were beginning to cut into her skin. Her eyes fluctuated from solid black to her natural green and back again. The veins were black and blue against her paper white skin, her hair was sparse where she had been pulling it out, and her body was covered in bruises. The demon was essentially killing her from the inside out.

“in tremendo iudicio.”

At the dreadful judgment.

Two hours later and the girl was gone. Yet another failed exorcism. As if you felt like this would go any differently. You told the uncle who was there to help it was probably because the demon had been inside of her for so long. At least it was half true.

You shielded your hand as you lit a cigarette, took a long inhale before holding it and releasing it into the air. Standing outside on the cobblestone street, you squinted up past the dim streetlights and up into the night sky. The stars sparkled above you, ever present and totally oblivious to the shit show going on down here. You suddenly wished that you were among them, burning until you exploded and became part of the universe once more. Maybe then your stardust would land on some other planet that didn’t see shit like that. But maybe there was a Hell there too.

Your boots clicked on the uneven, wet stone. Looking down at your watch you saw it was three a.m. The night was cool, it had just rained, and you breathed in deeply the fresh air. Your lungs expanded appreciatively, with no sickness, not anymore at least. You took another drag of the cigarette, noticing you were burning through it quickly. Your nerves were still on edge from the exorcism and you knew you’d be thinking about it for weeks before the nagging feeling of failure went away.  

“Hello, little demon hunter,” you heard from the shadows of an alley you were passing.

You stopped, frozen in your tracks, but it wasn’t uncommon for you to meet unwanted people…or creatures for that matter from time to time. You made a mental checklist of every weapon and talisman on your body as you swiveled on your heel. Clicking the safety off your handgun, you pulled it from under your coat and pointed it into the darkness. You heard the click of a tongue in the darkness.

“That won’t do much.” It was a male voice, smooth as silk but layered in heat. Hell had a certain dialect and you knew that lilt anywhere. You were the only human that you knew that could travel through Purgatory, Hell, and Earth.

You saw the shine of his eyes even though none of the streetlamps reached into the darkness and you knew the dreadful darkness was made even darker by him.

“Then come out if you’re so tough,” you challenged.

He was a beautiful sight, as were most demons you had encountered, but this one was different. Based on his clothing; black turtleneck underneath an equally black blazer, dark jeans, and shiny boots, he was one of the higher denizens of Hell if not a general. One you had never met at that.

“What’s your name?” you asked, not lowering the gun.

“Why would I tell you that? Just so you can banish me?”

You scoffed as you squared the gun right between his eyes from that distance.

“I told you that won’t work.”

“Yea? Maybe I have special demon killing bullets since you seem to know me so well.”

“It’s not like I can possess you.”

“But you can kill me.”

“I can ensure you that I do not want to kill you.” He held his hands up defensively.

You examined his face. His hair was pushed to the side, exposing his forehead and the smooth expanse of his skin. You noticed a few tattoos on his fingers and hands as he raised them, but you still couldn’t figure out who he was, and you usually prided yourself in knowing everyone and everything from Hell. It was the smaller demons, the ones that possessed humans, that you didn’t know. The generals and Princes of Hell didn’t lower themselves to possession unless it was someone they desperately wanted. You knew of one Pope that was possessed for his entire career.

“Are you scared, ____?” he smiled.

“I’m never scared of your kind.”

He made a face like he was hurt by your words, clutching one of his hands to his heart. You saw a crown on one of his fingers and a few other odd shapes you couldn’t make out. Who was he? Then you saw the sigil when he moved a little closer. It was a small brooch on his lapel, and you didn’t need to make out the rest when you saw the gold glint of goat horns. He was of blood in the House of Satan, but who?

“Please lower the gun?” he asked innocently. His eyes softened as he looked at you and he dropped his other hand to his side, the other still firmly planted over his heart.

For some reason your resolve deflated. Slowly, you lowered your gun and by the time it was by your side, the man wore a wide smile.

Such a pretty smile…

You shook your head, bringing up the hand still holding the gun to press the ball of your palm into your temple. Eyes screwed shut, you willed yourself to think logically.

“What are you doing to me?” Your breath came out a little more erratic than you would have liked.

He looked even more innocent, eyes almost on the verge of watering as he stepped just a little closer to you. The tension between your brows relaxed and your hand dropped once more. He looked a little more satisfied this time as he approached. The clatter of your gun hitting the stones didn’t make it to your ears. Around you, the world seemed muffled. It felt as if cotton had been stuffed into them. A passing car, a person’s laugh, and crickets sounded around you, but you were deaf to everything but him. You still heard his footfalls the closer he walked. His grin was turning up at the corners and for a second he seemed wicked and a trickle of fear ran down your spine.

“Poor little demon hunter.” His voice dropped an octave as he stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That exorcism didn’t work. They never do.”

This time his smile was wicked, and you felt exposed. He looked at you as if you were something to eat while still exploring your face for any change in your expression. You tried to not let your emotions show. You knew exactly where this was going.

Now, he was right in front of you. Dangerously close as your chest heaved in mild panic. You felt rooted to the ground. The world was no longer muffled, it was hauntingly silent. He leaned in closer and he smelled like a freshly burned out campfire with just the slightest hint of sulphur. His cheek was a hairsbreadth away from yours when he spoke again.

“That little suicide of yours will never be redeemed. You’re too selfish for that.”

Heat flushed through your body as the panic set in. He placed his hand over your heart now, pressing into your skin as he felt your heart beat furiously in your chest.

“And I know your soul is no longer in here.”

Your mouth was dryer than a desert by this point.

“But your blood is just like mine. It sings to me and I’ve never felt that before.”

His hand slowly slid up your chest and to your neck where he let his hand lay loosely there. His skin burned hotly on yours, further providing evidence that he was more than likely higher than a general. The higher you got the hotter the fire burned.

“And I’m not so sure I like that quite yet.”

His voice contained a mild threat. You had encountered many a demon and even Satan himself, been through the circles of Hell many times, and heard the cries of those stuck in Purgatory; but this type of fear was different. You were in awe of him, but at the same time completely repelled. You weren’t interested in seeing him in his demon form any time soon either.  

His lips brushed your cheek as he turned his face. He wet his lips as he paused against your skin.

“But I’m more than willing to find out,” he breathed.

His grip on your neck tightened and you felt your body flush with a different kind of heat as your eyes fluttered shut. Why? you asked yourself. Why were you doing this? The rational part of your brain was starting to be overpowered by the irrational.

“You want to as well,” he whispered. “I can feel it in that soulless body of yours. You’re just as empty as me.”

You grabbed his wrist and he gasped at the coldness of your skin. Your eyes came open to meet his as he leaned away from you. They were no longer human, no, those baby brown eyes were now replaced with a solid black with a deep red burning within. A quick rush of wind surrounded you, enveloping you so tightly that you couldn’t breathe, your lungs constricted as you fought to take a breath, and right as your eyes started to burn, air filled your lungs as your back hit a soft surface.

You gasped for breath, enjoying the burn of oxygen flooding your lungs, before a pair of lips were on yours. He was over you and you felt an expensive silk blanket beneath your fingers. His tongue slipped passed your teeth and he moaned as he got his first taste. You dared to explore as yours brushed passed a suspiciously sharp tooth.

“Hmmm, careful,” he smiled as he pulled away from you.

He sat up, bringing you with him, and was slipping your jacket from your shoulders before you knew what was happening. He then reached for the hem of the sweater you wore underneath and pulled it up and off. Your mind could barely keep up as he examined you. His eyes focused on exactly what he was looking for. A scar. The sigil of Lucifer was burned into your skin over your heart. He ran his finger gingerly over it and you took his distraction as a chance to look around. You were sat on a large, four poster bed in an opulently decorated room. But it was so, so dark and not in just a way that you were standing outside at night, but the feeling was there as well. The shadows were omnipresent and seemed to be teeming with some dark fear. You could tell that there was a large fur rug before a roaring fire, but there seemed to be a dark gray film over everything. The only thing you could see in full color was him. He seemed to almost glow in the darkness, his alabaster skin absorbing any light it could.

“A deal’s a deal, huh?” he asked rhetorically.

He leaned down again, capturing your jaw in his palms and kissed you, inhaling deeply as he lowered you back down. He kissed hotly along your neck, suddenly desperate for more.

And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You grasped tightly at his jacket, feeling the metal of the brooch dig into your finger. He smoothly pulled the jacket off and broke away from your skin just enough to pull the last layer over his head. Blearily, you looked at him and noticed his chest was covered in tattoos, there were some runes you recognized, but beyond that you weren’t sure. They seemed to wrap underneath his arms and disappear behind him as well.

“Don’t look too close, angel,” he said as he dipped low, flicking the front clasp of your bra open, and attaching his lips to your nipple.

You moaned, chest arching, as he sucked on the sensitive nerve endings. His hand was on your stomach, fingers splayed across your skin as he pushed you further into the mattress.

Dread seeped through your bones when at the same time he was pouring warm honey into you. You were in the deepest depths of Hell. No normal human could survive here, but when you didn’t have a soul the effect wasn’t so bad. Regardless, you had feelings and right now they were so mixed that you didn’t know which way was up.

Somewhere in the mix of his wet mouth trailing across your chest to the other side, he had disposed of everything below your waist without having you notice.

Fucking demons, you thought to yourself.

His splayed hand was travelling downwards, and he was just on the crest of dipping his fingers under your hood when he stopped. He nuzzled his nose on your neck and breathed deeply.

“My sweet, little demon hunter. I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long.”

Your hips came off the bed, wanting him to touch you, but he kept his hand in place. He rose above you again, moving swiftly as he stepped off the bed.

“Up,” he demanded, motioning you to get off the bed.

He then took your place but this time he let his head hang from the bed.

“Ride by face, baby,” he said, hands reaching for your waist.

Whether he had planned this, or this was another one of his tricks, you were at perfect height.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you were the other way?”

“I want you to stand.” He was forceful as he grabbed your hips and pulled them, easily slotting you over him.

You gasped loudly as his tongue made contact with your clit. He pulled you harder against him as he sucked loudly on your clit before releasing it and laving his tongue over it. His mouth felt divine against you as you caught yourself on your hand. Your hips seemed to move on their own volition as you started to rock against him. He moaned loudly in approval the same time you looked between the two of you. With every other rock you exposed his glistening chin and strong jaw and you felt yourself getting more turned on. You ground harder against him mouth, rotating as he switched from stiffening his tongue to licking you sloppily. He sucked, licked, and moaned against you until you were shaking above him. You were on your tip toes, him chasing your pussy so that his mouth never left. You could see the prominent bulge in his jeans and you felt your mouth salivate at the prospect. Closing your eyes, toes curling as much as they could, and fingers digging into the silk, you came on his face. His moans almost matched yours as you continued to ride out your orgasm and he was licking up all your had to offer.

When your body began to shake with aftershocks and you flinched every time his tongue hit your clit, he pushed you off him. You landed on your back against the silk. He swung his legs around, stepping off the bed again and quickly disposed of his jeans. Weakly, you sat up and you physically felt your eyes bulge.

There was that wicked grin again.

“All fours,” he said, rotating his finger, demanding you turn around.

You flipped over but not fast enough for his liking as he yanked you to the edge of the bed by your ankle.

“You need to move like you want it,” he seethed between his teeth.

Your knees were almost at the edge as you got on your hands, shins and feet hanging off the edge. He ran his left hand slowly, soothingly down the middle of your back, hand creeping in your hair and you were about to lean into the touch when he grabbed your hair by the roots harshly and pulled back. At the same time, you felt the slam of his cock inside of you, and to the hilt. There was more pain right now that there was pleasure as he pulled you back against him, still holding you by your hair.

“Shhhh,” he whispered as he brought his fingers to your sensitive clit. “It’ll feel good soon.”

He cooed as you melted a little, pleasure coming back into your system as he rubbed small circles on the swollen bundle of nerves. He pulled out until he was barely in, bit down on your neck, and slammed back. Then, he started to move slowly, circling his hips every now and again to hit you a little differently while still rubbing slow circles on your clit. The skin of your shoulder burned as he bit and sucked, his sharp teeth surely leaving scars. His grip in your hair tightened as his pace quickened.

He gasped loudly as he detached his lips from your skin, eyes closed, cheek against yours as he gripped you tightly, thrusting into you faster and with more purpose.

There were so many sensations inside of you, pain, pleasure, fear, euphoria. The mix was intoxicating, and you found yourself losing yourself to him again. You were pushed over the edge and you felt a growing wetness as he pushed harder against your clit, rubbing and thrusting faster.

“Fuck, hng, ______,” he muttered as you tightened around him.

He was sweating and the slap of his hips against your ass was wet and loud, his chest seemed to stick to your back, but god was it hot.

You were slipping further and further. You wanted to beg him not to touch you, but he wouldn’t even hear you now. His breathing was heavy, uneven, and loud in your ear. His fingers dug into your scalp, skin burning as he pulled harder at your hair. His fingers, relentless, were throwing you into another orgasm that had tears streaming down your face. You no longer had the strength to hold yourself up, cry, or speak. His breath caught in his throat suddenly as he stilled, toned body rigid behind you as he came. All at once, his breath came out in a loud exhale as he moaned, body shuddering, cock still inside of you and filling you up to the brim. His cum mixed with yours, leaking out and down around his cock as he thrust a few more times. The sticky liquid dripped down your thigh and to the bed below you. After a few moments, he stopped. His chest still heaved behind you, but his hand in your hair loosened while his other wrapped around your waist. He kissed tenderly the bruises and small punctures on your shoulder, and you shivered at the contact.

“My little, demon hunter,” he breathed. “The taste of you is so sweet.”

You awoke to your alarm. Confusion settled in and you weren’t sure where you were. Pulling the covers from your face you squinted as the sun assaulted your eyes. You moaned as you rolled over, suddenly regretting the action as every muscle in your body protested. Every part of you ached in a way you had never felt before. Your neck burned and there was a slight headache between your eyes.

Was that some illusion leftover from the exorcism?

Fear, disgust, and a little of something else you didn’t want to admit washed over you as you turned to silence your alarm. Your heart stopped in your chest as your hand grazed across something cold. He had left his signature. Once again, turning the brooch in your hand, you didn’t need to examine it further to know there would be the golden goat horns.

He had been real. A demon of Hell had taken you as his own.

[disasterfandoms]

After Action Argument, Part One|| A Trent Sawyer and Full-Metal Oneshot

Co-wrote with @bravo-four-seal-team

A/N: So this was formed while headcanoning about Full-Metal and Trent’s friendship and their crazy asses with @bravo-four-seal-team​ and it eventually became writing a fic on how we thought this would go. This is long, so I divided it up into 2 parts.

Summary: Missing scenes from 2x21 and 2x22 encasing Metal’s concern for his brother’s mental health and sanity. Aka Metal and Trent argue for eternity with some fluff at the end.

This is the first piece of work in a series I’m working on on AO3 called “The Medic and The Rambunctious Brothers.” There are two OC’s in this, but one is only explicitly in the story.

TW: Talks of death, talks of a land mine, war, deployment, blood, being in an explosion, talks of suicidal thoughts, talks of therapy, arguments

Taglist: @himbohondo, @a-kate3, @rebelwrites, @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting, @supervalcsi, @jayhalsteadfan-2417, @mrsmarvelous1995​, @chibsytelford​

Of course, of all missions, this was the mission he would step on a landmine. The mission where they were busting ass to save Ray, to get the guy who was responsible for the bombings that took out Clay. 

