#i just want the lecturers to know the details and just How intense she is

[tardis--dreams]

Ok i reported her after she sent me two more emails. It's not gonna do anything but i just really wanted my lecturer to know so-

[rogueddie]

Disabled Steve / Eddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦻

give me a sign

findmeinthewychelm

It was sweet torture the way Steve was pining over him. Robin was sick of listening to him talk about Eddie, but she also hadn’t stopped him yet.

Words : 4,235 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

what would you trade the pain for (i'm not sure)

Library_of_Gage

Steve doesn't bother anyone with his chronic pain; it's something he'd rather keep to himself. And then it spikes in the Upside Down, in front of Eddie Munson, and Steve slowly starts to learn that, sometimes, sharing what hurts does help.

Words : 8,230 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Our Love is Shown in the Letting Go

Xxbottlecapxx

Steve’s mother comes home and has to deal with the fact that she has no idea who her son is, and maybe never will.

Words : 10,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Not Rated

AO3 : x

Who Am I to Say What Any of This Means?

IndigoFudge

Eddie’s eyebrows are raised. He’s speaking deliberately. “My first grade teacher set up a meeting with Wayne and told him she thought I had autism. So Wayne took me to the doctors and it turned out she was right.”

He is still looking at Steve. Oh. Steve’s been staring at him like an idiot for forty seconds instead of acknowledging this important, incredibly personal detail that he has just shared. Steve remembers eye contact––one, two, three––then answers. “That’s cool.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, carefully. “Have you ever been tested? Because I’ve been noticing… When I look at you, I kinda see some signs.”

Words : 7,371 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily (better yet, she wouldn't care)

jewishrat420

Eddie doesn’t really cry about this anymore. He’s long since shed his own personal tears of pity, spent enough time mourning a different life. He’s accepted it, for the most part, doesn’t really give a shit about being normal or whatever. No one’s normal.

But this…Eddie’s not used to this. He’s never had someone hold his face in their hands, look him dead in the eyes and say, “Eddie Munson. For better or for worse, and fuck, I know this is worse, I want to know you.”

Words : 3,988 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

the beginning of a bad joke

alligator_writes

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

Words : 7,083 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I Took The Good Times, I’ll Take The Bad Times (I Take You Just The Way You Are)

steddieeddie

In 1984, Eddie Munson told Steve he was going to marry him one day laying in the quiet confines of Steve’s room.

In 1985, they broke up. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because Steve thought they had to. They spent almost an entire year apart, hurting, wondering about what could have been.

In 1986, Steve Harrington was almost fatally injured in the final attack against The Upside Down, against Vecna. He spent seventy six days comatose, and then almost an entire year in the hospital learning how to be a person again. He learns how to open and close his hands, hold things, and how to feed himself again. Steve learns how to stand, how to walk, going from walker to cane by the time he is allowed to go home.

In 1987, he did just that. He goes home.

It was a slow process. Way slower than Steve wanted it to be, but it was worth it.

Sure, his hands were never going to work the same, there was constant pain in his arms and left leg, and he would never walk without a cane, but at least he’s alive.

He made it.

That was what mattered.

Words : 30,101 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

[live-laugh-lenney]

Idk if you’ve seen g-xix’s posts about Arthur’s boxing days and it has got me on my kneeeees😭😭 like imagine being at an event he’s fighting at as a guest or even the venues first aider👀 u get to wipe the blood from his face and look after him and he’s staring at you while u work and you don’t even notice because ur so focused on making him better and u look up and just make eye contact uuuuuugh!!!!!

stop ittttt...

"you're so pretty," he mumbles softly, "so pretty."

"okay, arthur, how hard did you get hit?"

he cocks a confused eyebrow in her direction, which sent an intense stinging pain across his face from the open wound that was bleeding from behind the hairs of one of his eyebrows, wincing softly before the pain subsided from the way his skin stretched to accommodate his expression. his face was aching; his eyes were sore and watery and his cheeks still felt like they were being hit, head throbbing from the way he'd been punched and knocked back, and his eyebrow was pulsing as blood dribbled down his cheek.

this was a tame injury compared to what she had dealt with before as a volunteer first-aider.

where she was still in university, she was looking for opportunities to help push herself higher in the world outside of her uni walls and that would give her a resumé that would knock the socks off her any of her future employers when she was let free from education. she took up a volunteering job, having been trained in the job beforehand, that involved being able to help people and being there as a lookout if things went sour.

so a split eyebrow was nothing compared to the broken noses she had seen or the fractured eye-sockets that she'd had to send off for further attention so she was glad arthur wasn't badly injured enough to require hospital attention and a stay in a patient's ward.

"i didn't get hit that hard but if you think this is bad then," he leans a little closer in her direction and brings his voice to a hushed whisper, "you should definitely see the other guy."

she snorts out a laugh of amusement and his lips cock up into a grin, that was almost a cocky looking smirk, and she busies herself and her hands by reaching for cotton-wool balls and some disinfectant to soak the material in so she could clear up the dried blood on his skin.

she did know of arthur around university.

she'd bumped into him and his friends a few times on her nights out, when she had no volunteering and had no work to finish before her deadlines, and she was forever walking passed him in the corridors on her way to her lectures and they never shied away from saying 'hi' to each other... she found him cute, in an endearing way... a way that made her want to get to know him a little more.

"i've seen the other guy. i was watching the whole thing," she admits, head dipped down as she focused on soaking the cotton (as well as her fingers) in the disinfectant solution in her hand, "i never knew you were a boxer."

"i needed something to keep myself fit," he shrugs, eyes completely smitten with staring at her; the way she moved so elegantly around the small medical room of the hall they were in, the way she was so gentle with everything she did, how focused she was on her job, "you got the gruesome side to all of this."

"i like helping people."

and, deep down, arthur's heart softened because... of course she did.

when she looked back in his direction, bowl full of soaking cotton-wool balls held tight in her hand, his eyes darted somewhere else in the room. a poster, which detailed the human body, becoming a lot more interesting than being caught watching her.

"arthur-"

"i wasn't-"

"no, i just need you to look directly at me so i can clean the cut," she says softly and he didn't realise just how close to him she was, almost standing between his dangling legs, and the smell of disinfectant was strong in his nose, "i won't bite."

she uses her free hand to guide his face into a better position, under the light so she could see how clean his wound was, and his stubble was sharp against the pads of her thumb and fingers. as she went to look at the bleeding wound, he couldn't help but look at her... eyes making eye-contact and she felt her legs turning into jelly.

"you are so pretty," he whispers softly, "believe me, please."

"arthur-"

"i should get beaten up more often," he says with a cheeky smile, "the first aider is one i'd love to see again." xx

[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، lipstick stamp ،، ⌇ 승철

pairing .ᐟ nerdy!seungcheol × mean!fem!reader genre .ᐟ college au , crush word count .ᐟ 0.7k song rec. .ᐟ fall in love alone - stacey ryan

click clack click clack

the sound of clacking heels fills up the bustling hall, as the red chunky heels steps on the marble floor, leaving trace of her present. it belongs to nobody other than her, the infamous chwe y/n.

with her sharp tongue and sharper intellect, she ruled the academic scene. professors admired her brilliance, but peers tread carefully around her acid wit. beneath her icy exterior, a butterfly lives in her snowy garden.

a guy named choi seungcheol has been her main attention. he was everything she wasn't. a quiet, introverted and intensely focused, he excelled in his studies with a passion that burns the desire in y/n to have him. his faded-orange hair, thick glasses, good baggy fashion sense and habit of pouting his lips when scrabbling in his ever-present notebook only added to his nerdy charm.

or when he rests himself on a tree, closing his eyes and listening to music with wired earphones, as wind gently messes his soft hair. only God knows how heaven he looks in your eyes.

you halt your steps when you reach the study booth, where he likes to spend his time. a grins stamps on your lips, as you confidently walked up to him with a cherry flavored lollipop in your mouth. as the distance gets nearer and nearer, you can actually feel the nervousness take over. damn y/n, just do it!

once you're actually in front of the table he studied, you knock on it as he's too focused on his notebook, unaware of the surroundings. as he started to move his head from the book, to your white lacy tights and up to your face.

the urge to not kiss him when his pouty lips and his doe eyes looking straight into your orbs. Lord, have mercy on me. his thick eyebrows frown, puzzled by your presence.

“yes?”

that one word almost makes you squeal like a giddy girl. you keep your posture straight and cross your arms with the lollipop in your hands. you lean your side on the wall.

“i need your notes from our previous lecture.” you declared, though it was more an order than a request.

“why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “you didn't miss a lecture today.”

“just give them to me.” you snapped, rolling your eyes.

with a sigh, seungcheol handed his notebook that he reads previously. as you took it, his fingers brushed briefly against yours, sending a jolt through you. you turned your heel and marched away, leaving a confused seungcheol staring after you.

later that evening, you sat in your dorm room, seungcheol’s notebook open on her desk. you couldn't help but admire his meticulous handwriting and detailed notes. it was then that you noticed a small, doodled heart in the corner of one page, next to a formula that we had discussed in class. the sight made her smile.

mom, your daughter is really in love right now. you close the notebook and laid on your bed, still smiling like crazy.

gosh , what a man you are, choi.

the next day, you returned the notebook. you found seungcheol in his second favorite spot, library, buried in a stack of books. without a word, you dropped it on the table infront of him. he looked up, surprised to see her.

“thanks,” he said awkwardly.

you nodded and turned to leave, but then paused. a sly smirk pasted on your lips as your hands rummaged through your bag and pulled a tube of bright red lipstick. seungcheol watched, bewildered, as you applied it with practiced precision. before he could say anything, you leaned over and pressed your lips firmly on against the cover of his notebook, leaving a bold, red imprint.

“there,” you said, as your voice sounds softer than usual. “a little trace of mine”

seungcheol stared at the notebook, then at her, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “why… why did you do that?” he stammered.

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “maybe i wanted to leave my mark on what's about to be mine. see you around, cheollie.”

as you walked away, seungcheol was still processing what just happened. the nickname, and the red lips mark on his notebook. he touched the lipstick mark, a smile creep on his face. for the first time, he saw beyond y/n’s harsh exterior to the complex, intriguing person beneath. what have gotten into you, choi seungcheol.

[connieisthesun]

Chemistry and Cadavers - Conrad fisher x reader

Chapter Summary - You, a bright-eyed sophomore college student majoring in biology stumble upon Conrad fisher, an attractive yet forgetful student who happens to forget his pen on his first day of class...

Warnings - Fluff, teasing, super cute tbh haha

*Authors note* - So I've decided to start a new series due to the nonexistent amount of new tsitp fic's here lmao, if you enjoy a like a repost would be appreciated. Let me know if you have any feedback to improve my writing. Enjoy loves!

