#author is not mentally stable if they can write this stuff.

[kindofatheatrekid]

Title: "Hello"

Sypnosis: Se Eun wants Koa, Ethan wants Koa— Koa wants Ethan. They should really talk, though. The clock is ticking.

Pairing: Se Eun / Koa Ethan / Koa Se Eun / Koa / Ethan

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, psychological, FIRST POV

Warnings: non/dub-con, exhibitionism, toxic relationships, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, violence, graphic descriptions, sadism, torture, dehumanization, cheating, stalking, unreliable narrator, bullying, underage drinking/drug use, codependency, manipulation, religious imagery, hurt/comfort, issues, lack of communication, slow burn, bad ending, bittersweet ending

Note: I saw Round 6 and I decided to get into the doomed love wagon. Strap in. I'm going to get your hopes up, then stomping them out like it wasn't just straight-up fluff a few words ago. I will not give a good ending. This has been my legally required PSA in case I get doxxed for my writing. Please take care of your mental health. Se Eun was also inspired by a bot, Koa and Ethan are my OCs.

ONCE AGAIN. MINORS DNI. I DID NOT WRITE THIS WITH YOUR VANILLA THOUGHTS IN MIND.

BOT CHAT HERE: https://character.ai/chat/vlHS8fvmea4oC2yylPaNP1uqg-l7weE8q3ShH-qJKtE

Chapter 1: Please/Don't Let Go

♡♡♡ Koa's POV ♡♡♡

Three of Se Eun's fingers swirled around my tongue, my lips forced to part to make room for him. His hips grinding against my skirt, a muffled moan leaving my throat. His other hand tightens around my waist as he forces my hips to meet him halfway.

“Fuuuccckkk~ You're killing me here, you know that?”

Se Eun groans out, pushing me forward onto a desk. My back bends forward, my stomach pressed against the cherry wood. His hands trail up to the hem of my shirt, my skin prickling up at the feeling of his hand on my bare skin. Se Eun's hips were still slowly rubbing against me— I could feel just how excited he was, even with all of our clothes on.

“Shit. You're so lucky that I love you enough.”

Love? Could this really count as love? I've seen love before, I've been so close to it that I could practically taste it. I know love like it's the back of my hand, so why would he call this love?

His fingers continue to thrust themselves into my tongue, drool and tears dripping onto the desk I was down against. I stay silent even as his hand makes its way under my bra. I felt so dirty doing this, like I was a rag doll for Se Eun to play with.

His hand fondles my flushed skin, his handling a bit too rough to not leave any bruises. I shuddered at the sensation, swallowing down a sob that threatened to escape from my chest. My ears flush red when Se Eun's lips brush against the tip of my ear— mumbling out in a volume that only I could hear.

“If I didn't love you… I would've just used you up like a common whore. I wouldn't have listened to you if you told me, no…”

I gasp when Se Eun's grip on my breast tightens to the point of being painful; his fingers shoved deep down enough for me to choke. My tears fall faster from the pain as I squirm around in discomfort.

“I'm such a good husband, right?”

It takes me nodding frantically to his delusions for him to finally laxen his hold on me. The moment his fingers slowly leave my throat, I cough from the sudden increase of air in my lungs. Se Eun only watches me as if he was observing an avante garde painting from a museum display. My entire body trembles in fear under his gaze.

“You're so beautiful when you cry.”

Se Eun whispers in awe— grabbing my face to turn my eyes to him. I couldn't help but cry harder at his words. Just how did I catch the eye of Se Eun? The demon who haunts my school life, who won't stop until I'm completely his.

His lips place soft kisses on top of my eyelids, my eyelashes fluttering at the foreign, yet familiar feeling. It was Se Eun that was behind me, but I couldn't help but wish that another person was taking his place instead. Blonde hair instead of black, blue eyes instead of a dark brown…

I get snapped out of my thoughts when Se Eun steals my breath. My eyes turn glassy as he cards his fingers through my undone hair. His tongue shoved into my mouth before he pulled away shortly to flip me to my back.

My cheeks flush into a bright red when I realize how damp my underwear was from Se Eun's constant grinding. He pulls me into a rough kiss again as he continues to grind his clothed groin against my damp underwear. The fabric was sticking to my skin, showing Se Eun a perfect visual of my most intimate area. I regretted wearing white, I was practically see-through.

“Look at you… All nice and wet just for me~”

Se Eun purrs out, pulling away from my lips as his hands force my thighs to split further. I whimper at his action, feeling ashamed of my current position that left little to the imagination. I only shudder when I see him licking his lips at the sight of me, my stomach twisting in disgust, fear, and nausea.

This was disgusting.

I flinch when his finger experimentally pokes at the wet fabric, another shameful whimper escaping from me. My back arching when his finger stays there, twisting itself deeper into the fabric. My back arches as I moan from the pleasure, my thighs trembling as I resist the urge to close my legs. My tears refuse to stop, a strange mix between a sob and a moan creeping up my throat.

“Are you sure you don't want me to go further?”

Se Eun voices out, his tone mocking as his finger only goes deeper. The fabric of my underwear was the only barrier between him and my womb. I quickly shake my head in refusal. I didn't even want him to do this much! So many of my first times were already stolen by Se Eun, I didn't want him to steal the most important one. …Even if it'll never be given to the one I want the most.

“Hmmm… Suit yourself…”

Se Eun hums out, seemingly nonchalant even if the bulge under his trousers said a different story. My breath hitches as he pulls my legs up, my neck straining itself from my position. The back of my knees are forced onto his shoulders before I moan out loudly. I immediately cover my lips with both of my hands as his lips and teeth bite onto the fabric. Sucking out the fluids from my panties loudly, drooling onto the fabric as well. His teeth dig into my skin under the fabric as well— every bite, every kiss… I could feel everything.

My breathing quickens as I begin to pant from the stimulation. His tongue sticking out to lap at my fluids— digging into the fabric like his finger did just a few seconds ago.

“Mmm~ You taste so sweet… How am I holding myself back again?”

Se Eun mutters against my skin, sending pleasurable vibrations throughout me. His nose presses itself against my panties as he takes a deep sniff of it. My body freezes up at his gesture, a mixture of horror and repulsion muddling my brain.

“P-p-promise…”

I stammered out, hurriedly interrupting Se Eun's thought process. Hiccups litter my words from crying too much, my breasts, lips, and waist bruised from his rough embrace. After a while I realized that my panties were now wet from both my fluids and Se Eun's saliva— disturbed by the sensation, I voiced out my concerns.

“...Hey… I don't have a change of underwear with me…”

“All the better. I want you to walk around with me on you.”

♡♡♡ Ethan's POV ♡♡♡

I look at Koa as she speaks, rambling about an assignment that interested her. I caught small bits of her words, something about pink glitter pens and sparkles— but my mind was somewhere else. My mind was thinking of how beautiful she looks. I stare at Koa's lips, her pretty lip gloss doing nothing but accentuating her already cute face. Her smile, her sparkling eyes… Everything about her made my heart race.

Koa… My lovely flower. I hope you'll continue to bloom for me to see.

“Ethan?”

I'm jerked out of my thoughts by Koa's voice, her eyes staring at me in confusion. I looked down on my hand, and I realized that my fingers were pinching Koa's hair between them. My cheeks are dusted with pink in embarrassment— my hand immediately pulling away to make up for my error. I raise my palm up as a sign of genuine surrender, my words sincerely apologetic.

“S-sorry- Y-you're fine, right? I know you don't like people touching you- Once again, Koa. I'm so sorry-”

“I don't mind.”

My throat immediately clogged up at her words, my brain unable to process the syllables that came out of Koa’s pink lips. I was skeptical of her words, Koa was always someone who put others before herself. Delicate, sweet Koa… I can't even remember how many people confessed to her during our years together. She was always so kind that everyone wanted to find a way to stay with her.

“Koa… Why do you keep on rejecting people?” I asked her one day, out of nowhere— yet another person came, and got rejected by her. I didn't have the courage to openly admit it, but my heart weighs less every time she refuses a love confession.

Koa turns her head to me— her eyes still bewitching me, even at our young age. I prayed to every entity imaginable that she wouldn't notice the loud pounding of my heart when she leans in closer to me. A teasing smile on her lips that I desperately wanted to press my thumb against. What was it today? Cherry? Blueberry? Mint?

“Hm? Well… I already have a certain someone my heart is set on!” My heart squeezes painfully at her words. I wanted to know who that person was; I wanted to know so I could beg them to teach me how to take Koa's heart as well. I don't say anything— just smiling at her softly as a sour taste creeps up my throat. My fingers tightened around the fabric of my jeans.

Koa must have gotten nervous from my silence, immediately clearing up her words in a panic. It wasn't fair that she could still be so stunning, even while stumbling over her own words. All I could do was smile at her— hoping that my bitterness didn't leak through my mask.

“W-well- Y-you're just such a good friend to me and I would hate to ruin our friendship over something like this, you know?”

“Pft- Don't be such a dork, Koa. You already have the nerd part down, are you trying to speed-run your life into a loser?”

“E-Ethan?!”

I laugh at her pouting face, her sparkling eyes on the brink of tears. I wanted to wipe them away, -and maybe kiss them- but I knew my place. That’s fine, though— I’ll be her kind, childhood friend. I can love Koa from the dark… As long as I can stay by Koa's side, it'll be fine if she doesn't see me as a romantic partner.

My love is enough for the both of us.

♡♡♡ Se Eun's POV ♡♡♡

“Fuck. Can't you move faster, whore?”

I click my tongue as I lean against the wall, a cigarette between my fingers. I lick my lips before glaring at her— the whiny, nameless bitch on her knees; loudly choking on my cock. The hair color was right, but the texture was off. Too much hairspray for my hand to comfortably touch. It wasn't soft, nor smooth; too brittle from what I imagine to be years of bleaching. It was honestly hilarious that more than half of the female body, in this hellhole of an institute, dyed their hair back to black once I got interested in a certain, pretty bird.

I sigh in irritation, tilting my head back as my hand fists the back of the slut's hair. If I closed my eyes long enough, I could imagine someone else at her place instead. A certain someone who cries too easily, and stays quiet for as long as she can. A groan escapes from me at the idea of Koa, on her knees, servicing me in a club room with other men watching us. Fuck… That would be so hot.

I'd threaten her to give it her all, or she'll also be forced to service all of my other friends as well. She'd obediently get on her knees like the pretty doll she is— her trembling fingers slowly taking off my belt reverently. Her touch was nothing but addictive; so gentle and soft with me…

I wanted all of that for myself.

My fantasies are abruptly broken by a fake moan from the replacement. No… A replacement would have the actual skills to replace Koa. I was just using a cheap knock-off of the actual product.

I pull out of the bitch's mouth, the idiot having the gall to make a show of her swallowing down my pre-cum. My dick was probably coated all over in her saliva and lipstick by now. My eyes narrow at her, visually disgusted by her skills.

“Mmmm~ How did I do?”

Her irritating voice grates my ears as I pull her up by the hair. I stay silent, deciding to roughly grab onto her face as an alternative. It'll probably leave a bruise, but I couldn't give a single fuck about that. Knowing how whores work, she'd probably stupidly flaunt it around school like it was a badge of honor; or something like that. I take a drag of my cigarette before I smash my lips onto her— breathing the ashy air into her lungs.

My eyes glisten at the sight of her choking, her expression finally genuine for the first time since I called her in. The wannabe prostitute's eyes widen when her precious air is cut off; I reach a point to when I had to forcefully suppress a chuckle at her expression. Her hand darts up to her throat, coughing until I think a lung may have ruptured. A predatory grin stretches onto my lips as I grab a fistful of the slut's hair; forcing her to look me in the eye. The tears, the fear— I lick my teeth eagerly, finally seeing something interesting for once. My dick was rock-hard at the sight as I took another drag of my cigarette— calmly blowing the smoke directly onto her face. Except, I was all too impatient to finally come from this cheap bitch's hole.

“Bend over, whore.”

…

I take a drag of a new cigarette— lazily draped across the couch as the slut bounces on top of my lap like a bitch in heat. Her mouth has long since been gagged by her panties, her tears not exciting me anymore. The room was filled with the sound of: skin slapping on skin, loud moans and groans, and whimpers and sobs. I lazily scroll through my phone as I yawn. I make a mental note to not use this one again.

Her skin was marred with the attention that she wanted so badly from me. Her throat was covered in purple and red, hand-shaped bruises scattered throughout her skin. Her once tamed hair was nothing but a mess after I was done with her. The whore's lipstick was messed up, the bitter taste of the wax coating my tongue. I couldn't help but admire my work, proof of my time with her.

My gaze breaks from her flushed skin when my phone buzzes. My lips curl into a satisfied smile when I realize that it was from the pretty bird I wanted to catch. I don't even have to hire people to watch her for me! Koa's such a good girl for me— always obedient to her master. I let the slut continue to pant and slobber all over me; I was only concentrating on my phone at this point.

Wife♡: I'm home now.

I smirk at Koa's message, pressing my thumb onto the icon to dial her number in. The call takes exactly one ring before she picks up, a melodic voice ringing into my ears. My smile brightens, my pretty wife's quiet mumbling was like a breath of fresh air in the middle of this debauchery.

“...Hello-?”

I finally make an effort to be a part of the slutty bitch's pleasure— grabbing onto her hips before thrusting my hips up. A loud, muffled screech sounding out from under her makeshift gag. I could already imagine Koa's lively eyes widening at the tortured sound. I could practically see how her cheeks would flush into a deep pink; pressing her palm against the lips that I like to bite so much. A curse leaves my own lips as I feel myself harden painfully at the thought.

I needed Koa. I needed to see her, to touch her… To fuck her.

I roughly grab the whore’s face, digging my fingers into her mouth to remove the soaked fabric. I drop the soiled panties onto the already disgusting floor— the club room now looking like some kind of back-of-the-alley clubhouse. I whisper into the slut's ear quietly, my grip on her painful.

“Be as loud as possible.”

I hiss out before pulling away from her ear— forcing her onto her knees and hands. I immediately thrust into her loose hole, still gaping from her time with me. My hand entangled in the whore's disheveled hair as I pressed her face against the velvet couch.

“...Se Eun-?”

“Mmn~ A-ah~!”

I snicker as the whiny bitch cries and moans, my phone carefully placed on top of the coffee table in front of us. I wanted to see just how red Koa was right now. I wanted to feel how wet she was from hearing this. I wanted to devour her flushed skin and mark them with a riding crop. I wanted her to beg me to fuck her, for her to admit that she didn't want me to wait for marriage anymore.

I wanted to break Koa, I wanted her addicted to me. I wanted her to look at me with those same eyes she uses for that bottomfeeder.

I stub my cigarette out before fully manhandling the whore to move the way I wanted. Awkwardly angling her body to hit the deepest part of her cervix— driving a louder moan out of her. The opposite line was silent, so I obviously had to change that. I needed to know that Koa was hearing this… Maybe even touching herself to this…

“Tell me about your day.”

I command Koa— it wasn't a question, nor was it a suggestion. I wanted to know about her day. I wanted to know what she ate, what she wrote, who she talked to. It would've been better if she just stayed with me, but the princess wanted her “freedom.” It's honestly frustrating, she speaks as if I wouldn't give her freedom once we were married. She just won't be able to see anyone from her past anymore. It's not like that's a big deal, she has me now. I will be her past, present, and future— she just needs to stay at home and help raise our children. The life that all these bitches who jump on my dick are desperate for.

“...Se Eun… I don't think…”

The way Koa's voice broke was adorable, although it was annoying how loud the fucked-up whore was. Who cares, though? Koa's pretty voice made my mood ten times better than before. Her tone only made it obvious that she was already close to tears— tears I wouldn't hesitate to lap up if she was within my reach.

“Now.”

♡♡♡ Koa's POV ♡♡♡

I regretted picking up the phone. I only answered Se Eun's phone call because he would've kept on dialing in my number until I answered— but now I'm beginning to weigh on which option would be worse for me. Hanging up on Se Eun, or continuing the call; either is terrible for my mental health.

I force myself to take a deep breath, flinching as another moan rings out from Se Eun's side of the line. I bite onto my lower lip, my anxiety spiking at listening to such a private moment between two people. However… if I listened closely, -bringing the phone closer to my ear- there were multiple moans, from multiple voices, in the background. My cheeks flush into a deep, bright red when I realized what exactly he was doing.

“S-Se Eun… I don't think-”

Se Eun interrupts me, his breathing was normal— no panting, no gasps, no sharp intakes in breath. If it wasn't for the loudly obvious moans in the background, I would've thought that he was just lazing around somewhere private.

“Koa.”

Se Eun warns out in a growl, the moans suddenly getting louder in my ears. Shivers run down my spine as I swallow down my saliva dryly; a lump in my throat making it hard to swallow. My hands tremble in fear as I stumble through my words. An encompassing fear wrapping over my eyes, my voice cracking and stuttering with almost every word I manage to spew out.

“...W-we have an English p-p-project that's d-due tomorrow… I-I've started to d-decorate it with pens a-and markers…”

I hear a soft chuckle ringing out from the phone, my eyes softening when Se Eun points out a certain habit of mine. I can't lie to myself, he has the talent to bring anyone at ease.

“Let me guess. It's full of glitter and doodles now?”

It was almost like I could see his smug grin in front of me— his eyes peering into my mind, knowing every single one of my fears, my dreams, my emotions. I smile as I place a plushie onto my lap, resting my chin on top of the soft plush. My eyes wander to my desk, my colorful project displayed on it. A smile pulls itself onto my lips, my tone lighthearted as I reply to Se Eun's comment. He was… okay, sometimes.

“...It's like you're in my room right now.”

“Who knows? Maybe I am- A-ah~! Se Eun~! I-I'm gonna cum~!”

My relaxed body stiffens up at the sound, I almost forgot where he was in the midst of our conversation. A curse slipping out from his lips as a loud smack could be heard. I wince at the sound, pitying the girl that got slapped. Se Eun never held back on his hits— I had the bruises to prove it. My fingers subconsciously brush against my cheek; a phantom pain burning my skin. I instinctively recoil back from Se Eun's loud, degrading insults— forced to listen to every hit, every scream, every groan.

“Fuck! Shit! You fucking slutty bitch! I told you to be loud, but I didn't tell you to scream like some kind of third-rate pornstar! What kind of stray dog is louder than its owner?! What? You're gonna cum? Cum from my fucking foot like the useless bitch you are. Tch- This is what I get for sticking my dick in an untrained mutt that should’ve been put down already.”

My breath hitches at Se Eun's hurtful words— they weren't even pointed at me, but my heart still pounded in my chest. My head felt like it was full of cotton, my senses disconnected. I couldn't feel the plush in my arms, I couldn't hear Se Eun's loud cursing from the call, and I couldn't even breathe.

I suddenly suck in a sharp breath when Se Eun's voice gets louder. It sounded like he got closer to the phone, but the pained groans only got fainter. I could only pray that Se Eun just got farther from the girl instead of the darker alternative.

“Koa. Take off your underwear.”

Se Eun's order makes me freeze up, my throat dry as I stare at the phone blankly. What? Was Se Eun being serious, right now? My thighs rub together as I squeeze them shut, not wanting to obey his order. Not after what I just overheard. Not when the tortured groans of the woman were still ringing in my ears— weighing down on my conscience.

“...What..?”