He stood still as soon as he felt something underneath his foot. Dammit. Jason walked a couple more steps ahead of him before realizing he was frozen. “What?” he asked, staring at Trent.

“Felt something under my right foot,” Trent paused, taking a deep breath, “I’m pretty sure it’s a landmine,” he finished, looking at Jason as his eyes grew wide. He imagined that everyone else was also feeling the dread flowing freely through their veins when he said it, but Brock and Metal was behind him. 

Of course Metal was on this mission with him. Amelia was going to kill him if he killed her brother because he stepped on a landmine. Of course, Amelia might kill him for stepping on a landmine anyways if she ever hears about it. He mentally makes a note to talk to Metal about not telling this story to her later.

“That’s no bueno, boys,” Sonny said, crouching down to see the mine below him and snapping Trent back to reality, “Landmines are the sharks of the dirt.”

Full Metal has carefully made his way to stand in front of Trent, boring his eyes into Trent’s, looking for any sign of where Trent’s head is at. He didn’t like the look he saw, though, it generally means Trent’s made a decision he was going to regret.

“Don’t have time for this, I’ll figure it out.You guys keep going.” Trent said, and Metal immediately glared at him. Like hell he was leaving his brother behind. 

Luckily, Jason read his mind. “Not gonna happen Trent,” he immediately shot down Trent’s idiocy, but god his friend was stubborn.

“Go, I’ll make it safe myself.” Trent tries again, adamant that they all needed to get out of there, to go get Ray and finish the mission. He wasn’t going to leave Ray stranded because he was the idiot who’s most likely going to get blown-up in India.

“Like hell you will, Trent. I’ve seen you open a beer bottle before. Now, letting you do surgery on a bomb, probably gonna turn us into wolf food,” Sonny stated, while both him and Jason squat down to the ground to figure out a plan.

“Don’t make me laugh Sonny, I’m literally on a mine,” Trent said quickly, with an edge in his voice. Metal glared at him, still not believing his friend would be so stupid to actually think they’d leave him behind, and angry at Sonny for making jokes about it.

“T we’re not going anywhere, don’t even think about trying it again,” Metal said with the most menancing voice he could muster, but worry seeped through with every word. Jason was working with Brock to figure out a way to save Trent, so Metal focused on Trent and whatever the hell is going on in his head.

“Metal, if I die in this fiel-”

“No. we’re not doing that,” Metal interrupted him, stopping him in his tracks,”You’re going to be fine, T. We’re gonna get you off the mine safely, go get Ray, and then go home and you can tell Mellie anything you want,” 

“You all should be going and getting Ray anyways, Metal. You have time to get him and still get the HVT.” Trent insisted, not understanding why they don’t see that Ray is going to be easier to save than him at this point. He’s made his peace, though Amelia would be pissed, with dying in this field. Metal shook his head and started to speak, but was interrupted:

“Guys we got an incoming!” Sonny yelled from his spot as security. Brock and Jason continued to work on saving Trent, while Metal got down and focused on the enemy at-hand.

“Boss I’m sticking out like a hooker in Church here,” Trent quickly stated, starting to panic about being the reason they’re gonna be spotted. Jason quietly counted down, then both him and Trent laid on the ground, keeping themselves hidden and not being blown up at the same time. 

Once the enemy had driven away, They all stood up carefully, Trent nodding a thank you to Jason and Brock. They then continued their mission to get their brother and bring him home.

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They eventually found Ray, and were rescued by Indian forces. Tension between Trent and Full-Metal was thick, and the guys had decided to go to a place to drink some beer and relax before going to bed. Full-Metal had pulled Trent to the side, to their barracks in the compound, a room one door over from where Bravo was.

Metal was pissed, but he was also worried for his friend. Once he got Trent alone, he began to tear into him about the decision he made out there. Trent stood across from him, with his arms wrapped across his own body.

 "What the fuck was that Trent?! Telling us to go? You'll make it safe?! Tell me exactly how the fuck you would make it safe" Metal loudly lashed out, his feelings his bottled up spilling over.

Trent sighed, “Metal will you shut up, it all worked out fine"

"Trent! It ain't fine! We coulda been burying you! I don't want to give a damn death notice to your family, to my sister! Because my death would be next!"

“You’re exaggerating."

Metal threw his hands up in the air, his volume growing increasingly louder with every reply, “Trent, take this seriously! Can you just stop for one minute to think about how your death would affect your damn team? Ray probably wouldn’t forgive himself because you were there for him, Jase would blame himself because he lead you into that minefield, and who the fuck are they gonna trust with their bullshit? The new medic?”

Trent chuckled a little bit, now sitting on his bunk and shook his head, “Metal I am alive with only scrapes, bruises and sore muscles. And so are the guys! We’re okay, Metal.” He attempted to reassure the Master Chief, but it only seemed to make him angrier.

"We are okay because of a slim chance of luck! Trent, luck runs out! It's scrapes, bruises and sore muscles now, but what about next time? I never want to hear that self sacrificing Bullshit again! Ok?" He tried, desperately to get his friend and one of the most talented medics he knew to understand where he was coming from.

"You’re taking this out of proportion, Metal.”

“I’m taking this out of proportion?!”

“Yes!”

“For the love of god Trent!”

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Brock, Jason, and Sonny were sitting in the common room, listening to the argument in the next room, each of them incredibly confused as to why Full-Metal is yelling at their medic, especially given the circumstances.

“You know, I didn’t even realize just how close Full-Metal and Trent were,” Jason commented, trying to converse with their team as if they were spectators of a football game.

“Who is that yelling, and what happened to Full Metal?” Sonny jokes, and they all chuckled.

“Metal called him T at the minefield. Trent doesn’t let anyone call him by anything other than Trent,” Brock piped up, and they all looked at each other, trying to figure out what that meant.

“Well, I mean, Full-Metal did give us the keys to Trent’s house so we’re able to check in on him and go there if we needed, that should have been our first clue.” Sonny commented, trying to make what they were hearing make sense.

“But who’s Mellie, and why would Trent want to tell her anything?” Jason asked, still confused as to what the hell was going on.

“Maybe his daughter? I thought he’d tell us he had a kid before Full-Metal, though.” Brock supplied, suddenly wanting popcorn as if they were watching a soap opera unfold.

“I wish we could hear Trent’s arguments back to him, though. It’s like trying to piece a puzzle together without all the pieces,” Sonny tried to make the expression work. The two other men just laughed at him, and shook their heads.

At this rate, they’ll be surprised at just about anything they learn about Trent.

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“I get this is war Trent, but there’s a difference between casualty of war and being a damn martyr. You and I have both seen it. Hell, Adam acted like a damn martyr when he tackled a guy with an S-Vest!” Metal’s pacing at this point, getting frustrated at how stubborn his best friend was.

“Adam was doing what he thought he needed to to save us, Metal. And I was doing the same, if we had all been blown up no one would have gotten to Ray.” Trent pointed out, trying to stay calm. He knows his friend is just worried about him, he’s used to his rough ways of being a good friend by now.

"Adam did the one thing he told everyone not to do! Trent, we had enough people; Jason and Sonny could have continued while Brock and I got you out that situation. That's the only other option, all stay or split off. Get it through that thick skull of yours!”

"You’re taking this too far Metal," Trent warned, getting frustrated that his friend brought up Adam.

"I have seen enough friends die, T. I don’t need to lose another.” Metal said, desperately hoping his friend understood that he was scared for him.

“Scott, you didn’t lose me! I’m fine! In that moment it was my problem to fix, the team needed to focus on Ray because he was in a lot more trouble than I was.” He felt his voice getting louder, but at this point he didn’t care that he was yelling at his friend, who just so happen to be a Master Chief, and could technically reprimand him.

“Bullshit, Trent. We go home as one or we don’t go home at all. You know that, asking any one of us to leave you behind is self-sacrificial nonsense.”

"One life is better than two, you and I both know that"

"That's bullshit! When you have the option to save someone you do that! There's no other options!" Metal was just angry now, angry at Trent for acting like this, angry at Jason for whatever he’s teaching his team, and angry at himself for not realizing Trent really thought anyone would be okay with sacrificing himself.

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“Are they ever gonna be done fighting?” Jason asks, starting to get exhausted and incredibly sore from the op. He was cuddled up on the couch now, trying to drown out their teammates yelling at each other in the next room. He was interested earlier, but he didn’t know how long those two will argue.

“I’m gonna go see if they can shut up so we can get some shut-eye” Sonny announces, slowly trying to stand-up, making painful knows as his body protested.

“Good luck buddy, Metal’s scary when he’s angry,” Brock drowsily spoke, falling asleep with Cerberus on top of him.

Sonny goes into the next room and popped his head through the door opening, “You two done with this pissing contest you got goin’ on here? Some of us need our beauty sleep before Mandy inevitably finds a target package for us to go after the 24 hours before we leave the island from hell,”

Full-Metal turns to him and gives him the look that Sonny imagines is what Metal’s victims see when they have nightmares in the eighth circle of hell. Sonny quickly left, and briskly walked out of the line of fire.

“Get ready boys, we’re gonna sleep in here tonight,” he told them, and they groaned.

This is not how they imagined tonight going.

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“Metal, if we had all been blown up by the mine then all 6 of Bravo, and yes I’m counting you as bravo so deal with it, would have died in that field. Sending you all away at least gave us a fighting chance. And Ray has a family back home that can’t afford to lose him.” Trent reasoned for the millionth time. Neither of them were getting anywhere, and both of them just wanted to resolve this and go to sleep. Trent was lying in his bed at this point, while Metal was still pacing.

“Newsflash, Trent, you have a family and a girlfriend who would be crushed by you dying too.”

"My family would be fine! Ray has a wife and two kids at home!"

"Trent will you listen to yourself! Go out there and ask them all if they would leave you to die! I guarantee you that they will say the same as I have. They’re your brothers, they don’t want to be here without you.”

“Metal, it was the only decision that made sense! You mean to tell me that Blackburn wouldn’t have told us to ‘work the problem’?”

“That’s a suicide mission, you idiot, not working the problem!”

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Ray and Blackburn walk by the common room, hearing the arguing still occurring through the walls. He then sees three of his operators all asleep in chairs, and decide to order, Ray to wake them, while he dealt with those two idiots inside to call it quits for the night.

He entered, and made his arrival clear by a raising his voice and saying, “Hey! Both of you, quit arguing. It’s too late for this, you need sleep before Mandy finds the HVT so you’re prepared.”

They both nodded, and everyone piled in to sleep in their beds, and Cerberus in his cage.

They sleep, hoping this is all over, but oh how wrong they were.

[insufferablelust]

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE (v)

Hi lovely people! it’s me again with the fifth installment of TAAHM, hopefully y’all enjoy this, as always thank you for your support, and excuse the grammatical errors. As i said before, this story is dark themed, so it can get triggering to some people, please read the warning, and read at your own risk.

WARNINGS : BEWARE DARK FIC. SMUT, Angst to the max, Mental Illness (PTSD, with severe anxiety and depression), Some Fluff, hints/mention of Suicide (doesn’t happen), Psychological abuse (in flashbacks), over sensitivity (both sexual and non sexual), hints of Masochism, Anxiety attack, Soft raw tender moments, aaand thats it.

��——————

A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. —Pearl S. Buck.

———🍃———

Little did they know, that night is going to be the beginning of a roller coaster ride.

———//———

It was already late when she opened her eyes the next day, her soft sigh occupied the quiet room as she scanned for the one person she craved the most, biting her lips at the cold left side of the bed sheet. However, he’s kind enough to leave the only thing she could reminisce about last night in a form of a long letter note he left on her night table, written with purple ink,

“Good Morning Y/N,

I hope you’re feeling well, although knowing how anxious you can get, i know your mind would wander off and we don’t want that. If you can remember what i said, then good but if you can’t, i said that i left because it’s more convenient for the both of us, not because i don’t want to be with you. Believe me, watching you sleep right now really put an image inside my memory that i’ll never forget, you’re so beautiful.

I hope you don’t mind, but i put on Debussy on your vinyl right now. I want you to know that we’ll still talk about it, preferably today, maybe we can go have dinner unless we have a case. There are things i never got the chance to say, and i think its time i finally tell you, later.

As for your past, we’ll also talk about that too. But i want you to not worry— yes i’m disappointed still, but i know why you did what you did. We’ll figure out a way.

Lastly, please take care.

Spencer R.”

By the time she had finished reading, her internal being is overflowing with emotions, dangerous ones that she won’t be able to control and she knows this. Her eyes teared up at the sight of ‘Classical Lover Etiquettes’ cued up on her record player. Her legs were incredibly sore, as much as her thighs and arms. There was just so much that’s happening, so much to feel, and she needed to escape.

Her feet dragged her to the balcony, inhaling the scent of life, breathe in heavily as she hoped— cross her fingers hoping to die that the amount of oxygen would be able to drown her from all the confusion, even more so the horrors that started to flows back in. Spencer opened a large deep wound that she had buried a long time ago, and then he showed her the way to paradise. He confuses her as much as she probably confuses him.

She wanted to apologize for being complicated, wanted to get on her knees again and show him how much she needs a savior right now; someone to love, and cherish to get her mind off of the horrible things in the past. She wants him to know that he can help her, by guiding her like he did the night before, by owning her like he said the night before, by loving her like he promised. She needs to be devoted to him, she would do anything for him.

She knows how damaged she is on the inside, she put up a persona every day so people could believe that she’s alive. But the only time she ever felt alive was with Spencer. The only time she ever wished she’s not complicated is when she’s with Spencer, His name consumed her like the opiates she used to take. He owned her soul already and she’s not letting that go. Even if the world stands in her way. She deserves this, this pure thing for once.

So she cried, hard. Hard enough for her neighbors to hear, to check up on her, but she wasn’t listening, she stayed crouched down in her balcony, her vision was blurry and she can’t think of anything— only Spencer.

“Spencer..” was the only thing she remembered saying before she witnessed darkness and drowsiness penetrate her eyes as well as her other senses— sending her to sleep.

———————————

Y/N didn’t even flinched when her father’s screams once again filled her ears, telling her how she doesn’t belong, she isn’t supposed to be here, isn’t supposed to exists. She could smell the strong scent of alcohol from his mouth, clouding her senses, but she refused to give in and cry, in fact she doesn’t feel a thing. Moreover, she’s just bored, her father never got violent with her, never laid a hand on her, neither does her step mother— well not when he’s around anyways.

By the age of 9, Y/N already knew what kind of man her father was, the kind that doesn’t want to admit reality, he’s a violent genius who works in the dark, with barriers covering all sides of his life. He never hurt Y/N physically, like he always claimed. But 12 years of psychological torture will fuck you up, she thought. She lived in isolation, and darkness where the only things she knew.. were alcohol, math, abuse, impending death, and screams.

She doesn’t have anyone related that’s nice to her, enough to shield her from all the abuse. The only person that could bring her peace is Mr. Bones, one of her father’s men. He always looked out for her, he gave her hope ever since she was old enough to know that being told you were never meant to be alive was not okay.

“I apologize, papa. It won’t happen again, I swear it.”

Her eyes stayed on the ground as she feels the warmth of his palm so close to her cheek, she yelled in her mind— her mind telling her to scream at the old bastard to “Hit me!”