Chapter 1: Chemistry and Cadavers

The crisp autumn air on the college campus was invigorating, bringing with it the promise of a new academic year filled with possibilities. The campus was alive with the sounds of students hurrying to their classes, the rustling of leaves in the trees, and the distant hum of chatter from the quad. Among the new faces and returning students was Y/N, a bright and ambitious sophomore majoring in biology.

Y/N had always been passionate about the sciences, and this year, she was especially excited about her anatomy and physiology class. Little did she know that her enthusiasm for the subject would lead to a series of events that would change her college experience in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

As she walked into the lecture hall, she noticed the familiar faces of her classmates and scanned the room for an available seat. She spotted a spot in the middle of the room and made her way over, settling into her chair just as the professor walked in.

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor greeted, his voice carrying a tone of authority and excitement. “Today, we’re diving into the intricacies of human anatomy, and I have a feeling this semester is going to be an exciting journey.”

Y/N smiled to herself, her excitement bubbling over as the professor began the lecture. She took out her notebook, ready to absorb every detail of the day’s lesson. As the lecture progressed, she couldn’t help but notice the student sitting a few rows ahead of her, who seemed to be struggling with his notes and the lecture material. He had tousled brown hair, a laid-back demeanor, and an occasional frustrated glance at his notes.

When the lecture ended, Y/N gathered her things and headed out of the lecture hall, intending to grab a coffee before her next class. As she walked through the bustling hallway, she was approached by a friendly voice.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

She turned to see her friend Lila catching up with her. “Hey, Lila! What’s up?”

“I heard you were in the anatomy lecture this morning. How was it?” Lila asked, a teasing smile on her face.

“It was great,” Y/N replied. “I’m really looking forward to this semester. Anatomy is such a fascinating subject.”

Lila’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know, I think you might have a classmate who’s also taking that course. He’s known for being a bit of a mess, especially when it comes to anatomy. His name is Conrad Fisher.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Conrad Fisher? I think I saw him in class today. He seemed to be having a hard time keeping up.”

Lila laughed. “That’s the one. He’s actually a really nice guy, but he’s notorious for needing a little extra help with his studies. If you see him around, you might want to keep an eye out. He’s always borrowing pens or asking for assistance.”

Y/N chuckled. “Noted. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Later that week, Y/N found herself in the anatomy lab for the first time. The lab was a place of intense focus and concentration, with rows of cadaver tables and an array of dissection tools neatly arranged. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of students working together, and the scent of formaldehyde lingered in the air.

Y/N set up her station and began to review the lab manual when she heard a voice nearby.

“Hey, do you have a spare pen?” the voice asked.

Y/N looked up to see Conrad Fisher standing beside her table, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He held up a pen cap, indicating that he had lost the actual pen.

“Sure, here you go,” Y/N said, handing him a pen with a smile.

“Thanks,” Conrad said, taking the pen and looking visibly relieved. “I seem to have misplaced mine again. I swear, it’s like they disappear into thin air.”

Y/N laughed softly. “It happens. You’ll get used to the lab environment eventually.”

Conrad smiled gratefully. “I hope so. I’m Conrad, by the way. I think we’re going to be lab partners for this course.”

“Y/N,” she said, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

As they worked side by side, Y/N found that Conrad’s easygoing nature and good humor made the long hours in the lab more enjoyable. They talked about their classes, shared stories, and found themselves falling into a comfortable rhythm of collaboration. Despite the occasional moments of distraction and light-hearted teasing, they made a great team.

Over the next few weeks, their interactions continued to be marked by playful banter and occasional flirtation. Conrad would often ask Y/N for help with his dissections, and she would gladly oblige, offering guidance and tips with a teasing edge.

One day, as they were working on a particularly challenging dissection, Conrad looked up from his work with a grin. “So, Y/N, do you have any other hidden talents besides being a dissecting wizard?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Well, I can bake a mean batch of cookies, if that counts.”

Conrad’s eyes lit up with interest. “Cookies? Now you’re speaking my language. Maybe I’ll have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

“Only if you promise not to lose any more pens,” Y/N replied playfully.

Conrad laughed, shaking his head. “Deal. I’ll do my best to keep track of my writing instruments from now on.”

Their banter became a regular feature of their interactions, and the chemistry between them was evident to everyone around them. Despite their undeniable connection, they both maintained a façade of casual friendship, much to the amusement of their friends.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling lab session, Conrad and Y/N found themselves sitting on a bench outside the science building, taking a well-deserved break.

“I think that was the most challenging dissection we’ve had yet,” Conrad said, stretching his arms. “I’m glad we made it through.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have to say, your technique is improving. You’re almost as good as me now.”

Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Almost? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As they chatted, a group of their friends approached, and one of them, Sarah, gave them a knowing smile. “You two seem to be getting along quite well.”

Y/N and Conrad exchanged a glance, both of them trying to suppress their smiles. “We’re just lab partners,” Y/N said casually.

“Sure, just lab partners,” Sarah said with a teasing grin. “But everyone can see the chemistry between you two.”

Conrad blushed slightly, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re just friends, honestly.”

Sarah and the others laughed and continued on their way, leaving Y/N and Conrad to their conversation.

“You know,” Conrad said, his tone playful, “it’s funny how everyone is always trying to push us together.”

Y/N shrugged, trying to hide her own smile. “It’s probably just because we spend so much time together. It’s hard not to notice the dynamic.”

Conrad’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, if they’re right, maybe we should just embrace the idea.”

Y/N gave him a playful nudge. “Oh, really? And what would that look like?”

Conrad leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “It would probably involve a lot more teasing, a few more flirtatious comments, and maybe even some impromptu study dates.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds like a lot of work. I think we’re doing just fine as friends.”

“Agreed,” Conrad said, his smile warm and genuine. “But it’s fun to think about.”

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Conrad’s playful flirtation continued, with their friends often teasing them about their obvious chemistry. Despite their mutual attraction and the flirtatious banter, they remained steadfast in their commitment to being just friends.

Their interactions were filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, creating a dynamic that was both enjoyable and endearing. Whether it was borrowing pens, helping with dissections, or sharing jokes, their connection grew stronger with each passing day.

As the semester progressed, Y/N and Conrad found themselves increasingly drawn to each other, their friendship evolving into something deeper and more meaningful. Despite their best efforts to deny their feelings, the chemistry between them was undeniable, and their playful banter only served to highlight the growing connection they shared.

Tag list - @conradfisherswifesstuff @cheezbot @grxnde-dwt @itsshayfr @lanivoid @calpurnia2002

Comment or heart to be added.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 14) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 5.8k

notes: let me know what you think!

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin @jay-is-a-pinguin

For the next few days, Kaz and Y/N let themselves get lost in the simple pleasures of their trip. But the looming task of preparing Y/N to lie to the police hung over them like a shadow. Kaz knew it was time to shift gears.

Sitting on the couch, Y/N watched as Kaz paced back and forth, his mind clearly in strategy mode. He looked like a professor preparing to teach a critical lesson, his sharp eyes focused on the details only he could see. 

Kaz finally stopped pacing and looked at her, his voice calm but firm. “They won’t accuse you of anything, but they’ll want to talk to you. Your ex was abusive, there’s a record of it. You went to the police and the hospital because of him multiple times. Now that he’s taken his own life, they’ll be interested in whether you had any contact, if he was still stalking you, or if you noticed any signs of what he was going to do.”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the couch, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Okay, what should I say?” she asked, her eyes searching his for guidance.

Kaz stood in front of her, his posture confident, like a teacher about to deliver an important lecture. “Tell the truth until the day of my birthday. After that, stick to the story we discussed.”

Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “So, I was getting ready to go to my…” she hesitated, feeling the weight of the words. Kaz raised his brows, urging her to continue. “...my boyfriend’s birthday party, but when he picked me up, we went to the airport instead of the restaurant.”

Kaz couldn’t help the smirk that played on his lips. “And who’s your boyfriend, miss?” he asked, teasingly.

Y/N rolled her eyes annoyed. “Kaz Brekker,” she replied, clearly unamused by how much he was enjoying this. “How much are you liking this? Why can’t we just say we’re friends?”

Kaz leaned back, his expression serious now. “Because it’s less suspicious. Why would a friend just surprise you with a trip abroad?”

Y/N shot him a look. “I don’t know, why would a friend kill someone for you?”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone more intense. “Remember, no unnecessary details. If they talk to you again, you have to be able to say the same things, no doubts, no hesitation.”

She nodded, mentally going over the details again, trying to make the story her own.

Kaz leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers as he asked, “Why didn’t you come back for the funeral?”

Y/N took a deep breath, knowing this was a tricky one. “Well, as I’ve repeatedly told the police, he was very abusive. So, yeah, I’m shocked by what he did, but it wasn’t my place to be there. We broke up a long time ago.”

Kaz’s eyes scanned her face, reading her every expression. “Hm, we’ll work on that,” he muttered, before sitting down beside her on the couch. Y/N immediately rested her head on his legs, seeking comfort in his presence.

For a moment, the seriousness of their situation hung in the air, but Y/N couldn’t help but ask, her voice tinged with worry, “Are we going to be fine?”

Kaz’s expression softened, a rare smile curving his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Of course. Our story is solid. We just need to stick to it.”

He felt her relax a little against him, but he could still sense her anxiety as his hand moved gently through her hair.

“Do you want to take a bath with me? That bathtub looks insanely big,” Y/n suggested, with a smirk.

Kaz had overcome the majority of his issues, but mixing bodies and water seemed like a recipe for a disaster, even if the idea was really tempting. “I don't think I would be able to do it without having a bad panic attack, maybe another time,” he said gently, his voice betraying a hint of regret.

Y/n nodded, understanding. “Can you keep me company?”

They both went to the bathroom, and Kaz studied her intently as she began to undress. The sight of her bare skin always captivated him, but he was careful not to let his gaze linger too long. “Your side looks better,” he observed, noting the fading bruise on her rib.

“Right?” she said, glancing at herself in the mirror. “It feels better too. Maybe he lost his touch,” she joked harshly.

Kaz watched as she immersed herself into the hot water, swearing silently that he would definitely work on solving his problem with water. The steam rose around her, and she hummed in satisfaction, closing her eyes. “Are you sure you don't want to jump in?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting.

“Trust me, if I could, I wouldn't hesitate,” he replied, the longing clear in his tone.

She smiled, eyes still closed. “Do you want to try holding my hand?”

Kaz considered it for a moment, the thought both tempting and terrifying. “Maybe we'll work on that when we get back,” he decided, his voice firm yet gentle.

“Your call, baby. Can you get my vape?”

Kaz nodded and came back with her vape and a bottle of wine, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he saw her eyes light up. He poured her a glass and brought the vape to her lips, letting her take a deep drag.

“You're spoiling me,” she laughed, the sound like music to his ears.