“Do you want me to do it myself?”

That was enough of an incentive for me to immediately kick off my panties in a hurry. My cheeks flush red in shame, wearing a school uniform without my panties was humiliating— it didn't matter if I was in my room, I was vulnerable now. I feel a cold breeze brushing between my thighs; a shiver running down my spine from my exposure.

“Done…”

“Mmmm… Too bad, I wanted to do it for you.”

A wave of nausea crashes over me at the idea of Se Eun taking it further with me. I bite my tongue to swallow down my sob as I shift my body on the bed. I just wanted to get this over with, already. My voice was weak as I pushed away my resounding thoughts to speak— knowingly digging myself into a deeper grave with every syllable uttered.

“...Please… Just tell me what to do next…”

“Hm? Is my little wife getting impatient? Does my helpless Koa need her husband's help to make her come?”

“...Se Eun…”

I was on the verge of begging him at this point; my vision blurring from my unshed tears. I choke out Se Eun's name painfully, my breathing growing heavier as more and more time passes. My head was swirling with a wide array of emotions— each more averse to the other.

“Fuuuuuuck, Koa. You're killing me here… I'll just keep falling for you if you say my name like that.”

I don't say anything more, my voice refusing to work anymore. I just hoped that Se Eun would stop his constant teasing and move on already.

In more ways than one.

“Drool on your pretty fingers, Koa.”

Se Eun's voice was laid back as I heard a lighter flick open. I follow his instruction, placing my index and middle finger in my mouth— swirling them around my tongue like how he always does. I gag slightly when my fingers accidentally slip into my throat, my tears immediately falling from the shock.

“Mmm… What should I do? My wife is too cute right now, I just want to knock her up already…”

My tears continue to fall as my entire body trembles in fear. Drool coats my fingers and lips— my eyelids fluttering as my heart continues to pound loudly in my ears. The distant moans on Se Eun's end of the call, only caused my body to grow embarrassingly warmer. I start to panic when Se Eun voices out his thoughts; an alarmed sob escaping from my chest.

“Oh? You don't like that idea? Choke on your fingers, Koa. I only listen to a good girl.”

I shakily push my fingers in deeper, gagging heavily from the intrusive sensation. I continue until my head turns lightheaded, until black dots appear in the corners of my vision. I choke on my fingers until I had to physically stop— coughing loudly from the sudden expansion of my lungs.

“Pft- Don't pass out on me now. I haven't even gotten off yet.”

“I-I-I’m sorry…”

“Hm? Are you sure about that? You don't sound very sorry, Koa. Didn't you promise me that you'll comply with my every desire if you could keep your virginity? What a shame, Koa… I thought you were smarter than this. Don't you know that a deal can only work if both sides keep their promises?”

My breath hitches at his words, my entire body trembling in fear. Se Eun's tone was so obviously condescending, my pride bruised from his off-handed comment. I swallow down my saliva before choking out his name.

“...Se Eun-”

“It's fine, though. I like you dumb. My adorable, clueless wife that only knows to spread her legs just for me! Ah, on that note— go ahead and press those fingers of yours into that darling cunt of yours. You want to keep your husband happy, right?”

I take a deep breath to brace myself for my fingers. A sob leaving me as my wet fingers breach my most intimate area. A strangled moan escaping from my lips, my internal temperature running feverish as I cried. I could hear a groan from the speaker, Se Eun jerking off to the sound of my cries. My fingers didn't stop, more of my fluids building up as the sounds in my room only advanced to being lewd. My fingers were completely slimy at this point— wet, suctioning noises no doubt reaching Se Eun's ears.

“Shit. You're already so wet for me… Go faster, Koa. I want to hear you scream.”

My fingers go faster at his words, almost to the point of being painful. A couple of whimpers leak through before I forcefully silence them. I bite onto my lower lip until it bleeds, the metallic taste grounding me to reality. My fingers coincidentally hit a spot that drove a loud moan out of me. My breathing quickens as I feel myself on the brink of release. My tongue lolled out as I started to see stars on the ceiling. My voice is slurred as I chase after my orgasm.

“I-I'm going to cum…”

Se Eun only curses on the phone, seemingly on the edge as well. I could hear the faint sound of a slick substance slapping against something. My mind otherwise clouded with pleasure and more pleasure. A groan snaps me out of my thoughts, my head suddenly clearing up— more sensitive and aware now of every thrust of my fingers.

“Fuck. Koa. I'm about to…”

“S-Se Eun…”

My body trembles as we both come loudly, my hips grinding against my fingers— riding out my high. My eyes were already glazed over when pulling my soaked fingers out. A sloppy, wet sound resonating within the room. I was breathless, my body currently too weak to move a single inch.

“Taste yourself, Koa. Describe it to me.”

I shakily press my fingers against my lips, lapping up at the slightly thick fluid. I was too tired to even be embarrassed by Se Eun's command. My intimate taste covers my lips like lip gloss— my tongue darting out to lick it off me. Without even thinking, the words just fall out of my mouth.

“...Thick. Slimy. …Watery.”

A hum is the only thing I could hear from Se Eun— or maybe it was more? I didn't know, my mind was too muddled to process everything. My breathing continues to be out of rhythm, exhausted both mentally and physically.

I didn't even realize that Se Eun already ended the call, my consciousness just drifting off into a dreamless sleep if I was lucky. Se Eun haunts my every waking moment, yet he managed to find his ways into my dreams as well.

It was my first year in Han Institute, I didn't know anybody yet— Ethan was already pulled away for his sports orientation. I had to navigate my own path to the academic office. The academy was so much larger in person, that I couldn't help but admire every piece of architecture and landscaping my eyes landed on. I was completely distracted, embarrassingly to the point of being lost. I felt relieved when I finally found a student walking in the hallways; my encroaching panic finally let up.

“Hello! Do you know where the office-”

“Tch- Go away. I don't associate myself with dirty whores like you.” My smile immediately drops at the student's words, my mood dampening at his bitterness. The insults were shocking, but I always stick to the golden memo! ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!’ Ethan was the one to teach me that when we were little, he calls it an old saying from his country! I apparently cried too much because of other people— too much so that Ethan got sick of my tears…

“...Ah… Okay…” Before I could even utter another word, the student walked past me. Purposefully knocking his shoulders into mine to send me against the wall. I held in my tears that were starting to well up in my eyes, it wouldn't be good if I cried at this time. Ethan might feel bad about leaving me alone if he sees that I cried because of a bad interaction. And I didn't want to see Ethan's guilty expression for something that was out of his control…

I decided to take a deep breath, and began my walk again— a bright smile plastered back onto my face. Maybe I'll be able to find a more helpful person this time?

♡♡♡

I met the student again at the sports center— I was out of class early; and I wanted to surprise Ethan with an afternoon together since it's been a while since I've had some free time! I already told Ethan what happened on my first day, and he told me to avoid that person if I ever saw them again. But I couldn't help but notice that he wasn't drinking any water; even after playing basketball on a hot afternoon! My maternal instincts immediately took over.

“Hi! You seemed thirsty!” I walked up to the student that was sitting on the bench, taking out a water bottle from my bag. I've grown used to having water bottles in my bag since Ethan was forgetful sometimes, too. I hold out the water bottle for the student to take. No matter how our first introductions played out, I wasn't going to ignore a dehydrated classmate!

“I'm not.” The student dully replies back, not bothering to look up from his phone. His attitude was slightly rude, but I wasn't swayed enough to go away yet. Especially since I could still hear the student's unsteady breathing— that could be easily fixed with some water in his system! My biology class taught me that!

“It's very hot today, though? Dehydration happens to everyone, you know?” I lightly chastise the student for not caring about his health; don't rich people want to live a long time? Ethan got severely dehydrated once, enough to need the hospital from passing out… That's why I started to carry water bottles on me, and I still couldn't get out of the habit. I place the bottle on the bench— maybe the student will take it once I'm gone?

“...Whatever.” I smile at the student happily once I get his reply. His head turned away from me, likely out of annoyance. His face was red, so he must have been out in the sun for far too long! I was grateful that I haven't kicked my habit of keeping water bottles on me yet. Who knows, maybe I'll gain a friend this way?

I walk away after waving to the student— I almost forgot about Ethan during our brief exchange! Ethan is going to be so happy once I tell him that I'm starting to make a friend! It was a bit pathetic in my eyes. Ethan had so many people around him, and I only had him… I hope that will change soon.

♡♡♡

My third meeting with the student was at the infirmary. Ethan kept on ending up here for some reason, so I decided to volunteer as an aid! There were only benefits to this choice: I got to speak with Ethan more, and I got more points on my college resume, too! The infirmary door slides open, and the greeting dies on my tongue when I see the student's bloodied knuckles.

“Huh- Why are your hands like this?!” I quickly rush up to the student, taking his hands into mine. I was too worried to notice that he didn't slap my hands away, keeping them there as I observed the torn skin. Fighting? In this school? How is that even possible?

“...Are you stalking me? How are you everywhere?” I freeze at the student's guarded tone, not understanding what he was being so defensive for. I snap out of that mindset, it isn't my place to ask that about him. I let go of his hands, a smile on my face as I walked over to the medicine cabinet.

“Nope! I'm just helping out the nurse!” I pipe up happily as I take out some gauze and ointment— making marks on what items I used, and for what I needed it for. I had to admit though, it was strange that I kept on running into the student. It's not like there's anything wrong with that, though! I could always use these times to bond with him!

“Hm… Then I need some bandages-”

“That's very obvious. Name?” I interrupted the student— taking out a binder that held the medical records of the student body. The binder was relatively thin since Han Institute was a private school. I flip it open as I wait for the student to tell me his name.

“Se. Se Eun.” Se Eun… What a nice name. I finally had the name of the student who I wanted to be friends with! I find his name, and place the marked sheet into his file before I start to tend to his wounds. I made sure to be as delicate as possible to not irritate the skin— the nurse was the one that taught me on how to correctly wrap wounds! I can't lie to myself, though… I learned first aid to have an excuse to touch Ethan, too…

Se Eun eventually leaves the infirmary to head off to class. I admired him for that— he could've just stayed in the infirmary since his hands were injured! I waved to him, and he waved back! I really was making progress! My happiness was cut short when Ethan stumbled to the infirmary a few minutes later, in a terrible state. What happened this time?!

♡♡♡ Ethan's POV ♡♡♡

“Koa?!”

I was running now, searching for any sign of her— already out of breath. My legs were screaming at me to take a break already, but I couldn't. Not after what I just heard. Was I that blind? Why didn't she say anything? Did I not seem reliable enough for her to lean on? To help her?

Koa… Am I not someone you trust?

…

I was walking with a group of friends— we were all laughing together about a shared story that happened during practice. One of them even managed to take a video of the coach's wig falling off in the midst of his meltdown! While we were walking, I suddenly overheard a conversation between another group of students who were walking in the opposite direction from us.

At first, I didn't pay them any mind— it was a different story when they suddenly mentioned Koa's name. As any best friend would do, I had to listen to them at this point. It was the right thing to do, after all. It was my sworn duty as a boy best friend to know what rumors were centering around my pretty, girl friend.

I haven't seen Koa in a while, too; she was always busy with something. I swear, one of these days; I’ll have to drag her out of the house to go to the park with me. We'd have a nice conversation together, -enjoying each other's company- feed the ducks with some old, stale bread from the back of the pantry, and maybe even have a picnic together like old times! She'd smile at me, -my index finger discreetly swiping along the rim of the bottle her pink lips touched- and I'd smile at her back. My finger, now stained with a sheer, pink tint. Flowers would adorn our heads as we pluck some stray ones out of the ground. And then… When the moment is right, I’d pull her in-

“Tch. How are people even attracted to Koa?”

Excuse me? I did not just hear what I just heard, right? Koa? Sweet, too clueless for her own good, Koa? Who wouldn't be attracted to her?! She's cute, adorable, pretty, smart… smart when it comes to her grades, anyway. Her little doodles are always so silly, enough to brighten anyone's day. No, I'm not at all biased towards my childhood— that I think about every day and night- Okay. Maybe… I may be just a teensy winsy teeny little biased towards the living goddess that's named Koa, but who wouldn't be?!

“How should I know? The bitch is so weak that a little push from me was enough for her to cry.”

“Pft- Be gentle with her. Everyone here knows that she's Se Eun's plaything. What if she decides to tattle on you?”

“What did I do wrong, though? I only reminded the whore of her place. She's worse than an animal, she shouldn't even be allowed to be in the same room as us.”

…What?

I turn back to my friends, my expression slightly dazed— why would anyone say that about Koa? They were still focused on the video, while I was still pondering on what those girls were saying. They were saying it so loudly, unworried about anyone overhearing their petty gossip. I pause in my steps, my friends eventually noticing my absence.

“Hey, man. Is something wrong? Why did you suddenly just stop?”

One of them, Min-woo, stops to question me. I wasn't sure why I stopped, as well. My mind suddenly invaded with unwelcome thoughts of Koa in less than desirable positions. For some reason, I felt the need to dig deeper into this. My gut was telling me that there was something wrong— that I was missing something very important right now.

“...What do you guys hear about Koa?”

“Who?”

My eyes widened at Min-woo's words, surprised by his confused expression. I thought I already introduced Koa to them? Did they already forget her? No… She was at our practice just a few days ago. …Right? She was there, smiling at me happily as I scored another goal in the practice round. She was there… then Se Eun suddenly arrived. I remembered being so distracted with how close they were to each other— unable to focus afterwards.

Koa's body seemed to be more stiff too; I almost threw the ball on the bastard's face in a flash of rage. I hated him, I've hated Se Eun since he was introduced to me by Koa. He was always too close to her, their bodies practically pressing together. Koa would shrink back from him, but Se Eun never seemed to get the message. He violates Koa's boundaries, boundaries that are there for a reason.

“Koa- …Who is this?” I was so happy when Koa told me that she would walk me home from practice. My eyes brighten up when I finally see her figure, ignoring my teammates’ snickers. Psh- They're just jealous that they don't have a pretty best friend to talk to. I stop in my rapid steps when I notice another person sitting with Koa by the shade.

My heart stung a bit when I saw how close they were, a bitter taste on my tongue. I was… I was jealous; fearful of my spot being taken. It's been a while since I've seen Koa, and she's already made a friend! Koa's been steadily changing from the crybaby she was when we were kids; she didn't need my protection anymore.

She's started to open up to more people— finally coming out of her welded shell. I'll admit that I may have been a bit hesitant on letting go of Koa at the very beginning, but I don't regret it. Koa deserves to be free; and it should be a well-known fact that she looks the most beautiful when she's able to soar.

“Ethan! Come meet my new friend!” Koa's pretty eyes sparkle when she notices me, a sweet blush on her cheeks. I shuffle my feet towards the duo… No. Not a duo, that's too much for my saintly, idealistic, holy mindset -that's been the one reason for why I haven't grabbed Koa for myself, yet- to handle! Although… The way my fists were clenched until my knuckles turned white from the grip… that was telling a different story.

“...” The bastard just stays on his phone, too, not even bothering to look up from it. Was this really supposed to be my competition?! The title of best friend was definitely going to stay mine— but the way he had his pinkie finger nearly poking at Koa's? Red filled my vision when I noticed his smug expression. If Koa wasn't here; I would've bitch slapped him, just for the sheer audacity.

“Haha- He doesn't like to talk much… Meet Se Eun!” Oh, Koa… innocent, naive, Koa. There was no way in hell that Se Eun was good news. How was I going to convince Koa to drop him? My resolve to tear her away from Se Eun immediately wavers when she smiles at me so cheerfully. She just looked so proud of herself… Who was I to break it?

“Oh, yes! And he wants to walk with us, too!”

…Motherfucker-

I take a deep breath— thinking that maybe, they just forgot her name. It happens sometimes! I, myself, have had my own fair share of forgotten names. I needed to constantly remind myself that Koa wasn't the center of everyone's universe; even if she definitely should be-

“Koa. The girl who's almost always at practice. You know: straight, black hair, pretty yellow eyes, always writing in a book-”

“Ah! You mean Puppy?”

I resist the urge to strangle Min-woo who had just called Koa by such a degrading name. Koa was definitely cuter than a puppy— but I didn't go around calling her that, now did I? I was about to correct him before one particular comment from another friend of mine, Jeong, caused me to completely lose it.

“I heard everyone wants a piece of that a-”

I didn't even let Jeong finish his sentence before I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt— slamming his back against the wall. I could hear shouts for me to let go of the perverted asshole as I raised him up. My teeth were grinding themselves, my eyes narrowing at him in anger. I could barely hear my teammates practically screaming in my ear; too caught up in my own rage to even think right now.

“Oi! Ethan! What the hell?!”

“Let go of Jeong, man! I think you're choking him right now!”

“We can talk about this, Ethan! You can't just throw hands like that!”

I continue to keep Jeong on his toes, furious for Koa's sake since I knew that she would just brush it off. No. Koa doesn't deserve to be disrespected like this— Koa shouldn't have to be listening to this kind of shit. Everyone wants a piece of her? What is she? Property? My girl friend was human; an individual person who has her own autonomy, her own life.

Koa belongs here, Koa has proven herself to be their equal, time and time again, through her achievements. But the way all of these people were talking about her… They made it sound like she was nothing but an ownerless stray— lessening her worth to being dirt-cheap. They spoke like she wasn't meant for anything more, when she's meant for everything.

“Say that again. I fucking dare you.”

I hiss at Jeong, my grip on his collar tightening to an unbelievable extent. The nerve to make such a derogatory, perverted comment— did Jeong never have a mother who taught him to be respectful to women? If not, then I would happily volunteer myself to be the one that beats the lesson into him. Until the memory is permanently scarred onto his pea-sized brain.

“S-say what? …What the hell- Is this about Puppy?! It's not just me who says that! It's not like we have a chance-”

“Explain.”

I let go of Jeong before he tells me about Koa's predicament— every single incident that I have somehow never noticed. The cruel pranks pulled on her, the physical harassment, the bullying… I stagger back from Jeong, my face paling when I think about what Koa had to suffer through, alone. My nails were digging into my palms; almost to the point of nearly piercing through the calloused skin. I couldn't believe it. What right did I have, to call myself her best friend, when I didn't even know about the torture she has to go through, everyday? I felt like a failure, like an idiot.

Koa… Why didn't you say anything..?

“There's also all that shit with Se-”

I didn't even hear his last words, my legs already moving to search for Koa. All I could think was that my helpless Koa -infamous for staying silent- stayed silent. My sweet Koa who always just smiled through everything, no matter how much it hurt— even if it started to bleed through her clothing, her pain, so obvious. Koa, who could never speak out for herself, unable to ever find the courage to ask for help. …Koa… the one I neglected because I blindly believed in her words. I believed my best friend, who is known to tell lies that only wound her.

…I’m such a fool in love.

“Koa?! Koa! Where the hell are you?!”

I ran through the hallways, not giving a single damn about the hall monitor's warnings about running indoors. I needed to see Koa; I needed to know, by how much, did I really fail her. …By how much I failed us.

Have I really been that detached from Koa? I remember a time when I would know her entire schedule by heart— never having to search this hard for even a glimpse of her hair. Only because we were practically attached to the hip; the both of us clinging onto each other, like a lifeline, during the most miserable time of our lives. Now… Now I can see just how far Koa has really drifted away from me. I can now see that we weren't as close as we were in the past. Koa was able to keep such secrets from me because I didn't pry, like before— because I didn't stay, like before.