“Hit me!”

“Make it hurt!”

“HIT ME!”

——

Y/N felt a jolt, her eyes searching for signs of where she might be but she can’t seem to open her eyes, the smell— is clean like iodine, the next thing she felt was the rough yet strangely comfortable sheets that grazes against her skin, And then she heard the talk, someone’s talking.. She recognized the voice well, so well like its imprinted deep in her soul, She tried to open her eyes.. yet she keeps on missing.

“S-she— i found her pale.. she was so pale and cold.. “ Spencer! her mind screamed, that’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” She tried to yell, but still nothing,

“Spencer please!” Nothing.

“What did her neighbor said?” Hotch!

“Hotch please i’m awake!”

“She was screaming, and they found her clutching her shirt tightly, she was crying and she.. she said my name over and over again, before blacking out.. thats why they called me first after calling 911” Is that true? she has been taking her meds, hasn’t she?

“Did anyone said that she was about to jump or anything like that?”

“No! No! Spencer i’m not suicidal!”

“N-no i don’t know.. Hotch i was with her last night, i should’ve—“

“Please don’t cry! please i’m sorry i love you i won’t do it again!”

“Hey no, she looked like she was having a panic attack. Has she ever mentioned anything about being depressed? or experiencing anxiety attacks maybe?”

“no... no... don’t tell him Spencer, you promised.”

“Stop the silence, Spencer you promised you won’t tell anyone.”

“N-no.. not that i know off.. she wanted company so i stayed with her, we watched movie.”

“Spencer...” She tried again, believing that it won’t work, he won’t hear her, maybe she’s not even here anymore— just floating away from her body. But when she saw his head turned towards her, she sighed contently, letting go of all the burden for a second just to hear him mutter her name in silence and peace.

“Y/N... you’re awake wait let me—“ before he could exit the door, Hotch pulled him back a little, telling him that “It’s okay, let me get the doctor.” Leaving Spencer and her alone.

Her heart rate accelerated as he sat down on the chair next to her, eyes filled with worry and fear— Y/N couldn’t take it, couldn’t bare to see how broken he looks, because she was selfish and complicated, because she was damaged.

“I-i wasn’t... trying to.. jump” Her voice came out laced with fragility, all raw and quiet. She’s trying to tell Spencer that she’s alright, as long as he’s here she’ll be alright. “Don’t.. please don’t blame yourself, it was an anxiety attack, a bad one.”

“Have you been taking your meds?” There it is, the question she has been hoping she wouldn’t have to answer. She looked down at his trembling hands, reaching to grab it but unable to do so because she realized now that she was restrained to the bed.

“Why am i being restrained?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No Spencer i haven’t! now why am i restrained? i’m not a danger to anyone.” Y/N half yelled with a cracked voice, closing her eyes tightly at the tears that’s threatening to spill out of her eyes.

“Miss Bones, i see that you’re awake now.” Her eyes never leaving the sight of her cuffed wrist, ‘did they honestly thought you were planning on killing yourself?’

“I’m not suicidal, i’m an FBI agent for god’s sake.” The tone of her newfound voice surprised everyone including Spencer.

“Then why were you unconscious on the balcony of your apartment?”

“Because i haven’t been taking my pills! look, i haven’t for years now and i was fine. It was just rush of emotions, and i got overwhelmed okay? doesn’t mean i was going to jump. Believe me thats the last thing i would’ve wanted.” The last bit was a whisper, indicating the raw pain behind it. It was the truth, moments before you passed out you were thinking of Spencer, of how he’s your savior.

“Okay, Agent. We believe you, now why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll have you prescribed for something stronger, meanwhile i’m going to take the cuffs off” The doctor replied gently, except you know he’s not a doctor well he is but he’s a psychiatrist. Great, now everyone think she’s crazy.

——————

After the incident, you rarely talked to anyone on your team not because they don’t want to but because you won’t let them. You’ve caused enough pain, so the last thing you want to see is the pity on their eyes and face, it was nice seeing how they care though— sometimes in the mornings you can hear Garcia and JJ dropping new baskets full of goodies and treats for you to try. Sliding a note underneath your door before leaving.

Hotch insisted you to take a month break, which you would’ve tried to argued but you knew you didn’t stand a single chance. You could’ve lose your job, he could’ve fired you for lying about your psychological problems and endangering yourself but he didn’t, though he wanted you to take the break, and do another psych eval, so you agreed.

The bad thing about not going to work, except the obvious fact that you miss your work family and you missed out on catching men women alike your father and his killer— is not seeing Spencer often enough. It made you anxious just thinking how he’s doing constantly, Prentiss has said in a text that ‘he seems okay, just a little off’ in which you ended the conversation quickly, not wanting to let invasive questions spring up to life.

You’ve tried to contact him multiple times, yet he never answered the calls, there was one time where he had responded your text; it was the one after you told him that you haven’t eaten and taken your meds because thats what you do now, pretending like he actually listens you, that day you heard a knock, before finding out that there was a box of pizza; the tuna, with creamy mushroom kind, your favorite. Spencer is the only one who knew about it, so it was him. You cried that night knowing that he was close... yet you didn’t see him.

After that, nothing. Nothing at all, until it was your 17th day isolated in your apartment trying to get better. A therapist from FBI was supposed to come today, checking up on you, Hotch’s order. So when you heard a knock, you opened the door without looking.

“Y/N...”

“Hi you must be the— Spencer?” You eyes went wide as you recognized the person standing at your door, you swear your knees buckled finally seeing him again after so long. His hair seemed longer, his eyes has bags under them, he doesn’t look fine.

“Spencer, you look—“

“Can i come in?” His voice startled you, it was deep, deeper than you remembered it last.

“Yes, yes please come in..” You watched him enter your house, eyes scanning through every bit of everything, probably profiling your condition. So you let out a chuckle as you close the door, “I’m fine Spencer, unless you didn’t notice, i’m doing therapy 3 times a week plus routine visits from every therapist in town it seemed like. So i’m good” the tone of your voice reflects sarcasm and you know it, but how can you help it when he wont even look at you.

“Thats good..” He mumbled, sitting down on the couch where you two talked the last time about your past, you remembered that night’s event so clearly you could’ve sworn you have an eidetic memory. “You haven’t been sleeping have you?”

“no.” you sat down next to him, deciding that you shouldn’t touch him even if you wanted to.

“Why?”

“Because i worry about you.”

“Spencer, i told you i’m—“

“No! no you can’t say that you’re fine, again. do you know what you did me? after the night we had, you basically suffered an anxiety so bad you collapsed on your balcony, while whispering my name. You don’t get to say that you’re fine, i deserve more Y/N.”

You didn’t flinched even once when you heard his voice raised, if anything you just close your eyes and not let the volume of his voice get inside your head, “Everyone who yells is the same like your father, wake the fuck up” is what your mind been telling you but you refused to listen to it, Spencer is good, he’s a good man. So you controlled your breathing for a second before opening your eyes to see Spencer’s face begging for answers.

“You’re right, you deserve answers and you’ll get your answers but can you please listen to me and don’t interrupt? Spencer, i need the space if you want me to tell you, the space to make you understand.” Your palm move on top of his to see his reaction, you expected him to swat your hands away or at least flinched but strangely he let out a pleasant sigh, like he was relieved, like every weight has been lifted off of him.

“Okay, i’m sorry for—“

You cut him off before he could say what he’s sorry for, you don’t need it— his reactions are normal, too normal that it makes you fall in love with him over and over again. “Shh, don’t. You don’t have to explain, you don’t have to respond, just.. wait here, i’ll tell you everything okay..?”

With a nod you get from him, you stand up to make two chamomile teas, bringing it to where Spencer is sitting on the couch, then after you put on Gymnopédie on your record player, you sit down next to him. To your surprise, he leaned and laid his head on top of your thighs, curling up on the couch— which sent a smile to your face, you haven’t smiled for so long and of course Spencer Reid is the one who put your first smile since.. you don’t even remember when.

————

“It’s one of my favorite, I love the serenity of it.” You whispered, as your fingers ran through his soft hair. Relaxing your back against the couch and enjoying the tune of one of your favorite classical of all time. Spencer smiled at that, you swore the smile could lit your insides like nothing else.

“I’m a beethoven guy, but i guess Satie is alright..” He laughs, his laugh sounded like heaven, his smile and laugh makes you dizzy. This is the Spencer that makes your heart pound ten times faster, and the one that makes you lost for words each time, the one that you’ll love... too fast Y/N, too fast.

“Of course you are, it’s not hard to see..”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Spencer looked up at you, he looked so pure like this, like he was made to justify every wrong things that has been done, like he’s an angel that protects the earth from filth. He’s pure and tender, it takes all of your willpower to not lean down and kiss him.

“Oh yes, explanation.” You laughed awkwardly, eyes refusing to meet his. “Look at me, please” You shake your head at his demand, your eyes still trailing to where the record player is going.

“Look at me, Y/N.” You did, you looked. Under any other circumstances, the authoritative tone would instantly leave you dripping wet ready to submit to him. But this time, you only whimpered and nods.

“Good girl, now tell me” He cupped your cheeks, the gentle gesture sent you to oblivion.

“I don’t know where to start..”

“I heard the beginning is a great start.” His lips tugged into a wide smile, you heart warmed at the sight before you sigh, your fingers still curling and uncurling itself on his hair.

“I opened up to you that night, it’s something strange for me, i told you something that i swore i would never tell anyone, but i told you because.. because you were right, you are right Spencer. And i guess after that we took it to a whole new different level, i want to be able to do all the things with you and cross all boundaries but it’s something new to me, so that morning when i... woke up alone, it was scary, i felt so small and sad in such a big space. I was overwhelmed, by the thought of letting another person in, i don’t wanna take it slow but then again the transition won’t be easy for me.” Spencer opened his mouth as he was about to say something, but you simply leaned in shakily and press a quick peck on his lips as a sign that you’re not done yet, to your surprise he pulled you down one more time and let the kiss linger this time before letting you pull back, whispering a small “go on.”

“I lived in isolation most of my life, the only taste of real life emotions i ever got was the moment right after my graduation. The man who saved me, he teached me social skills, and the basics of.. of having this gift of rawness emotions. But i’ve been so closed off, i realized its just not possible for me to fall in love or feel such a strong emotion towards another, the only strong emotion i’ve ever known before this was.. hatred towards my father and his killer.

I had PTSD when i was 13, consistent with severe anxiety and depression, at one point Mr.Bones insisted that i...i started talking to myself, admitted me to a psychiatrist where i got my.. antipsychotics for um the voices. But i came out well, and he promised me that if i was able to make it, he would change my identity, stripped me out of my old misery, give me a new one, my father was a very very important man where he worked, so does his men including Mr.Bones. Thats why before i was 21, there’s no record of Y/N Bones existed because.. i didn’t, i never existed.”

Y/N ended it with a smile, looking down at Spencer whose eyes brimming with tears. She shook her head, her trembling fingers wiping the traces of tears. “Hey no no, please don’t cry, please it’s hurt to see you cry..” She whimpered.

“Spencer please say something..” Her eyes pleaded with her, as he sat up, before inching closer to her and before she even processed the warmth of his body, his lips pressed themselves against hers in a gentle loving way. His thumb stroking her soft supple cheek, as his lips took its time to explore every inch of hers, imprinting how it feels so he can remember it all the time. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he guided her to his lap, pulling back a little.

They stared at each other for such a long time, before Spencer move his hand downward— tugging on her shirt. “Do you want to?” His voice rise your goosebumps to wake, all the adrenaline rushing through your core as you nod eagerly. “Please”

——————

“Tchaikovsky.”

“what?”

“This is tchaikovsky.” Spencer looked up at her, seeing how needy but beautiful she is, her skin glistening under the dim lights, her lashes are wet, her eyes glassy, and her lips bitten raw. He smiled admiring her before continuing his exploration down her labia, stroking it gently— almost like he’s teasing her.

“yes Spencer this is, Oh god!” you stopped mid-sentence as you felt the warmth of his tongue exploring from her slit up to her clit, flicking the sensitive button gently— Holy mother! doesn’t he know how sensitive she is?

“I’m pretty sure Tchaikovsky isn’t god, Princess.” the doctor giggles as his fingers tracing her tummy gently, caressing every mark every curve every indent every scar so so gently to show her how much he appreciates her, appreciate her beauty— all of it.

“Shut up!” She whined and shuddered as she feels him burying his face against her sensitive pussy, tongue swiping side to side at her slit as his nose bumps against her clit sending intense pleasure throughout her body making her jolt and convulse as she tug on his hair.

“Are you sure that’s wise, princess? i’m the one in charge of your orgasm here” Her legs quivered, his tongue push inside her and explore every inch of her inside— moaning at the taste and catching every drop.

“Sorry! so sorry Spencer, just don’t stop!” Oh how sweet is that, her voice cracked at the end, meaning he’s doing a good job. And the boy wonder does seek for praises sometimes.

“Never planning on it, love.” He mumbled against her pussy before inserting two fingers in, and moving them in a brutal pace whilst her tongue and lips sucking on her clit.

“Oh! Spencer, you’re so good at this” Her eyes shut tightly, as her fingers gripping his hair— she’s practically grinding against his face which he moaned at the sight and taste of her, oh so heavenly.

“C’mon Princess, come for me then i will give you what you’ve been waiting for” oh the way she clenched around her fingers so tightly, made him groaned and shut his eyes tight as he works her over the orgasm

“Spencer! oh! thank you!” Every inch of her skin was burning and her brain was mush. So much pleasure, that she could die happily now. Her body shivers still, when he comes up to leave tiny kisses on her face. “Good girl.” Spencer then align himself at her entrance, sliding the tip up and down her pussy.

“Ready, princess?”

“Yes.. yes please?” With a smile on his face, Spencer bent Y/N’s knees before pushing the tip of his cock inside of her slowly, indulging in the velvety warm walls that welcomed his cock. The feeling is like home. Her mouth agape, as her eyes roll at the back of her head, and her fingers intertwined with his.

He stilled inside her for awhile as he let out grunts of how “so warm and tight, pet” she is. He then leaned down to press a gentle loving kiss on her lips before thrusting his cock in and out of her slowly, keeping the pace light as they both relinquish all the frustrations out, and indulging in each other’s warmth. It’s perfect.

“so— full, Spencer..” Her desperate whimpers was the one that egged him to move faster, thrusting his hips so every-time he thrusted in, the sounds were slapping of skins and their moans. But when one particular deep thrust, her cunt involuntary clenched around his cock and she screamed “Thats it! thats it fuck!”

Spencer grinned, before letting go of her hand to grip her waist, pulling her closer to him then continue to fuck her with a torturous brutal pace, hitting the spot over and over again. “I’m not going to last if you keep- fucking clenching that tight cunt Y/N” He warned, eyes glinting with a dangerous look like how he was that night. Feral.

Strings of plea left her mouth as she arched her back, he was so deep— filling her to the brim and making her feel good.

“Please cum inside me!”

“I will baby, i will. But first you gotta cum alright? can you do that? i know you can, c’mon” His breathing labored as he move even faster, her headboard banged against the wall, and her body bounced. With one final deep thrust, they reached their peak, and shuddered at the feeling. Spencer pulls out before grabbing a wet cloth from the beside table and carefully wiped her sensitive areas, causing goosebumps that were dying down to rise again.