Kaz made a crooked smile, “Told you I would,” he said before taking a few drags himself, settling on the stool next to her.

“We're not dating,” she said, her tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness.

“I know,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

“We never will,” she continued, testing him.

“Alright,” he agreed, his voice steady.

They locked eyes as he brought the vape back to her lips. The intimacy of the moment hung between them, unspoken but palpable. 

“You know, my side is still sore,” Y/n said after a while, her voice low and seductive, “but my mouth...” She licked her lips suggestively, her eyes locked onto his.

Kaz shook his head, feeling a mix of excitement and unease. “The idea feels weird.”

“Why?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, avoiding her gaze. “Do you really like it that much?”

“Seeing grown men squirm and twist under me? Absolutely,” she replied with a smirk, rising from the water and splashing him playfully with her hand.

Kaz chuckled, grabbing a towel and passing it to her. “We should start thinking about going back home.”

“We should,” she whispered, her tone softening as she wrapped the towel around herself.

They settled into bed, the effects of drinking on an empty stomach making them both feel pleasantly lightheaded. Their slow kisses deepened, hands roaming each other’s bodies with a blend of tenderness and urgency.

“Kaz, I want you,” Y/n murmured, her voice breathy with desire.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said against her lips, his concern evident in his tone.

“I don’t care,” she moaned, pulling him closer. “I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“You’re injured,” he reminded her, his hands resting gently on her hips, his concern evident in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll be very careful,” she whispered, her fingers threading through his hair as she guided him closer. “Please, I’ll stay on top.”

Kaz hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with the fear of causing her pain. But the look in her eyes, the way she was holding him, reassured him. He kissed her deeply, their breaths mingling as they moved together, slow and careful.

He was hyper-aware of her every reaction, his hands gliding over her body with a delicate touch. Y/n’s soft gasps and moans encouraged him, her fingers digging into his back as she pulled him closer. He could feel her body responding to him, her movements gentle but insistent. Y/n was naked under the towel, while Kaz remained half clothed. The urgency of having him without even giving the time to undress made him feel desired in a way he never thought could be possible. 

She slowly slid on him, moving without giving herself time to adjust. He held his breath, every fiber of his being focused on her. Her warmth enveloped him, and he felt a surge of raw, primal satisfaction.

“You really don’t like foreplay,” he commented, trying to mask his awe with a teasing tone.

“You noticed?” she laughed, biting his earlobe lightly, sending a shiver down his spine.

Kaz smirked, but his worry never fully dissipated. “Does it hurt?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he paused to look into her eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort.

She shook her head, her lips curving into a reassuring smile. “Enough to keep things interesting.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve expected that,” he murmured, his hands sliding up her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist beneath his fingers. 

Kaz's movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust measured to ensure her comfort. The towel slipped away, leaving her completely exposed beneath him, her skin flushed and glistening in the soft light. 

Y/n’s nails raked gently down his back, his hips rising to meet her rhythm. His body responded eagerly, matching her every move. The heat between them built steadily, their breaths mingling in the intimate space they shared. The urgency and rawness of their connection made every moment electric, every sensation magnified.

Kaz felt a mixture of emotions. The desire to protect her clashed with his primal need to be close to her. He marveled at her strength, the way she embraced the pain and turned it into pleasure. 

“You're so good, love,” she whispered into his mouth, her words sending a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah?” he responded, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. He wanted to believe her, but doubt lingered.

Kaz knew that she was used to doing pretty heavy stuff. He wasn't sure if she was restraining herself with him because she thought he couldn’t keep up, or if she was giving him time to understand how he liked it. The uncertainty pressed heavily on him, making him question his every move.

“Of course, baby,” she said, cupping his face and kissing him gently. Her touch was both tender and reassuring.

“Are you sure?” he asked between heavy breaths, needing her validation more than he cared to admit.

“You're perfect,” she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection. Her praise reassured him a bit, but he couldn’t shake the underlying sense of inadequacy. He wanted to be everything she needed, to meet her every expectation.

As their bodies moved together, Kaz focused on her reactions, seeking to please her in every way he could. Her soft gasps and moans guided him, each sound a small victory that bolstered his confidence. He traced the curve of her spine with his fingers, feeling the slight tremor that ran through her at his touch.

Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, her eyes locked onto his. There was something in her gaze that made his heart race, desire and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both passionate and tender.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered against his mouth, her breath hot and urgent. “Don’t doubt yourself.”

Kaz swallowed hard, her words sinking in. He wanted to believe her, to let go of his insecurities. He deepened the kiss, pouring all his feelings into it. The way she responded, her body arching towards his, made him feel more confident.

“It’s so good,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind.

Her words filled the empty spaces in his heart, giving him a sense of purpose. But a voice in his head kept saying that she was lying, that there was no way she could enjoy that. His mind raced thinking about the screams that her clients made her do, the things he heard her say and ask for while staying outside her room.

She never screamed for him.

“Y/n, wait, I can't—” he said, stopping her hips, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, scanning his face with concern.

“Are you sure that you like having sex with me?” he blurted out, his voice filled with insecurity.

Y/n frowned, clearly taken aback. “What? Of course, Kaz. Why are you asking me that?”

He sighed, feeling the embarrassment burning on his cheeks. “You’re used to all this crazy stuff, and I... I have zero experience.”

“So?” she replied, her tone gentle but firm.

“Are you sure you’re not bored?” he asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

“Did I sound bored?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice carrying both surprise and hurt.

“Well, no, but—” he started, but she cut him off.

“Kaz, oh my god, I’m not faking it. I never would,” she said, her eyes wide with genuine concern. 

Kaz looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of deception, but all he saw was sincerity. He wanted to believe her, but the nagging voice in his head wouldn’t quiet down. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“I’ve heard you with your clients, the things you say, the way you sound,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t help but compare. Rationally, I know, it's stupid, but-” he admitted, feeling the weight of his insecurities.

Y/n’s expression softened as she cupped his face in her hands. “Needing reassurance is not stupid, love. I imagine this could be a bit weird sometimes.”

“It is,” he conceded, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Y/n moved to lay on the bed, gently guiding his head to rest on her stomach. Her fingers combed through his hair soothingly, and he felt a sense of calm wash over him.

“Kaz, I would never fake it, I really like having sex with you. It's completely different from being with a client,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” he asked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her navel.

“Of course. I mean, the mechanics are the same, but emotionally speaking, it's completely different.”

“And why is that?” he probed, seeking more reassurance.

Y/n sighed, her hand continuing to stroke his hair. “Because we care about each other.”

“I care a lot about you,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

“I know, I can see that,” she replied, her voice full of warmth.

“Are you in love with me?” he blurted out, immediately cursing himself for asking such a loaded question.

“Kaz, don’t put me in this situation,” she sighed, closing her eyes as if trying to shut out the weight of the question.

“I want to know, Y/n. You said it to me,” he pressed, his heart pounding.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Why?” he asked, his curiosity and need for clarity pushing him forward.

“I don’t like my answer,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaz hummed thoughtfully, his eyes studying her face. He moved his hand to tangle it with hers, and she held him, a small smile playing on her lips without opening her eyes.

***

Packing to go back home was more chaotic than they had expected. Kaz was darting around the house, retrieving his scattered belongings, while Y/n stood amidst a mountain of clothes and souvenirs.

“I can't believe you're so messy,” Y/n commented, watching him with an amused expression.

“I'm not messy,” Kaz retorted, his tone defensive. “I'm just having a hard time remembering where I left my things. Are you done?”

Y/n glanced at the array of items around her, shaking her head. “I think I need another suitcase.”

Kaz paused, surveying the chaos. “Maybe we shouldn't move in together,” he quipped with a smirk.

“Pity, I was accepting the idea,” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Are you sure you can't put some things in my luggage?” he asked, trying to help her manage the clutter.

“I already did,” she laughed, leaning in to kiss his jaw.

Kaz sighed, trying to formulate a plan to fit all of her stuff into some suitcase they might have to buy. He had to check again for half of his stuff, all in time to not miss their flight, and oh, she was kissing him. “Y/n, let me think for a second.”

She hummed against his neck, her lips sending shivers down his spine.

“Y/n, come on,” he chuckled, trying to focus despite the distraction.

She laughed at his reaction, stepping back to give him some space. “Alright, alright. I'll finish packing.”

Kaz watched her for a moment, a fond smile on his lips. He couldn’t help but admire her as she deftly folded clothes and organized her things. The way she moved, even in the midst of chaos, had a certain grace to it that captivated him.

He shook his head, snapping back to reality. He needed to find his missing items. With renewed determination, Kaz began methodically searching the apartment, checking under beds, behind curtains, and in drawers.

***

When Kaz's car stopped in his parking spot, he still couldn't believe they had managed to catch their flight on time. As he expected, the police were waiting at the airport, and Y/n had been impressive in dealing with them. His arm never left her waist as she talked about the romantic surprise trip he had planned. The officers left, mentioning they might need to talk to her again, but it seemed more procedural than anything serious.

Y/n turned to him, leaning back in the car seat. “Are you sure you still want me around? We've been together for a week.”

Kaz shrugged as he got out. “What's one more night?”

They stumbled into his apartment in a flurry of suitcases, hands, and kisses. The moment felt electric until a voice cut through the air.

“Kaz.”

He froze, looking up. Nina and Matthias were seated on his couch, Nina glaring daggers at him.

“How many people have your keys?” Y/n asked through clenched teeth.

“I swear I'll change the lock,” he sighed, addressing Nina. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, just checking on you,” Nina replied, getting to her feet and crossing her arms.

“Hi, I'm—” Y/n began.

“Oh, I know who you are,” Nina interrupted coldly. “I had a lovely chat with Inej.”

“Of course you did,” Y/n whispered, her eyes narrowing.

“Nina,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“Sorry, Kaz, if we waited for you at your birthday party for hours and then my best friend comes back crying, desperate, saying that you broke up with her and fled the country with another girl. You're lucky I didn't come all the way to where you went to kick your ass,” Nina spat, her eyes blazing with anger.

Kaz rolled his eyes, though he knew she had a point. “Nina, what happened is between me and Inej.”

“I feel pretty involved when you hurt my friend,” Nina's voice was sharp, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“We just came back. Can you spare the scolding for another time?” Kaz pleaded, trying to maintain his composure.

“No,” Nina snapped, stepping closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You don't get to just run away from the mess you made.”

“Nina, it’s not that simple,” Kaz began, but she cut him off.

“It is that simple,” she retorted. “You broke her heart, Kaz. Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” Kaz shot back, his frustration mounting. “But I can’t change what happened.”

“Convenient,” Nina scoffed, crossing her arms. “And now you’re just moving on, pretending like nothing happened?”