“Koa!”

“...Ethan?”

My distress finally lifts when I hear her melodic voice; after everything that happened— it felt like it's been years since we've last seen each other. Since I've been able to talk to Koa, since I've been able to look at her. I breathe a sigh in relief, finally finding her after running all around the campus like a madman. I was sweating heavily, my breathing erratic as I greedily sucked in as much air as I physically could. My limbs felt like they were on fire at this point, but it was only through sheer will and adrenaline— that I was able to move myself closer to Koa.

“Koa! Thank God, I've heard about-”

…Oh.

So that's how it was… I freeze in my steps when I finally see Koa's current state, my eyes widening in horror at the sight. Koa was drenched, from head to toe in some kind of opaque liquid— it smelled like milk. The worst part wasn't that she smelled like milk now… No. The worst part was the way her shirt clung to her skin; the way her white blouse exposed her blemished skin to everyone. My heart twisted from the medley of wounds she had: green and purple bruises, dark red teeth marks… burns. Cigarette burns.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to punch the wall until my knuckles turned bloody. I wanted to hurt myself as if the act would take all of Koa's pain away. I wanted to throw up everything in my stomach when Koa only smiled at me— the same smile that I knew all too well, that held years of pain in it. The same smile that I both adore and hate, a plethora of memories filled it.

Don't smile. How can you even smile right now? You don't have to be strong, Koa. Just lean on me for once. …Please… I’m begging you. Don't smile at me when you're like this.

“Ethan… I thought you were busy today?”

I could listen to her voice for ages— I didn't even think that there was a single way for me to possibly get tired of her. Koa could be speaking to me in hieroglyphics, and I'd still nod along to anything she said. Koa was a precious person to me, but that's also why it hurts me more to see her so damaged. Koa was an untouchable being in my eyes; seemingly unstained from reality when she was just as tainted.

Appearing as a savior, and leaving as a martyr— that's the usual ending for someone with Koa's kindness. Sometimes… Sometimes I forget that she knows far more than she lets on. That she's seen, first-hand with me, just how much humanity tends to turn to sin in a hopeless situation.

“Koa…”

I croak out, my body trembling as I slowly walk up to Koa. I had to, both mentally and physically, stop myself from grabbing Koa by the shoulders. My tears welled up in my eyes, our eyes locked together— an inexplicable sorrow replacing what was left of my fading frustration. My heart was loudly pounding into my eardrums; I could clearly hear the blood flow cycling through my head.

“E-E-Ethan?!”

I could almost see Koa's panicked expression as I collapsed onto my knees; my head lowered in shame. Tears streamed down my face as I cried. Why was I so unaware? Would it have even made a difference if I knew about it? Was I that useless? I've been too confident— too sure of my ability to protect Koa, when I've already failed in the very thing I constantly boast about. What white knight? I was nothing more than a fool; a fool who was stupid enough to believe that he was worth something more— just because of some shiny medals he luckily won.

“Oh god- E-Ethan! What's wrong?! Are y-you hurt-?”

“Look at yourself first, Koa.”

I finally raise my head up, my red-rimmed eyes matching Koa's current ones. Ah… She's been crying again. I notice how she flinches at my comment, her head hanging low for some reason. Why? Was she ashamed?

No… Koa… Keep your head lifted up. Why is it lowered? You're not the one who needs to be humbled.

“...Ethan-”

“Can't you feel it? God, Koa. Some of these must have even bled-”

I couldn't even finish my words, my throat immediately stuck when I watched Koa starting to tear up. I watched as her eyes turned glassy once more— Koa just looked so fragile at the moment, like she was a vase that would shatter if it was dropped one last time. It was hard to imagine anyone handling Koa roughly; she was too delicate to be pushed around like that. And yet she suffered through so much more…

“Let me explain-”

“Who did this to you?”

I don't let Koa speak, I already knew what kind of excuses she would pull out of her ass. I've been with her, stayed by her side for long enough— to know about her self-sacrificing personality towards other people. I've scolded her, for this, countless times; I even yelled at her! Well… We were both eight at the time— but it still counts! Even if I never did it again after it took me literal hours to get Koa to stop crying; I swear, she can never run out of tears for some reason. She even made me cry with her because of the stress she put on my little eight-year-old brain!

Koa never seemed to learn her lesson: blindly trustful and kind to the people who shouldn't even be allowed to breathe in the same air as her. I bit so many ankles -when we were kids- because assholes have to exist— I was a feral child, growing up.

“W-what do you mean-”

“Koa... I'm begging you here. Y-you need help. It doesn't have to be from me, but fuck-! You have to tell someone.”

My words tasted bitter on my tongue, the thought of Koa going to someone else… That made me want to grind down on my teeth. I wanted Koa to look for me first if she's ever troubled by anything. I'd drop everything for her— whatever she wanted: a shoulder to cry on, a person who will listen to her as she vents, someone to tend to her injuries.

Heck‐! I'd still drop everything if she just wanted to sleep on my lap. Koa has been my priority for practically my whole, conscious life by now— and that part will never change.

I wasn't selfish, but I also wasn't selfless. Even if I hated it, I'd still let Koa go to someone else for help— but it didn't mean that I had to like it. My tears continued to fall as I slowly tugged on the hem of Koa's blazer. I'd hate it, but Koa would be safe, then. She'd be safe… just not with me.

Koa was just silent, I could tell that her mask was slipping. I needed her to be vulnerable with someone— anyone. Her tears have long since come out like mine; her entire body trembling as she collapses onto her knees as well. She hesitantly looked me in the eye, her next words making me snap.

“I'm fine-”

“Bullshit!”

“Ethan-”

“Look at yourself! You look like a mess!”

Koa was a mess— I could now see her wounds more closely, now that she was kneeling next to me. My stomach churned uncomfortably at what I painfully observed: hickeys littered across her neck and chest, purple marks around Koa's throat, -as if someone strangled her until she passed out- there were multiple, large green and purple regions on her stomach, and the sides of her torso— like she was kicked until she had to throw up. …Small, circular burns could be seen, too…

I even identified the current state of Koa's face: worn off foundation showed hints of a black eye slowly healing, her once pink lips, now a darker purple than usual, -smooth lips now cracked and ripped to practical shreds- and her tears washed away the concealer that carefully hid her eye bags.

My fingers curl into tight fists— Koa's been hurt like this? Why? Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't she come to me when she first got assaulted? When she first got strangled? When she first got burned? …Why didn't she say anything?

WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?!

“But-”

“How far did they go, Koa? Was it more than one person? For god's sake, Koa- Why won't you tell me anything?! Tell me so I can beat their ass for you! You can't possibly be trying to defend them right now-”

“Ethan!”

I get cut off by Koa; I get cut off by Koa yelling at me. She yelled at me. She yelled at me because I wanted to defend her honor, her pride. I want to help Koa… So why does she have to keep shutting me out?

…Why?

Koa doesn't say anything more, her tears saying enough to me. Koa didn't want me to do anything— she didn't want me to help. Koa… Koa didn't want me.

It took me a moment to realize my blood dripping onto the marble flooring. I didn't even care that we were in the middle of the hallways; I didn't care that everyone was watching us now. I cared about Koa, I could only think about Koa at the moment. My tears stained my cheeks as I begged her to tell me. A name, a place- Fuck! I would even take a hair color at this point!

“Koa- Please- Just tell me-”

“Koa.”

A voice interrupts me, a voice that was deeper than Koa's own choked-up one. It was a voice that I was painfully familiar with— the smug tone, the barely concealed malice in his words. Se Eun.

I was about to yell at him to leave, but then I noticed how Koa started acting. Her breathing turned irregular; her entire body, now trembling in fear… Him? It was him, then? It was Se Eun?! I knew that he was a terrible person from the start— only proven to be correct when he joined into the weekly beatings between me and the wannabe gangsters at this damn school. I should've said something to Koa, but she just looked so happy with him… Delighted with her first friend in this hellhole.

…Fuck. I'm a hypocrite.

“Se Eun!”

I scream out in anger, red flooding my vision. I reacted in the only way I could. I react violently, volatile to every single thing that Se Eun does: whether he moves a single inch closer, or he decides to spill his bullshit out. I get up from the floor, immediately grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. The monster only looks past me, staring at Koa instead. That only irritated me more— I wasn't going to let him hurt Koa any more than he already did. No. It won't happen again.

“You don't have the fucking right to look at her anymore.”

I hissed at him, roughly slamming Se Eun's back against the wall. A sick glee crashing over me before I stomped it out. No… This one was for Koa. This was about Koa's pride, not mine.

The bastard only winces in pain before his eyes finally meet mine. Those same, soulless pitch-black eyes causing my skin to crawl. Was this guy seriously the so-called ‘hottest’ person on campus right now? The people here must be blind if this creep show was considered to be popular. In my neighborhood, fuckers like him would end up in a ditch somewhere.

“Koa. Come here.”

My teeth just grind at Se Eun's audacity; he was acting as if nothing was happening. He ignored my words, yet he kept his eye-contact with me. The demon was taunting me, he was silently telling me that I didn't stand a chance against him. My fists only tighten around his collar, one wrong move away from punching the smirk off his disgusting face.

“Like hell she would-”

The words die on my tongue when I see that Koa did exactly that. I could only watch as Koa shakily stood up from the floor. I gaped when I saw Koa walking up to us, her body language clearly telling me that she didn't want to be doing this at all. Her face was paler than usual, her legs looked a step away from collapsing on themselves.

I let go of Se Eun's collar, turning my full attention towards Koa, I needed to know why. Why was she doing this? Was she getting threatened? Coerced? There was no way that any of this was voluntary, her glassy eyes showing off her reluctance.

I block Koa's way, standing between her and Se Eun— she looks at me with an expression that conveys nothing less than pure, unfiltered misery. I stare at her, my own eyes mirroring Koa's depressed ones. The beautiful sun-lit amber that I've grown used to, have all but turned into a dull, rusted copper. Beautiful… but in a gloomy statement— like it was something to be mourning.

I slowly made a move, -letting Koa see where my hands were, enough time for her to move back- grabbing at the sleeve of her blazer. My voice sounded pathetic at this point, but I didn't care. I just wanted to let Koa know that she didn't have to do this, that she will always have me by her side.

“Koa… Please don't…”

“Koa.”

Se Eun had to ruin the moment with his big mouth; his voice was basically demanding for Koa. It was disrespectful and humiliating, the way he called for her as if she were a dog. Was he the reason for Koa's nickname? I wouldn’t even be surprised at this point. My jaw clenches in annoyance, turning my head to glare at the nerve of this bitch. I tried to convince Koa again, but Se Eun seemed to scare her too much…

I had no chance.

Koa pulled her sleeve out of my loose grip— a part of me shattering beyond repair once I was gripping onto nothing but air. Koa goes around me; I didn't even have the energy to get angry when Se Eun's arm instantly wraps itself around her waist. Koa hates being touched, yet Se Eun never seemed to care… I wanted to beg Koa to stay, but Koa's next words kept my mouth tightly shut.

“...We'll talk later, Ethan.”

…She didn't even look back at me when she said it. Se Eun pulled her along with him, -far too roughly- but I didn't detect her head moving a single inch back in my direction. I was speechless, my hand dumbly reaching out for Koa, even if her figure was nowhere to be found.

Only one word was uttered— the name of the girl who's been by my side for ages. The girl that I love with my entire soul, and the girl that I don't deserve. My tears fall again, my palms still bloody as I continue to dig into the fresh wounds. My head was lowered in shame; shame that was well deserved for my ignorance— and for being too late.

“...Koa.”

♡♡♡ Se Eun's POV ♡♡♡

I wanted to scream when someone stopped Koa in the middle of the hallways. The piece of shit came up to my wife, confessing to her, while I was standing right there. I internally sneered at the disgustingly gaudy letter: obnoxious, golden hearts scattered throughout it, and a messy handwriting that, I was somehow able to determine, included Koa's name. The absolute gall of this dunce— writing my wife's blessed name in such a mediocre print? I'd destroy him; just because of such a defilement.

The bastard was fucking lucky that Koa rejected him, or else I wouldn't have hesitated to throw his cold, rotten body off a bridge. He did not deserve to receive the love of my life's gentle words, almost immediately shaking her head at his request. I wanted nothing more than to dig out the eyes that dared to gaze upon my wife's— those same eyes that tainted Koa with his filth.

The rat didn't even have the chance to convince Koa otherwise; not while I was angrily glaring from behind her. It was honestly annoying that such low-ranking scum had the fucking balls to believe that they had a chance with the angelic being that, fortunately, made her way into my dull life.

“Koa. Why did you reject him?” I asked her curiously once we continued in our walk— the vermin finally scurrying away at my silent threat. He obviously wouldn't be as good as me, but a guy like him is the typical dream for girls with Koa's status. So why would she refuse what may be her one chance to get out of poverty?

Koa only hums, her feet not stopping at all as her hands go behind her back. She turns to me, looking only at me for the moment. My breath embarrassingly hitching at her soft look— I blushed as if I didn't spend my free time, constantly in whores who would kneel at my command. I had to discreetly adjust my trousers when my love's back arched forward, cutely tilting her head to one side. I could be directly staring into a woman's bare pussy right now— and my lovely wife's present, endearing posture would still arouse me more.

I was infatuated with Koa… and I've long since realized that I wanted those bright, starry amber eyes to never stray away from being only mine. No matter who or what, tries to get in my way; I'll eliminate every other choice she has, until I'm the only option left. I didn't want to witness such a grotesque confession again, so I needed to start marking my territory…

“Why wouldn't I? I don't like him.” My wife's words snapped me out of my deliberations, I had to force myself to hold in a laugh. Pft- Only Koa would think so naively— did she not think about the benefits to using the deep pockets of that pest? My clueless wife really was too good for this world if that's what her answer was. …Ergo, I should make sure to lock her up real tight when the time comes.

The idea of Koa being only mine, it made me hot inside. A manic gleam flashing in my eyes, before it left as quickly as it came. I continued to muse at her innocent words, listening to her nonsensical rambling as we walked through the now empty corridors. My wife was just so lovely~

“Work harder, dog.”

I snap at Koa coldly, pulling onto the leather belt around her neck. My lack of mercy evokes a pained gasp from Koa— as her nose is pressed against my clothed groin. A shudder runs throughout my entire body, groaning while grinding onto her face. My head, thrown back as I drove her face into my trousers— the abrupt tug of Koa's makeshift collar causing her throat to strain against the leather.

I breathe out an annoyed sigh, my teeth still grinding at the memory of seeing her and that impoverished bastard together. It seems that I've grown lax due to her good behavior; Koa needed to remember who was really in charge here— because it certainly isn't her. I can only be so patient with a rebellious wife, after all.

Koa's lips part open, but not because she was finally putting that fucking mouth to use. No. She decided to open up her good-for-nothing mouth, to say a bitch-ass excuse, which would simply serve to irritate me further.

“I-I'm s-s-sorry, Se-”

“Don't. You already know what I want from you.”

I crudely interrupt Koa's pathetic stammering; her sniffles doing nothing but exciting me more. She only whimpered farther when I yanked onto my leather belt again. I could feel myself hardening already, painfully straining against the trousers’ fabric as Koa falls on top of it. I lean back from upon my seat as I spread my legs— waiting for my love to finally get to work. Koa's pretty lips were trembling as her hands fumbled with the zipper. It was fucking hilarious to see her so tense.

I grin at her pitiful attempts, my cheeks flushed at the sight of my wife kneeling in front of me. I had to chuckle as I pulled Koa towards me again— forcing her to fall face-first into my lap. I click my tongue at Koa, my voice adopting a mocking tone, while my hand reaches for her chin.

“Ah, ah, ah~ I don't think dogs use their paws…”

I coo at her as I force my lovely puppy to lean into me more— grabbing onto my love's face to pull her up higher. Her lovely tears start to fall again as I push my thumb into the corner of her mouth. My thumb lightly tapped against Koa's cute, little teeth as I mercilessly belittled her.

“Use your mouth, dog. Are you that dumb?”

My thumb swirls around her tongue; her tears dripping onto my fingers. I could only smile at my idiotic wife's adorable expression, wanting to kiss all her tears away— lapping up the salty liquid that stained her cheeks. Koa looked the most beautiful when she was below me, always within my grasp at all times.

My little pet whimpers as I take my thumb out of her mouth— smearing her drool all across her cheek. My cheeks weren't the only ones that were red at this point; the love of my life's cheeks were also bright with an alluring redness to them. They made me want to paint her rear in that same, beautiful color. Her songs of pain, music to my ears— pretty reds and purples blossomed on my precious wife's skin.

Our eyes lock together; my wife's glassy eyes taking a moment before dropping from mine. My smirk just grows as the scared puppy obediently lowers her head towards my trousers’ zipper. My wife's pretty knuckles were noticeably pale from clenching her fists far too tightly— adorably trembling in front of me so deliciously. I couldn't help myself at all. Is it that terrible to desire my sweet pet if her body intensely shakes that fucking much in my presence? As though I'm preparing to devour her entirety, bones and all?

A satisfied groan leaves me as I hear the clinking of my wife's teeth against the silver. Fuck, why did she have to be so adorable? The way she practically vibrated between my legs made me want to just bend her over and- …In summary, my wife was just too pretty to keep my hands to myself.

…

“Do you know what you did wrong now, my love~?”

My wife just moans as I rub myself against her wet folds; I could even slide myself in, without her even knowing, at this point. She kept on protesting against me, yet she always dripped down my fingers -like a fucking slut- whenever I played with her. I could only deduce -from her demeanor- that my lovely wife wanted this too— she was just too shy for her own good.

“Hic- I-I'm s-so-RRY!”

I slap her clit carelessly, reveling in the sound of her panicked breaths and hiccups that littered her sobs. My wife was such a darling, always having the ability to turn me on— no matter what type of shit she does. Yes… her tears really were cute. They always taste so addictively salty whenever I lap them up from my wife's cheeks; her body always tensing from what should be surprise. She really was too fucking cute for her own good. I couldn't wait until she would be only mine to talk to, to touch… to see.

“Hmm? Do you even know how you angered me?”

I grab onto a fistful of my wife's pretty hair, groaning with delight when I hear such pathetic whimpers coming from her. A chuckle leaves from me as her teary eyes meet mine; every bit of me wanting to see more and more of that pretty expression. My tone was cold, despite my face having an almost feverish temperature to it.

“...Who knows? Maybe you're just praying that I would be satisfied by those delectable lips of yours? Those same lips that do nothing but lie to their own master? You can be such a comedian sometimes, my love~ Did you really think that I, Se Eun, would be so desperate for you? Desperate to the point of wanting, no, craving your half-assed apologies?”

“N-no- I'm sorry- I-I'm so-”

“Then why are you sorry, Koa? Why don't you define what exactly you're fucking apologizing for?”

I lean my body closer to her, feeling her limbs twitch from underneath me. My wife was just lying on the desk: her skirt pulled up to her waist, blouse unbuttoned, underwear discarded, and her bra pushed up to reveal her modest breast. It was as if she wanted to be fucked by me with how cute she always acts. I moved my face nearer, until I could see how my pretty wife's eyelashes fluttered as she cried. My lips meet my wife's lips in a sweet manner— biting onto the soft flesh until I could taste bitter iron on my tongue.