“Swan lake” Was the first thing she muttered as her legs still quivering, Spencer looked up at her confusedly as he set throw the cloth to the dirty hamper and laid down beside her once more, cuddling her to his side.

“What?” he asked, his fingers running through her hair.

“Tchaikovsky’s, Swan lake was playing.” They both laughed at her answer, shaking their heads. It wasn’t until Y/N’s eyes flickered to his hazy ones, that they muttered it together,

“I love you—“

“I love you—“

———————

TBC!

As always, TAGLIST is open, blurb requests are also open any genre of course, send them in along with suggestions and/or constructive criticisms! thank you. Just message me or send me an ask :) thank you for supporting. I’M SO SORRY FOR THE REUPLOAD, the TAGS DOESNT WORK TUMBLR IS MEAN TO ME AGAIN❤️

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean )

[abnormallynice]

Confession By Proxy

Read it on AO3

Collab with the wonderful @kirbychan234​ to make a prequel fic/comic for the First Date Comic I made a whiiile ago because everyone was curious why exactly Neku was so beaten up. I did the pretty pictures and they did the amazing words and stuff! ;D

Go give KirbyChan some love on tumblr and AO3 for writing the fic portion and making me squee with their writing >:3

Neku sighs as he drops his bag to the side, the door to his apartment sliding shut on its own. It’s late, he’s tired and sore and way too lazy to worry about unpacking right now. He’ll do it tomorrow. Or maybe never. Whichever one comes first.

Instead, he goes over to his closet and starts to remove his scarf and coat. Once those are deposited on the floor as well (he’ll hang them up later, he swears), Neku reaches to close the door. 

“Have fun?”

The voice makes Neku jump and fall into his still open closet. “JESUS-!” Very unmanly, and he can hear laughter behind him that makes his blood boil. 

Joshua looks as smug as ever when Neku turns around to glare at him. “Close,” he replies airily. “But not quite~” And he shrugs, like he didn’t just scare the living daylights out of him.

“For fuck’s sake-” Neku groans as he sits up. “Text. Doorbell. Knocking. PICK ONE. Seriously, that’s all you’d have to do.” 

Neku cuts himself off when he feels a familiar jolt of pain in his arm. He grabs it without thinking and feels a warm wetness, and when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are tinged with blood. “...Shit.” 

He doesn’t even see Joshua move, but suddenly he’s there, kneeling down beside him, and with a surprisingly gentle touch on his wounded arm. Neku feels his breath catch in his throat as Joshua looks over the bloodstain with calculating eyes. “What is-?”

The gentle hand is smacked away. Joshua’s pity is neither wanted nor needed. “Nothing,” Neku says while quickly getting to his feet. “It’s nothing.” 

“That doesn’t-”

Neku doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else before quickly darting off. He runs into the bathroom and locks the door. He can hear Joshua sigh exasperatedly but he hardly cares. There’s a way more pressing issue right now. He already aches all over; he does not need this. 

There’s a soft knock at the door. Oh so he does know how to knock. “What are you hiding, Neku?” Joshua asks easily. 

“I said nothing!” Neku yells back. “Just leave! Poof away, magic genie!”

He can practically feel Joshua rolling his eyes, but Neku ignores it. What he can’t ignore, however, is the sudden chill running down his spine. This sensation...it’s familiar, he’s definitely felt it before, almost like-

Noise?

And then the sensation is gone as quickly as it appeared. In its place stands Joshua, inside the bathroom, having come from nowhere and looking none too impressed. Neku freezes, not only from surprise, but also because Joshua can see the stitches in his arm now. “Don’t DO that! Can’t a guy have some damn privacy? Go away!”

Joshua has clearly had enough. Neku can barely blink before Josh was in his personal space once more, grabbing his face and looking him over. Neku squirms, but Josh holds strong, appraising the bruise on his jaw and the bandage on his right eyebrow.

“Mm.” Josh hums and eventually lets Neku go. “Face is fine. Although it looks like one of the stitches on your arm came loose.”

“Huh?” Neku looks down to his arm. Well. That explains the blood. “Oh. Shit. Uh, I should really go to a hospital-”

Joshua puts a finger over Neku’s mouth, smiling pleasantly like usual. “No need for that, dear~”

Neku feels himself blushing, and he hates it, because he knows Josh isn’t taking this seriously. And he’s got that tone again, like Joshua knows something he doesn’t. Then again, what else is new? “Shut up,” he grumps. “I don’t need you revealing another improbable mystery that is Joshua Kiryu. Leave me alone.”

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Joshua doesn’t listen and instead gently takes Neku’s arm in his hands. “Now now, let’s take a look. I’ll be but a minute, and I’ll even do it free of charge.”

“That’s a lie.”

“No lies this time~” Neku resists the urge to groan. This time, he says. Ugh. “Won’t you tell me what happened though? I didn’t expect you to come home all beaten up.” 

He really doesn’t want to. But Neku gets the feeling Josh won’t let it go until he does. So…

The room is quiet when Neku finishes, the only sound is the small rustling of Joshua rebandaging Neku’s arm. They moved into Neku’s living room while he explained what happened, Neku sitting on the couch and Joshua sitting on the nearby coffee table. It’s hard to tell what Josh is thinking; nevermind that Neku can barely see his face from where he’s sitting. It still annoys him, because more than likely, he’s smirking that smug smirk of his. 

“The fine line between bravery and suicide,” Joshura starts, and yep, that smirk is there. Neku knew it, and it annoys him even more. “You sure know how to tightrope across it, don’t you, Neku?” His tone betrays sweetness, laced with sarcasm instead. It makes Neku grit his teeth. “What would you have done?” He snaps, and then immediately regrets his question. Knowing Joshua, he’d probably take a video or something. 

Besides, no matter what Joshua, or anyone for that matter, thought, Neku doesn’t regret his decision. He doesn’t want to imagine what kind of injuries a six-year-old girl would get with an impact like that. “Ugh, nevermind. It’s just a scrape anyway, it’s not a big deal.” 

Joshua raises a brow at him. “Oh? “Just a scrape”?” He doesn’t look impressed, and Neku’s eye twitches at his tone. “One that needed twelve stitches?” Okay so maybe it’s a little more than that, but whatever. “Be grateful your little falling act only bumped it instead of tore it open even more. This’ll last much longer since, well, I bound it this time~” 

Neku rolls his eyes. “My savior. Yay.” 

The chuckle that follows makes Neku nervous. He jolts when he feels arms lean on his legs. Joshua is very close now, staring up at him from between his knees, resting on his haunches and leaning his arms on Neku’s thighs. Neku has to fight hard not to blush. “So snappy,” he says with another laugh. “Is the child still grumpy about the argument we had before he left?”

There’s that tone again. Neku’s embarrassment dies down quickly, and he sighs. “Would you stop? I don’t have the energy.” And he’s not lying, but he also really just doesn’t want to talk about this right now, not when Josh is being such an asshole about it. 

But...now that he gets a better look at Joshua, it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be an asshole...at least not right now. He actually looks curious, like he’s actually bothered by the fact that Neku could still be upset. Which is stupid, because Neku knows better than to think Josh could be bothered by anything. 

Other than, you know, attempting to kiss him and then having him disappear for five years. But that’s neither here nor there. 

“I...was,” Neku finally replies honestly. “...But I get the reasons why you couldn’t come along.”

Joshua’s smile is, for once, soft. He leans his cheek on his arm (which is still on Neku’s leg what the fuck Josh). “Is not having me under your constant supervision that upsetting? Would putting a leash on me satisfy?” 

Neku tries to ignore that mental image and huffs. Well excuse him for being paranoid about his friend disappearing again for another five years. Really, Joshua has nobody to blame but himself for that. “Oh please,” he replies. “As if I could ever control you. I’d never want to, and even if I ever tried, I know I can’t. I just wanted…”

He trails off, looks anywhere but at Joshua. “I just...wanted my friend to come with us on a trip, that’s all.” And Neku curses his heart rate for speeding up at the word “friend”. “I don’t know why I got so upset that you couldn’t go. Of course you couldn’t have gone, I know that, but…” 

Joshua cuts him off with another laugh. “Aw. I’m touched, Neku,” he says, amused.

Neku is frozen. What a time to remember what Shiki said, now, with Joshua so damn close to him. And with his heart rate betraying him even more, feeling like it’s about to explode out of his chest. Joshua is so close, Neku wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear the damn thing. 

If he does, Joshua doesn’t comment on it. He’s still far too close though. “Maybe it’s better that I didn’t go, seeing how you ended up,” he says lightly. “It seems like it was far too exciting a trip for my tastes-”

“Why do you keep touching me?” Neku interrupts him, unable to look at him, and wanting to get his rapidly beating heart to calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ. 

“Hm?” Joshua’s smirk turns playful. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll bite, dea-?”

“STOP.” 

Neku’s voice even surprises himself. But thankfully it does the trick; Joshua stops his tease and is now looking more serious than Neku has ever seen him. He sits back a bit, gives Neku a little more breathing room, but doesn’t stop looking at him. Keeps silent as if waiting for Neku to continue.

He swallows, nervous, and leans his arms on his legs where Josh just was. “Just...just stop dancing around my questions. For once, just give me a straight answer.”

Joshua keeps quiet, and Neku bites his lip, staring at the floor. “Why do you keep touching me so casually? Why only me? Why…” He sighs. “Why does my heart break every time you do?”

He grabs onto Joshua’s sleeve, still refusing to make eye contact. “Why did you come back? Why did you leave? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Am I nothing to you?” With every word, Neku feels himself start to get choked up more and more, and it shocks him. Why is this just coming out now? 

Finally, Neku finds the courage to lift his head, and meets Joshua’s gaze.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Neku freezes. ‘Wh-what? Why did I say that? I meant *like*!’ His throat refuses to work anymore, and now there’s no way he can save this. He clutches Joshua’s sleeve tighter. ‘No! I fucked up! Don’t leave me…!’

“I don’t know.” 

Neku lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Joshua’s voice betrays no emotion; it’s impossible to know what he’s thinking. “You make me feel at ease. I think I might have some yearning, but then again, I’m probably not the best judge.”

He’s so matter-of-fact that it throws Neku for a complete loop. “Huh?” 

“I’m answering your questions, Neku,” Joshua replies patiently. “As honestly as I am able.” Neku’s heart jumps in his throat when Joshua takes his hand delicately. “I came back because I wanted to understand. I left because I didn’t understand. And no, you’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m not sure what you are, but “nothing” is far from it.” 

Then Joshua takes Neku’s other hand, looking so damn gentle. Neku isn’t sure how he’s even breathing at this point. He’s pretty sure his heart is about to pop out of his chest at any second. “And finally, I might have still left. I don’t know. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to.” 

It takes a moment for Neku’s voice to work again. “Uh…” he finally manages to get out. “Wow. I’m...surprised that actually worked.”

As if the past few minutes didn’t happen, that smirk was back on Joshua’s face. “Better take advantage of my honesty while you still can~” he says, and presses Neku’s hand to his cheek teasingly. 

And shit, that’s actually really cute? Neku flushes horribly and sputters, a little miffed that Josh rendered him speechless far too many times in the short hour or so he’s been here. “Um - uh - what - what’s your social media password?”

Without missing a beat, Joshua replies, “dr0p_d3ad_g0rg30s.”

How the hell did he do that with his mouth??? “Did you let me win at Tin Pin Online?”

“Yes, but only the first time.”

“How old are you for real?”

Joshua laughs. “Old enough~” 

And just like that, honesty hour is gone. “That’s cheating!” Neku huffs. 

Even if Josh doesn’t bother with a response, that’s fine. There are other things Neku wants to say anyway. “Um so, one more question?” 

“Alright.”

Neku bites the inside of his cheek, hesitates. “Do you...wanna date?”

Joshua hums, looks to be in deep thought, though his smile softens quite a bit. “Sure,” he replies. “I’ll go steady with you, Neku.” 

Holy shit. Neku can’t believe this is actually happening. Internally, he’s screaming. On the outside, however, all he can do is clear his throat. “Dope.” 

Okay that was lame as hell. But he can’t take it back now. 

“My turn.” 

Neku snaps to sudden attention. “What?”

“I have questions too,” Joshua adds. “I believe it’s my turn, if you’re done~” 

Uh-oh. Neku doesn’t like that look in Joshua’s eye. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to believe that the worst has already passed. “Uh...okay, sure.” 

“When are you going to stop asking dumb questions and kiss me?”

Neku’s internal screaming, which had calmed down in the last few seconds, suddenly shoots right back up even louder than before. It takes an absurd amount of self-control to not shriek like a giddy school girl asking out her crush. Instead, Neku manages to take a deep breath, cough, and finally answer. “I was getting to it, smartass.” 

[arigatouiris]

i’ll remember you // kuroo tetsuroo (3/3)

Author’s Note: The last chapter! Ummm so I’m a bit worried about publishing on here... It’s a bit demotivating that I don’t hear from people anymore? I mean, I know that this is asking a lot but I’d really, really appreciate it if you guys would tell me if you liked this? I haven’t seen anything like it being written and thought it’d be cool to write it, so... Just drop in a comment or an ask and let me know your thoughts? I’d greatly appreciate it!

Word count: 4k+

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuroo x Reader [Kimi no Na Wa re-write]

Summary: Everything had been perfectly normal until you woke up as a volleyball captain from a school you didn’t go to, in a city you didn’t live in. Ever since then, Kuroo Tetsuroo has been inching closer and closer into your life, wrecking almost everything that could perhaps be considered normal.

However, you never realized how vital he was to you; because you were sure you would understand upon seeing him.The struggle however, was remembering each other. Because what good would it do if you went to saw him and he didn’t remember you?

Well, the universe turns back time, of course. Until he did.

Warnings: angst, body-swapping, bullying, fantasy, reader is depressed, mentions of suicide, character death, slow burn, bittersweet end, awkward boners, mentions of porn

ｃｈ． ０３ — ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ ｙｏｕ

Kuroo found the note you had written and kept beneath a couple of books. Having arranged everything so neatly. All the anger he had dissipated instantly, and the call with Kenma ended, the note did a great deal to bring his attention to where he needed it the most.

You.

A couple of months passed with the random swapping happening on days no one really predicted. He left angry notes behind whenever you'd done something stupid to embarrass him or scored low on a math test one day; and you'd leave silly notes suggesting that he cut his hair or you'll do it for him, on how you were slowly picking up volleyball and you might possibly have a crush on Yaku. Kuroo would respond with 'Don't touch Yaku', and looked forward to swapping bodies with you more, because somewhere down the line, not only was it to help you, but it was also helping him.

He could feel himself getting closer to his own father, which was rather strange. Their conversations didn't change, but Kuroo didn't complain about toast for breakfast, and even sometimes bothered to make his own. You, on the other hand, had wonderful conversations with your mother, and the cleared desk remained clear. You paid more attention to keeping your hair soft, drinking more water, and spending more time with Naru; sometimes, you'd play with Takeru, teaching him volleyball and seeing that he actually enjoyed the sport. Your slow communication with Kuroo stopped making you feel crippled, as a matter of fact, Kuroo became a part of your routine.

Some mornings after the swap, you'd wake up with a smile on your face; and your first thought would be Kuroo. It was strange, you'd not even met the boy but lately, he was all you could think of. The swaps were getting more and more regular, and you'd see sweet notes scribbled all over your book — 'Why aren't you dating anyone? Want tips?' You rolled your eyes, knowing full well that Kuroo himself was a bit awkward with girls.