“I’m not pretending,” Kaz said through gritted teeth. “Inej and I were over long before this trip.”

Nina's eyes narrowed. “That’s not how she sees it.”

Y/n, who had been standing quietly beside Kaz, sighed heavily. 

Nina turned her fiery gaze on Y/n. “And you. How could you do this? You knew he was in a relationship.”

“I really didn't do anything,” Y/n let out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting to Kaz for support.

“Anything? He was in a relationship. You should have backed down,” Nina accused, her voice rising.

“Are you blaming me?” Y/n scoffed, her own anger bubbling to the surface. “You think I’m the one responsible for their breakup?”

“Yes, you should’ve had some respect,” Nina snapped. “You knew he was with Inej, but you went ahead anyway.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, her temper flaring. “It wasn’t like that. You don’t know the whole story.”

Nina took a step closer, her fists clenched. “Enlighten me then. Because from where I stand, you’re the one who swooped in and ruined everything.”

“Nina, leave her out of this,” Kaz's arm slid protectively around Y/n’s waist, and the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Nina and Matthias.

Nina’s eyes widened with disbelief and anger. “You’re defending her? After everything?”

Kaz tightened his grip on Y/n, his gaze steady on Nina. “Yes, I am. Because this isn’t her fault.”

Nina scoffed, crossing her arms. “How can you say that? She knew you were with Inej.”

Kaz sighed, his expression weary but resolute. “You have no idea of how things went.”

“That doesn’t justify what you did,” Nina shot back, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I know it doesn’t,” Kaz admitted, his voice softening. “And I’ll live with that guilt. But Y/n didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t ‘swoop in.’”

Nina’s anger faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. “And what about Inej? How do you think she feels?”

“Inej deserves someone who can love her fully,” Kaz said, his voice heavy with regret. “I couldn’t be that person. And I’m sorry for that. But blaming Y/n won’t fix anything.”

Y/n looked at Kaz with a small smile. He turned to her, his expression tender. “You don’t have to justify yourself to anyone, least of all to Nina.”

“So you want us to believe that this,” Nina gestured between them, “is serious?”

Kaz hesitated, but y/n passed her arm around his waist, leaning more into him, “Yeah, we're thinking about moving in together.”

Nina’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to process the information. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. Kaz was taken aback by her quick response, feeling a surge of gratitude toward her. Internally, he thanked her for her quick thinking, knowing that this lie might help diffuse Nina’s anger. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly Y/n had stepped into the role of his defender and partner.

Matthias raised an eyebrow, his usually stoic expression showing a hint of surprise. “That’s... a big step.”

“Yes,” Kaz repeated, finding his voice. “It is.”

Nina shook her head, still in shock. “I can’t believe this. You broke up with Inej a week ago Kaz.”

Kaz felt a pang of guilt but steeled himself. “Things change, Nina. What happened with Inej was inevitable. We both knew it.”

Nina's eyes narrowed. “A week ago, Kaz. A week. And now you’re moving in with someone else?”

“That’s none of your business,” Kaz retorted, his tone sharp.

Silence fell in the room, heavy and tense.

“Inej asked me to take her stuff,” Nina said after a long pause, her tone softer but still strained.

Kaz sighed heavily, feeling the weight of Nina's disappointment and his own guilt pressing down on him. “Yeah, I'll show you,” he said quietly, turning to Y/n with a gentle expression. “Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah, go, don't worry,” Y/n replied with a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Unless Nina is scared of leaving her boyfriend alone with me.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed at Y/n’s teasing remark. “Oh, my boyfriend certainly doesn’t go for cheap ones like you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing on her lips as she looked for her vape in Kaz’s pocket “You’d be surprised. And cheap? Really? You have no idea of how expansive I am.”

Obviously, Nina, who had no idea of what y/n job truly was, wasn’t able to thoroughly understand the joke.

Kaz interjected, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Let’s not make this any more uncomfortable than it already is.”

Y/n shot a look at Kaz, her smirk still in place. “If she can go around insulting me, I can’t see why I shouldn’t defend myself,” she replied candidly, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Please, love, let it go,” Kaz asked, sighing, his tone pleading. Y/n rolled her eyes, but Kaz could see the amusement flickering in her expression despite the tension.

Nina scoffed and turned towards Kaz’s bedroom, her footsteps echoing through the apartment as she headed to retrieve Inej’s belongings. Kaz exchanged a look with Matthias, who gave him a sympathetic nod before following Nina.

When they returned with Inej’s things, it was clear that Nina was far from letting the issue drop. She glared at Kaz, her arms crossed defiantly. “I still don’t understand how you could hook up with her with Inej’s clothes still in your wardrobe.”

Y/n, seemingly unfazed, interjected without lifting her eyes from her phone, “Do you want me to draw you a picture?”

Nina’s jaw tightened, clearly annoyed by Y/n’s nonchalant response. Kaz stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. “Nina, you have everything now. Let’s talk about this another time.”

Nina shot a sharp glance at Y/n before turning on her heel and storming towards the door. Matthias followed closely behind her, casting a brief look back at Kaz and Y/n, his nod a silent acknowledgment of their situation.

“Thanks for handling that,” Kaz said sincerely, a note of gratitude in his voice. “And for letting them think we’re in a serious relationship.”

Y/n looked up from her phone, a small, amused smile touching her lips. “Anytime, love,” she replied softly, her tone playful as she settled her head on his lap. “I figured it would be easier than explaining how things really are.”

Kaz chuckled softly, running his fingers gently through her hair. “You’re right. It spares us a lot of unnecessary explanations.”

They sat together in the quiet of the apartment, the tension of the evening slowly dissipating. Kaz appreciated Y/n’s willingness to play along for the sake of defusing the situation, even if it meant leaving Nina and Matthias with the impression that their relationship was more serious than it actually was. He glanced down at Y/n, now scrolling through her phone, then felt his phone buzz with a text from Jesper: ‘Talked to Nina, can I come over?’

Kaz sighed, typing back, 'Sure, Y/n is here. Use your keys.'

When Jesper arrived, Y/n was already asleep, her face buried in Kaz’s stomach while he gently played with her hair. The sight brought a small smile to Jesper’s face as he quietly took a seat across from them.

“How was the trip?” Jesper whispered, careful not to wake Y/n.

“We managed to have fun,” Kaz replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Nina said you’re moving in together,” Jesper said, his voice laced with curiosity.

“It’s not true, we just wanted her to stop scolding us,” Kaz explained, his eyes focused on Y/n’s peaceful face. “I asked her, and she said no.”

“You what?” Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise.

“She didn’t exactly say no. I think I can convince her,” Kaz murmured, a hint of determination in his voice.

“You really want this? Live together?” Jesper asked, his tone skeptical.

“Why not?” Kaz shrugged, his gaze still on Y/n.

“I don’t know, because you broke up with your girlfriend a week ago? After years?” Jesper’s voice held a note of incredulity.

“Okay, so how much should I wait?” Kaz asked sarcastically, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. “What’s the right time, Jes? Since everyone seems to know what’s best for me.”

Jesper sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just worried about you, Kaz. You’ve been through a lot.”

“I appreciate that, Jesper,” Kaz said softly. “But I need to figure this out on my own.”

Jesper studied his friend for a moment, seeing the sincerity in Kaz’s eyes. “If she makes you happy, then I’m all for it. Just... take it slow, okay?”

“What’s this fixation about taking things slow that everyone has?” Kaz scoffed, annoyance creeping into his voice. “I tried slow. Look how it ended. Maybe it’s time to be a bit less cautious.”

Jesper looked at him thoughtfully. “She’s changing you.”

Kaz shook his head, a small, incredulous smile playing on his lips. “She doesn’t even want a committed relationship. These are all my ideas. y/n is just bringing them out.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “So, all this talk about moving in together, that’s you?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Kaz admitted, his gaze drifting to Y/n. “I want to see where this goes. I’m tired of holding back, of second-guessing everything. With her, it feels different.”

Jesper nodded slowly, absorbing Kaz’s words. “Different how?”

Kaz took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he looked at Y/n’s sleeping form. “She doesn’t judge me. Well, she does judge me, but in a good way? I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t expect me to be someone I’m not. And she’s not afraid to call me out on my bullshit. She makes me feel... real.”

Jesper's eyes softened, understanding the weight of Kaz's words. "Real, huh? That’s not something you hear every day. Especially from you."

Kaz chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to play with Y/n’s hair. “I know. It’s strange. With her, I don’t feel like I have to put up a front.”

Jesper smiled, feeling a sense of relief. “That’s good, Kaz. Really good. But you know, you don’t have to rush things. Just because you feel this way doesn’t mean you have to dive headfirst into everything.”

“I get that, Jes. But I’ve spent so long being cautious, being careful. Maybe it’s time to take some risks,” Kaz said, his voice resolute. “With Inej, I was terrified of screwing up. I was always walking on eggshells, afraid she’d leave at any moment. I was so focused on not making mistakes that I lost sight of what I wanted. But with Y/n…,” he chuckled softly, a mix of amusement and frustration in his tone, “we’ve already screwed up everything we could. We fought, we made mistakes, we patched things up, and then we messed up again. And through all of it, we’re still here.”

Jesper leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So, it’s like you’ve already been through a lot, and you’re still standing?”

“Exactly,” Kaz agreed, his tone lightening. “There’s a certain freedom in knowing we’ve faced some things and come out the other side. It feels real.”

“I know,” Kaz said softly, his eyes drifting back to Y/n’s sleeping form. “She’s not what I expected, but she’s what I want.”

Suddenly, Y/n stirred and mumbled, “Can you go have this heart-to-heart conversation somewhere else? I was sleeping.”

Kaz grinned, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’ll keep it down.”

Y/n sighed, her eyes still closed. “Just... less existential crises and more cuddling, please.”

“I’ll head out,” Jesper said, standing up. “Get some rest, both of you.”

Kaz nodded. “Thanks, Jes. See you tomorrow.”

Getting back to their usual lives proved to be more challenging than either of them anticipated. Y/n had to practically beg Kaz to take her back to her own house. Even then, he only agreed on the condition that she left most of the items she bought during their trip at his place.

“Goodnight,” Jesper replied, making his way to the door and closing it quietly behind him.

***

As they stood outside her building, their farewells took on an intensity that suggested they might not see each other for years. They were pressed against his car, hands and lips exploring with an urgency like they were about to part forever.

“Sorry,” a woman’s voice cut through their heated embrace. Y/n and Kaz looked up to find a middle-aged woman staring at them with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

“Yeah?” Y/n asked, puzzled as she pulled away slightly, still wrapped in Kaz’s arms.

“Are you one of the girls that live on the third floor?” The woman’s tone was sharp, her eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” Y/n replied, her brow furrowing.