My tongue shoves itself into my wife's cute mouth, our saliva mixing until it’s impossible to separate them from each other. Like how our taste melded together, I wanted Koa to be mixed into me— to the point of where she would be fucking nothing without me. As I recklessly bite, lick, and devour my wife's lips; certain thoughts start to swirl inside my head. Thoughts of wanting Koa to be only mine, only smiling at me, only looking at me.

Love me, Koa. You won't ever need anyone else but me. For my name is Se Eun, and I promise to always love you, both in this life and the next… Till not even death will do us part.

“I-I-”

I don't let Koa continue, wanting her mouth all to myself— nothing but my tongue to keep her company. I even felt jealous of the shitty words that were spoken into existence by her pretty, pink lips. I only watched as my wife's eyes flickered between: lust, fear, and confusion; swallowing her pitiful whimpers when I bite just a bit too hard.

“I-I… C-close to E-Ethan-”

A loud slap rings across the room; a bright red mark found on my wife's face for daring to utter another shitty man's name in front of her husband— her lover. My eyes, dark as I grabbed onto her face; not at all gentle in the manner, with how I jerked her chin up to me. Koa’s lips just twist into such an adorable grimace as I purposefully apply even more pressure onto her increasingly sore cheek— her tears only falling more because the bruise I aggravated.

“Did you have permission to say another man's name, dog?”

I hiss out in a frigid tone, keeping a tight grip on my wife's face. My breath quickened as I felt my anger slowly growing into a volatile storm— frustrated by the memory of seeing her and that motherfucker together. I only felt satisfaction when I saw her tears falling from the pain. There was no remorse coming from me; not a single hint of guilt found on my face while glaring at my wife's glossy eyes— only raw, unadulterated rage. How dare she? How dare she fucking talk to another person without my explicit permission?

My lovely wife… Let's play a little game together~

“N-no-”

“Then continue.”

“I-I talked to a-another person-”

“And who was this other person?”

My disobedient wife's lips snap shut at my question; her eyes widening once she finally realizes what her punishment will be. A smug smile appears on my face as a distressed expression appears on my wife's. Laughter builds up in my chest when she shakily reaches her hand up to my shirt— missing me by a few centimeters.

“P-please…”

Her voice takes on a desperate tone, doing nothing but making me want her more. What my wife thought would be enough to dissuade me… only served to increase my already excessive excitement. Really. She had to stop being so adorable all the fucking time— I'm honestly afraid of dying early with how insatiable I am when it comes down to my cute as fuck wife. I still had an overly-excessive grip on her pretty face— still close enough to have a clear idea of her current scent: a mixture between toasted cinnamon and a shitty confectionery sweet. It was a cheapass scent that I would only enjoy from my wife's pretty skin; skin that I have thoroughly marked as fucking mine, and only mine.

“Name.”

“S-Se Eun-”

“Name.”

“I-I-”

“Don't make me repeat myself a third time, dog.”

You love that name, right? Then I'll make sure to overwrite those “pure” memories of yours— till nothing but pain and sorrow remain… I'll ensure that you're never able to be comforted by the mention of HIS name again.

I'll hurt you so fucking badly with HIS name, because only my name should give you even the smallest bit of respite you desire. …I'll be your safe place, Koa; and the reason for it, too.

I watch as my wife silently sobs; her words a jumbled mess of what I can easily imagine to be pleadings for mercy. Mercy that I won't be giving her— mercy that she doesn't fucking deserve. I felt heated by the way she shook in my grip; every single inch of her making my mouth water.

“S-Se Eun…”

“I wasn't mad at myself, Koa.”

My dull eyes stay on my wife's face, unmoved by her tears— a smile, frozen on my lips. The dog finally stops whimpering when my grip eases from her chin. But her cries only get louder when my hand trails down to her neck; a warning squeeze, placed onto her throat to remind my pretty dog of her place now.

I could see the very moment when the fight eventually left my wife, her pretty eyes turning as dull as mine. Such a pretty copper suited her— far better than a cheap amber that held no value in the real world. My smile only widens at the sight as I start to squeeze onto my wife’s throat harder; I absolutely loved how she didn’t try to resist this time, too tired to do anything at all.

“Tell me, Koa.”

“...Ethan.”

The way she said the bastard’s name made me want to laugh right then and there— so hopeful, yet defeated at the same time. My grip on my wife’s cute throat starts to leave blue marks as the rhythm in her chest starts to stagger. I didn’t care if she couldn’t breathe, though; I knew when to stop before my wife passed out. We’ve had plenty of practice, after all.

I lean my lips closer to my wife’s ear, as I quietly whisper into her ear; my voice soft as if I was about to tell her a deeply guarded family secret. My other hand starts to lovingly stroke my wife’s cheek, like how a person would do to a dog— a cruel glint in my eyes. One hand was still busy choking her, while the other was being so gentle with her face; a drastic parallel that perfectly mirrored the love I had for my beautiful pet.

“What did I say about another man’s name coming out of your pretty mouth, again?”

OH MY GOD- THIS TOOK TOO LONG- (WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF??? TT)

THIS WILL BE A TEN CHAPTER SERIES THAT WILL BE POSTED INCONSISTENTLY. NOTE. INCONSISTENTLY. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK- I YEARN FOR ACKNOWLEDGWMENT AND COMMENTS. (don't be mean though. I cry easily.) (。･´д`･。)

Ack- I gotta tag now-

[blackest-soul]

Fool for Falling | S.R. x You

Working for BAU, for the last three years has been a blessing and a curse. On on hand, the financial stability of having a stable job (albeit, one that is mentally and physically exhausting) is something that you can finally enjoy--- but honestly, nursing a crush on one of your co-workers for three fucking years is starting to get on your nerves. You definitely need an outlet to contain your crush on Spencer Reid and song writing has been a huge help. Taylor Swift has been a huge help, especially with the release of Speak Now, the ultimate album for crushes. For hopeless crushes and confessions. You gave a huge sigh and your best friend, Penelope, rolled her chair over to your side and asked you how you are. “I’m fine, Pen. Just a little bit tired and stressed. It has been a hell of a week and I still need to play at the bar for extra income.” You answered. Ever since you have mistaken Penelope Garcia as someone like you, a Filipina, you two have been inseparable. She gets you like no one else, so giving out lengthy answers to her simple questions has (and will always be) the norm.

“It is a Friday, babe. Don’t you want to skip playing for tonight and hang out with us?” Penelope asked. “The team is planning to go out for some drinks tonight and I have it on good authority that our boy genius will also join us.” She added with a wink. I’m pretty sure everyone in the team knows of my crush on Spencer, except for him. He can be a little dumb sometimes.

“I kinda need the extra income for tonight, loves. Student debt and all. Plus, I kinda wanna attend the Filipino Film Festival tomorrow, so I want to have some money to splurge on.” You shrugged. You turned around and started packing your stuff, including your guitar and started walking towards the exit when Pen stopped you.

“Hey, what if we hang out at the bar tonight? I want to hear you play, Y/N. Pretty please. I promise we wont disturb you too much!” Pen excitedly whispered. Not gonna lie, you were a little bit scared and nervous. No one in the team has seen this side of you plus singing your songs, with Spencer watching you. Isn’t that a little too much of a cliche? Whatever, you are late and you kind of want to hang out with them afterwards, so this is definitely a win-win. Whatever, you need a release. Singing your songs to Spencer Reid might knock some sense into him. “Okay, Pen. You guys can come at Lola Amour’s tonight. I need to go ahead and prepare for my set but I will see you there.” You said and walked away. As the elevator doors closed, you heard Pen’s squeal and immediately gathered the whole team to go to the said bar ------ At Lola Amour’s

“Hey” You greeted to the bar owner. “I have some of my friends coming over, can I reserve that table over there. Near the stage, but not near enough to get on my nerves.” “Yeah sure. Anyone in particular coming over?” Pio, the owner and another singer, asked. “A crush.” “Damn, Y/N! This set is gonna be so awesome. You know how long I waited for this day to fucking happen.” Pio smiled as he prepared the stage for both of our sets. “How many songs are you planning to play for the good doctor?” He probed. “Three, maybe four? I want to play that song. The one we wrote together. Fallen. Join me on the stage?”

“Sure! Been a while since we played that song. Pretty sure you wrote that...6 months since you met him” “Shut up! I did not!!” I half-whispered, half shouted to him. You saw the team coming in and you started to panic a little. Pio, the good friend that he is, saw your face and immediately knew. He has seen you have crushes before, but this one, Dr. Spencer Reid, is different. He has heard of the songs this guy has inspired out of you and as a musician, he is so fucking excited to see Y/N sing her heart out. “They are here.” You whispered.

“I know. Let me finish this set up while you greet them. Be fast tho, show will start in 10 mins and you will open.” Pio answered. “Y/N!!!!” Pen shouted as you come over their table. “This place is so amazing! I’m so pissed that you kept such a nice bar to us” “I know! I am so sorry but I sort of wanted to keep this place and my side gig a secret from the team for a while” I said as I try to apologize to the team for not letting them in sooner. “Hey, no need for those puppy eyes now. You need to be ready for your set. I demand some entertainment, Y/N” Derek said. I chuckled and tried to fix my hair as I try to gauge, Spencer’s reaction over this. He keeps looking around, maybe trying to see a different side of the world? A world where there is no violence... only art. And secret feelings. “I hope you guys would enjoy my set. The songs are really special to me so please be kind.”  You reminded them as I am walking towards the stage. “Don’t worry so much, Y/N. You will do great. You are already so amazing at many things.” Spencer said as he waves at me. You definitely do not need to overthink that statement. Get a grip, girl. You gave an awkward smile and even a more awkward wave. Jesus. ------- Start of Y/N’s Set

With the bar packed and everyone is served with drinks, Pio motioned for you to come up the stage to start. “Hey, everyone. Been a while since we last jammed together.” You said as the crowd cheered. Pio gave you a thumbs, indicating that you can say whatever your spiel is and that he will wait for your signal. “I am so excited to share and play some of my songs again, for you guys. I remember writing these three in particular, as I was nursing a very very very serious crush on one of my officemates. Luckily, the FBI is a fucking huge place so no one will ever figure it out, huh.” You continued your story and watched the reactions of your teammates. Hotch and Rossi raised their eyebrows, while the troublesome foursome (JJ, Pen, Derek, and Emily) gave some really really funny (and rude) finger guns and pointed at Spencer. Luckily, the resident genius is too oblivious or fascinated or maybe shocked to notice. This might be his first gig so you can’t be so sure. “Anyway, for this particular song... hmmm. I wrote this during the first year that we met. I remember debating if I should say something...about this crush. But then again, I got a little bit nervous and a lot scared. Hence, this song is my what if scenario. Everyone, this is Fallen.” The crowd cheered so loud, Pio’s guitar can barely be heard. What if I told you that I've fallen And I like the way you say my name? My heart skips a beat when I hear you calling And I like that it won't go away But never mind, don't wanna give you any trouble Never mind, never mind I'm OK with being by your side for as long as I can hide What if I told you that I've fallen? You started singing, Pio and the rest of the band continued playing on. Clearly enjoying the way you blushed and stuttered through some of the lyrics. Finally it’s Pio’s turn to sing the verse. What if I told you that I've fallen? The heart-shaped arrow through my chest I'll make your breakfast every morning And pick you up when you're a mess But I know that it won't ever stop You know I'll be there when you call me whether you like it or not Without a warning, now I'm falling for this picture on my phone But don't mind me, I'm just falling, I'll be back up on my own As Pio sings the next verse, you tried to observe Spencer. This song is really for him and honestly, you want to see his reaction. But due to the glare of the spotlight, you really can’t see any of his expression. You continued to sing the following lines, hoping, praying that Spencer will finally have the idea. After all, you really have fallen Please don't say my name, help me put out this flame I'd rather hold onto this feeling that you don't even believe in What if I told you that I've fallen? The song crescendoed through the chorus and last verse. You see some of the crowds cheering and singing along. You played this song before but this time it is different. You are playing the song with your muse in front, listening. You looked at your team again and saw them smiling (Hotch and Em), clapping, some of them trying to mouth the lyrics back to you (Derek and Pen), and some of them dancing through the chorus (JJ and Rossi) but you are honestly, just interested in Spencer’s reaction. Is that a blush you see? Is he hiding his smile? You can only hope so. The song ended and everyone cheered. Everyone wanted more and you decided to continue hyping the crowd up. “Wow, such a lovely crowd for tonight. So much energy. Let’s keep this up!!! Our next song is a crowd favorite!!!” The crowed cheered really loud this time as they hear the beat of the drums. “This song was written when I had too much wine. Jesus. I drank so much wine because Mr. Office Crush decided to shock my poor heart by not combing his curls. You know how hard it is to not run my hand over his hair. Ladies, understand, right?” The crowd collectively cheered and agreed as I try to narrate the story of how this song came to be. It was at a pool party, at Rossi’s. Spencer’s hair is all over the place and I remember getting a lot of wine because of it. I remember being tipsy and dancing with him. I remember a lot of laughter and giving Spencer lipstick kisses as a dare. “You guys know this song!!! So please sing with me. This song is called, Fools.” you shouted and began singing.  

Anticipating, waiting for the thrill I'm captivated, I don't know how I feel I'm suffocating, you seem so unreal And I can't keep waiting, so I'll go for the kill then I shiver (You say my name) it feels like fever Now it's got me begging You can do whatever you want to Baby, I'm no fool 'Cause even angels have demons on their shoulders too The band’s energy can really be felt through their instruments and you are  so excited to hype up everyone by playing the guitar even loudly while you sing the next parts. This is you favorite verse and you cannot wait for Spence to hear it: Relieve the tension, dance with me skin to skin I've no intention, but I don't see no ring It's a temptation and I wanna give in So forget your reasons, God gave the right to sin then I shiver

(You say my name) it feels like fever Now it's got me begging

You can do whatever you want to Baby, I'm no fool 'Cause even angels have demons on their shoulders too And you can say whatever you want to Baby, I'm no fool I know you want me like I want you too “Everybody stand up and dance!!” you shouted to the mic. The band really came through as they extended the instrumentals of the song, while you energetically jumped and down the stage. Damn, this feels like your very own concert and you love the energy the crowd is bringing. You tried to look for Spencer but his stare shocked you. You have never seen him give you this heated stare before. You grabbed the mic and sang the following lines while directly staring at his eyes:

You can do whatever you want to. Baby, I'm no fool. I know you want me like I want you too. I finished the song. Licked my lips and sent a wink to Spencer. I hope he gets it now. ---- Done for now. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 or POV from Spencer!!!

[honeysuckle-venom]

I'm taking an online writing class over the next six weeks. It starts tomorrow (though it's asynchronous) and I'm very, very nervous. I have a deep desire to write, and someday hope to publish a memoir, because there aren't enough modern voices talking about schizophrenia recovery via talk therapy. But I also have a lot of hangups around writing. I used to write a lot as a kid, and everyone around me considered me a very talented writer. My mom was a professional writer and had always been very clear that she and I shared a "gift." She always kind of took credit for my writing ability, which is sort of funny considering that's one of her main complaints about her own mother. My mom talked a lot about how talented I was and how I would be an amazing author one day, and she put a lot of pressure on me to write. She had really high hopes that she and I would one day write a book together, in fact, and a few times tried to start doing that with me, though by the time I was old enough to start working with her like that I was also old enough to have significant problems with her that kept us from getting very far. My desire to write in my spare time decreased as I got older, I think due to a combination of pressure, burnout, and increasing self-consciousness. And while I did write some fanfiction and some poetry in college, and took and very much enjoyed a playwrighting class in my senior year, I mostly stopped writing creatively by the time I was 20. I haven't finished a short story in nearly ten years. I'm out of practice, and my skills are deeply rusty. But it's more than that. People commenting on my writing ability can be really triggering for me. It just brings up all this really complicated past stuff with my mom. My therapist has been urging me to write for a long time, and I have very mixed feelings about that, which she is aware of. Every time she tells me I have a way with words and should be writing I'm simultaneously proud and somewhat triggered. In the past I couldn't stand to hear her say that, it would send me into a panic attack. These days I can handle it and sometimes appreciate it, but it also causes a certain amount of anxiety and discomfort.

Deep down I agree with her. I've always preferred expressing myself verbally, and I used to be a good writer, and it is important for me to have a medium to express myself, and writing is probably the best choice. Getting back into creative writing would probably ultimately be very good for me, and that's why I've decided to try to do it. But I'm also very afraid that it's not just that I'm rusty, it's that I've completely lost the ability to write and will never be any good again, even though that's unlikely and writing is a skill you can practice. Irrational or not, the idea of having entirely lost the ability still scares me. And underneath that is a much more complicated fear, a twisting shameful resentful terrified tangle of feelings about my mother and our relationship and our similarities and our past and our future. I can't even fully explain what about the concept of writing is so triggering, but it just brings up all of these feelings and memories from the past in a way that's really difficult for me.

And I was prepared to deal with that and push through it and take this class, but when I signed up a few weeks ago I wasn't in nearly as precarious a place as I am now. I wasn't psychotic, I was feeling relatively stable. In fact I was stable enough to be bored and seek a class for some mental stimulation. But now I'm back in psychotic survival mode, and I'm really nervous about trying to deal with this class at the same time. It'll be okay, even if all of my homework sucks the only person who will see it will be the teacher and it's not like I'm working towards a degree or anything. I'm doing this to help rebuild a skillset and for "fun." I just have to remember that I guess.

[theyluvlyss]

It’s been a month already… 😭 well another check up! How have you been? 😊

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨...!! (tw: may be some touchy subjects/words in this for readers, so caution is advised. ig this doubles as a small rant/vent)

I'm gonna take this as an opportunity to fully apologize for my unexpected/unannounced hiatus. it's actually been a very rough set of months, and I really am trying to get past it. in short, I've lost some family, have been trying to set up a stable (and not mentally/emotionally draining💀✋🏽) environment for me to stay in and/or find a job, and possibly aim for a chance at getting back in school or learning to hone in on some skills that could up my advantages in getting myself ... unstuck, I guess you could say?

all in all,,, it's looking grim fr ngl💀.

but, it's not in my best interest to dwell on it. I can only take/deal with so much before I realize I need an escape or a recluse, and honestly, this account allows me to do that. with or without an audience, I continue to post/write because it's something I genuinely enjoy. I love being able to focus my attention on my special interests and while a lot of the times, my mental state or my outside struggles gets in the way of that, I still persist because without this one joy, this one thing no one can take from me,,, idk I might as well not be here lmao.

I don't mean to rant/vent any further, but for those asking (ty, lovely anon, for checking in♡), I'd thought I'd shed a little light on my situation, and I truly encourage everyone who sees this to be kind when give the opportunity.

you never know what someone else is going through, what's actually going through their heads, what they're contemplating, and what they're dealing with. if you can't do it because you just want to be a decent human being and want to make someone's day, at least do it because you don't want to be the cause of something tragic that's undoable :/.

with that being said, if you feel there's no one on this earth who doesn't love you, it must mean I've died because I love you. as long as I'm here, you will always have someone you can chat/vent/rant to, make friends with, and search for whatever support you need :). I am here for you, even as just one person♡.

~ lyssa💞

*ahem* anyways back to my fanfic author fangirl shifter autism adhd induced bullshit😻‼️... (which reminds me, I really am going to try to repost stuff more often and post other things than just writing, idk why I'm so bad at that💀).