You desperately wanted to see how he was in real life, where you were not being him. You wanted to learn how his voice felt against your eardrums, how his fingers might feel when they ruffled your hair; small interactions were all you craved for, and never before had you ever felt like this for someone you had never met.

Kuroo, on the other hand, knew full well that he was straight out in love with you. It didn't take him long to fall for someone, and while he knew his feelings for you were weird, he also didn't forget that you were dead in the present timeline.

He would wake up some mornings with a note on his face that had sweet little things written like, 'Good morning, Kuroo-kun! I took the liberty to iron your uniform today seeing how you had crumpled mine so brilliantly!' He chuckled before feeling his heart race a bit at the work you had done. He knew you were a year younger, but you were a pro-note taker, and your notes had saved him a lot of time for missing these classes.

But with each passing note, each passing swap day, Kuroo's dread slowly increased. You were going to die and he had no clue how to stop it. He wondered what was even causing the swaps with him in the first place. Did he have a significant role to play here?

Perhaps, there was something that was telling him that the swapping was more than just random. With your second note, he had invariably understood a part of you that you apparently didn't often show to others; not that there were a lot of others, to begin with. He wondered how you'd take the change of dialogue he had with your mother, and about cleaning your desk—he wondered why you hadn't done it yourself in the first place. Perhaps, it was a part of you that he deeply wanted to understand, and for that, maybe, living in your skin may help him. However, he needed to know more.

First, he needed to find what happened to your mother. What kind of accident was it that had taken her life? And what happened to Takeru? From what he heard, your aunt had moved houses after your death, which meant that he might have at least seen a kid if there was one. Takeru was nowhere near you when you had moved to Tokyo, which meant that he was somewhere else.

He didn't know why the first person he thought of asking was his grandfather. His grandfather was a renowned gossip, and he hoped to find some sort of answer through the old man. It was thankfully a weekend right then, and ignoring the hordes of messages that Bokuto was sending him about his 'amazing performance' the previous day, Kuroo felt determined to get this over with.

He found his grandmother watching something on the iPad, and his grandfather was sitting in front of the television. He knew his father was out working, so this gave him ample time to bother his grandfather with useless questions.

Apparently useless questions.

    "Yo, ji-chan," Kuroo's grandfather greeted him with a killer smile, "You heard about the girl (s/n) (y/n) from across the road? The one that...died."

His grandfather nodded before humming, "Poor girl. She moved here for school after her mother and brother passed in an accident. They're from a port town, see. They used to harvest salt."

He knew that much, and his heart hurt from thinking of Takeru also passing away. The boy was barely 8 years old.

    "Know anything else? What kind of accident was it?"

    "You seem quite interested in this. Did you know (y/n)-chan?"

Kuroo smiled bitterly, "In a way, ji-chan."

    "I'm sorry to hear that, Tetsu-chan," His grandfather's voice made him feel worse, "(y/n)-chan took her own life because there was no one else left for her. It's truly sad to see young people take their lives. Her aunt wasn't of any help. Made her dream of a good life in Tokyo and brought her here and just... paid no attention to her."

    "Didn't she go to school?"

    "She went to your school, Tetsu-chan, didn't you know that already?"

Kuroo's heart dropped. What the fuck? He felt a cold sweat rushing over his features. Suddenly, he felt as if he was walking toward something that he should actually be running away from. You were in his school? That meant... That meant it had been three whole months since you had been here and he didn't even know. By now, Kuroo had assessed what would cause everything to topple over.

He had to stop your mother's accident. Somehow, he had to reach you. He had to find out what happened to your mother and brother, and stop the accident from happening. And if that happened, you'd continue to live there. You'd continue to live and you'd grow up happy.

If you came to Tokyo, you'd die.

    "Her mother and brother were on a boat, Tetsu-chan," His grandfather's words alerted him from his stupor, "They were returning home after a ferry ride to a museum. It was the boy's birthday."

That was good. This was good enough. He knew when it would happen, and if he could just swap into your body before then, if only he'd be able to choose willingly when the swap could happen, Kuroo wouldn't have to live with the morbid anxiety bubbling in his chest. He rushed outside, ignoring his grandfather's wishes for him to go brush his teeth, and ran to Kenma's door.

    "Kenma! Kenma! Kenma—"

The door opened, revealing a rather annoyed looking Kenma.

    "I'm starting to prefer (s/n) over you."

    "Need to talk. It's important."

Both of them sat behind Kenma's house, the same place they had started to play volleyball for the first time, a long time ago.

    "Did you know she went to our school?"

Kenma blinked before turning to Kuroo with a surprised look. Kuroo merely nodded with a bitter expression on his face.

    "Her mother and brother die in a boating accident. On her brother's birthday. She moves here and... for three whole goddamn months she's here and we don't... we don't know."

    "Kuroo, you can't blame yourself for this—"

    "It's repeating all over again. She just died and I couldn't—"

    "It's stupid if you think you could have saved her," Kuroo almost winced at how cold Kenma's voice was, "But, you can save her now. So, just don't mess it up."

    "I need to go see her."

    "You know that she won't be there."

    "Maybe, there's some sort of hill like in the movie—"

    "Highly unlikely."

    "Well, this fucking seems highly unlikely too, doesn't it?!" Kuroo yelled, feeling his heart rate increase, "Me swapping bodies with a girl that's dead!?"

Kenma sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Maybe, the next time you swap, try to figure out when her brother's birthday is and ensure her mom and brother don't go out. That should do it."

    "Why was she not on the boat with them?" Kuroo asked, confusedly.

Kenma shrugged. "Maybe, she was somewhere else?"

    "Where could she have gone?"

    "Maybe, it has more to do with her relationship with her family?"

    "Hm, yeah... I mean, it is pretty strained. But, I did something. I apologized to her mother after learning that she fought the night before the swap."

Kenma's eyes widened.

    "What?"

    "She did the same for you."

Kuroo paused a bit before narrowing his eyes. She did what?

    "Your dad was telling her, I mean you, about how you blame yourself for... you know."

    "Ah, fuck!" Kuroo groaned before scratching his head with both his hands. "Why can't she not meddle—"

    "What are you doing to tell her that?"

    "Well, I'm trying to save her life—"

    "She doesn't know that."

Kuroo let out a breath. Kenma moved away from him as he stood up.

    "Go brush your teeth, Kuroo."

Several thoughts flooded into his mind. Why was it Kuroo's body that you swapped with? In the movie, Mitsuha swapped with Taki because she dreamed of being a boy in Tokyo. Did you want the same thing? Did you by any chance meet Kuroo somewhere in the past and he had failed to recognize you? Were you some girl on a train that he had met and had forgotten about? Did something happen in the past year that he can't remember, and had invariably changed your life so much that it ended everything?

Why was it him?

Throughout the next month, Kuroo desperately waited to swap bodies with you. He tried to recreate your face in his mind repeatedly, not wanting to forget about you, and this latent obsession that he had with you was starting to get Kenma worried. Without even having met you, he started to miss you, he wanted to see you, communicate with you, but how could he communicate with someone from a year ago?

He wondered what would happen if he went to you.

He knew the name of your high school, and he knew that Naru would be someone he could contact right now. Naru would be in her final year of high school, which meant that meeting Naru could give him an idea of what had happened with you. Desperately wanting answers, he knew there was only one way to get them. He had to go to you, even if you weren't there.

Rushing to his bathroom, he quickly brushed his teeth before running over to his laptop and opening his screen. He took a deep breath before clicking on Goto Islands, the largest island being Fukue. He knew that finding Naru would mean he could find where you lived, and if that happens, then perhaps he could understand what had actually happened. He had to get to Hanada Airport terminal and then take a flight to Fukue, which would take him around 3 hours. Reaching Hanada would take him an hour, so he knew he had to leave immediately. Shooting Kenma a message of what he was going to do, Kuroo decided that he had to meet Naru; the anticipation of the entire ordeal was killing him. If fate decided you deserved a second chance, he did not want to mess it up.

On reaching Hanada airport terminal 1, Kenma called him.

    "What are you doing? Kuroo, she's not—"

    "I'm going to meet her friend, Naru. Maybe, she knows what happened. If I know what happened, then maybe I can stop it."

Kenma didn't say a word, "I hope you know what you're doing, Kuroo. I seriously don't think this is anything like Kimi no Na Wa."

    "Yeah, well," Kuroo grinned, "I think I can't let go of my soulmate so easily, right?"

He could hear Kenma scoff, "You're such a sap."

    "Maybe, there's a red string connecting our pinky fingers across time."

    "Good luck, Kuroo."

Kuroo smiled before putting his phone inside his pocket, his heart racing as he headed inside the airplane that would take him to Fukue island. On reaching Fukue, he knew he had to take a taxi to the mainland, but the area was almost barren. Kuroo blinked a couple of times before turning to the left, finding a lone man standing there.

    "Uh, if I want to get a taxi, where should I go?"

    "Ya wait."

Kuroo felt a cold sweat hit him now. He couldn't wait. The more time he spent here, the closer you inched toward death, and he didn't want that to happen. Letting out a breath, Kuroo walked forward, hoping his memories would be enough to let him know where to go. Maybe, he'd spot something familiar, something that would let him guide himself to your old home.

However, luck was on his side, a taxi paused by him and he could finally get to the school because he knew that was his best bet at finding your house. Ten minutes later, Kuroo ran toward your old home, ignoring the looks he was getting from the people around him. His legs carried him faster than ever before, and he quickly came to a halt before his eyes fell on a familiar brown-haired girl, taking out the trash. The time was close to 5 p.m. and Kuroo's heart raced at the sight of the hyperactive Kotoishi girl.

He walked over to her and the height difference made him want to laugh. (y/n) was almost as tall as her, but right then, Naru was shorter than Kenma was.

Naru looked up and her eyes widened, before a faint recognition hit her pupils.

    "Yer the boy, aren't ya?"

Kuroo felt his heart constrict at how mellow Naru sounded. He nodded, because what else could he do?

    "Ya remembered," Naru said, smiling bitterly at him, "But a bit too late."

    "I can still save her."

Naru blinked, "How?"

    "Explaining will take a lot of time, Naru-chan," Kuroo said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Can you take me to her old home?"

Naru nodded and walked him there. However, she knew that he probably remembered the route, considering he had lived as her best friend on multiple occasions. Turning to the taller male, Naru hummed.

    "Yer quite handsome, aren'tcha?"

Kuroo chuckled, "Thank you. I wanted to ask you a few things, actually."

    "Not surprised. Shoot."

    "What...happened?"

They paused in front of your old home and Naru pressed her lips together. It wasn't easy for her to recollect what had happened to you or your family, but she was dreading this day. The day when the boy her best friend's body was occupied by would come and grace her with his presence. It confused her that he came a year too late, but perhaps, magical things in the world worked in a way no one could properly identify.

    "She wasn't really close with 'er mom. She forgot that it was Take-chan's birthday, and that 'er mom and 'im were gonna go check out the museum."

    "Where was she?"

Naru gave Kuroo a smile that could have broken his heart. That one smile made him understand that this was where he would come in.

    "She went to see you."

*

    "I have to go see him, Naru!"

Naru hummed before rolling her eyes, "Yer deeply in love with a boy you've never met."

    "But, I've lived as him. I think I can guide myself to his house and just... tell him! Besides, he knows me too. We've been sharin' notes."

    "But, there's no guarantee that it is him, right?"

    "Of course there is, who else is a Kuroo Tetsuroo from Nekoma, volleyball captain, bed-haired handsome dork?" You giggled at your own words.

    "Just hope ya know what yer doin'." Naru said, narrowing her eyebrows.

You nodded before letting out a breath. "I've booked my tickets to Tokyo too. I land in Hanada and I should probably take a train to Nekoma. I know my way from there."

    "Aren'tcha forgettin' somethin' 'bout tomorrow, though?" Naru asked, pressing a finger to her chin.

    "What could I possibly be forgettin'?"

The next morning, you left quietly and quickly. You hadn't told your mother that you were going to Tokyo, you knew she'd not let you, either way. It felt as if you were doing something daring for the first time; wanting to go to Tokyo as you and no one else. Half of you was excited to see the boy you liked, but the other half was just excited to do something like this for the first time. Your hair felt lighter than ever, your skin was practically glowing and your heart was racing; you were not hoping that Kuroo would return your feelings, though some part of you thought he did, the experience of it all made you feel almost overwhelmed with joy.

On reaching Hanada terminal 1, your first reaction was to take a deep breath. It was a school-day, and you knew how your mother felt about you missing school, but that wasn't what ran in your mind right then. You were going to meet someone that had invariably changed your life; that had been such a big part of how you could transform into a more confident individual—and this was everything you were waiting for, even before you knew you had waited for it.

On entering the train to the station closest to Nekoma, you felt like the crowds were suffocating you, but every pore in your body seemed to breathe oxygen right then and you felt like your lungs were full of air. The happiness that was coursing through your veins was enough to keep you pumped.

I have to change trains now, you thought before opting to get out, but a familiar mop of a bed head froze you to your spot. You were almost out of the train, the pack of people pouring in made it hard for you to keep your standing, but you had seen him— bed hair and gold eyes—entering the train you were in from your right. Instantly, you moved through the crowd to grab his wrist, wanting nothing more than to press yourself to him and to scream his name, but—

What was his name?

Your eyes widened as he turned to look at you, gold eyes penetrating into your (e/c) ones. He blinked questioningly, clearly confused by your sudden appearance.

    "Do I know you?"

You gasped, what was his name? Why couldn't you remember his name?

    "Ah, it's... It's... I'm sorry."

You were pushed out of the train and the doors closed; you kept your eyes fixed on the boy's from outside, and his eyes found yours, but there was not even a hint of recognition there. Suddenly, you had no idea what you were doing in Tokyo. All the hope had exited your body in a matter of seconds, it was merely a byproduct of having a delusion embedded into your psyche as hope; which it wasn't at all. Tears filled your eyes as you shut them, letting your tears fall straight from them.

You do not know how long you stood there before you got the call from Naru. The call that had changed your life.

*

    "I... I met her." Kuroo said, his eyes widening as realization sunk in.

It was a meager moment, a moment so easily forgotten. It felt as if he was crossfading into time right then, every inch of his being became a burden. How was he to remember you when he hadn't met you? Why was fate playing with him the way it was?

It didn't make sense.

    "She came back after I'd called her. She never really forgave herself for it."

    "When was..." Kuroo cleared his throat, "When is the..."

He couldn't bring himself to say 'anniversary of death'. Naru, however, was the smartest person he knew.

    "In two days. The 13th of November. Also," Kuroo turned to her with dead eyes, "You'd once told me that somethin' was gonna happen to her. This means that the future-you didn't remember 'er or didn't come 'ere and that's why she died in the present timeline. If she's gonna live in the past timeline, and if that has to merge into the present, then you have to do somethin' you didn't do before."

It took him a couple of seconds to understand her. Naru smiled before punching his chest.

    "Try talkin' to her now or somethin'. Happens in the movie, donnit?"

    "Where's... Where's her grave?"