The woman’s expression hardened. “The noise from your apartment is unbearable. Is it true? Do you have sex for money? Are you really prostitutes?”

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. “What?” she asked, incredulity lacing her voice.

“You heard me,” the woman said, her finger now pointing accusingly. “Is it true?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Do you want to book an appointment?”

The woman’s face reddened in shock. “No!”

“Then no, it’s not true,” Y/n said, her tone dripping with amusement and defiance. The woman muttered something under her breath and walked away, shaking her head and casting dark looks back at them.

Y/n sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping. “I guess we’re changing apartments sooner than we thought.”

Kaz, ever quick to seize an opportunity, leaned in closer. “You know…”

Y/n cut him off with a heavy sigh. “I would still need a place to work, Kaz.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Or…”

Y/n crossed her arms defensively. “You know I can’t even begin to consider doing this”—she gestured between them—“if you don’t accept my job.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips despite the tension. “That’s not a no,” he said, his tone light yet thoughtful, clearly enjoying the banter.

Y/n shook her head, a small, amused smile playing on her lips despite the uncomfortable situation. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said, her voice carrying both warning and fondness.

Kaz chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. His eyes sparkled with a combination of affection and mischief as he leaned closer. “Oh, I’m sure that tormenting you is going to work,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

Y/n arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by his persistence. “And how do you figure that?”

Kaz’s eyes softened, the playful glint in them turning more tender. “I can be very determined, and very annoying.”

Y/n met his gaze, with a smile, “And I can be very patient.” she said before kissing his cheek and entering the building.

[reina-tries-2-write]

The Space Between Sounds

Chapter 3: Echoes of Frustration

SYNOPSIS: Your first week at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech isn't going how you imagined it would. You are struggling to keep up with your classmates and understand what anyone is trying to teach you. What are you going to do?

WC: 2K

PREV - MASTERLIST - NEXT

You had breakfast by yourself today but ran into Tired Guy in the hallway on your way to the classroom. He gave you a smile and a wave before gesturing for you to walk with him. He didn’t say anything to you the whole time, but his quiet company was nice.

You figured he was just being polite out of pity, like all the other strangers who were nice to you.

Blond Guy caught up with the two of you in the hallway and you all walked into the classroom together.

The girl and panda are already there when you arrive and you see three empty desks between them.

Blond Guy automatically walks over to the one right next to Panda and the two begin chatting. You look over at Tired Guy, not wanting to take the spot he usually sits in, but he smiles and gestures for you to pick. Hesitantly sitting down in the middle desk, you flash him a look that asks if it’s okay that you’re sitting where you are. He replies with a wide smile to reassure you it is, and you relax into the wooden chair.

****************************************************

I ended up sat next to Y/N in the classroom today and flashed her an encouraging smile. She looked extremely nervous, and I couldn’t exactly blame her. The curriculum could be intense sometimes and not being able to hear Gojo’s lecturing was definitely going to be a challenge for her.

I made sure to take extra detailed notes just in case she needed them at any point and decided to spend the next couple of days revising my notes from the past month that she had missed. I didn’t want her to be even more behind than she already was and hoped I could help when and if she needed it.

She looked pretty confused the couple times I peeked over at her during the lecture which only reinforced my assumption that she wasn’t picking up on everything Gojo was saying.

I heard her fingers tapping on the keys of her laptop rapidly as she clearly struggled to keep up and I noticed she had a lot of blank spaces and question marks where I had notes.

I was definitely going to help if she asked.

****************************************************

Gojo comes in a few minutes later and begins to lecture. The classwork is nothing like you expected and is a lot faster paced than you would have liked. You really struggle to keep up with his speaking, particularly because he has a tendency to turn his back to you while continuing to talk.

You almost raised you hand a couple times, having written your question on a stray piece of paper but by the time you were ready to ask, Gojo had clearly moved on from the topic. The pace of the class was fast, and you were barely keeping up.

There were tons of question marks and blank spaces in your notes by the time the lecture ended, and you realized you were only getting about sixty percent of the information after peeking over at Blond Guy’s notebook. He had a lot more written down.

The five of you were dismissed for your lunch break before training. Everyone went off to the cafeteria style area that served meals for anyone who lived on the campus, and you trailed behind, not really knowing how to interact with anyone and feeling particularly meek and left out.

After picking up your tray of delicious smelling food, you found a place to sit in the corner by yourself. The food tasted just as good as it smelled, and you were pleasantly surprised by the quality. You observed the others from afar as you ate, watching their interactions and feeling quite left out due to how much fun they were seemingly having. But you knew you would just slow down the conversation and become a social burden if they invited you anyway.

Y/N sat by herself at lunch today and I decided to leave her be for now. She was clearly overwhelmed by class and a social interaction, which was obviously difficult for her, would only contribute to that.

I felt bad for letting her sit alone but Yuta and Panda came to the same conclusion which helped me feel better about it.

“Do you wanna invite her over?” Panda asks after looking over his shoulder at Y/N.

“I think she just needs some space. Class was a lot for me today so I imagine it was a lot for her.” Yuta answers, empathetic as always.

I nod my head in agreement along with Maki who wasn’t really contributing to any conversation about Y/N. I know it wasn’t anything personal, Maki is just wary around new people.

I looked over Maki’s shoulder quite often as we ate, quietly observing Y/N. She looked really defeated and would clearly zone out a little bit here and there, her utensil frozen in midair or eyes a bit glassy.

I wished more than anything I could just tell her I understood how she felt. But I can’t exactly talk, and she can’t exactly hear. So where did that leave us?

****************************************************

You went back to the dorms to change into some workout clothes because the next thing on the schedule was training which you were particularly nervous about. Despite working with Edo for six years, he never taught you how to spar or wield a weapon. Some of training was student led when Gojo wasn’t teaching and today, the girl was instructing.

You struggled to keep up with her instructions with the bow staff and you ended up fumbling around like an idiot with the wooden pole. You were so bad in fact, that you managed to hit yourself in the back of the head with the damn thing.

Naturally, your loud noise of pain and surprise caught everyone’s attention which was exactly what you needed in that moment— everyone staring at you with the pole on the ground and you rubbing the pained area.

After you hit yourself a couple more times, making a knot on the back of your head, she clearly tried to slow down for you but everyone else knew what they were doing so she couldn’t walk you through it step by step like you actually needed. She called a break, but you knew it was specifically for you to take a breather. You were getting really frustrated and upset with yourself.

Why can’t you do something so simple? I didn’t look that hard and there weren’t very many steps, but you just couldn’t figure it out to save your life.

You put the bow staff aside and tightened the laces on your shoes before stretching a bit in preparation for a run around the track. You were good at running and it gave you time to think and process your emotions.

You pushed yourself as fast as you could keep pace, the vibrations from your feet drumming on the red track drowned out the buzzing and humming of the cursed energy around you, helping you clear your mind. At least here, running around the track, you were finally in control of something. Your body would listen and could do what you asked.

Ugh, why couldn’t Edo have taught you at least a little bit on how to fight? Sure your technique was out of control for a long time but still. Even a couple lessons would have helped you not look like an incompetent idiot. That was totally helping your whole fitting in thing. They don’t know how to communicate with you and clearly aren’t trying. Or are too scared to. Why couldn’t Mari and Kai be here with you? They’d interpret for you— advocate for you. But here you were, alone in your world of almost silence, completely out of your element.

Three laps in, the girl flags you down and you slow your pace as you approach.

“You ready to get back at it?” She asks as you get close enough to read her thin lips.

You simply shake your head and pick up your pace again as you pass her. You really couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the stupid staff right now.

She gave you an odd and almost disapproving look before she continued teaching the others while you ran the track.

Great. She’s mad.

You ended up spending the rest of the allotted training period running, doing countless lap and pushing your body to its limits.

You did your best to repeat Edo’s encouraging words in your head. That your deafness wasn’t a limitation, just something you needed to find adaptations to. That you were stronger than you thought you were. That you were more than capable. That you could do it. But his words just didn’t seem to help as much as when you would see them signed on his rough, calloused hands.

This was going to be a lot harder than you imagined it would. But you were going to do your best.

****************************************************

Y/N’s struggles didn’t end in the classroom and unfortunately it looked like she had next to no experience with any weapon. Maki was teaching today and was surprisingly empathetic toward Y/N, slowing down a lot more than she normally would have and calling a break after Y/N hit herself in the head with the staff.

After an understandable huff of frustration, Y/N tossed the staff aside and began to do laps around the track. I watched her make a full lap as we took our break and she was a lot faster than I expected. She had seemingly set a good pace and was making good time around the track. I was fast but I might struggle to keep up with her.

“What’s all that about?” Maki asks, crossing her arms after gesturing to Y/N on the track.

“She’s frustrated.” Panda answers, a small frown on his face.

“Well sure but she doesn’t have to sulk.” Maki counters, brow raised.

“I think you’re forgetting she can’t hear anything you’re telling her, slow or not.” Yuta pipes up a bit timidly but saying what I would have.

I can’t exactly blame her for taking a break. Staffs are hard and I’ve gotten frustrated even listening to Maki’s instructions.

I wonder what’s going on in her head.

Five or six laps in, after declining Maki’s offer to resume training, I watched her face scrunch up in pain. Emotional or physical, I couldn’t tell. Probably a mix of both. To my surprise, she ran the rest of the allotted training time, which was quite a while. She clearly needed to vent her feelings and I really couldn’t blame her.

I’d be frustrated enough to run laps if I wasn’t able to keep up in class, but she was struggling with training on top of that too. I couldn’t imagine how she was feeling right now.

****************************************************

Unfortunately for you, your struggles didn’t end on the first day and the rest of your week was extremely difficult. You would spend hours in the library in the evenings, trying to catch up on the material you missed, desperate to catch up.

Training was arguably worse and you ended up getting frustrated and having to walk away a lot. You would do laps around the track or go into the gym to run on the treadmill when you were particularly frustrated so no one would see the tears slipping down your face. You were barely keeping up and were exhausted at your efforts to try and stay on top of things.

You knew you couldn’t ask questions since you’d only slow down the lecture or training session for everyone else and you didn’t want to be a burden to everyone.

Outside of class and training, you kept to yourself, mostly busy with trying to keep up, but even in your free time, you didn’t really interact with anyone.

You did finally start to catch onto the classwork to your relief, but you still had to work to catch up.

You were exhausted and discouraged at you experience here so far. But you trudged on, motivated by your memory of Edo and all the time he’d spent preparing you for this.

You were gonna do it for him.

[azurlily]

Day 6 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. This yandere is extremely creepy in the sense that it's sort of non-con, but not at all at the same time. I also think Sevika is naturally a very intense almost yandere, so this isn't like the others. You'll see.

Also a reminder to everyone this is the last month you can request a specific type of reader for free. After this month it becomes commission work. Ask any questions in either DM or on my asks/requests.