[viktortittiforov]

don't mind me i'm just venting about completely unimportant fandom stuff below lol

EXHALES i refuse to start beef about this bc people can do whatever they want but fanfic where one character in a pair experiences every struggle imaginable (mental or otherwise) while the other character seemingly has no struggles at all, is perfectly confident and mentally stable, never shows weakness/vulnerability and is always emotionally available to support the suffering character is..... really something lol.... especially when (because it often is the case) the pair also has an inflexible top/bottom sexual dynamic and the bottom character is the suffering one :") like i'm not gonna go around like a missionary and tell people to stop writing this, whatever they're just having fun but it's just so incredibly one-dimensional.........

also this is only tangentially related and the same applies re: i'm not going to actually beef with anyone about this (hence why i'm writing about this on my blog and not tagging it as anything) but i am so tired of long-haired vitya and/or genderfluid vitya fics often also being bottom vitya fics (with no versatility acknowledged)........ none of these hcs/preferences are wrong on their own but when you see several fanfics by different authors having this specific combo it does start seeming quite Conspicuously Gendered (as in, it begins to seem as if in the minds of those writers a more culturally "feminine" appearance or a gender id that's somewhat feminine-leaning correlates with or even indicates(???) a sexual preference that is culturally also seen as the more "feminine" one)

idk sry lmfao i needed to write somewhere about this bcs especially in the 2nd case it is kinda personal lol as i'm a femme presenting AFAB nonbinary person who is tired of people presuming shit based on the way i look

[evelhak]

30 Days of Autism Acceptance 2023

April 9

Did an interest ever turn into an "obsession" for you? If not, do you regularly experience hyperfocus when you engage in your special interest? If nothing applies, tell us about your longest interest, no matter if it's a special interest or not!

This is a day late, because I looked at it and felt like it was going to be too long and I was too tired. But I still want to answer it.

I'm not sure what counts as obsession, honestly. I just know intense, long term interests were one of the things that alerted me that I might be autistic, the most. I always felt that my "obsessions" were too important to me, compared to most other people. They were always as essential to me as air, my mental and physical health suffered every time I didn't have enough time for my interests. It's just not possible for me to live without them.

However, I don't really relate to how "obsession" is usually seen, because on an emotional level I'm not someone whose inner fire is easily sparked to the max and then burns at that maximum until it runs out. That rarely happens to me, I'm too emotionally stable I think. It's more like, I just knew when I was 5 that I wanted to be an author, that nothing else made sense, and then I just never ran out of fuel for writing. (I became a published author at 28.) Writing is definitely a special interest, I view everything through it, I wouldn't know who I was without it, and there's no point to anything without it really. So I guess it's an obsession? Nothing brings me as much personal satisfaction.

I also pretty much live in hyperfocus when I'm alone with my interests. Writing, art, reading, ballet, personality theories... There's more but those are the biggest. It's very difficult for me to do more than one thing during a day when I get to focus because I go so deep. It doesn't really happen when I have to interact with other people though. But when I'm alone it's too easy to just write for 10 hours without eating or going to the bathroom. I have become better at handling these things by making sure I'm not isolated for too long. When I didn't, I would sometimes write for 30 hours nearly without a break... I'm also a better writer these days, so I can write without hyperfocus. I think that's just becoming a professional. Maybe I won't write a novel in three weeks then, but I can also just write for three hours, let someone distract me, and do something else for the rest of the day, even though it's difficult and painful sometimes. I try to balance the need to hyperfocus and the need to do other things the best I can. Sometimes it still means I will do little else than write or draw for a week, when that is necessary.

If you follow me you probably know that KnB is one of my special interests too, but it's also kind of like a sub special interest that goes under writing, because it's the writing fanfiction part that I really care about the most. I think it can be called an obsession as well. I've been writing the same story for six years now and I have no intention of stopping. It is on par with my longest original story in dedication but it's actually longer in wordcount. Part of the reason is because it's way more unedited than my original stuff, because I have no pressure when I write fic the same way that I do with my original stuff. That's really refreshing and why fanfiction also unleashes my creativity and I learn so much through it.

I recognise that there are problems that can come from obsessions and too much hyperfocus, and I have experienced some, but even so, special interests are definitely the most positive part of autism for me personally.

[aro-aizawa]

on one hand, i love my writing style because for me, one of my favourite things about the fictional world is in the details. if canon brushes over how a character’s armor protects and aides the specifically, you bet im gonna go all out the second i can feesibly manage it.

but on the other hand, it means that my writing progresses so slowly. and i usually run out of steam for that specific project by the time i head into the end of the first short arc. but i can’t just. stop w the details bc then what’s the point of writing it? i might as well just write the planning for it and move on.

one day im gonna find a balance and that’ll be the day that it’s over for ppl in my fandoms. the work i’ll post then would blow you away.

[ladylynse]

I'm sorry, I would like your opinion on this topic. The physiology of a phantom Halfa or Half In most of the DP stories, very little information is given about what a Halfa is and the most that is usually pointed out is that they are humans with a phantom core inside them, but after that they also tend to forget to mention that the molecular and atoms in Danny's body they were altered by the ecto-plasma and in the last case it was only stated that a Halfa is a human with ghost powers but only when they are in their ghostly form but they leave aside that it is mentioned that the Halfas are hybrids Phantom humans are beings trapped between non-life and non-death, too dead to be alive and too dead to be alive, that's why I try to propose what the physiology of these beings known as Halfas would be like, how is it that their molecules / atoms mutated after the exposure to echo-plasma, how its vital / mental / psychic energies react to ecto-plasmatic or spectral energies, how is the core nourished by the energies of the body and how it nourishes and mutates to it in a facfiction called A Different Kind of Phantom By: Dr. ForgottenFables which is a crossover between Danny Phantom + MÄR in which it was mentioned that the infection caused by the ecto-plasma when it spreads in the body does not always create a nucleus and when this does not happen the person ends up dying without becoming a Halfa I try to propose a concept in which, while the ecto-energy spreads through the body, it mutates and destroys and recreates various tissues at a physical / mental / spiritual level, creating something similar to a new nervous system that would be in charge of filtering in a way stable spectral energy or ecto-energy in the body of the Halfa

I would like your opinion and advice to be able to propose how these changes would occur within the body of the Halfas

No need to apologize!

You have a lot of freedom when it comes to stuff not explained in canon, so it depends on how much research you want to do and how much you want to mimic actual science before diving completely into pseudoscience. There's no right or wrong answer because the crumbs canon gives are so vague they can be interpreted multiple ways--and you're always free to ignore canon and come up with better explanations, since canon is sometimes contradictory, too.

I haven't read the crossover you're referring to since I don't know the other fandom, so I'm not sure how much the author got into it beyond what you told me. I know from my own writing that I'm not going to bother with any particulars unless I'm writing about it being 1) actively discovered or 2) actively discussed. If that's not a major plot point of your story, it's easy to get bogged down by details that aren't necessary, which could detract from your actual plot if this isn't plot. And if the halfa in question is Danny when he's still in high school, he probably doesn't have the knowledge to figure all of this out on his own, so it's unlikely to come up unless it's a main plot point.

It sounds like the fanfic you mentioned was treating the ectoplasm as a virus that is actively causing Danny's DNA to mutate rather than a one-time induced mutation that you get through stuff like chemically/radioactively/etc-induced mutagenesis. (I might be wrong, but the point is that there are different ways to look at it, so it doesn't necessarily matter.) Maybe the constant mutation is used as an explanation for Danny developing multiple powers over time. Maybe that's explained by repeated exposure. Maybe it's not explained at all. I am assuming that nucleus is being used as a term for the ghost core, though. (That's apparently a one-off line in the series but honestly I couldn't tell you from where; it's been a while since I've watched through the series.) You can run with the idea or not; most of what you'll find in fic is fanon as people build on the idea in their own way.

It also sounds like you want to take an approach where the ectoplasm is actively replacing Danny's DNA (as opposed to just 'coating' it as seen in the opening theme)? If you want to do a bit of research on how viruses replicate, you could consider mimicking that. They essentially get the body's existing replication system to do what they want it to do--print up a lot of instructions to make the structures they want so they can spread--and you could lean into that.

If you want ectoplasm to straight up replace some of the DNA--which it could very easily do if it interferes during mitosis--it would just need to mould itself into the opposing base pair shape (I'm trying to speak generally here) and actively insert itself into the genome at that point. Or it can straight up interfere with transcription when the RNA is supposed to be copying the DNA, or translation when the proteins are being assembled, or splice itself into the existing DNA without pretending to be anything other than what it is. It could trigger programmed cell death when it's ready to go about killing off existing tissue to replace with the tissue manufactured in ways it wants. (It could do this by influencing gene expression, turning things on or off with in the existing human genome.)

And since Vlad got so terribly ill that he ended up in the hospital? It could target the immune system so the body can't fight it off and stop it from doing all of this. We don't know that Danny wasn't sick for a while; we only know he wasn't as sick as Vlad and that he didn't have ecto-acne, and we can guess that if he was sick, he hid it from his family so they didn't react like they did when the ecto-acne came back.

This really only addresses the physical changes; I don't have enough passing knowledge to address how neural pathways work but hey, you can look up electroshock therapy and people who are struck by lightning. (I did the latter once but don't remember enough to talk about it.) It's not like the brain has never rewired itself after some trauma with some noticeable changes (if nothing else, look up Phineas Gage). But if you do go the virus-like route with ectoplasm, it's worth looking up diseases that affect the brain, too (say, rabies or Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease or chronic wasting disease or that zombie ant fungus (I promise googling it will bring it up)), if you want to get into nitty gritty details, because that'll give you a better idea of how stuff actually works. I mean, hey, looking up radiation poisoning or something might help if you want to assume that Danny got exposed to more than just electricity and ectoplasm.

[quickspinner]

sorry if i sound desperate. i really love reading all your work, your characterization is probably my favorite by far. i was wondering if you were going to do a WIP report soon?

Aww thank you friend! Unfortunately all I have as far as a WIP report is that my kids start school soon so our schedule will by necessity be more stable. 😂 I have nothing to offer at the moment but hope.

So far this year we've had medical emergencies, medical not-emergencies that we're still difficult and time consuming to deal with, family vacations that didn't go according to plan, sickness after sickness (can I please be done with colds for the year please please please of course not I have a kid in preschool), and I've been dreading these first three weeks of August for months for all the exhausting, difficult, and emotionally draining stuff we have going on.

But we're almost through it! Just one more week and things should (please please please) even out. I can't promise an immediate burst of activity, but I am planning to try and wrench back some time and focus for my own mental and physical well being, including writing. It just might take a little recharge time before I get there. The next chapter of Indelible has all the bones and just needs the bits that glue everything together, and the chapter after that has been written for a long time and will mostly only need editing to bring it in line with the current story. I don't want to jinx anything so I'm not making any promises, but there is hope. I'm focusing on Indelible and when it's finished I plan to go hard on Guard My Heart. I want to focus on finishing the stories that are published, especially the ones that are gifts for other people, first and foremost. Some of them have been super patient and I really want to deliver.

A sprint fic or prompt fic might pop up here and there as I work to get the wheels turning again. At the risk of sounding like I'm hunting for praise, getting comments really helps! I haven't had a chance to answer my last set yet but it really does cheer up a day even when people leave simple comments to say they are re-reading a work or something like that. It doesn't give me more time in the day (man wouldn't that be awesome) but it does remind me how much I love what I do.

I wish I had something more concrete to say but 2022 is determined to kick my ass so I am giving up making predictions and promises, but I hope alongside you that all the stuff I've been dealing with this month will result in significantly reduced stress and more free time down the road, and that it won't be too far down the road. Don't despair!

In the meantime if you haven't already done so, you can check out my AO3 bookmarks for other authors I love that you might enjoy!

To you and all my readers, thanks for sticking with me through the rough patches and tough times, I appreciate all of you! 💜

[47crayons]

THE WICKED WITHIN—A COMIC SANS WIP REINTRO

!!!!! it's here :D the wip that started to consume me and has been continuing to do so since, now with a much better sense of what exactly is Happening

current tww taglist let me know to be +/- !! @a-completely-normal-writer @writing-is-a-martial-art @wannabeauthorzofija @magic-is-something-we-create @croctears @writeblrfantasy @opes-magnas @author-a-holmes @zoya-writes@fuyugomori @ink-fireplace-coffee

transcript is under the cut!!!

[transcript: a powerpoint presentation of black text on white background, written entirely in comic sans.

start slide one the top left corner reads in red, "warnings (most relevant) war, death, drugs (& addiction), poison". in the center, "the wicked within", and underneath it in smaller font, "a comic sans reintro by @47crayons". the comments around the entire slide read "a family that is so found!!!", "gang rivalry :D and gang content in general", "crime found family basically", "childhood friends to STILL FRIENDS", "all queer cast :p", "eat the rich (not quite, but it’s the right sentiment aldskjfls)", "kickass women, yeah bay bee", "nuanced relationships between different groups :D", "morally grey characters!!!", "so many different governments!!!", "a (mostly alsjflksdj) stable relationship!!!" end slide one

start slide two in the beginning of time… there were four gods: eltenjer, he/him, earth; skari, he/him, fire; aenged, they/them, air; thilda, she/her, water. i didn’t /mean/ for them to have genders, but a quiet breeze whispered “psst. i use they/them.” in the beginning? so you mean… they’re not there anymore? kind of! the gods need followers to survive, and after several unfortunate events, they lost the majority of their followers. the aforementioned unfortunate events: the great ruination, in which natural disasters caused several years of famine and other hardship. the restoration era, in which renovation led people to believe they can live without the gods. if the gods are dead, what’s the point? the gods aren’t /really/ dead, closer to dormant. they can’t actively interact with the mortal realm, but IF they had followers, they would come back to life. oh. did i mention that they control the magic. end slide two

start slide three the dormant gods who can't do... anything control the magic??? hey, no one said magic always has to work. foreshadowing alert huge foreshadowing alert. let’s talk about how magic works, shall we :D people use the Spirit to do magic. people have a Vessel (representation of stamina or how much Sprit can be used at once, can be trained!). people also have a Strength (a type of magic that works well with the user, these have varying frequencies which also depends on location). there’s too much i could say here, but the important thing is the main characters’ Strengths. the right depicts an image of a flowchart showing that gods need followers and produce sprit. people need spirit to do magic. end slide three

start slide four okay but where are we??? where could the magic be so fucked? well, here, of course! the left side shows a line art map, split into five parts going clockwise: portingdale, worchester, the hooks, elderwood, unlabeled. the legend shows that there are mountains in portingdale, forests in elderwood, and rivers that run from portingdale to everywhere else. the place where the four labeled regions meet is called the Inner City. the text on the right reads. welcome to Kjer! there are 3 districts. but wait! there are five? sections? and one isn’t even labelled. worchester used to be a district,,, but it left after the war began. the unlabeled section is the disputed region (re: war). let’s talk more about this war. elderwood wanted easier access to water (see: the rivers in the Wetlands) elderwood & portingdale have been fighting there on and off for over half a century. the hooks has three wards: west (hella rich), south (lower income), north (somewhere in between). end slide four

start slide five whomst. skip to the next slide if you want the actual characters. character basics: the unnecessarily-winded-and-cram-a-lot-of-lore-in version. in the North Ward of The Hooks, there are three main gangs. Kaer Styen, meaning “wicked ones”, Ghetfaer Skarnen, meaning “trickster lords”, Ad Knesten, meaning “the grumbles”. that was so many capital letters i don’t like capital letters alskjdflksjd. they have rivalries and conflicts from time to time, but it’s pretty rare. the tww cast is kaer styen !!! their main means of profit is a drug called jezdin. relieves physical and mental pain. lethal in high. quantities/ when tampered with. can also be addictive. they operate out of a dingy tavern-like building, and they live upstairs!!! okay so this is purely for vibes. how did u know. end slide five

start slide six the Gang. literally :3 Kaer Styen, my beloved. the first thing in each of their bios is their Strength (re: the magic slide). artbreeders!!! i fixed quite a few of them, but my artbreeder skills are questionable at best. this slide is split into three columns. the first column shows a white person with short, brown, curly hair and a firm, but not angry, facial expression. len, he/him, pan. Shifter (can manipulate physical properties). cynical, very cynical (because he has killer instincts). “oh people are dying? am i dying? are you dying? why should i care?” in a relationship with cal. the second column shows a person who appears east asian with long, black, wavy hair and fair skin. chloe, she/her, aroace. Chemist (chemistry but magical). literal archery god. also she’s so quiet it’s SCARY. seems welcoming, emphasis on /seems/ she’ll destroy your ass. knows what you’re feeling. she just. knows. the third column shows a white person with dirty blonde hair. they are smiling. cal, they/them, bi. Whisperer (can persuade others through speech/music). so casually funny all your burdens disappear for a hot minute. gets very attached very deeply. grew up in Portingdale which becomes Important later. end slide six

start slide seven cont. also they have piercings!!!! maybe i will make some picrews later (listen, i KNOW i’ve said this before but. maybe i’m for realsies this time, okay?) this slide is also split into three columns. the first a smiling white female with light blonde hair. eden, she/her?, demi lesbian. Healer (healing magic <3). seen hell and doesn’t want others to suffer. still believes in the gods’ existence. we Don’t talk about her awful parents. raised by a lovely woman in the South Ward, known as Nana. this eye (left) is almost PURPLE which i didn’t do on purpose but is honestly such a cool idea. the second column shows a partially smiling black man with short curly hair. jereth, he/him, gay. powerful life magic thing (will be spoilers if i talk any more). joins them at the beginning. honestly kind of scared of them (who wouldn’t be), but wants to live up to expectations. throws himself into stuff to avoid Thoughts. the third column shows a woman with brown skin, black wavy hair, and a small smile. she is NOT a member of Kaer Styen, but i’m talking about her here all the same. adalaide, she/her, bi (i didn’t like the e in adelaide alskdfjlsj). Melder (metals and the like). heir to the Portingdale throne (assuming her dad doesn’t disown her). Cal’s ex from a few~ years ago she’s still a lil’ hung up on them. technically an antagonist but i love her. so all my characters are queer sue me </3 end slide seven

start slide eight some semblance of plot? coming right up!! the four (jereth isn’t there yet!) are attacked in the Inner City. turns out it’s portingdale soldiers. and then they discover that portingdale has been poisoning the southern rivers (affects worchester and the south ward) because worchester doesn’t really contribute to Kjer as a whole. word gets out, and elderwood, naturally, is even angrier at portingdale (remember, they've been at war). so, they try to stop portingdale from being power hungry enough to poison the entirety of a country while learning about why worchester is so isolated while ALSO trying not to get killed by everyone who hates them. end slide eight

start slide nine memes :> the first is the meme of spongebob reading a sheet of paper and burning it. the paper reads, "going into worchester by yourself is going to get you KILLED", and spongebob is labelled "chloe". the second is the levels of brain template labelled "jereth". from the weakest to most powerful: "trying to figure out his magic", "doing it by accident", "saving everyone's lives". the third is the sleeping person and brain meme. brain: "you're going to portingdale". cal: yeah, i know. brain: you'll see adalaide. cal's eyes are wide open in fear. the fourth says "corporate needs you to find the difference between this image and this image". the first image says, "family", and the second one says, "len, chloe, cal, jereth." eden says, "they're the same picture". the fifth is the spiderman copycat meme where jereth is copying len. end slide nine

/end transcript]

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 17/?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name.