Naru led Kuroo to the gravesite before walking away, knowing he had to stay there for a few moments. Kuroo's heart broke at the sight of your grave, right beside your mother and brother's, and tears instantly filled his eyes. He’d always secretly believed that a love as fierce and true as his would be rewarded in the end, and now Kuroo was being forced to accept the bitter truth. You were dead; no matter what he did, what he would do, you would try looking for him at the wrong time, and he would permanently lose you.

The sky was strangely painted orange that evening. An orange blended with hues of pink and purple, scattering above him in a colorful dance that screamed joy—as if to laugh at his misery. The skies were radiant as his heart broke, and for the life of him, Kuroo couldn't understand how the universe had so gladly failed him.

    "Fuck," He uttered before wiping the tears that fell from his eyes, "I wish I could have saved you. I wish I'd remembered you. Somehow, anyhow. I wish I could have saved you. Fuck, this is killing me."

The time was 6:14 p.m. Suggested time for twilight was ten minutes from then. Kuroo had been here before but had left two minutes early. Perhaps, it was by chance that he stayed this time. Perhaps, the universe wanted a different end. No one can really say what these things were. They just happen.

You had made a wish right before closing your eyes for the last time.

I wish the next time he sees me, he'll remember me.

Perhaps, someone in the universe who could make a difference had heard your plea. Perhaps, someone just wanted to see what would happen if two parallels were connected for the first time. As impossible as it sounded, Kuroo had made it possible by staying there longer than any of his future forms had ever done. Those two minutes made all the difference.

Just before twilight, he shut his eyes for a couple of minutes; before reopening them as you.

He let out a gasp before feeling his heartbeat accelerate. A moment ago, he was at the graveyard, mourning for you, but right now, he was in your skin.

   "Take-chan," He called out, "What day is it?"

   "It's the 13th. Two days to my birthday!"

Where the hell is she? He thought before running to where the graveyard was, ignoring your brother's pleas. 13th November. 13th November. Two days before your brother's birthday. He could spot the graveyard from a distance and his heart skipped several beats on seeing himself there. Tears filled his eyes before rushing over to hug him, knowing full well who was inside.

Swap.

Kuroo opened his eyes and spotted your form, hugging him, crying into his chest. You were sobbing, and Kuroo could feel his own eyes burn with tears. Quickly grabbing your cheek, Kuroo leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, not wanting to waste what time was given to him. He could feel you practically shake under his hold, and he knew that this was perhaps the magic of twilight that the movie had spoken about. He didn't have to look upward to see how the orange sky now seamlessly made so much more sense to him. The pinks and the purples, the hues scattering above him in that same radiant dance that welled his heart with inexplicable joy and hope.

    "Tetsu-kun!"

    "(y/n)-chan." He said so fondly, he felt his heartbreaking.

    "I was going to come to see you... In two days, I've booked—"

Kuroo shook his head vehemently, "Please, please don't. Listen to me, it's your brother's birthday on the 13th. Don't go anywhere. It's going to rain, it's going to," He was taking deep breaths now, "Stay indoors, you hear me?"

    "I love you." You said, tears leaking down your eyes.

Kuroo nodded, his hands pressing your cheeks as if his life depended on this very moment, "I love you too, (y/n)-chan, just promise me. Promise me you'll live through this and come see me."

You nodded, "I promise. I'll come to see you—"Your eyes widened, "I... I can't remember your name, please—"

    "My name is Kuroo Tetsuroo."

    "My name is (y/n)—"

Kuroo pulled your hand out and kissed firmly on the back of it. You mentally repeated his name countless times before it slipped your consciousness effortlessly. You were sobbing now, at how you knew you loved his boy but couldn't for the life of you remember who he was.

    "You..." Kuroo could feel his own memories of you vanish, "I'll remember you."

    "I love you so much!"

Kuroo leaned down to kiss you once more, his hands gripping your hair tightly. You kissed back, but a second later—

—you were gone.

*

The day when the sky turned various shades of orange, it was almost as if a scene from a dream; it was a beautiful view.

Once in a while, when Kuroo woke up, he finds himself crying. The dream he must have had he can never recall. But, there was a sensation that he had lost something, and it lingered long after he had woken up.

Working for Japan's Volleyball Association was a task—especially after Hinata was signed into the MSBY Jackals. He knew had to head over and meet the orange-haired runt the next day, but Kuroo believed he'd take his time. It was the weekend after all. Scratching his butt, he ignored Kenma's message before grabbing his coat and walking to the nearest 7/Eleven.

Kuroo's eyes linger for a second longer on the back of his palm before brushing it off and walking out of his house. He had long moved out of his father's home but managed to visit every once in a while. The first time Kuroo had beer with his father, he pictured how far he'd come, how difficult it used to be for him even to look his dad in the eye. Now, after having blamed himself for his mother's death during his teen years, Kuroo could safely say he had put it all behind him.

My name is—

Walking into the store, he noticed a bike waiting outside, not having been locked. He chuckled at the kid's carelessness before heading in to buy that morning's breakfast.

    "Nee-chan, we can get fried chicken for lunch!"

    "Take-chan, are you sure you can be eating such things being a volleyball player?"

Kuroo froze. He gulped but suddenly felt something pricking the back of his throat, making it almost impossible for him to swallow. Slowly, he turned to spot you and your brother, your backs facing him, as you picked out some packed lunches in the frozen section. Suddenly, your brother winced before running outside, muttering how he had forgotten to lock the bike.

Kuroo's heart pounded in his chest as he approached you, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You looked like he had remembered, but he couldn't place from where. Your hair was longer, a soft blue cardigan adorned your figure, and blue jeans—you were still shorter, but he couldn't remember from when.

My name is (y—

    "Uh," He took a deep breath before noticing you turned to face him, "I know this is a strange question but..."

Your eyes widened upon noticing him. A lone tear fell from your left eye the longer you stared before your mind screamed at you.

My name is K—

    "Have we met before?" You sounded almost desperate, your heart raging inside your ribcage.

And in that second, Kuroo had remembered you.

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Get a Little Worn Down in Between

For @summer-of-whump day 5 prompt: broken which gave me a reason to write hurt Tim Drake and protective Jason. Fandoms: Batman Comics/Red Robin Comics Warnings for: Suicidal thoughts, talk of emotional and physical abuse.  You can also read it on AO3 Rated Teen(PG-13)

Jason wondered if they even realized that they had broken Tim, the one that gave everything and asked for very little in return who fought and still fought to be usefully in hopes that it would mean that he would be welcomed into the family until they broke him beyond repair.

Given the smug smirk on Damian's face as the little demon stood behind Dick and Bruce as he once away got away with emotionally and verbally abusing Tim while Tim was lectured about how he was older than Damian, he couldn't let Damian get to him, Damian is just a child and Tim should know better.

Jason could see as each barb hit deep and left another scar already over his sacred heart.

"Enough!" Jason snarled as he stomped forward and pushed Tim behind him. He had done his fair share of harm to Tim, he allowed Talia to manipulate him, to twist and turn him into her weapon to get rid of Tim. He still didn't know why she hated Tim so much that she would use him and now her son to get rid of him

He saw Talia in Damian and it scared him. He couldn't deny that Dick had done wonders with the little gremlin but staying quiet while Damian went after Tim with everything he had to push him to the edge needed to stop it wasn't helping Damian it was just enabling him. If no one took Damian aside and explained to him why trying to kill Tim, why attacking him not with just his weapons but also his words were wrong and needed to stop Jason was afraid that one day they would find Tim standing on the edge of a ledge and no words would be enough to pull him back from the edge.

Tim had saved this family, it was time someone saved him.

"Just enough. Stop it. No," Jason held up his hand when both Bruce and Dick looked to speak, "You both have done enough talking now it is time for you to listen and you will listen to me even if I have to tie you to chairs, you will fucking finally listen." Jason snarled out.

"Jason?" Tim's soft voice came from behind him and Jason's heart nearly broke at how soft and hopeful it sounded.

Turning to look over his shoulder Jason flashed Tim a soft smile, "It's going to be okay baby bird." He found himself promising.

Biting his lower lip Tim looked at his Robin, his hero and he felt safe, not like he felt when he was with Kon, Bart, Cassie and Cass but safer than he has felt in the cave for years. "You don't have to do this." The last thing that Tim wanted was to cause strife between Jason and the others just when Jason was slowly starting to return to them.

"I'm doing this Tim because it should have been done long ago."

"What is this drivel? We have more important things to worry about than Drake's feelings. He is just proving how weak he is."

Jason didn't miss the way Tim flinched at Damian's words or how he curled into himself when no one spoke up for him.

"Your mother sure taught you all of her tricks on how to manipulate people. I heard that speech from Talia before when she was doing everything in her power to turn me against Tim. To make me her weapon in getting rid of him. I'm just surprised that Dickie and B are weak-minded enough to fall for that bullshit trick." Jason casually commented. "Physical, emotional and verbal abuse are three tricks of the Al Ghul's and you Damian have mastered them." Jason clapped slowly. "Your mother and grandfather must be so proud of you. You are proving you are Al Ghul through and through."

Damian froze as Dick let out a growl, "That is enough Jason." Dick snarled out.

Cocking an eyebrow Jason looked at Dick like he was a speck of dirt on his boot, "So it is wrong for me to talk to Damian like that but it is okay for him to talk to Tim even worse? And don't give me that bullshit that Tim is older and Damian is just a child because that excuse is shit and you know it. Tim is not an adult yet, he has been forced to grow up fast all of his life. He never had a childhood, the only happiness he had was chasing us all over Gotham. He is not you Dick! He didn't need space, he needed his family supporting him while he was grieving losing so many people that he loved. And what does he get a little brother that tries to kill him and doesn't even get a stern talking to? No, he gets Robin and he gets to keep up the emotional and verbal abuse because the only adults in his life are too much of a bunch of cowards to step up and set boundaries for him!" Jason could feel the rage of the pit starting to bubble up, a soft touch on his arm had him turning to look at Tim who had stepped up beside him.

Tim could see the pit beginning to take over and that was the last thing he wanted, Jason had worked so hard to learn to control it that he didn't want to set him back. "For so long I have wanted a family." Tim started and he found himself licking his lips as he met Dick's gaze, "From the moment you gave me that hug that horrible night I wished that I could be your little brother. Batman and Robin were more than my heroes they were the family I longed for." He moved his gaze to Bruce, "No matter how hard you pushed me, wanting to make me quit and go away I fought all that much harder to find a place here because you were my family. Only no matter how hard I tried it was never enough. I would never be Jason, I was just his replacement, a placeholder until someone else came along. Someone who was wanted."

The smugness returned to Damian while Dick paled as the words began to sink in and Bruce began to see where this was going.

"I will never be Dick. I will never be Jason. I will never be Cass. I will never be Damian. All of them are loved and wanted in this family. I am just Tim, the replacement, the placeholder, the tool of the Batfamily. I love you all, even you Damian. I had been so happy to learn that I was going to have a little brother that I could pass Robin off to." There was a tear trailing down Tim's cheek as his voice broke.

Jason felt his heart break for Tim as Damian's eyes widened as Tim's words finally seemed to sink in.

"I knew I wouldn't be Robin forever and that you would someday be ready for it. I know you hated me, Damian, that you saw me as someone you needed to get rid of to prove your worth here. I don't know if your hatred of me grew because I was the first and only one who drew a line in the sand and told you that we don't kill. In the end, it didn't matter because Bruce or Dick never once backed that rule up. They never thought to set limits for you because you had a tough life. But the thing is Damian you weren't the only one. And I'm not even talking about myself but Jason and Cass, both of who have made amazing progress because someone took the time to sit them down and teach them what is and isn't acceptable. I guess since I am the only one you want gone neither Bruce nor Dick think it is important enough to teach you why words can cut deep and leave scars that sometimes never heal. I guess I just am not worth it to them, after all, I am the unwanted one."

"Tim." Dick took a step forward, his hand reached out to touch Tim, only to stop when Jason shifted so he was once again standing in front of Tim blocking the younger man from view.

"Now is not the time Dick," Jason stated his voice hard.

"It's okay Jason," Tim informed him as he moved out from behind his bulky form, staring at his so-called family Tim decided it was time to announce the decision he had come to weeks ago, "I think it is best for myself if I left Gotham."  

Silence filled the cave, not even a bat could be heard.

"Son," Bruce started his eyes wide, he knew that things had been rough but he never expected this.

Tim shook his head, "No, it is too late. If I stay here it won't be long until I am jumping from a ledge."

Dick's legs gave out from him as he collapsed on the floor and out of the corner of his eye he could see Bruce falling back into the chair at the Bat Computer. Even Damian looked affected by Tim's words.

"If it wasn't for Kon and Bart finding me, breaking the no meta rule I wouldn't be standing here today. And that is why I am leaving. I can't take being someone's punching bag and then being blamed for defending myself. I am done being the victim in what is supposed to be my home. So I am moving to San Francisco permanently. Red Robin will no longer be a part of the Bat's so please don't contact me, not that you have. I haven't heard from any of you but Jason and Cass for six months."

"Timmy," Dick's voice cracked as he realized that he was losing his baby brother, again. "Please don't go." Once again he felt helpless as another brother left him behind.

"I can't Dick." Tim's eyes were full of sorrow as he met Dick's pleading gaze. "I can't stay here and wither away until there is nothing left of me. I am barely hanging on as it is. I'm sorry but it is time I put myself first for once. I will miss you, despite everything I still love all of you and still think of you as my family." With nothing left to say Tim turned on his heel and left the cave.

When Tim's footsteps could no longer be heard Jason let out a laugh, "Well Talia's plan worked she wanted to get rid of the light of Batman and she did." Not wanting to be around them any longer Jason turned on his heel and left, he wanted to make sure that no one tried to stop Tim from leaving.

Dick looked shaken as he turned to face Bruce as he begged to know, "Bruce, what do we do now?"

Bruce had no response all he could focus on was how much darker the cave looked now that Tim was gone.

[thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman]

Dark Side Of The Rising Sun Part 1

Yo what’s up!

After the success of my previous post, I’ve decided to bring a follow up where I talk about the many dysfunctions and issues facing Japan that I’ve learned in my research. Detective Conan often shows the criminal justice system of Japan in a positive light while in reality it has many issues due to the culture.

Now let me make this clear: Japan has many great things about itself that should never be ignored. However, these are real flaws that have or need to be addressed with many Japanese also recognizing them as problems.

Now I had to split this into parts as this is rather ungainly to put it all at once. If you have any questions please ask and I’ll do my best to answer them.

 Suicide

Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the world with about 15.2 deaths per 100,000 people.

This is due to many factors such as Suicide not being considered a sin as well as historical connotations of it being a honorable way to go.

It is also considered a act of revenge, apology, and protest.

It is mostly caused today by factors such as unemployment, alienation and intense social pressure.

Japanese society is overall tolerant of Suicide but this is changing in recent times.

Another factor is the need for acceptance over individuality.

People with mental illness are often discriminated against, stopping potential help.

Internet Suicide Clubs where anonymous people make/plan suicide pacts and commit group suicide are a major issue.

If you kill yourself via Shinkansen, your family will be fined heavily. It is also the cause of half of the train delays and referred to as a human incident.

Tall buildings have mandatory suicide fences to prevent people from jumping off. When they succeed, they take off their shoes before hand.

It is common for suicidal people to take insurance policies and wait a year or two to go through with it so their families would be okay.

Ikka Shinju or family suicides are when the entire family kills themselves together due to Asian views of the family. When the parents kill their children before themselves, this is called Muri-Shinju or murder suicides.