Sevika gets pissed when you go out on a mission with Jinx. She teaches you how to obey orders.

Yandere!Sevika SMUT

There are many dumb things that you can do in your lifetime. Stealing from someone important, lying about your job details, and worst of all pissing Sevika.

How did this even happen? Well you and Jimx have been getting more buddy buddy. So...why not go up to Piltover with her?

You told Sevika about your plans, she insisted you stay home. You told her it wasn't a big deal, and that it'd be good for you and Jinx to get along.

"No, and that's final. Your aren't going anywhere princess, so don't even try. Besides, you're in better condition, and our relationship has been doing better. Let's not ruin it."

Sevika and you had been fighting these past couple months. She wouldn't apologize for taking you from your house suddenly. She said it was just because she wanted fo see you. It took about 2 weeks for her to apologize and when she did, it wasn't very conventional. For her at least.

"Yes- flowers. They're yours, I-uh. I apologize."

That's all she told you before forcing you into a hug. Sevika only apologizes once in a blue moon. The apology ended in sex, of course.

Anyway, she gave you a bad vibe when she looked at you like that. Sevika for the life of herself would never hurt you, but she would intimidate. Sevika loving you basically secures you safety.

You fought with her saying that Jinx isn't a child and that neither are you. You both can do what you want. She rolled her eyes and slapped you ass.

"Mhm, you ain't a kid, but you act as stupid as one. Now, no going with her, I'm serious."

You asked her why and she kissed you on your forehead and left. You didn't get an answer and now you were frustrated. So, of course, knowing it'll blow up in your face later.

You and Jinx were almost caught. You got grazed by multiple bullets, and were in a good bit of pain. You were in a lot of pain, and Jinx felt like an ass for taking you with her.

When you two got back Jinx was teln by Silco for a "short" lecture. You laid on the bed Sevika and you share when you come over.(or when she abducts you) She came in about an hour later, she'd thought she was getting a small moment of peace.

"Oh- you're back. Listen about earlier with the whole Jinx thing. I'm not gonna say it, but I'll take you out- HOLY SHIT!"

She stood there for a second, trying to figure out- what the hell happened? It took her a minute and then it hits her. You fucking idiot.

Sevika thinks about how badly you're hurt, obviously there had to be more than one person. This was more than likely a surprise attack, which was cowardly and not something she was all into.

She imagined for a second the blood she's going to have on her hands later. It's going to be a lot, she intends to bathe in it. How dare some Piltover scum hurt you!?

She doesn't say anything and stares at you for a moment. She turn around and leave the room, only to come back with bandages.

Sevika gives you a cold stare and forces you up. She knows it hurts, as it should. She's pissed, and you dealing with the pain is her way of saying fuck you without opening her mouth. She refused to talk while fixing you up, she knows if the did the only words she'll be saying are: who and why?

She watches you wince and whimper, she sees you eyes glaze over in tears and watches as you shake in pain.

"It hurts, dont it? Well good. Now you know why I didn't want you going out with Jinx, she's a damned trouble maker."

Sevika was finally able to say something without straight up yelling. She watches your reactions, sees the fear, anger, embarrassment, and finally you start to cry.

She watches you cry for a good second, she moves you robotic arm up and pats your head. Then she grabs your hair and tilts your head up roughly.

"I try, I really do, but you seem really intent on pissing me off. So, this behavior needs to be punished. I'm giving you the choice on the punishment, it's easier for me. You have two choices, overstimulation or edging."

You groan as her mechanical hand squeezes your hair. Sevika is enjoying this, and evidently so are you. You choose overstimulation, it's better than being denied. At least you get what you want, even if you get too much of it.

Sevika stands up, putting the bandages down and looking at you with a glare. You know the drill, and in situations like these it's best not to brat off. You begin to undress, keeping your underwear and bra on. Sevika likes to take those two peices of clothing off specifically.

You watch her flex her mechanical arm, giving you a disgustingly smug smile.

"Lay back."

You lay back, putting your arms over your eyes. You feel cool metal run up and down your thighs. A second, warm hand unclasps your bra from me front/back. She didn't need to see her to see the smug look. She knows just how to handle you.

"Hands up, I want you to watch."

You do as Sevika commands and move your arms above your hands. She warns if you try to stop her she will tie you up. Her mechanical hand slowly rubs your thighs, she grips it roughly. Deep red marks starting to form. You look at her, tears in your eyes.

"Nuh uh, I don't wanna see them tears. You have brought this upon yourself, so lay back and- safeword. If...you need to."

Sevika pulls your thighs apart, opening them widely. Her warmer hand moved from groping me to rubbing on my thighs. She lowers her head, pressing it against my thigh. She hums quietly, you can feel the vibrations, shaking slightly you look down at her.

Her eyes are a beautiful, silvery grey, you couldn't stop staring. She notices and gives you thighs a tight squeeze, the smirk never once fading.

"My, my, my, you're shaking. I wonder, are you as exited down there too? Well? Are you slut?"

Sevika doesn't hold back on the insults, maybe the praise, but she loves to degrade you. Sevika runs her mechanical finger up and down your panties, the wetness and slicks becoming more apparent.

She growls, oh god. Sevika, no longer being able to take it, practically tears your panties off. She originally intended to come home and take you out, then she'd probably end up fucking your brains out in some alleyway in Piltover. She's been pent up all day thinking about it. Now she can fully relax, and take good action on you.

Sevika moves her head until her face is just hover over your pussy. You groan and whimper when she doesn't start. You didn't agree to be teased, dammit! That's why you chose this option!

"Oh hush. You'll get what you want, princess."

God that nickname turns you on, plus feeling her hot breath against you only makes things worse. You grind you hips up trying, hoping, to get some sort of friction. When Sevika slaps you thigh, hard enough to leave a mark. You know to stop, for not at least.

Finally Sevika herself is tired of waiting too, she presses her tounge into you. The way you squirm, feeling her hot, long tounge tear you open. It does something to her, in a way you will never understand.

She grabs both of your thighs, pulling you so you're hips are right on her face. You wrap your legs around her head, squeezing harshly as she eats you out. Sevika goes from small licks, to sucking on your clit, to pushing her tounge inside you. She does everything she can to hear you scream, and scream you do.

How can you not? This woman is skilled with her tounge in every way, she knows just how to tease you, and just how to make you cum in minutes. That's exactly what she's aiming for now, she wants to see your freshly fucked face, as soon as possible.

Sevika doesn't pull back when you begin rocking your hips, on the contrary. She tries pulling you closer, although you can't really get any closer. As you're stomach begins to tighten and your breathing begins to quicken. You both know what's coming, you, to be more specific.

As you feel piping hot bliss rush over you, you shake and spasm. Sevika doesn't let up though. No, in fact she continues as your orgasm begins to slowly die down. That's when the fun really starts.

Sevika can feel you fighting, slapping, pushing hitting. She said not to use your hands, but she knows you cant help it. You're a dumb slut, and sluts don't know how to think. Especially not you.

You start grabbing and pulling on Sevikas hair, you knew this was the outcome. Didn't stop you from acting like you were innocent. Doesn't matter anyway, the more you push, and pull, and bite. The more fun Sevika is having. You can practically feel her grinning.

You scream and cry, feeling yourself build up once more. Your hips spasming uncontrollably, your entire body was shaking. You knew it was only a matter of time before you came for the second time. After that she'd keep going until you passed out.

You really are stupid, but that's okay. Sevika always cleans up your messes, and after she finishes up with you. She's heading to Piltover to rip some heads off, she might even bring you a souvenir.

[frazzledsoul]

It's generally left out in the annals of bad behavior/infidelity in the Gilmore Girls canon, but I just want to review the details of Lorelai's "situationship" with Twilight Dad in season 3 when she is in the midst of lecturing Jess and Rory on proper boyfriend/girlfriend etiquette.

Lorelai meets Alex (aka Twilight Dad) on 3.11, which aired on January 21. She and Alex are third wheels when Sookie meets up with an old friend and accidentally sets up a date with him (this takes place during the episode where Rory and Paris fence and have intense sexual tension). I think he asks her out during this episode.

One week later, on 3.12 (airing on February 28) Lorelai and Alex have a coffee date. They discuss the coffee shop he's opening and his two kids who he shares custody with his ex. He suggests a fishing date, and Lorelai ropes Luke into teaching her how to fish. Bear in mind that she has known Luke has crushed on her for the better part of two years.

Anyway, after this incident, Luke decides to give up on Lorelai and asks Nicole out.

The next episode is 3.13, which is the flashback episode. It airs on February 4. This is Luke and Nicole's first date. Nicole definitely does not spend the night.

3.14 airs on February 11. This is Swan Song, where Lorelai is antsy about Rory and Jess possibly fucking, he gets beaked in the eye by the ghost of Shane, they fight, and at the end of the episode Alexis makes a way too realistic moan into Milo's mouth and Rory goes home and tells Lorelai that she's totally going to do Jess at some point.

So Alex and Lorelai have been going out for three weeks, and they decide to go away together with Sookie and Jackson. Sounds kind of serious. It's also mentioned in this episode that in the one week he's been dating Nicole Luke has been on a bunch of overnight trips to New York and seen a bunch of Broadway plays with his girlfriend. I guess we're supposed to assume there's a time jump here because there's no way he did all that within a week.

I'll also point out here that even though Luke mentions he interrupts Rory and Jess every ten minutes so they don't get around to having sex, if he's also making overnight trips to New York they're probably being left alone in the apartment at night quite a bit. Pair that with the offscreen "movie nights" we hear about later and yeah, uh, I think we can figure out what is taking place because no way is that going on in Lorelai's house unless it's also happening while she's out with Alex.

3.15 is February 18, the hockey episode. Jess doesn't call Rory to arrange a date and Lorelai lectures him on his terrible boyfriend behavior. Then he shows up with hickey tickets (and then some!) and I'm guessing Rory's virginity became fairly technical in the car afterwards.

3.16 is the episode where Paris is rejected from Harvard, which airs on February 25. Lorelai is delighted to know that Rory has not actually had sex and that she has "the good kid". She also makes out with Max and then tells Rory all about it and when Rory asks about poor Twilight Dad, Lorelai says "I don't know." I'm thinking you really should not be giving lectures on morality and proper relationship etiquette, hon. Also two weeks ago the relationship was serious enough to include an overnight weekend, but now it doesn't matter? Huh.