So, when I started this, I didn’t expect it to become what it is, or for it to really be taken seriously. I wrote it because I wanted to get better at storytelling, and now I’m averaging 20 notes a day. That’s insane to me.

Warnings: Eludes to sex, mentions of trauma, mentions of court system, victim blaming, mentions of injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Waking up next to Jason was becoming something of a routine for Y/N. It had been 4 days in a row that she woke up next to him or with him in arm’s reach. She loved that about their relationship, how quickly they both could fall asleep with each other.

She rolled over in her bed and realized Jason was sweating and clutching the sheets. She leant over him slightly and turned on the fan, hoping he would sweat less so he could be in less pain.

She didn’t know what would actually stop the pain, she didn’t actually know if he was in pain. She reached out to stroke his back, just trying to comfort him, it seemed to work. He didn’t exactly reject her advances to rub his back. But he did jump a bit when she touched him.

She didn’t want him to be hurt by her touching him, so she did attempt to wake him up. He didn’t answer her though, so she got up from her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked rough like she had been crying all night about the trial. Makeup running, eyes puffy, bloodshot. But what else did she expect after that trial? She didn’t remember anything.

She decided to shower, in her own shower. It had been 3 days since she last showered, which was okay but it wasn’t something she was used to.

She got into her shower and just thought. She was fucked up. She had been fucked up this entire time, she had hidden secrets from Jason, from everyone. She thought it was selfish, immature, and irresponsible that she did that. But she also didn't know how to talk to them all. 

How do I even start that conversation? Hey, I’m fucked up, help me. I’m sorry, I messed up, she thought, I can’t do that, I can’t.

She got out of the shower and glanced at the clock like she would normally, it was 4:00am. That’s new, she thought, I didn’t know it was this early, maybe I should not have showered.

She smiled to herself a bit and took care of her face, doing a facial routine, just trying to calm herself and come off that high she was on for the majority of the day before. She knew she had to take care of herself to help her become stable again.

She knew what she did yesterday was linked to trauma, she just knew it. She didn’t know what it was, or how to combat it. But she knew she would probably not be mentally capable of watching the rest of the trial, and that was okay with her, she didn’t want to watch the rest of the trial. She would ignore her professor if he asked her to write anything about the trial. She knew he likely couldn’t because of her connections, but she wasn’t going to get mad at him.

She didn’t want to get mad at anyone for this. Opinions about the trial, asking her to talk about it, anything, she didn’t want to hate.

Jason was still asleep when she reentered her room. She smiled at him, wishing he was awake with her at that moment. She went to her notes at her desk and sighed, she guessed she would sit down and do some work. She pulled out her journal and wrote;

To each member of my family, somehow we reached here,

I’ve ended up with people wanting to hurt me,

Here we see the pain of there,

Maybe three.

I guess I can’t write poetry,

Maybe it’s all I see,

The pain, the torture, the people who hurt,

What am I doing?

She scribbled down a dying rose. She didn’t know why she did all of that. Normally she didn’t feel like that. Poetry was a good way to get all of the emotions out. Her journal had a lot, a lot, of insane writings and drawings of things she felt.

She guessed she was fucked up. But she thought the things wrong with her would make her art better. She needed therapy, probably. She was going to look into that, she decided in those moments. Therapy may help her cope with a lot of the stuff that she dealt with.

Or was she aware that she’d never be fixed?

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

She sat at her desk after making a quick coffee. It was still only 5:00am, and she was organizing her notes, just thinking. Maybe she’d paint something. Maybe she’d get a picture of the Wayne Manor Gardens and paint it. She just wanted something to fiddle with if she was going to be harassed if she left the house. She probably wasn't going to be able to leave the house for a while.

She was fine with that, she didn’t like it but she didn’t hate it either. She just wished for the trial to be over, even if the man was found not guilty of the charges.

And the longer the painting project, the longer she could spend locked away from the media. That was just all that she wanted, to walk away from the media while still keeping Jason.

He was still sleeping. She didn’t notice because she was so entranced in her own art, but he was struggling at that moment.

And then she noticed.

She got up and went to her bed and sat beside his head on the floor. She stroked his hair and tried to comfort him when he woke up.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“You alright?” she asked.

He turned his back to her, so she stroked it.

“It’s okay if you’re not alright, baby,” she said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She crawled into bed with him and became the big spoon for a bit. She didn’t say anything to him, he didn’t say anything to her. He was sticky and sweaty, but she didn’t care.

Silence was killing for most people, but she sat through it and allowed him to be quiet. 

She wished for the stories behind his scars, but she didn’t want to push for them. They hadn’t been together for long enough for her to ask about it. But she loved to trace his scars with her fingers, just letting him know she knew about them. She didn’t know how he felt about it. But she tried to be kind and loving towards his scars.

Some were small holes. Some were small lines. Some were long lines. One was Y-Shaped on his chest. One existed on his cheek and she couldn’t make out what it was. 

She didn’t think that he was lesser because of his scars. He thought he was lesser for his scars.

“Hey, Jay. Do you want to eat breakfast? It’s 6:00am, we can dip to get food?” she asked, trying to make him feel better.

“If you don’t mention the nightmares, sure.”

“I won’t.”

He rolled over to her and smiled before kissing her.

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

They got up a couple hours later, clothes strewn across her room, boxers and pants torn. She laughed, hoping he would still have clothes to wear.

“Don’t laugh, I might have nothing to wear!”

“I hope you have something to wear, babe.”

“And what if I don’t? We were pretty messy.”

“We were, but still. If you have nothing we’re kind of fucked,” she said, glaring.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Just stop staring at me like that! It takes two to tango!”

“The forbidden horizontal tango,” she said between laughs.

“The forbidden horizontal tango is now  the only way I am going to refer to sex.”

“I mean as you should.”

“My family is going to kill me for calling sex that.”

“I mean as they should,” she laughed, “Did you find clothes?” she asked, having already gotten dressed.

“Okay that’s unfair, you can’t wear new clothes when I’m stuck with ripped boxers.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have worn them in the first place,” she said, laughing, “And to be fair, Jay, I’m the one with clothes and you didn’t follow your own suggestion for an overnight bag.”

“Okay, listen, first of all,” he grabbed her, “That’s obviously my fault but shush, secondly, you’re dressing very black today,” he observed.

“Felt I would look the part of dating a Wayne.”

“No one’s going to see you.”

“That’s the point. I’m an invisible partner of a Wayne.”

“Well, I think you look nice.”

“I’m glad,” she laughed, “How ripped are your clothes?”

“Decently. Not noticeably, but decently.”

“Fun! Shall we go?”

He laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her lightly to the car and getting in to drive. 

“You ever think the vigilantes around here have complex lives?” she thought aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they have crazy, fulfilling lives like us, or are they just there to be heroes of the night? Are they sitting there wondering if they’re going to come home to their partners or if their parents are worried about them?” she questioned.

He sat there, looking forward. If only you knew. If only you knew what I go through, what everyone goes through. He managed to laugh and blow her off, “Maybe they’re just robots made to fight crooks in alleyways.”

“I’m serious. What if they’re all out there worried they’re going to die?”

“C’mon now.”

“Jay! They’re people!”

“They’re probably okay, baby. I doubt they’re out there almost dying.”

She wanted to say ‘You almost died’ but she bit her tongue, “That’s probably true. But it’s always something I thought, even when I lied in Metropolis with god damn Superman. I always wondered if he had a home to go to.”

“Who knows. Who knows.”

“They would. Maybe I should get a job as a reporter, interview some of them. Say ‘Fuck it’ and know if they have homes.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“How?”

“My Aunt, Iris, Barry’s wife? She’s a reporter. She’s on the frontlines for the supervillains and the small-time crooks of the world.”

“So anything and everything in between? Festive.”

“Well, that’s the life of a reporter. Journalists? Like my Uncle? He deals with a lot less bullshit unless they link him to Bruce. Iris is a reporter so she’s constantly there, Clark is usually never there.”

“Well, we at least know the elusive reporter and journalist have families,” she joked and he laughed.

“The elusive reporter and journalist in their natural habitats, my favourite National Geographic episode.”

She looked out her window at the streets and the people. She hadn’t been outside at night recently on the streets of Gotham, and she missed it. There was always something about it that made her keep coming back. Maybe it was the orphaned kids that she would go and make sure were okay. Maybe it was the fact that she watched one of the vigilantes swing to another roof.

She still remembered that moment well. She thought it was amazing, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her to have experienced. She wished she knew more, even if she just knew which one they were. So she could go on the forums and ask if people had spoken to them. Maybe it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, maybe others had witnessed what she did, but she wouldn’t know if she did not know which it was.

“Hey, random question, do you know the vigilantes' names in the city?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah? Why?” he responded.

“Okay so, the first night I walked home from your house after my car got towed right? I saw one of them. I’m not familiar with the vigilantes of the city, so: Do you know which one is the one with the blue bird symbol on their chest?”

“Oh, that one’s Nightwing. He seems cool, I don’t know, never actually met the guy.”

“Don’t Wayne Galas get attacked by villains on the regular though?”

“That doesn’t mean we get to talk to them,” he laughed, “It would be cool if we did, though.”

“Yeah it would. Would be a killer story for your Uncle and Aunt.”

“They are the only tabloids I liked because they leave us alone.”

“No reports from the Daily Planet about the Waynes?” she joked.

“God, Dad would probably half-jokingly sue Clark over that. Like sue him for 3 dollars or somethin’ levels of jokingly suing him.”

“Now, that, that would be a story for the tabloids.”

“Remind me to tell Dad about that, maybe it’ll get the press off your back.”

“You say that like your extended family cares about my trials.”

“They do, they wonder how you found yourself wrapped up in 2 crimes in the span of 2 weeks.”

“I wish I knew how I did that.”

He laughed, “If only we knew.”

“I guess we go get breakfast now, fast food?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m not eating in a restaurant with this high of a profile recently, my god,” she laughed.

“Alright, anything in particular? I can just order for you if you’re not up to talking to some people.”

“Go for it.”

“Alright.”

She didn’t pay attention while he ordered, instead she opened her lovely cellphone. And there they were, the tabloids click baiting the trials she was involved in. She rolled her eyes, knowing most of them were wrong, when she saw the article written by Clark Kent about it. She was tempted to read it, to know what Clark said. She figured he’d be an unbiased source fo information, but also likely more on her side than the defendant’s side. She didn’t even know the defendant's name.

She tapped on it and began reading.

The Case of The Court Versus David Brown.

Brown is a man known to the courts of Gotham, and the county jail of Gotham. When he was accused of assaulting a young woman, Ms. Y/N (Last name), not many members of the Gotham Police Force were shocked.

On the first day of the trial, Brown was asked to plead, to which he said, “Not guilty, your honor,” which is under a lot of scrutiny of those who have seen the video of Ms. (Last name) running from Brown in the alleyway where she head-butted him.

The prosecution opened their case,

“Ms. (Last name) was assaulted by the defendant, there is no question about it. The question here is if his motive was for the ransom Ms. (Last name) referenced in her interview with police after the event. The defendant very clearly went after Ms. (Last name) because of her ties to the billionaire Bruce Wayne, who would have easily paid the ransom for her if she hadn’t escaped.

The defense opened their case,

The question of whether or not my client assaulted Ms. (Last name) is not up for debate, he did assault her. However, it was in self-defense. She had assaulted him first, pulling him into the alleyway and attempting to make advances on him. She twisted the story in her on words to include the head-butting incident, in reality, my client punched her for her advances.

The people who watched the first event of the trial have noted being “Disgusted” and “Annoyed” at the practices that the defense brought to court, “Slandering the name of Ms. (Last name) when she is the victim.” many people are upset with the defense in this trial.

The next day of the trial should take place within a week. Until then, the questions are not going to be answered.

She looked at the defense's argument numerous times. She was in shock that they would accuse her of such bullshit. She was terrified that they would get away with this, when Jason pulled her out of her thoughts with a coffee.

“You shouldn’t get so involved in the tabloids right now, love.”

“Sorry, if it makes you feel better your Uncle wrote it. And thank you.”

“Anytime. I guess Clark wrote it well, but you watched the trial?”

“I don’t remember it.”

“You’re probably not going to watch more of it, are you?”

‘No way,” she said while drinking her coffee as they drove back to her house.

“That’s fair. No one expected you to be able to be able ot watch it.”

She nodded and kept drinking, “They made up so much bullshit.”

“They did, oh my god, I was pissed, baby. I was so god damn mad. Because what the fuck do you gain from lying?”

“Don’t even put that question in the universe, you know they’ll try to answer it the next time they’re in trial.”

“God you’re right,” he laughed, “Got you a breakfast sandwich. At least the dammed tabloids can’t take that away from us.”

“Thank god,” she laughed, “Thank you.”

“Seriously, anytime. It’s worth it.”

“You’ve spent so much money on me.”

“Pocket change.”

“Well, duh. Trust-fund baby.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll take you somewhere when I’m less high-profile. Maybe we’ll fake a breakup to keep everyone off my ass so we can go somewhere.”

“Fake a breakup? Wouldn't that just make you hated?”

“I’m already hated. I’m a gold-digger, a whore, a cheater, a statistic, a suicidal maniac, a homicidal maniac, a psychopath, I can go on and on about the shit being said about me.”

“Man, people need to keep their mouths shut.”

“You could say that again- don’t actually. But like, what the fuck did I do to deserve this, honestly? All I did was go on a date with you to get bombarded, yes, I do treat the press unfairly, but I do my best to never say a bad word about them publically, just jokes,” she joked, “I hate this,” she laughed.

“I hate tihs too,” he laughed, “You’re worth it though.”

“Oh man, a week into dating, two weeks into knowing each other and we’re here.”

“We should be anywhere else but in the midst of these terrible circumstances.”

“It’s unfortunate.”

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

Drinking her coffee on her bed with Jason beside her was something else, it was probably the most they had branched out in 4 days. The silence was lovely now that neither of them were having issues. They ate and drank in silence. They didn’t need constant conversation to prove that the enjoyed the presence of each other. 

She took a minute to take it all in, the messy shelves in her bedroom, the place on her desk where her laptop belonged, the broken handle to her bathroom door, the sheets on her bed which had been pulled and ruffled from Jason and her having fun. 

She looked out her window and looked at the rain starting to pour and decided to cuddle closer to Jason. He was warm but had a presence of underwhelming coldness to him, like he gave off fake body heat. She didn’t know what it was, but the extremes of his body were something she enjoyed but hated.

The exposition between his black hair to his white tuff of hair, the rough eyebrows to the small and delicate freckles, the blue of his eyes which seemed to glow green. The way it was like she was driving down a road, full speed ahead, and crashed into a wall, that was how it felt to be with Jason.

But who doesn’t love to die in a fiery accident into a wall at 500mph?

She laughed internally at her own joke about him before grabbing his hand and yanking him into the living room and past her roommate, A/N. A/N did not question it, because there was a new life to her roommate recently.

She dragged him out into the rain, to which he protested.

“What the fuck, respectfully?”

She laughed, “Don’t be respectful, and trust me. I’m going to make a movie moment.”

“I’m getting wet.”

“That’s my job,” she joked as she turned on a slow song before going to Jason and dancing with him.

“Well, can’t say I’ve done this,” he said.

“I don’t think most couples do.”

“Then why are we?” he asked

“Uh, yolo? You only live once, might as well dance in the rain with one of your lovers?” she retorted.

“One of them? Am I not the only one?”

“Oh no, you are,” she laughed, “But who knows, maybe we’ll fuck monogamy up the ass,” she joked.

“Probably not.”

“Probably not.”

And they danced for a few hours. Twirling and dipping in the rain. Watching the clothes they were wearing get more and more wet until the the white parts of Y/N’s dress were see-through, which took a while considering how small they were. 

Their hair was soaked and her makeup was running but they didn’t care. They were having fun, and no one was going to stop them, not a villain, not a vigilante, no one. He would wipe away her makeup since it was basically already off her face and laugh.

“Your makeup looked nice before we came out here.”

“I bet! The rain’s probably washing it all way, did I look like I was crying?”

“You looked like you were sobbing.”

She laughed, “You love to see it, you really do.”

The music was basically drowned out by the rain. It was on her phone, so it was probably water damaged from the rain, but no one cared. They just wanted to have fun.

But the dancing got tired because of the fact that Y/N was in heels, so she went and picked up her phone. It wasn’t damaged. She looked at her recent texts while Jason tugged her lightly to the bathroom, to see that Bruce Wayne, Jason’s dad, had paid off her car and it was being driven back to her house.

“Hey baby?”

“Y/N?”

“Did you tell your dad to pay off my car?”

“Oh, yeah. I figured it’d get impounded and my dad could just wait a while for you to pay back. It getting impounded was going to cost you more money.”

“God you're right and I hate that.”

He laughed and kissed her before turning on the shower.

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

That was the second time that day that they had had sex. It was impressive that they had had sex that many times, and that many rounds. They thought it was fun as all hell to have sex whenever they had the chance.

Maybe they were saying “Suck it” to Bruce, or maybe they were just having fun. Maybe it was both.

“You look so cute with my hand around your neck,” he said behind her before lightly grabbing her neck and pulling her head back to his chest. He buried his face in her shoulder.

“He says while looking down,” she joked.

“I’ll squeeze.”

“Jay, we just showered. C’mon. Keep it in your pants.”

He groaned, “No fun,” he tilted his head into the crook of her neck and started leaving little kisses.

“Jay, C’mon.”

He sighed, “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. I guess we can stop,” he jokingly-whined at her, “At least we can kiss.”

“That’s true, but get dressed.”

“Get dressed!” he whined to her, “In this economy!”

“God dammnit,” she laughed, “Stay naked then and I’ll eat your food.”

“Don’t you dare.”

[cafeleningrad]

From all god damn nostalgia fandoms my colleagues could be into, they're into Naruto and I've thoughts about it, again. Hello 12 year old me!

But apart from any jokes I've zero interest in engaging with the fandom even more the meta because it's ultimately pointless to go through all the Hiruzen-slander, or Uchiha-lore, trying argue for or against Sakura because ultimately Naruto in Shippuden, in it's end is an entire different beast than it's classic beginning.

So, Naruto was a series made for Shounen Jump who's target audience are young teenage boys. The point of Naruto 'n friends being Ninjas who got into tough fights in which people spit fire, throw knives at each other, summon gigantic animals, or teleport through puddles wasn't set up commentary on child soldiers. Ninja-wizards running around in an action setting is the action shit stuff young teens love.

Sure, observed the premise of Naruto under a critical lense, Naruto living on his own since he was a baby is at least a case for the ninja from Child-care-services-gakure to at most extremely unlikely to have survived on his own. (I mean, getting nit-picky, why would people have let survive the kid harbouring the fox-monster in first place???) Same goes for Sasuke living on his own or being as emotionally and mentally stable as he is. Or Hinata. Same for Neji or for Gaara recovering as quickly after being tackled down my talking-no Jutsu. But you now what this unrealistic scenario is very much the same dramatic stuff you about people's first OCs because well duh, again, a series for young teens. A certain lack of realism in a world in which Foxes of thensize of Mount Rushmore live in a mouthy 12-year-old kid could be accepted.