Oyaku Shinju or parent-child suicide are where a single parent kill their children along with themselves.

Drownings, overdoses, hangings, and jumping off places are the most common form of suicide.

Judiciary

Traditionally, the judge is hated more then the lawyer is in the west as the Judge is often viewed as a symbol of the Japanese nobility judging the common man.

If you are sent to trial, you are certain to be convicted regardless of innocence due to the countries 99% conviction rate. (Really makes Eri’s work more awesome and badass doesn’t it?)

The Japanese supreme court is one of the most conservative in the world, rarely ruling against issues that are blatantly unconstitutional and anti human rights. As a result, one of the more positive proposals for amendments of the Constitution is the creation of a separate Constitutional Court.

If you are sent to death row, you will never be told in advance when you are going to die.

Culturally, once arrested the person is automatically considered guilty.

Police are often reluctant to overturn convictions as they insist that only guilty are arrested and convicted.

The law when a child is considered criminally responsible is 14.

Judges are often pressured into making convictions as their careers are negatively affected by a not guilty verdict.

Prosecutors are given the choice not to pursue a case regardless of sufficient evidence.

Prisoners in Japan, while somewhat treated better then much of the world due to it’s focus on rehabilitation instead of punishment, have to follow strict military style regulations from minor things such as being forced to fold the bed, or to wash your face to more draconian measures such being beaten if you don’t march or sit the wrong way.

In turn, many have inadequate access to medical care as they don’t have many options for their healthcare.

It can take months or years before you are tried, meaning that a right to a speedy trial is completely nonexistent.

“Periods of reflection” where inmates are forced to be handcuffed, gagged and placed in solitary, are often not recorded by the warden.

Foreigners are forced to speak and write in Japanese.

Drug Use

It is considered vastly socially unacceptable to do narcotics in Japan.

Most drug addicts are even considered to be not human.

If a celebrity is caught doing drugs, his career is automatically fucked and he is blacklisted from the industry, as well as erased from current projects.

The most commonly sold drug is methamphetamine. This started after World War II due to Meth being legal for soldiers to consume in order to stay up late on petrol as well as from occupying Americans. After the was, it became a huge epidemic for 12 years.

Marijuana use has risen among youth. Despite it having little danger as well as medicinal uses, it is widely considered evil, with the law having no tolerance.

Overall, Japan has little drug use compared to the rest of the world due to the cultural taboo and strict laws. However, there are signs that it is being vastly under counted,

Most illicit drugs are imported from Taiwan and South Korea due to it being near impossible to grow it natively but it is becoming increasingly hard to do so.

Drugs overdoses are criminally under diagnosed.

Epidemics often occur due to low periods of economic growth and recessions. (Examples include the postwar period, the 70′s, and the Lost Decade after the Bubble Economy burst in 1989)

It is common for your family or doctor to call the police once you admit there is a problem. Then you are forced to take a urine sample and if it tests positive you are immediately arrested.

A lot of doctors open pharmacies to add to their income. As a result, many oversubscribe prescription drugs.

Hypocritically, Alcoholism is completely tolerated and not treated as a addiction due to alcohol being considering purifying in Shinto, a cure, and Japan having a intense drinking culture.

Child Abuse

For the most part, physical child abuse is considered a private issue and often ignored. While things are slowly getting better, Japan still has a long way to go. (Imagine if Kogoro did what he did to Conan in the west. Child services would be on him like a fly swatter.)

Child services often return the children to their parents even if they say their abusing them as the counseling centers need the parents to admit to their abuse.

It is a complete myth that Japan’s age of consent is 13. That is only the lowest one could set it. Most prefectures are set at 16 or higher. In turn, child molestation of those under 12 is heavily punished. However while vaginal rape of children is illegal, basically just about everything else as long as it’s statutory is basically alright.

Enjo Kosai or compensated dating is the practice of Teenage Girls to go on dates with older men in exchange for money and gifts. While not necessarily always leading to prostitution is treated as such and the girls are often blamed if they are hurt in the process.

Child sex trafficking of migrants is a serious issue and they are often treated as criminals and sent home without counseling.

Adoption of children is rare and frowned upon so many of them have to gro up in centers.

Children of unmarried couples are discriminated against due to the violation of the traditional Ie system and do not have the same protections or privileges of married couples because of its Koseki system.

Men are not obligated to pay child support and it’s near impossible to get them to legally as they can simply hide their finances by not telling them. Plus only one person can be named on the custody sheet.

Child Pornography was effectively decriminalized until 2014. No seriously.

Sexual Harassment/Assault

Domestic violence victims are disabused from coming forward due to the idea of bringing shame to their family.

Stalking cases are rarely taken seriously by the police

OH THERE”S WAY MORE BUT THIS LIST IS DARK ENOUGH SO LET”S SAVE THIS FOR A LATER DATE.

Working Conditions

Idols are heavily exploited and forced to follow strict rules such as having no social life, banned from having a boyfriend, etc. This is because they are supposed to sell a image of innocence and be there exclusively for their fans.

Anime creators are often forced to work long hours with little pay. This has resulted in a slump in the industry with very few new hires so they are forced to rely on the older animators whose health may fail sooner rather then later.

Funds are rarely given to films with artistic intent or that are political in nature, resulting the film industry suffering compared to the more internationally regarded South Korea.

Police Corruption

Until recently, Japanese police would work with organized crime to lower crime. The only reason they stopped was not out of concern for the everyday citizen but because they were embarrassed by the Yakuza when they began to show up more publically.

The media is often laughably compliant to the police, with they rarely offering a critical lens.

Police have undue influence on the Pachiko industry, with many retired officers being hired as muscle and for advice.

It is quite common for officers to embezzle from their slush funds.

In a effort to cover up crime, police often refuse to investigate mysterious or suspicious deaths, preferring to label them as accidents or suicide.

Police are often anti migrant and sexist to a fault.

It is neigh impossible to get a wiretap going due to rigid privacy laws.

Even the police can’t fire weapons as you need approval to even loose your gun so many officers have never fired a bullet.

Government Incompetence/Corruption

Voter Apathy is super high, with many elections having hilariously low turnout.

Many politicians have Yakuza connections, with the gang members serving as bodyguards and canvassing for votes.

Votes in the countryside are worth two compared to urban ones.

A lot of politicians are completely out of touch and constantly have to resign for gaffes (racism, sexism, historical revisionism, etc.)

Political acts are based on group consensus so it can take a long time to get meaningful reform done.

Criticism and debate is ironically frowned upon, with open criticism within a party being effectively banned.

Cronyism is common. While for the most part Japanese politics is based on expertise, many politicians are awarded ministries based on their support for the leader.

The NHK (Japanese version of the BBC) is largely neutral and free but the current Japanese government can dictate what it is to focus on temporarily.

Press Clubs are often given exclusive access to interviews and information from the government, so they get biased preferential treatment.

Okay I guess the point of this list is to bring attention to these issues and expand the opportunities of where to go when it comes to dark DC fanfiction. Don’t worry, here’s a cute Conan to make you smile!

[wannabeauthorclive]

For The First Time In Forever

Link - For The First Time In Forever

Author - Zofija aka me aka Eat_SometimesWrites_Sleep_Repeat on Ao3

Relationships - Peter Parker/Wade Wilson

POV - Wade Wilson

Warnings - One very brief mention of suicide, language, some angst

Rating - Teen and up

Length - 2,500 words

Summary - Wade never wanted to meet his heartmate. It seemed like a disaster to do so. But maybe, after the rollercoaster of the fight with the Rhino, maybe Wade will reconsider. And the boxes, they just love changing everything. And once the author writes one line, they have to use it to their advantage.

This is the first time I’m gonna actually post it on here, on Tumblr. So let’s see how it works out.

Spidey was mad. Mad at himself, mad at Wade. Spidey had always done everything by himself, he was a one man team. Wade understood that, he was the same. Until he met Spider-Man. The two of them worked well together, only Wade wasn’t allowed to kill anyone. But unlike him, Spidey was having a much harder time realizing that he could leave some things for Wade to do. And accepting that he was going to do them differently.

Wade was patient (No, you’re not) but this was the last straw. For himself and for Spidey. They both lost their patience, and both are annoyed at Spidey.

“I hate you!”

Wade knew that it wasn’t true. He knew that. He knew that Spidey was trying to blame someone else for the death of a civilian that laid on his shoulders. Wade was ok with it. He didn’t want Spidey to take the blame, even though Deadpool couldn't have killed the civilian.

He was on the other side of the fight, keeping Rhino distracted (What you do best) [Why do the civilians crowd around the fight anyway? It’s not a boxing match.] No, it is not. While Spidey was taking care of the civilians.

Spidey’s tone had a hate in it. But not in it. It had the I know I did something wrong but I’m going to blame my brother or friend even though you saw me do it type of tone. And Wade was going to let it go. But Spidey was one of those people who lies in then feels bad and owns up to it. Even if he would have gotten away with it.

And the “I hate you” that he yelled, Wade didn’t do much about it. He just has to wait until the whole thing blows over. Spidey would come to the realization that Wade did his job and he didn’t complete his. It would hurt him. Wade knew that. But he didn’t know what else to do.

[ J.J.J is going to be all over the death in tomorrow’s newspaper. ]

( OMG! Spidey! He’s never gonna live this down! This is horrible! )

Shit. [ I think you left the stove on. ] That’s not the problem. Wait, did I? No, He shook his head, This isn’t something that is just going to blow over.

It wasn’t going to blow over, Wade knew that. Spidey knew that. But Spidey was going to own up to it. Because that’s who he is. He takes the blame for everything he does and sometimes for the things he didn’t do. (Yeah, remember the time that you hurt someone super super bad and Spidey was there —) [Right! And then Spidey told the police that he did it so you—] Wouldn’t have to go to jail. Yes, I know. Wade played the scene over and over again in his head, trying to understand why Spidey did what he did.

Once he realized that Spidey was still talking and had stepped closer (He’s in our bubble! We’re gonna get COVID!) [Wrong world, dumbass. Also we wouldn’t get COVID cause we’re both wearing masks] (Screw you, White.)

“Shut up!” He yelled in his head. Spidey’s word vomit or whatever he was saying stopped. And if his mask was up, Wade knew he would see his mouth shut so fast he could’ve broke his jaw. That… wasn’t in my head. (Nope) [You told Spidey to shut up, good job] Fuck. Spidey was still staring at him with those big white eyes. Probably surprised [That’s obvious] and waiting to see if he was going to explain. “I was saying that to the boxes, not you. Continue talking.” [Great job. If I had hands I’d applaud you with how horrible that sounded.] Spidey continued to stare at him.

“You weren’t listening?” Spidey asked, anger so close to the surface.

“Ummm…” In those seconds that nobody said anything, Spidey seemed to break. His walls that Wade didn’t even know were up fell away.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice broke in the middle, sounding like he is confessing something that he never told anyone before. (I don’t know a lot of stuff—) [You don’t know shit] (But I know that that is exactly what he’s doing) [Of course that’s what he’s doing, that is self explanatory] Oh, will you guys shut up? “It’s like Gwen, and my Uncle Ben, and everyone else I’ve gotten close to. And I have no idea what to do. Someone gets hurt every time I try to save everyone.”

“Hey, hey hey” In the most comforting tone Wade can manage [He’s never —] I need you to shut up. Even the readers want to to shut up. (Yeah, White, you need to shut —) Same with you Yellow. You guys don’t exist in the other fics this author has written. So go away. Nobody wants you. (That hurts) I told you to shut up.

“Baby boy, come here.” Wade walks closer to Spidey, slowly as not to scare him. Or ruin the mood of this wonderful rooftop that they are occupying. He wraps him up in his arms, resting his chin on Spidey’s head. Spidey seems taller from afar, or maybe I grew… (We’re hugging Spider-Man!!!) [I have to admit, that’s pretty awesome.] OMG!!! We’re hugging Spidey!!! Best day of my life!!!

Spidey reached his hands up and pulled his mask up to his hairline, tucking his now unmasked face into Wade’s chest. Wade felt his heart stop at knowing that if he pulled back, he could see Spidey’s face. For the first time in forever.

(Cause for the first time in forever!)

[There’ll be music, there’ll be light]

(For the first time in forever!)

[I’ll be dancing through the night]

Spidey whimpered. Tears falling on Wade’s suit.

“Baby boy, don’t cry.” Wade says as he leans back to look into Spidey’s glassy eyes. His real eyes, not the eyes no his mask. The sight hurt him. His baby boy shouldn’t be hurting like this.

(Don’t know if I’m elated or gassy)

[But I’m somewhere in that zone]

(‘Cause of the first time in forever)

[I won’t be alone]

Spidey’s eyes are red rimmed from crying, tears creating canyons in his cheeks, his beautiful mouth pulled into a frown.

(I can’t wait to meet everyone!)

[What if I meet the one?]

He drags a gloved hand across Spidey’s cheek, resting it there spread across the side of his face. Spidey nuzzling his face down into Wade’s palm. “You did the best you could. You can’t save everyone, Sweetums. It’s not possible.” Spidey mumbled something into Wade’s palm.

(Tonight imagine me gown and all)

[Fetching draped against the wall]

(The picture of sophisticated grace)

[I suddenly see him standing there]

(A beautiful stranger, tall and fair)

[I wanna stuff some chocolate in my face]

Spidey reaches one hand down to his other hand and grabs the top of Wade’s glove. He’s going to take off my glove. Wade’s heart races and he tries to tug his hand away. His scars are not something that he needs to impose on Spidey. Especially in the emotional moment.

(But then we laugh and talk all evening)

[Which is totally bizarre]

(Nothing like the life I’ve lead so far)

But Spidey persisted. He took off the glove, dropped it to the ground, and linked their hands. Not worrying about the scars. Wade sighed glad to know that Spidey didn’t care about the scars. At least the ones on his hand, the ones on his face may be a different deal.

(For the first time in forever!) [Hey! It was my turn to say that line!] (Bummer, I said it first.) [Fuck you, Yellow]

[There’ll be magic, there’ll be fun]

(For the first time in forever!)

[I could be noticed by someone]

Wade gasped. His hand searing. He tried to let go of Spidey’s hand but he couldn’t, tried to tugged his hand out of Spidey’s viselike grip. He looked up to Spidey, and his eyes where foggy. Like he wasn’t there or he was seeing something different. Like he was bewitched.

It was like an elephant charged into his chest, he sucked in a quick, sharp breath. And he stopped seeing Spidey or the rooftop or New York around them. He could still feel them. But now he was… seeing Spidey. But not the present Spidey.

It was the first time they met. Spider-Man beating his ass while trading quips back and forth cause he caught Wade killing people in his city. The first time they ate tacos together. The first time Spidey came to Wade’s place, Wade beat his ass in video games. For all Spidey is at fighting, he’s shit at Mario Cart. The first time Spidey congratulated him for not killing anyone for a whole month.

Every one of their first times doing things together. All their second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth times doing things together. Their fights, taco nights, and adventures were all there. Every memory that Spidey was in flashed through his mind, like he was there all over again. And when it was all over, he stared at Spidey, at his heart mate. The one person that all walls can come down around. The one person where lies don’t exist. The one person who, once you find them, is never supposed to leave. Not until death.

The one person that Wade never wanted to meet. Thinking that no-one would ever love him. Love has never been his friend. Love hates him. But maybe, just maybe, Love chose right.