So let's skip ahead to Keg. Max, which is three episodes and two months later, which airs on April 25. I'm assuming there actually was a time jump between Luke and Nicole's first date and the swan episode and these episodes actually took place much closer together than they aired, as there's a lot of stuff going on with Luke finding out Jess is skipping school, steals his car to force him to go, and Jess finally being told he isn't graduating that seems like it would take place much closer in time. Anyway, it seems that Lorelai concludes that her relationship with Twilight Dad is over, because "it's become more intermittent". Does she call him and ask them if their relationship is over? I think we all know the answer to that one. Lorelai tries to push herself on Max after he says no and acts like she's the one that's been affronted when he shoves a table between them. I think there was supposed to be a parallel between Lorelai and Jess crossing boundaries in this episode, although I'm not sure why Lorelai did what she did for any reason other than she felt like it.

I really feel someone who behaves in this manner should not be lecturing her teenage daughter or her boyfriend about what a real relationship looks like, nor should she be evaluating who or who isn't "the good kid" based on what she's been doing. It appears Alex was just cheated on and dropped without explanation as the relationship was getting serious. Rory was fully aware of what was happening and further got the message that it is okay to do this sort of thing if an ex boyfriend enters the picture because if he was yours first, it's okay to cheat with him whenever you feel like it. I'm sure that's not something she's going to take to heart or anything.

Anyway, fair well Twilight Dad. I'm sure you'll have more interesting adventures in the PNW from now on.

[strawbeerossi]

Salt In Open Wounds

This is for @tobias-hankel’s pre-whumptober collection!

Bad Thing: Torture

Bad Person: Ex-Partner

Content/Warnings: Cursing, unnamed abusive ex. bounces between therapy appointment and past abduction, past trauma, mention of guns and knives, mentions of Tobias Hankel, physical abuse, torture, branding (with a cattle iron), hopelessness, general angst, PTSD, depression, murder, blood, psychological torture, mild gore.

Word Count: 5.5K

Find it on AO3 || Masterlist || Requests

I’m no better than the CM writers for this. Also I got a little carried away with writing this.

“Spencer, I’d like to talk about what you’ve been through, if that’s alright.” The woman across from Spencer spoke up. This was his sixth session since the incident, however it was like he could never fully open up. Traumatic events were capable of taking someone’s voice, in his case it was severe. He’d been digging his nails into his hands just discussing the outer details, not wanting to dive straight into the cesspool of darkness he’d been exposed to. He wanted to avoid it for as long as he could. It wouldn’t be that easy though, he had nothing else to use as a shield. He’d explained all the details surrounding his pain, now he had to talk about it.

“I know it’s going to be very hard.” Marianne, his therapist, spoke. “I just want you to know that we can take this as slow as you’d like. There will be future sessions.” She gently reminded me. The once bright and cheerful doctor had been chipped away over his fifteen year career with the BAU, his year of hell broke him further. “No, no.. I uh, I need to talk about it at some point.” Therapy was mandatory, so it wasn’t like he’d gotten any other choice but to sit there. “I just, I uh, I don’t know how to begin..” 

“Why don’t you start with the first night?” 

*** 

Spencer was excited, taking a much needed break from his job at the FBI to go on sabbatical.There was a lecture circuit for Criminal Justice related classes, he was excited to take over the course for Criminology. Marbury University had recommended him for the job due to his exceeding pass rate for his class. He didn’t have the confidence to tell them it was because of the fact he was an attractive older male and he captured attention from young women and men alike. 

It was silly, really. As a younger man, he was more used to people looking at him like he was an alien. He was socially awkward, his demeanor being one like a skittish cat. The years passed and he gained confidence, little by little. With that confidence, he began to lose the innocence that he once had. Tobias Hankel chipped away at him, getting him addicted to dilaudid as well as subjecting him to torture. After him, Spencer’s life was never the same.

Prison was the boiling point. Even being there for a few months, it began to eat away at him. He’d watched a friend die who he worked so hard to protect, he’d been subjected to beatings, as well as stabbing himself with a shiv to get himself locked into solitary confinement due to the fact the inmates knew of his status of a federal agent. The day JJ told him he was going home, he was relieved. 

Until he had to deal with Cat Adams yet again, the woman using Lindsey Vaughn to abduct his mother, which sent them on a wild goose chase. It ended with Diana safe and sound, yet he never thought that he could experience that much anger and hatred. He’d planned on choking Cat to death in the interrogation room. Thank God for JJ, the one who managed to bring him out of his intense fit of rage.

He was trying to fix his life again, bring back the past version of himself that he yearned to be. A young man in the world who had so much promise, so much dedication. Now he was older, he was aware that he had so much to lose.

It was Friday morning when he left the office after giving Emily his paperwork for sabbatical, requesting a year of leave to pour himself into his passion of teaching the future of the bureau as well as law enforcement as a whole. The drive was gonna be an hour, so he felt like he’d been prepared enough, not being someone who was particularly fond of driving. 

The convention center reminded him of the places that he and Penelope would go to for their numerous conventions. Just the memories made him smile, enjoying the parts of his past that he loved to relive in his mind. Eidetic memory was a blessing and a curse, that was the bottom line of it all. Grabbing his suitcases from the trunk of his car, he was heading into the hotel where he’d be staying for the time being. The circuit was only for a few weeks, however he was preparing to go back to Marbury for the rest of his time off.

Spencer had checked into his room, going up the stairs to the second floor to get settled in. “Excuse me,” A familiar voice was causing Spencer’s attention to turn towards the sound. “Wait what are you-” There was no way he could’ve predicted the way he was feeling something heavy hitting the back of his head, his body crashing onto the ground. 

***

“Do you know how they brought you back to where you ended up?” Marianne asked, keeping a calm demeanor even though Spencer had been digging his nails into his palm, eyes squeezed shut from the fear of the vivid memories coming back to haunt him, almost smelling the hotel hallway. “I, uh, no. I can’t remember. I woke up there, I uh, I remembered the pain in my head. It was a headache that felt like it gave me a brain hemorrhage. Obviously it didn’t.” He spoke softly, eyes now opening as his gaze was fixed down at his lap. 

“There’s no logical way that she got me out by herself, it makes no sense. I just can’t figure out who was there to help her and I don’t know why anyone would help her.” Unbeknownst to Spencer, his hands were tangling in his tousled curls as he roughly pulled at the roots from frustration. Pain was a way he could kickstart his hell, knowing that the familiarity of his wincing would bring back something. It had to. The sounds of Marianne trying to snap Spencer out of his actions had fallen on deaf ears, tears now streaming down Spencer’s face as he was fully throwing himself back into a world he so desperately wanted to get away from.

***

He placed himself back in the dank basement, the smell of mildew and mold assaulting Spencer’s nose. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face and back, the panic setting in from the coarse and rough rope cutting into the flesh of his wrists, daring to cut his skin from his thrashing.

Due to being abducted before by the likes of Tobias Hankel, he knew to examine his surroundings, that was how he got himself out the first time, how he saved himself and began to slip away into a never ending pit of trauma and despair. The dim light in the room revealed a cement floor, droplets of a crimson substance covering the floor. Blood. There was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He shouldn’t have been here, he should’ve been getting ready for his lecture delving into the psychology of serial killers. Instead, he was locked away in a kill room, a place where he could be reduced to nothing but a pile of flesh and bone. 

His ears were ringing, the head injury from before causing a migraine that made him want to slam his head onto the cement floor, to put an end to the splitting headache. It was good he was tied up, the idea of ending this suffering so early on and robbing whoever this person was of their chance to kill him was so satisfying. Eidetic memory didn’t serve him any purpose here though, each time he tried to remember the face of the woman in the hallway, he was left with a blurry outline. This was all too reminiscent of when he was arrested in Mexico. Maybe he was drugged again? That would explain how he couldn’t bring himself to remember his captor. The trauma response of the brain would surely be shutting things out, as if it were any help shielding him of the pure hell he was going to face.

His thoughts stopped entirely when he heard the heavy sound of the metal door being pushed open, his head snapping over immediately. With double vision from the concussion, he felt even more hopeless. “W-why am I here?” He asked slowly, blinking his eyes slowly to try and focus them on the face of the person in front of him. The pain of a sharp slap to his face had his head flying to the side, a groan of pain falling from his lips. 

“You’re here because this is the place you need to be.” The voice was soft, almost sickeningly sweet. It was also very familiar. The woman from the hallway, the woman who haunted his thoughts from her unknown, blurred face. There was a burn in Spencer’s throat. He felt ill.

Her.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked immediately after, the woman sighing as she brought a hand to gently stroke his cheek. It was a complete 180. “You’re here because we never got to talk about our relationship, honey. You decided that you were better off alone, I’m showing you that you’re safer here with me.” She offered a smile. “You will not leave me this time, Spencer. We can be happy!”

Despite his survival instincts telling him to play along, he couldn’t. “W-we broke up for a reason.” There was a waiver to his voice, fear. “Right. Then I got arrested for domestic abuse. I just think you’re dramatic.” She stated in a simple tone, her hand dropping from his cheek. Obsessive Love Disorder was a dangerous thing, something that if left untreated, would cause nothing but pain.

“I mean, what kind of man lets his girlfriend hit him without fighting back? A weak man. It’s sad. Don’t worry though, we are gonna have a lot of fun!” She mused while moving to brush her hair back from her face. Her nonchalant behavior was chilling, how heartless she could be. 

Spencer was young when they’d initially gotten together, that being his first serious relationship. Things started normal, they got along and went on dates. She essentially love bombed him from the beginning, he was just too naive to notice what was going on. It was a year of joy and peace, the two enjoying each other's presence enough to the point where Spencer felt prepared to take the next step. He moved in with her. 

That was when the hell started. The psychological torment, the physical abuse, and emotional manipulation was that of a cinder block tied to his ankles, ready to be thrown overboard and left without a trace. The weight of the relationship almost killed him. She would put loaded guns to his head, sadistically laughing and taunting him by acting as if she would really shoot him. There were some nights where he wished that she did. It would be his only shot at peace. 

When he left the first time, he got extremely lucky. He got to use the excuse that the BAU needed him after he’d spent so much time planning for his escape. He elicited in JJ’s help, his best friend at work who he’d broken down to on a particularly stressful case. He thought that getting arrested would set her straight, get her checked out by a psychologist or something and calmed down with proper medication. 

Naivety. He knew that someone couldn’t be helped unless they wanted it. 

That was abundantly clear now that he was in this predicament. 

All he could think of was that he’d never go home, nor would he ever be able to see his mom, JJ, Emily, or any of his beloved team again. It brought tears to his eyes, thinking that nobody knew where he was. He was supposed to be in a classroom with promising students that would change the world. What if they didn’t even notice that he was gone? By the time his year's sabbatical was over, it would be far too late. He’d be a rotting corpse buried in a random backyard.

“You’re crying.. Oh, sweetheart..” The sudden movement of her body inching closer caused the man to flinch, eyes widening as he leaned back against the chair he was bound to. “You really don’t trust me?” She had the audacity to sound hurt, as if she didn’t have him tied to a chair. “This is ridiculous, Spencer. You are just as weak as I could remember. I thought being in your forties, you would be stronger.” She sighed while her hand was roughly grabbing his hair to pull it back, the male being forced to meet her gaze.