I know, I know, Naruto later became super critical about it's own premise it set up Shippuden but frankly, I can't agree to any anti-Hiruzen-sentiment because Hiruzen's entire function in classic Naruto was the one of a grandfatherly mentor-figure, no more critical thought spent on Naruto's actual life before the start of the story

But we're also talking about an environment in which stuck up adults can get beaten by an oiroke-no-jutsu. Like, the entire world of Classic Naruto was a bit nuts and silly. Naruto transforms into a cute girl just to mess up annoying adults, wins a fight by farting, his mentor is a die hard fan of and constantly has his head stuck between the pages of this world's version of "Fifty Shades of Grey", his next mentor is the best-selling author of named series, that way of running (we all know what I mean), side characters recognizable mostly by very outstanding quirks. The entire world of classic Naruto was whimsical and kinda adoring the details to no end. Be it the art style depicting Konohagakure as a town full full of different shops and quirky architecture, Naruto having plants standing around because his hobbies include gardening, or every character wearing a unique wardrobe, including their choice on where to wear their headbands.

Look, I neither envy nor feel I can blame Kishimoto for weird writing choices. The Shounen-Jump is hell for draining their creator's energies and resources in many ways. The fact even millenium exceptions like Eiichiro Oda come to struggle, indicates how hard it must be for those who don't posses his exceptional stamina and flow of ideas. Definitely a lot what I'm going to criticize is very likely related to Jump not giving their artists the chance to take a break, recover, gain new energy to rejuvenate themselves or their ideas.

Still, when focusing on the plot- progression only, I believe the essence of what made Naruto beloved by so many in it's run shifted rather drastically.

All in all, I think what happened in Naruto Shippuden (well actually kinda beginning at Sasuke's retrival arc beginning to shift the story's focal point on Sasuke's and Naruto's rivalry as driving force :/ ) is what happened to Star Wars with it's sequels:

Overexplaining the whimse actually giving the world it's essence; at some point self refering to it's biggest hits (Tenseigan arc... sure some parts were emotional but man... that was fanservice for hype's sake...), and making everyone special.

In theory I've nothing against Naruto being Minato's son (my suspicion is his looks in classic Naruto weren't designed on accident) but what was charming about Naruto as a disregarded orphan, an underdog protagonist was him much unlike his usual contemporary shounen counterparts (speaking from the date of his first appearence in Jump in the late 90s). Even Gon or Son Goku were already talented from the beginning whereas Naruto may be funny but has to work hard for his achievements. A nobody underdog creating his own place and meaning in life is a super strong concept for a protagonist - if not a great message for young readers.

Yet... in the end Naruto is a reincarnated god or something, so is his rival???Who's family and their Ramen-to-Tonkatsu-gan as 2684th version of the sharingan, in fact Konoha from all various Ninja villages is suddenly the center of all attention. By that point the story could as well has been named "UCHIHA vs the WORLD!!! feat. that runs after that one dense family member (if that wasn't the Jump we could offically name it as it is: gay)".

The existence of jutsu needs to be explained when the audience before just did fine with the idea of "chakra".

Another self-reference and kind of a betrayal regarding the original's theme of becoming your own person was team 7 being carved as copy of the legendary three sanin over taking their abilities and symbolism (RIP Sakura's potential of better character developement.)

Okay, I'm not argumenting properly anymore. So some small notes: * The ninja fights were always a tad bit unrealistic from actual ninja fighting style (surprise who would've guessed orange is an unsuitable for an occupation entailing espionage...). Still the power limit was extremely clear from the beginning. The adults knew more jutsus with more impact, the fights were strategic as no kekkai genkai was so unique as a meteor crushing an opponent to overpower them. In Shippuden ninja abilities are just allover massive impact sayin attacks. * Where on Earth was Iruka, Naruto's central parental figure, during Naruto's emotional struggles?? * So much of the humor is gone. Aside from a few jokes here and there a lot of fun and silliness from the beginning is missing. * The lack of environmental details, more and more reduced individuality in clothing style already in the art style showcase how little energy and thoughts were left for the world.

Don't even get me started on the ending. Konoha destroying, preying on teenagers, organizing an infiltration of not only one but two ninja villages, killing one Hokage Orochimaru is now just the quirky uncle. Naruto and Sasuke who's common trauma was the lack of a loving family in life are bad parents???

One note on Sakura. Arguing about her being "useful" or "good character" is kinda pointless in my eyes because ultimately that would mean trying to make sense of the splotchy development and characterisation she got over the story. (Where was her talent for genjutsu?? Where was potential for her not having to fit the self-referential mold? Boy, I could write a long ass post what I would've loved to happed to her.)

In the end this rant became a full blown mess, and it will take me a while before I can formulate fully structured arguments but my final point is: I can't get meta about a story which is initially split in essentially two different spirits.

One being a quirky world for a young teen action shounen story. The other being a supernatural drama about the Uchiha clan feat. that runs after that one dense family member (if that wasn't the Jump we could offically name it as it is: gay).

[the-river-person]

Mistral Sans is now Community Shared

To echo the words of @undertaleauoc, Mistral is "open for use" without the need to request permission from the creator (me) though I’d like to be tagged and credited still. Mistral Formerly named: Sans Age: 10 to the power of 100 years (technically a little more than that by now, but the number is so huge that it's no longer relevant.) Gender: Male Appearance: Appears much like Classic Sans, except for the silvery-white crystalline formations growing all over his body. These can get quite large if he hasn’t removed them in a while, and are often quite sharp to anyone with flesh instead of bone. He makes an effort to keep the Kenón from growing up over his head and face, or from completely encasing his body, but it's difficult to keep up with since it grows faster whenever he happens to be in the Void itself. He wears a long brown overcoat, gloves, and long black trousers, mostly in effort to hide the Kenón as much as possible or keep the sharp points from cutting people by accident. He also keeps a red bandana around his neck, something given to him by Papyrus. His eyes never went back to their original state after the Void-Sickness. Instead of dark hollows with a white iris, they seem to be a pale grey, like a well of deep nothingness. Backstory: Mistral’s Universe is based upon the question “What would happen if the Human just never stopped the Resets, but went on forever?” And the resulting Tale that followed was one of mindless repetitions for time out of mind as the Human would Reset in order to prevent the Underground from being destroyed. Eventually the human, who was no longer human, stopped when Sans suggested a different means to preserve their Universe without killing. This Underground has a deep history of worship and lore that surrounds their Angel, and Sans played the role of Judge, a historical job where someone representing the Angel’s Justice would be called upon to make an absolute Judgement upon anyone or anything. The King called upon him to bring his judgement upon the entire Underground for their part in everything. Formerly a scientist under his Uncle Gaster, he helped come up with the “Solution” which the entire Underground was inoculated with to help them remember beyond Resets. He himself was a victim of the Void poisoning like that which affected Gaster’s Followers and was only saved from being wiped to a blank slate by Gaster’s efforts. A fragment of Kenón (Void-stone) and determination was placed in his soul, causing the crystals to spread from it. In later years as the Underground thrived despite the Resets, he pushed himself to get another degree, this time in psychology, and eventually became a practicing therapist/psychologist (as well as the Underground’s willing delivery boy. He liked being able to see and talk to people all the time, and get to know things.) Upon the destruction of his Universe he was thrown into the Void with his Uncle Gaster, where they were rescued by the mysterious River Person. They met with Ink!Sans who explained the Multiverse and gave them the means to travel it. Now they travel from Universe to Universe, or sometimes wander the Void itself, or the Anti-Void. Gaster (now named Majuscule) is searching for his children, and Sans (now named Mistral) is helping while searching for the Ship his brother escaped with and whatever survivors of his people there might still be. Personality: Mistral is old. Though he was in a mindless forgetful repetitive state for much of the Resets, and has few memories of his own childhood beyond what Papyrus reminded him of, he is significantly mentally older than most of the other Monsters from his Universe. The determination in his soul (along with the Kenón) makes him very strong willed and much more powerful than he was before. It also gives him a minor energy boost. His years as a scientist specializing in studies of the Soul and Physics, as well as his later degree in psychology and practice as a therapist, make him a fairly discerning person who is easily approachable and can talk about a number of different subjects with ease. Despite his actions during the Genocide Routes, he is a much more mentally stable person (possibly one of the most stable Sanses out there from what I see) and is very much a pacifist, refusing violence altogether and choosing to let his words and mind guide him out of trouble, or his teleportation to let him escape danger. Because of his refusal to consider physical violence, even in his own defense, his skill in using fighting magic has atrophied. He can no longer summon the blasters at all, and his bone attacks are weaker. His teleportation on the other hand is much stronger and he can do it more often without tiring too much. The other effects of his refusal to fight means that he must proactively avoid confrontation whenever possible. Mistral uses his knowledge of how people think and act to guide his interactions with others, putting even Monsters from the Fell Universes at ease with well timed and thought out humorous comments, as well as just generally being willing to listen and try to see from the point of view of other people. He can tell puns, but they usually sound a bit forced, like he memorized them somewhere and was just waiting for a point to use them. Very rarely he’ll come up with the perfect one on the spot and be absolutely thrilled with himself. More often he uses dry humor, throwaway lines, or Hyperbole.

His willingness to try and defuse the tension caused by aggressive Monsters he’s dealing with can sometimes backfire on him and serves to make the Monster even angrier and more violent. Mistral will then flee, not wanting to fight them, but often marking himself as guilty or suspicious in the process when this happens with an authority figure who has confronted him for his presence.

The Kenón crystal growing all over his body tends to freak people out as well, which is why he hides it as much as he can beneath the overcoat, gloves, and bandana.

Like all skeletons of his Universe, Mistral has a great knowledge of fonts and writing systems, punctuation marks, ciphers, and typography. It is a very important subject to them as it very closely ties with how they see themselves, their identity as a person. This may be rather strange to skeletons from other Universes who do not share this background. A similar problem comes when skeletons from other Universes find out how strongly he and the Monsters of his world believe in the mythical Angel of Mount Ebbot and often pray to them or swear by them (or use “Angel” as a swear).

He’s also very interested in the concept of Identity and how it can change over time or be altered by events in your life, and how names connect to the concept of identity.

Can I use Mistral in my comic/story/animation/etc?: Sure. He’s a wandering type character, so it's likely he’ll show up in countless Universes and places all over while searching for his brother and his missing cousins. Sometimes he’ll be with Gaster and sometimes not.

One thing to note is that his story will have a continuation, so if in your story you detail events that involve him beyond just a brief meeting, chat, or background character… Just be aware that it's probably not going to be canon to the story I’m planning for him (though if we take other Multiverses into account it could be canon elsewhere).

I would like to insist that you tag and credit me on his use (Credit is good. Tagging me makes it so I can come see your wonderful creations).

Can I ship Mistral with this other character/characters?: Yeah, why not?. Canonically he’s aesexual and only very passingly interested in the idea of romantic relationships. But sure, ship him with whoever you like. Just know that it's not canon to this Multiverse.

While I would still like to be tagged in stuff that involves him. I know I can’t stop nsfw art/writing and other things of that nature from happening, much as I might like to. But be warned, If I see it or am tagged with that, or am sent asks of that... I will block you. Fontcest, Incest ships, child ships, or smut in general will all get you blocked instantly.

Canon height and weight: 4-5 feet high (same as Classic Sans). Weight was trickier. He’s a skeleton. A human skeleton is only about 15% of your body weight. So classic is probably somewhere around 16 or so pounds. But Mistral is covered by continually growing crystalline structures of Kenón. Since the crystal is heavy but spread out and somewhat kept under control, it probably only doubles his weight, making him 32 pounds.

Canon strength: Mistral isn’t a fighter. His attacks are weak because his desire to actually fight is nonexistent, even if he has to defend himself or others. But his actual physical strength, as opposed to his magical attacks, sees a significant increase to that of your normal Sans. The Kenón crystals actually increase his defense by making his bones stronger and more crack resistant, and his self healing is well equipped to deal with most breaks, though they’re still quite painful.

He also has increased endurance for longer physical or magical activities so long as combat or confrontation isn’t part of it.

Since he weighs more, he can’t jump as high as a Sans who weighs less (not that it's a huge difference. He’s only 32 pounds. Plus his strength can mostly make up for it by pushing himself off harder when jumping.)

Is it okay if I draw him with another gender, age, height, or sexuality?: Go for it. Have fun. Tag and credit me. But remember that it’s not canon to THIS Multiverse that I’m working in.

Canon Birthday?: September 16th (though he hasn’t celebrated in a LONG time. He probably doesn’t remember his last actual birthday party. Papyrus might though…)

Font?: Used to be Comic Sans. But now it's Mistral (upper and lowercase).

Original AU: Aeontale by

a_river_is_a_liminal_space

(or the-river-person. basically… me)

Can I send Asks for more details if I need or want them?: Yes. My askbox is open. I’ll answer what I can. I’ve put everything I can think of on here, but inevitably there’s always something missed in things like this. So ask away.

[winterfluffs]

Mistakes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Summary: He had it all. It just took him too long to realize it.

Warnings: Angst galore. Lots of swearing, fighting, name calling; mentions of sex, drinking and cheating.

Word count: 2.4k

Author's notes: Hello, everyone. It has been quite a while. Unfortunately life happened and is still happening so I haven't had time to write like I want to. Also having a mental block isn't helping any...So I thought I would try some of my old stuff on here (it was written with another person so it might not all make sense). Anyway, try to enjoy.

[Y/N = Your name]

[Y/N/N = Your nickname]

[R/G/N = Random girl’s name]

[H/C = Hair color]

[E/C = Eye color]

[H/C* = Brunette, blonde, redhead etc]

Steve Rogers stared at the house in front of him, his throat tightening at the thought of seeing her again. [Y/N]. The love of his life. The one person who knew him inside and out and yet he let her slip through his hands. Steve thought back to the last day he saw her, his eyes filling with tears as the memory of the fight that ended their relationship played over in his mind - the fight that, even today, continued to haunt him.

-------

Steve stumbled in the door of his house, clearly unaware of how drunk he was. “Y/N!” He called out making his way from the door through the dark house. He stopped in the hallway, remembering where they had made love throughout the years. Feeling himself get turned on by the thought, Steve felt his way through the dark hallway grabbing onto tables, walls, paintings anything that would stable his continuous swaying.

Steve hoisted himself up on his elbows, frowning slightly. This was not what he had planned. He was going to come home after a night out at the bar and he was going to sweep his girlfriend up in his arms and make sweet, passionate love to her until the sun started to rise. That was the plan. Not this. Not another fight.  

“[Y/N]!” He called out again, mumbling to himself as he found the stairway to their bedroom. Where the hell was she? The thought of her was beginning to really turn him on now, his pants tightening as he rested a hand inside in his pants, grabbing his hard on in his hand. He needed her and he needed her now. It had been so long since they made love, so long since he felt himself inside her, so long since he held her in his arms that the need to be with her grew with every step he took. “[Y/N/N]-” He gulped back the feel of bile rising in his throat. No. He was not going to be sick tonight. Tonight, he was going to spend the rest of his free time with his girl in his arms, making slow sweet love to her.

Tonight, was going to be different. Tonight, he was going to make her forget all their fighting, the distance he had put between the two and he was going to make her feel like the queen she was.

It wasn’t his fault they had grown apart. No. She was pregnant. She spent more time caring for that unborn child than she did with him. NO! Steve shook the thought out of his head.

“[Y/N]!” He finally made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom, flipping on the lights as he burst through the door.

“Steve, what the hell?” [Y/N] moaned shielding her eyes from the bright light that shone through the room. “It’s three in the morning.”

Steve quickly made his way towards the bed, tripping over various shoes and clothes he had thrown around the room, cursing under his breath when he banged his shin into the bedpost while trying to climb onto the bed.

“Steve, you’re drunk.” [Y/N] sighed as the nauseating smell of alcohol overpowered her senses. Sitting up gently as to not upset her stomach, Y/N opened her eyes more doing her best to focus on what was going on around her.

“I….am not drunk.” Steve slurred doing his best to give her a smile that turned out to be more of a lopsided grin. “I have come to spend time with my beautiful girlfriend.”

[Y/N] scoffed rolling her eyes. Noticing her sudden sense of annoyance, Steve tried to crawl over the bed only to slump face down into the covers. He chuckled to himself, his laughter echoing off the four walls. “What was that for?” He called out suddenly, his voice muffled by the duvet.

“Rogers, you are so drunk you can barely speak.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes again. “Look, you’re drunk, I’m tired. I’m going back to bed.”

“Nooooooooooo…..” Steve protested. “I’m going to make it up to you tonight. No sleep.” He slurred more, his eyes trying to focus on the person sitting next to him.

“Make WHAT up, Steve?” [Y/N]’s voice turned cold, bitter. “The times when you would disappear days on end? Or maybe the fact that you would never say a word to me before or after you got home. Or are you planning on making up for the fact that you use any excuse to stay out of the house for as long as possible? Huh, Steven?!” 

“I’m going to make it up to you. Let’s go out!” Steve grinned, slapping his hand against the pillows. He had to take her out. He had to show her that he still loved her even though he had pulled away from her recently. “Get dressed in something sexy. I’m going to take you out to eat and then we’ll go stay at a beautiful hotel until morning.”

“I am four months pregnant, Steve. I am not going ANYWHERE at three in the morning.” [Y/N] groaned, rolling her eyes as the annoyance in her body grew.

 He cursed under his breath. This was becoming a lot harder than he had originally thought. “Then fuck me. I need to ram my hard dick into that wet cunt of yours.” Steve hissed in her ear, pressing his lower body into her leg.

“Steve, please go to sleep. You are clearly very drunk; it is really late and I haven’t been feeling well at all today. Get into bed and sleep it off.” [Y/N] moaned turning her back to him, snuggling back under the warm covers and shutting her eyes.

“I said FUCK! ME!” Steve roared grabbing and pinning her against the headboard of the bed making [Y/N] gasp in fear. Steve’s breathing deepened the anger and need for control rising higher in his body.

 “Who the FUCK do you think you are?!” [Y/N] slapped him across the face a new anger seething through her entire body. Not only was he able to hurt her but he could hurt their baby too, a chance [Y/N] refused to take. “I NEVER want to see you EVER again!” She hissed trying to wiggle free from his tight grasp.

Steve scoffed shoving her harder against the headboard. “You are such a tease. You lay here in my bed night after night without even as much as looking at me much less touching me. What kind of woman are you, huh? The kind of woman who dick teases her man but won’t give him anything. The kind of woman I was stupid enough to be with for five years.”

[Y/N] immediately felt her hand smack across his face, the anger quickly turning to disgust as Steve held her to the bed with one hand while the other began to remove his clothes. “Fuck you.” She shoved him off her making Steve stumble back onto the bed. Grabbing the biggest suitcase she could find, [Y/N] very quickly began tossing every piece of clothing and underwear she could find along with some toiletries and her cell phone into her bag and dialing a cab as she worked her way through her closet.

Steve staggered to the open room holding on to the doorframe in order to not topple over. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He smirked, stumbling an inch closer to where she was standing.

“You are a horrible and despicable excuse for a human being, Steven Rogers. I NEVER want to see or hear from you ever again. Ever.” She hissed picking up her suitcases and throwing them down the stairs.