(And I know it is totally crazy)

[To dream I’d find romance]

(But for the first time in forever)

[At least I’ve got a chance]

It was a brush of the lips. Nothing more than a second that their lips touched. But Spidey had kissed him. Kissed him!! Wait, his mask has to be off for Spidey to kiss him. Wade, not wanting to let go of Spidey’s hand, took his hand off his face and rubbed it on his. If his heart beats any faster, it’s gonna stop. His mask was off. The gorgeous man across from him was staring at his scared face.

(Don’t let them in, don’t let them see)

[Be the good girl you always have to be]

(Conceal, don’t feel, put on a show)

[Make one wrong move and everyone will know]

He tried to let go, turn away, put on his mask, leave. But Spidey held him still, not letting him leave, not letting put his mask back on. He closed his eyes, trying to keep one layer of protection. If Spidey left. If he yelled, if he was disgusted, Wade doesn’t think he’d be able to live. Not with the pain of his Heartmate rejecting him. Multiple bullets to his own head if that happened.

(But it’s only for today)

[It’s only for today]

(It’s agony to wait)

[It’s agony to wait]

(Tell the guards to open up the gate)

[The gate]

There was some shuffling, but Spidey never let go of his hand, or let him leave, then there was a firm kiss. One that reminded Wade of Spidey's stubbornness when he said something Spidey disagreed with. Just resting there, not moving, keeping contact. It wasn’t much longer than the one before, but it was firmer more solid and secure. Wade kept his eyes closed during the whole thing, not wanting to look at the person who was kissing him. Not wanting to look at the person once they open their eyes, not wanting to see the disgust.

(For the first time in forever)

[Don’t let them in, don’t let them see]

(I’m getting what I’m dreaming of)

[Be the good girl you always have to be]

(A chance to change my lonely world)

[Conceal]

(A chance to find true love)

[Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know]

“Open your eyes, Pool. Look at me” Spidey’s voice was solid but comforting. But not enough for Wade to let all his walls crumble. ‘Cause once he opens his eyes, they’ll crumble. Turn to dust. And it can either go wonderfully right or it could become a disaster. And even though Spidey brought his walls down to free the tears and take the hug. Wade wasn’t — wait, Spidey took his wall down to Deadpool. Not to Wade. Not to his Heartmate. What if he doesn’t want a Heartmate? What if he doesn’t want to deal with Wade? What if? To many things can go wrong if he opens his eyes. He will not open his eyes.

“DP, please, open your eyes. Let me see what color they are.”

(I know it all ends tomorrow)

[So it has to be today]

Wade opens his eyes, “Seriously? You wanted me to open my eyes so you can see what color they are.” He smirks, raising the skin where an eyebrow would be.

“Yes, Pool, I wanted to see what color they were.” Spidey smiles, lighting his entire face, looking into his eyes. “They’re blue. Prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Wade’s smirk disappears. He opened his eyes. He did the one thing he told himself he wouldn’t do.

But it’s not like he thought. Spidey’s smiling. Smiling. At Wade. No disgust in his big doe brown eyes. And it hit him. Spidey wasn’t disgusted. Not at him, not at his scars.

A gasp escapes his mouth, and he tugs Spidey closer, so close they’re practically merged together. They were standing close before but now, not a sliver of light could pass between their bodies. But, the world is waking up, not enough light to slip though if it had the space. Wade sweeps Spidey’s mask off he top of his head, freeing his head of fluffy brown hair. Burying his face into the fluff, he smells like home. Home like he’s never known before. His arms wrap around his slim body, almost coming back around with how lean he is. Spidey wraps his arms around Wade, finding room around the katanas, tucking his head under Wade’s chin and into his chest.

After few, or maybe it was many, minutes, Spidey backed away. Far enough away that their tender hug ended. Spidey held out his hand, “I’m Peter Parker, Heartmate.”

Wade jumped into the handshake, wanting to share his name with his Heartmate. Shaking Peter’s hand enthusiastically, he said, “Wade Wilson, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Heartmate.” The laugh that he got in response was the best sound in the entire world. Yet Wade was only partly sad to put a stop to it.

Still holding Peter’s hand, he tugged it, bringing a tumbling Peter right up to his chest. He slammed his lips onto Peter’s, stopping Peter’s beautiful laugh, not wanting to waste anymore time to have their first real kiss. Peter’s soft lips reacted, moving against Wade’s in perfect synchronization. It was rushed and hot, not how Wade had imagined his first kiss with Peter to go. But perfect none the less.

The second kiss was different. Slower and more love than heat. Both enjoying finding their other half. Both basking in the love of their Heartmate. The one that they don’t have to hide any of their self from. No lies when you’re with your Heartmate. Lies don’t exist when you’re with your Heartmate. And together, they can face off any enemy. Including tomorrow’s press.

(‘Cause for the first time in forever)

[Nothing’s in my way!]

[kangals]

probably a shit platform for this but hey, vet PSAs that i’m writing bc if i have to kiss ass to one more pissy client i’m going to implode:

-virtually every vet ER in the US is understaffed right now. there has been a shortage of ER vets in the workforce for years and it’s only getting worse. so many reasons - massive schooling expense/debt, high turnover, physically and emotionally draining job, etc. even the large chains like VCA are having to completely shut down ERs in some locations because they just can’t keep it staffed. ppl just don’t want to go into emergency med when primary and specialty care is an option and honestly i don’t blame them.

-support staff - techs, assistants, front desk - are terribly underpaid, basically industry-wide. this isn’t a super profitable business anyway but if you’re not a doctor, you’re shouldering most of that burden. and then they have the same problem of staff shortages, high turnover, high stress, etc.

-COVID protocols are likely going to stick around at least through the fall - thats assuming we don’t get a second wave then (aka super unlikely). that means curbside visits, aka get used to your pet going in to the hospital by themselves while you wait outside. (obvs the exception to this is euthanasias)

-sidenote: your pet does not need you to accompany them. for everyone that whines and cries about how their pet gets nervous without them, they’ll be scared, 9/10 times the pet is significantly better behaved and more calm/relaxed without the owner present. the building is much calmer and quieter without foot traffic and it reflects in the pets. either your pet has a problem bad enough it needs to be seen now without you, or it doesn’t and you want to wait until you can go in - thats it. pick one.

-summer is the busy season for ER vets. that’s just how it is. more dogs outside getting injured and hit by cars, more cats roaming and eating poison and fighting each other, more parasites, more traffic, more heat stroke, more poisonous plants, more puppies/kittens, more pools, more wild animals, etc. summer is always crazy even without the added spice of a pandemic.

-yes you will almost certainly have a long wait time if you go to a vet ER now. yes its annoying. no calling every 10 minutes to ask if you can be seen is not helping. heres a tip: if you bring your pet to the ER and everyone drops everything to get them seen ASAP? thats a VERY BAD thing. be grateful your pet is stable enough to wait with you instead of being rushed in in critical shape.

-yes everything is still the same price. no you do not get a “discount” because we have safety protocols to keep you and our staff from getting sick, why the fuck would you even ask that.

-sidenote: yes the ER is expensive. no vets do not purposefully try and inflate your bill with “unnecessary” tests, just fucking tell them you have a budget. no vets/hospitals do not “get rich off your pets.” if you want to get rich there’s about a million other jobs they’d be more qualified to do that do not involving intense emotional labor and make way more money. if you do not trust that your vet has your pet’s best interests in mind then FIND ANOTHER VET.

-yes phone hold times are long. most hospitals are dealing with 200%+call volume bc they’re doing almost everything with the clients outside the clinic, everyone and their grandmother has got a new puppy they want seen, and no one has the patience to wait on hold more than 10 minutes so they just keep hanging up and re-calling repeatedly and putting themselves in the back of the phone queue and getting mad it’s not working. thats like the phone equivalent of slamming a call elevator button over and over, it does nothing, stop.

-sidenote: if you call an ER for a update and they tell you no news is good news and the drs are busy but we’ll call you at X time, wait until X time. you do not need hourly updates on your dog that has been sleeping all day! the drs have more important shit to do. again if you don’t trust your vet then find a new one.

-yes everything pretty much sucks right now. no ones happy. the vets aren’t, the staff isn’t, admin isn’t, clients aren’t. we want thing to go back to normal, but they can’t right now, and thats just the way things are. you’re not getting special terrible treatment, you’re just getting what the world is serving and you’re going to have to deal with it like everyone else right now.

-yes having a sick pet sucks. its the worst! vets and vet staff are all animal lovers and pet owners too. we also go apeshit when our pets are sick bc its awful and you feel helpless and frustrated. we get it. but if you take out your anger on your vet/vet staff you are a genuinely bad person. do you even know how nasty clients are getting to our staff? they scream and curse and throw tantrums. they yell racial slurs at PoC staff. they threaten to burn the clinic (and animals) all down. they threaten to kick down the doors and strangle/punch/beat staff. they call the cops. they make us call the cops on them. they emotionally abuse and gaslight and say terrible hurtful things and make ppl who are trying their damnedest to help your pets break down in tears. you wonder why vets and vet staff have such a high suicide rate??

-sidenote: if you’ve been to the vet recently and your experience didn’t totally suck (not counting long wait times or safety protocols bc as mentioned thats just how it be right now) pls just write them a thank you card or something. tell them you appreciate that they’re there for you and your pet and thank them for their hard work and help. name names if you remember them. everyone’s morale is super low right now and notes from clients are genuinely treasured and loved. (normally i’d say send food but, again, safety protocols).

anyway i need to go back to blowing smoke up these peoples asses. if you disagree or want to argue any of these points i literally do not give a shit about you or your opinions. be nice to your vets everything sucks right now they’re just trying to help.

[thebyunhip]

Start Up | episodes 1 ~ 12

I feel like right now is a good moment to talk about the show, with the time jump and stuff. I’ll talk about the characters and then the plot, as I usually do. This is going to be a very long post, I never had so much to say about a drama before, so I’ll add a cut and it’s entirely up to you if you want to read my rant.

Han Ji Pyeong: look, he is not my favorite guy but I also don’t hate him and here’s why: 1) I don’t care how good he is at his job, I don’t care how rich he is, I don’t care how rough he had it in life, nothing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING gives him the right to be a dick to others. I understand that he is scared, had no one care for him and had no one to care for but he is still a human who lives in society. Being polite (and that’s really the only thing I’m discussing here), is not the same being someone that lets people step on him. And we’re all vert aware of the fact that he can tel people the truth, as harsh as it may be, without bein a complete fucking bastard 2) I fucking hate the tropes “he got there first” and “here’s a troubled man, fix him girl”. Like, just no. Teenager me would love that shit and eat it up like a fucking starved bitch, but not right now. I also think he is incredibly selfish and self-absorbed however both of these I can overlook, this is the kind of thing that be blamed on his upbringing (or lack of it).

Seo Dal Mi: the writers really said “let’s take this girl’s sister and mom away, make her sister say very stupid and hurtful things to her, now kill off her dad, she’ll get into a good college but will drop out because she has bills to pay”. I like that she is, after all that shit, bright and is willing to fight for things, not let her dad’s memory die. The world is telling her “bitch stay down” and she is legit yelling back “no motherfucker, I will not” and that’s great. The one thing I don’t like about her is that she is way too forgiving, I mean she found out that she was lied to by grandma, her mentor and her boyfriend of sorts and she just tossed that aside like it was nothing. Some of it I can understand, they work together so she would have to, you know, keep somethings inside. It all went away too fast, she forgave all three of them very quickly.

Nam Do San: at this point, if you’ve seen any of my previous posts, you’ll know that that he is my favorite and I’ll use this bit here to tell you why. I’ll put aside the cuteness, okay? Out of all the characters in this drama Do San was the one with the most personal growth. In the beginning you had a guy who couldn’t speak properly to strangers, let alone look at people eyes, when people put him down (yes, I’m fucking looking at Ji Pyeong and his dad) he kept his head down. And slowly, throughout these 12 episodes we see him mature (because yes, he was very immature), he can now answer, he can look at people in the eyes, hell he even can start fights. Like dude, he stood up to his father twice. He is not perfect and I’m  no trying to paint him as if he were. He still has problem to deal with but he is open to do improve. This was not said anywhere in the show and it’s only a personal thought of mine, Do San suffers of the imposter syndrome and Asperger Syndrome, and that would explain some of his behaviors.

Won In Jae: now let’s talk about an underused character. She is here simply to be a shitty sister and drag Dal Mi down so we all can watch our beautiful protagonist rise again from the ashes. When you look at her, she just has that resting bitch face so she makes it easy to dislike her  (but please can we please stop type casting Han Na as a bitch or someone can please tell me a show/movie she did where she is not one?).

Grandma: finally the real “villain” of the whole story. I get what she was trying to do, okay? Dal Mi’s life was spiraling out of control, shit hit the sky and she need some comfort and surely the letters were the best way to do that and it’s fine. But you all are willing to tell me that in those 15 years she didn’t have a single chance to say “hey kid, listen, there was never a Do San. I asked some boy to write you letters but he is gone now and so are the letters” or idk “The boy who wrote you letters was Ji Pyeong, a kid I used to help, he didn’t want to use his own name so we chose one from the news”. I’ve changed my mind, this not HJP fault. Its grandma’s.

Now, let’s talk about this drama’s biggest and most unforgiving mistake: the first episode. They spent way too much time on the letters and Ji Pyeong, making a lot of built up and then they didn’t showed the main guy at all. We got to see Do San in the last what, 5 seconds of the episode? I can get the confusion people are having as to who is the main and second lead here, for a second even I was confused. I only knew teenager Ji Pyeong wasn’t the main guy because before watching the show I read that Joo Hyuk’s character name was Do San. The first episode was a bad call. I mean it has 1 hour and 24 of running time and they could only spare 5 SECONDS TO THE MAIN GUY? No wonder there is a shit show towards Do San.

The entire revenge plot was poorly used but I’ll admit that I like the whole “my biggest revenge is to prove HJP wrong”. We’ve seen the destroy company, kill a guy ploy way too many times.But the entire thing was just tossed in there, there was maybe one clue but it lead to believe that Yeong San would steal the code, not seek revenge.

I know that some people were bummed out that there the show doesn’t focus a lot on how to build a startup but this is mostly a romance drama, so they wouldn’t include a lot of how to here.

Also, I know that people don’t think Do San has real problems because you know he has both parents and Ji Pyeong is an orphan, but like please… just listen. Being someone that has to live up to parent’s approval and expectations, especially to academic and business success, is not a problem that we westerns face so constantly in our lives. I know it happens, I’m not living under a rock, but we can’t even begin to compare to how it is for them and us. Suicide rates are high in Asian countries amongst younger people who fail to reach standards set by their parents and the society. Both Do San and Ji Pyeon have problem, of course, but they are very different and incomparable.  

As for the next four episodes… I think we will see a very changed Do San, more serious, a lit bit more calloused from the three years in the US (the black gave it out). I feel like Dal Mi might have changed a bit but I can’t point how. Ji Pyeong had on line in the preview and it was enough to not give me any hopes about him.

I’ll just say this here because I feel like I have to: Han Ji Pyeong is not such a great a second lead, full of layers, that could actually make people question why he isn’t the main guy. The only character ever that has that right is Baek In Ho, and would you look at that he is also a character that went through shit but is not an asshole just because he can.