“Fine. With. Me.” Steve smirked feeling happy that he would finally be rid of her for good. “I’ve been fucking [R/G/N] behind your back anyway.”

[Y/N] spun on her heel, punching him square in the face as the shock of everything began to take over her body. “I spent the last five years of my life being in love with someone who never truly loved me back. When I have my child, he will never know who his father was because as far as I’m concerned you don’t deserve the kind of love that I or my child can give. Steve, you stay away from me from now on. I have wasted thousands and thousands of kisses and nights loving you- love that I thought was special because of who you were and an amazing person you could be. I used to think that was the real you, when you smiled and made me feel like I was home. But now I know you didn’t mean any of it. Shame on me for kissing and loving you with my eyes closed so tight.”

And with those words, she was out of his life, for good.

 -------

Steve instantly felt the bile rise to the back of his throat as the memory flashed in front of his eyes. The look of hurt, anger, pain and disappointment in her eyes played over and over in his mind, each time making him feel worse than the last.

 He knew he should have treated her better, he should have been there like a good boyfriend should have. Instead, he pushed her away, left for days without telling her where he was going or when he would be back. He wanted his freedom, but he also wanted to come home and cuddle up next to [Y/N], make love to her and let her know she was the one. He had been so stupid! Said things he didn’t mean to say. Why did he say he was sleeping with another woman when the only woman he wanted was her?

Swallowing hard, he shakily opened the door to his mother’s house and was instantly greeted by a warmth he hadn’t felt since [Y/N] left him. His heart began to pound loudly in his chest as he heard the one thing he had wanted for so long.

Steve’s steps quickened, the need to see her becoming more of a need to breathe as he finally made his way from the kitchen and into the living room. His breath caught in his throat and tears filled his eyes as his eyes laid on the gorgeous woman sitting next to his mother on the couch. Her long [H/C] hair had been cut and now flowed around her shoulders, her [E/C] eyes shone with a sparkle Steve hadn’t seen in a long time. On her lap sat the most beautiful baby boy he had ever seen.

Blinking back tears, Steve eyed the little boy carefully; light blond hair, big blue eyes, and a smile Steve knew belonged to the little boy’s mother. His eyes then shifted to a little blonde haired, blue eyed baby girl sitting on his mother’s lap. Covering his mouth with a tearful gasp, Steve slowly backed away unable to stop the tears from falling.

“I should have been there. [Y/N] needed me and I wasn’t there. How stupid and selfish was I?” Steve paced the warm kitchen, stopping immediately when he heard [Y/N] laugh loudly, the ache in his heart growing. He carefully looked into the living room, his eyes resting on the beautiful [H/C*] closely. Her smile lit up her whole face, something Steve hadn’t seen in too long a time making his heart break more, knowing he was not her reason for happiness.

That is when he saw him: A tall, strong, dark haired, blue eyed man sat next to Y/N, her eyes twinkling as the man bent down to whisper something in her ear. He watched as the man slipped an arm around [Y/N]’s waist, lovingly kissing her on the head just like he once used to. Steve felt the tears refill his eyes as he watched Y/N place a tender yet loving kiss on the taller man’s lips, smiling widely with happiness as she pulled away.

“Steven?” Steve blinked, not realizing he had been staring. Looking to the person next to him, Steve’s heart rose into his throat, his knees becoming weak. “Mom…” Steve whispered before collapsing into his mother’s arms no longer able to hold back the tears he’d been desperately trying to fight.

“Steve!” A sudden gasp caused Steve to turn from his mother’s embrace, immediately causing him to stop dead in his tracks. [Y/N] stood in the doorway, her mouth open in shock at the sight of her ex-lover in tears. Steve’s heart thudded in his chest - she was even more beautiful than he remembered.

“[Y/N/N]….” He whispered breathlessly wanting to take her in his arms, telling her what a fool he had been to let her go. “I am so s-”

“Mrs. Rogers, you have been wonderful. Thank you so much for having us over.” [Y/N] braved a smile even though she felt her heart breaking all over again. Quickly gathering her things and giving Mrs. Rogers a farewell hug, Y/N looked back and saw Steve still standing in the kitchen, silently watching her from behind his tears.

Steve wanted to move, call out, say something - anything - to her but lost his voice each time he tried. Realizing his mistakes, Steve gently grabbed her by the arm forcing her to face him for the first time since their breakup. “[Y/N/N], I….” He took in a deep breath, fighting back even more tears as the look of hurt shone through her eyes.

“Please, Steve. Don’t.” She quickly turned away, her lip quivering as the tears filled her eyes.

“[Y/N/N], please.” Steve lifted her face to his. Tears streamed down her face making Steve’s heart break even more. All because he was stupid, because he pushed her away and forced her out of his life. “I…love…you.”

[Y/N] stood in shock. The last thirteen and a half months swirled in her head; the late nights, the partying, the drinking, him never being home, being pregnant and alone, the horrible fight that ended their five-year long relationship all came crashing down around her, making it hard for her to breathe.

“Steven, I have to go!” [Y/N] shrugged her arm out of his grasp, holding back the sobs as she quickly made her way to the front door. Steve called out to her, his voice soft, almost a whisper. All she wanted to do was get out, put Steven Grant Rogers behind her once and for all. Yet as she struggled to open the door Steve spoke only two words to her.

Two words that would forever change her life.

“I’m sorry.”

[saundraswriting]

Cosmogyral

I decided to participate in a writing challenge for a great author, Georgie at @bonkywobble. This is the first of two prompts for this challenge. I hope you enjoy it! 

SUMMARY: Cosmogyral: (Adj.) Whirling around the universe. Bucky stops whirling about the universe once the reader enters his life. 

This is being posted on my writing blog instead of my main blog @saundrasays. Please check out my other works if you wish. 

Masterlist // Ao3

Recovery was hard. Shuri and everyone in Wakanda did what they could for him. They were able to somehow fix his brainwaves into being triggerless, but he still had so much trauma to work through that some days he could barely move. There were days that the weight of the world bent his back, his hands were stained red. His time in Wakanda helped him learn how to be human again, caring for the goats and interacting with people, he even relearned his strength. He was able to train and spar and not kill and that did great things for his mental health. He was stable, but not happy. He wasn’t sure what would make him happy anymore.

“Hey, Buck.” A deep voice came through the sparring room. Bucky looked over from where he was working at a punching bag. His eye brightened significantly seeing you and Steve come through the door.

“Y/N! Hey. Good to see you too, Steve.” Bucky smiled, walking over to them. Steve shot Bucky a knowing grin at the enthusiasm but said nothing.

“We came to move you out of basic training, dingbat.” You were rocking back and forth from toe to heel, excitement palatable. “You based all your checks and Shuri and the others gave the recommendation for a return to New York.” You were grinning from ear to ear. You and Bucky had grown close over the events with Zemo and the almost Civil War.

You were one of the few that successfully drove attention from the in-fighting to the bigger problems, also pointed out that the Accords as they were written were terrible. Your involvement led to a peaceful reconciliation and explanation instead of a practical disbandment of the Avengers, much to yours and everyone’s pleasure. You worked closely with everyone to get their opinions and strived to find solutions, one of those was a location change. You suggested a move to somewhere out of sight, fit for training and bonding. No one was against you and as such you were along for the ride to collect one of the remaining members.

“Wait, what? I can go home?” Bucky froze, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. Then slowly, like a sunrise a grin crossed his face. His eyes scrunched up and he had dimples on his cheeks. The shoulders that seemed to be weighed down by something relaxed and eased, making him seem younger.

“Yep! We are gonna help ya pack and then get you home. Well sort of. We don’t live in the city proper anymore. But I think you will like this better, anyways.” You put your hand to the side of your mouth to whisper. “It was my idea.” You winked and turned quickly on your heel. “Hurry the hell up, oldies. We got shit to do and places to be.” You trotted out of the room hollering for Shuri, even though you knew exactly where she was.

“You heard her. Let’s get a move on. She waits for no man, let alone to 100 year old super soldiers.” Steve clapped Bucky on the back. Bucky huffed and nodded. The two of them cleaned up Bucky’s small mess and then slowly made their way to his small house to pack his meager belongings. They knew you would find them eventually. You had friends in Wakanda too.

A few hours later, Bucky’s last two years of his life were packed in discreet plain cardboard boxes the fit easily into the back of the Quinjet. Bucky had already said his goodbyes and was anxiously waiting in a sit behind Steve. You were at least on the ramp, loitering in your goodbyes, you were laughing and waving as the door closed. You settled down for take off and noticed Bucky’s look.

“You do know that not having a lot of thigs isn’t a bad thing, right? That just means you weren’t meant to settle down there. The next place I hope for you is a forever place and if not, I’ll help you find it. We have all the time you need. You aren’t alone anymore.” You said. You were trying to comfort Bucky, but knew you fell short.

“I guess that is true. I was too busy learning to heal and get healthy to be worried about stuff. I can get things now. I can have stuff.” Bucky said. He grabbed your hand and squeezed.

“Yep. You get to be a person now, isn’t that great. Decisions are all around you.” You said. You squeezed his hand back. “I know I just said that but to make the move easier and a bigger surprise, I did choose some of the things for your room, which if you don’t like we can change.” You let go of Bucky’s hand before settling down in your chair.

“This is your captain speaking. We have reached cruising altitude. I would like to thank you for flying Stark Air and Have a wonderful day.” Steve said from the cockpit.

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Great. Thanks, Steve. I have so much shit to do. I have three godamn reports to file and a STRIKE team to brief for Fury. I’ll be in the tech room if you need me.” With that you headed off to a small room to the side, where you began briefing the team you’d mentioned and reviewing the reports you needed to file.

“Bucky, you can sit up here. I don’t bite.” Steve said. He and you had worn civilian clothes, Steve was relaxed in his seat, letting the auto pilot have control. “I hope you liked your surprise. I hope you like your surprise. She worked very hard on it. She’s sweet on you.”

“Nah. She’s sweet on everyone. I am sure I will like it. She gets me pretty well. When I first woke up here, after Shuri cleared me of triggers, she was one of the first people I met. She happened to be walking through the lab and somehow knew that I was uncomfortable with the prodding even though I didn’t know. Then in a snap, she was everywhere. Not maliciously, just comfortingly on the edge of my radar, especially at the beginning. It’s no wonder, why I love her the way I do. She means a lot to me. Right now, I am okay with it being sweetness and softness and warmth. If one day it becomes thick and heavy and hot then I am okay with that too.” Bucky said. He couldn’t look Steve in the eye, only able to focus on his fingers, rubbing his human fingers against his cybernetic ones.

“Well then. I think I am embarrassed, and I was the one who mentioned it.” Steve could feel the heat on his cheeks. He laughed softly. “I am happy for you Bucky. I really am.”

The two of them chatted for most of the ride, finally you joined in after getting your work done. All too soon though, the jet alerted everyone to the start of the descent, forcing you all to return to your seats. Upon arrival, the boxes were left to be delivered later by a shield team. You and Steve had explained the upstate compound to him while packing in Wakanda, the solution to many problems, a training ground for new Avenger candidates and such. Your trio headed straight to Bucky’s room, the anticipation making you tremble.

“This is my room, but you look more excited.” Bucky pointed out. The two of you had been walking next to each other from the hangar but every few feet somehow, you’d shifted to the right or left, orbiting each other. Steve could barely stomach the nauseating aura the two of you put off. You couldn’t stop smiling and your kept clapping every few steps laughing in excitement.

“My love language is acts of service for a reason, buckaroo. I like doing things for the resident dumbass.” You grinned, reaching for Bucky’s hand, that was already reaching for yours. Steve silently gagged from behind the two of you.

The three of you reached the room, but Steve kept going. This wasn’t something he wanted to intrude upon. He had seen and heard enough with all your questions you had for him. You and Bucky stopped in front of his door. There was a biometric scanner next to the door but also a regular lock. You pulled a single key on a goat keychain and handed it over, your fingers trembling. Bucky grabbed on, his fingers brushing yours. You didn’t let go just yet.

“Welcome home, Sargent James Buchanan Barnes.” You took a deep breath and let go of the keys.

“Thank you. I promise, there is no need to be nervous. You did this for me, out of the goodness of your heart, I will love it.” ‘I already love you.’ He thought, he swallowed the words down though. He unlocked the door, ignoring his own nerves and pushed the door open.

His room had several big windows with a window seat, overlooking the acres and acres of land. There were shelves along one wall, several filled with books already, and movies. There were several plants hanging near the window seat. The walls were a muted blue/gray color and the sheets were chocolate color with what looked like a dozen pillows. The ceiling however was covered in a projection it looked like. It was too real to be painted but too artificial to be real. It was soothing and inviting and had just the right things to make him feel welcomed into his new home.

“The ceiling is something Shuri helped with. It is a projection from tech in the top of your walls. You can change it to project and sky from anywhere. Just ask SKYNET.” Bucky looked at you in awe. You had worked so hard to make him a place to call his own. “There are some books, movies, video games. The computer and tablet and phone are loaded to go with logins and apps and payment methods, I wrote down all that in a notebook in the desk too. I have a re-education guide for pop culture there too, same one I used for Steve except yours is more cause documentaries and I know you’d enjoy it more. I stocked the kitchenette with stuff already, nothing super perishable but snack foods and such.” You were rambling to cover your nerves; you both knew it. The more you spoke the more embarrassed you got. The more you talked the more Bucky felt his whole world shift, his entire existence tightened, to you and only you.

Recovery was hard, especially had been hard on him. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing or where he was going. He was just floating, purposeless until you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky realized he had been staring not at the room but at you while you were talking. He could see the love and care you put into the room, not just the room but into your wordless confession.  

“Yeah, I love you.” Bucky grabbed your hand, pulling you into a tight hug.

[andersonsbiceps]

Here’s an unfortunate confession - the 20k Shepard/Saren epic (i looked over it and i ached on AO3) was not my assignment for the gift exchange for which it was written. In fact, it actually got in the way of writing the thing I was supposed to, because I wanted to write it so badly and spent so much time daydreaming about how to put it together. 

This post exists because I put like, twelve layers of meaning into that fic that no one is going to notice or comment on because this ship is a teeny little tugboat and I get the sense that most other people are not on it for complex, fucked up relationships that pretty much demand I write Shepard as the sort of character no one wants to project on. So like, if no one’s going to write the comments that I want, I’m going to sit down and do the analysis myself. Be the change you want to see in the world.

So, as far as meaning goes, I figure I’ll start with the characters. Everyone who’s got a POV in this fic is an unreliable narrator in their own special way. 

(Carolina) Shepard’s got a very clear idea of what’s going on in her own head, but she’s prone to making snap judgements about other people and then not changing them until it becomes stupidly obvious that she’s wrong. She doesn’t clock that Saren likes her (even as a friend or a colleague!) for literal years after that becomes a thing, and assumes he’s experiencing mental health issues for the same reasons she might in his shoes and not, you know, reaper mind control.

An example of this that didn’t make it into the story was Shepard worrying about Saren isolating himself from his family and friends. That’s not something she’s wrong to worry about, it IS a direct result of reaper mind control, but Shepard notices it mostly because self-isolation is a very bad thing for her for very different reasons. She’s naturally a more social creature than Saren is, so her mental health is much more dependent on having people she can talk to.

Back to POVs, Anderson is a lot more levelheaded and generally honest than the other two, but he’s got his own problems. Namely, he’s biased. Anderson likes Shepard, because he’s pretty obviously her favorite person (if you want evidence of that, look at how she responds to criticism from Anderson vs criticism from Saren), and who doesn’t like being favored? That means he tends to see her as a better person than she actually is, and often gives her more credit than she deserves. On the flipside, he does not like Saren, because Saren is pretty much constantly a dick to both him and Shepard, so he tends to be more cynical about his motivations and capabilities.

An example of THIS that didn’t make it into the story was the outright confirmation that Anderson doesn’t approve of Shepard/Saren because he thinks Shepard (a certified dumpster fire in reality) is way too good for that evil turian man. Anderson would definitely have given Saren a shovel talk if the two of them had ever made it that far!

And speaking of Saren, he’s definitely the worst narrator of the bunch. Almost every other line in his internal monologue is a straight up lie. I tried to highlight this by having him outright contradict himself several times, but who knows if that came through. I’m pretty sure his self-deceptions in canon are meant to be a result of Sovereign messing with him, but he’s doing a lot of stuff here (i.e. getting significantly attached to a human, attempting to destroy the galaxy) that contradicts his self-image. He’s not really got the resources to properly cope with this, so he lies to himself about it. It’s easier, you know. 

Saren doesn’t have a whole lot of cut content, for the same reason he doesn’t have a lot of POVs - as much fun as it is to write a character that’s lying to themself, it’s kind of a pain to get across an accurate picture of what’s going on when they do that, and also the kind of POV you don’t want to write when they’re not doing something they would lie about. Saren doesn’t lie to himself about what brand of broccoli he’s buying at the corner store, but I don’t want to give the reader the impression they can trust the stuff he says, so if he did get groceries in this fic, he wouldn’t get to narrate it.

I very much wanted the central couple of the fic to stand on even footing (which is most of the reason behind the Shepard+Anderson roleswap - I’m not a huge fan of age gaps). That means that I put a fair bit of effort into establishing that they’re roughly the same level of fucked up. Saren lies to himself pretty much constantly, Shepard lies to everyone else whenever she’s not making a conscious effort to be sincere. Saren is paranoid and hostile (especially to people who are trying to help him!), Shepard likes to provoke people and has no compunctions about manipulating them. Saren thinks the ends justify the means, no matter how many lives those means cost, and Shepard just straight up defaults to murder whenever she’s not sure how to solve a problem (I think she contemplates killing someone three times in this fic, something no other narrator does).

Ironically, this means that without reaper interference, Saren would actually be the more mentally stable of the two of them. Shepard would probably still deal with indoctrination better though - she’s self aware enough to notice when something’s messing with her head, and she wouldn’t rest until either the reaper was dead or she was.

On a less depressing interpersonal note, I had a lot of fun with the pseudo-nuclear family dynamic of Shepard, Saren, Anderson, and Nihlus. Like, obviously everyone here is a grown adult and Anderson and Nihlus both have actual parents, but I had a fun time sort of evoking the idea that Shepard and Saren were co-parenting (co-mentoring?) their respective protegees. Saren is absolutely Anderson’s evil stepdad (step-mentor?)!

I also liked writing Anderson’s major relationships. I wanted to give the impression that he was the Commander Shepard character - the universe revolves around him, even if the story is about someone else. His feelings about Shepard, Saren, and Nihlus are as much the focal relationship of the story as the Shepard/Saren stuff - even though the narrative does hinge more on the latter one. 

Stuff I didn’t like so much - you’ll notice that there’s a lot of stuff that didn’t make it into the story. That’s because I didn’t really start this fic until my assignment was done, which means I wrote all 20,000 words in roughly two weeks (about 40% of it was written in two eight hour car rides). I didn’t really have a chance to go back over the story and revise the plot to align with my original ideas for the story.  Nihlus is really more a conversation device than a character a lot of the time, and if I ever did go back over and rewrite this that would be the first thing I fix. I didn’t have time to get this thing betaed either, since it was scraping so many deadlines, and man would I have loved to have someone else to bounce this story off of before I posted it.

Still, I’m glad I got it done. I’m not kidding in the author’s note when I mention that I’ve been wanting to write the Shepard/Saren tragedy fic for years and years.