“We are going to fix that. I’m going to train you into being better.” She spat as a frown spread across her face. Spencer knew his body was tense, his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. “Since you don’t listen..” She began, a sad sigh falling from her lips. “I need to go through our first lesson.” She stated as she walked away. For a moment, Spencer could feel a blind hope that things would be okay. That her punishment would just be her leaving. 

Spencer could only hear the rapid beat of his heart, the blood in his veins running cold. There was no way out. When she came back over, he inspected the object in her hand. The shiny metal of the scissors had his body shuddering in fear, eyes trained on her every movement. He made an effort to try and weasel away from her touch, however the rough hold on his shirt was keeping him in place. Was she going to plunge the tool deep into his chest cavity? She could stab him in the heart with enough force or a lung even. She caught him by surprise.

The blade ran over the shirt covering the male’s lanky torso before she offered a smile. “Relax. I’m not gonna stab you with scissors, that would be too easy.” She giggled, as if the idea was humorous. Instead of stabbing him, she was using the utensil to cut off the sweater from his torso, her idea of taking away his dignity seemed to be undressing him. Of course, she wanted him to be uncomfortable, embarrassed. It was the only way to break him and force him into submission. She would feed off of fear and he felt like he sustained her enough. 

Like an eagle stalking its next prey, Spencer kept his eyes on her, watching every movement she made while mentally preparing himself for the worst. When she’d reached on a nearby table and picked up what looked to be a taser, it was enough for Spencer to let his eyes fall shut tightly. She was planning on torturing him by shocking him, that had to be it. 

The crackle of electricity coming from the device had her smiling, holding it up to proudly display it. “First rule, you need to learn how to take everything the world will give you. Let’s see if that old man's heart can handle a few shocks, hmm?” It looked like a law enforcement level weapon, one that had stronger shockwaves than the typical ones that could be purchased in a store. Before Spencer could try to plead, he was feeling the watts of electricity surge through his veins, the violence of it causing his body to thrash. With his eyes rolled to the back of his head, he tried thinking of his mom. How happy she’d be when he got home, how excited she’d be to tell him about how her life was going. 

His body was convulsing as the taser was pulled away from his neck, the male breathing hard as he was doing his damndest to keep himself together. A deep groan emerged from his throat as he slowly lifted his tired head, glossed over eyes facing the woman who was planning on making him miserable. “I’m.. Really shocked that you went through that without passing out. I mean, I had it pressed there for three minutes. The pain typically would elicit more reaction. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from other friends down here..” She was letting her head tilt to the side, reminiscent of a puppy who had so much curiosity. “Let’s see if you can last longer! This will be great research!” 

The lesson went on for an hour, off and on subjecting the male to enough electricity to make his heart burst in his chest. By the grace of God and fighting for his life, he made it. The devil reincarnate was satisfied, feeding off the pure agony displayed in Spencer’s pupils. He could hide fear but he couldn’t hide excruciating pain. The way his eyes were tightly squeezed shut, he was shaking slightly in his spot. There was amusement in her eyes, a grin on her face as she was bringing her hands to his cheeks.

In his weak state, he didn’t flinch.

**

“So that’s where the scars come from. Oh, Spencer..” Marianne was frowning while looking at the male, the man looking visibly distressed by having to tap into those memories that he so desperately tried to forget. The pain and torture he’d went through was enough to break even the strongest of people. 

“That’s where those scars come from, right. She repeatedly used the taser against my neck and chest.” His voice was shaky as he was giving an explanation, the purple scarf draped around his neck slowly being removed to show off the marks the prongs left behind. 

“There was more. She burned my skin with the taser but she had something else. She called it a toy, something she had joy in using on me. She claimed.. She claimed it marked me as hers.” He explained, fingers slowly messing with a loose thread on his cardigan. 

“Would you like to discuss it or should we hold off until another session?” The woman asked, a sympathetic look etched on her face as she studied Spencer’s mannerisms. “Because I don’t expect to know about it today if you aren’t ready. You’ve opened up a lot today.”

“No, I can, uh, explain it to you. I just.. I’m a little nervous to relive it.”

Anyone would be.

**

Spencer was sitting in the chair, his back in an unbelievable amount of pain for sitting upright for six days now. The lessons that they had in that basement consisted of a taser being pushed roughly into flesh, Spencer’s body weak and exhausted after what felt like hours of being shocked. His body could only take so much more before he was rendered fully weak, unable to help himself. His eyelids were heavy, so tired yet he couldn’t sleep. 

The sleep deprivation had been settling in, sanity slowly beginning to disappear while the male fought the urge to sleep. He had to be awake, aware. However in his delirious state, he was going down the path of madness. 

“Gideon, I just wanna get out of here but I’m slowly losing faith.” The genius’ voice slurred, looking over at the man who was standing in front of him. The man who he knew was dead, yet.. Here he was, right in front of him. “You’re going to get out of here, Reid. Just put yourself in her shoes. What is she gaining?” 

The words had the male slowly letting his head lull to the side, heavy eyes slowly closing. “She wants to break me psychologically. To make me a slave.” He responded to the ghost of his mentor. “Right. Do not let her break you. Fight. Your team will be here. Garcia has always known where to find people. Between you and I, I’m pretty sure she has a tracker inside everyone on earth.” The words made Spencer laugh tiredly, keeping his eyes shut. “She probably does.. I could see it.” He spoke softly, shifting in his chair.

The lighter ceased as soon as he could hear the heavy door being shoved open, the metal door hitting the wall was enough to make his head shoot up. Jason was gone, yet she was here. 

“You’re awake! That’s so good. We have spent so much time together that I’ve been thinking of something special to give you.” She offered a wide smile as she was going to the wall behind him, a furnace being there this whole time that he just couldn’t see. “I got this whenever I had the farm. Do you remember that?” The words made his heart nearly stop as she stepped in front of him while holding the object to show off. A cattle iron. “I figured that I’d show you my most prized toy. Not many people have ever seen it!” She offered a wide smile. 

“Since we have been having so much fun together, I want to give you something to definitely remember. You’ll never forget.” She cooed, finger tapping his nose while she hummed in satisfaction. The fear in his eyes thoroughly satisfied her. “Alright. Let’s get this heated up, shall we?” As it was placed in the flame across the room though, the male was quiet while trying to keep himself calm and collected. The tears running down his face didn’t quite get the memo.

“Don’t look so scared. I promise that it’s not that big, it’s just got my name and a nice little heart. It’ll be like a tattoo!” He offered a wide smile while taking the metal out of the fire while approaching the shirtless mail. “W-wait! Let’s talk about this! You don’t need to do this!” The burn would be severe enough to never heal, to haunt him forever.

His body was shaking the minute she spared no mercy, the burning metal being pushed into his skin with force. It was enough to make Spencer scream in pain, the sickening sound of his skin sizzling and the putrid smell of burning flesh and hair filling the small room. His hands were shaking, the rope now cutting deep into the skin to draw blood as he tried to thrash in place to make it stop.

The movements made the chair give way, the man falling back and his head roughly slamming into the cement floor. The pain was enough to make it feel like his brain had fallen from his head, the brain matter decorating the floor and this being his last few minutes. It wasn’t physically possible and he knew that.

His head was bleeding, the blood pooling on the floor behind his head. Thankfully not a cracked skull. She’d pulled him to sit up in the chair once more before she was using her first aid knowledge to stop the bleeding and patch him up. 

“You definitely have a concussion.” She scolded, noticing his blown out pupils and his general dizziness. 

**

“She burned you?” 

“She branded me.” 

The words came out slowly as Spencer’s shaking hands were slowly pulling up the top he had on while showing off the scarred skin that was scabbed over, the man having a horrible habit of picking at it. Even if it was a year old, he felt like it was fresh. He could remember the way his skin bubbled, the way he could feel the indention singe into his chest.The woman’s eyes were wide, seeing the damage done. In addition to the branded flesh, there were numerous puncture-like wounds. She assumed it came from more ‘toys’ that this sick bitch collected.

“Do you feel comfortable talking about after?” Her words were soft, ignoring the clock on the wall signaling their session was over and she could go home for the day. She’d never had Spencer open up like this in this capacity. He explained in such graphic and gory detail that she could understand the dark descent of madness that he felt himself slipping into. The depression of knowing that there was always someone just like her out there. Some other helpless victim being trapped and not being lucky enough to get help like he did.

“Everything was pretty much a repeat after that night, honestly Up until I made her think that she broke me completely.” 

**

It had been nearly a year, Spencer being subjected to being damn near electrocuted on a daily basis, the sharp blade of a steak knife puncturing his skin in non-fatal areas, even the times where she would hold a gun to his head, making him promise that he was hers. That he wasn’t leaving her again.

Spencer felt no pain anymore. His body was numb, even the deep cuts puncturing his flesh feeling like the average bee-sting from him having it done so much. He had no tears left to cry, his emotions disappearing about a month after his captivation. He was brutally beaten, stabbed, scratched, even burned with lighters to a point where he couldn’t feel. 

The wounds would heal over then be reopened for more sadistic pleasure of rubbing things like salt, dirt, lemon juice, among other things. 

Infection hadn’t killed him yet, so he took it as some sign of faith that he wasn’t meant to die here. 

“You know, kid. I’m really worried about you.” Derek was talking to him today, the male looking up at the ceiling while sucking in a breath. “I know. I’m starting to worry about myself too.. What if the team isn't looking for me? They surely expect me to be completely radio silent to work on my life outside of the team.” His throat was sore, surely from the nights where he’d just scream, scream to get every ounce of pain and hurt built up over the year out. 

“They are looking. You think Garcia would ever give up on you? Come on, kid.” The scolding made Spencer offer a small smile. “You’re right. I mean, P-Penelope would never give up on me.”

Spencer had faced death about a million times before, however this was different. After a year of conditioning and brutality, he never felt so close to death. It seemed inviting, the thought of just.. Maybe drifting off and ending all the suffering there. 

“Kid. I know you are weak but don’t you die on me. On us. What will Hank do without his favorite uncle? Or what about Henry and Michael? Do you really want to make them face losing you? Or your mama, man. Think about her!” Not-Derek was probably the last piece of rationality that Spencer had left. 

“Look. It’s self defense if you kill her now. Think about it, you have proof she subjected you to pain and suffering. Why not get her back? You haven’t slept in weeks, man. Weeks.” The sleep came in small doses, mainly because he had no idea what would happen when he was asleep, unconscious to the vile nature of what she did to him. Best to be awake when a knife is shoved so deep in his shoulder, it hits the bone. 

“W-what?” Was he telling himself to kill her? No, no. Spencer couldn’t do that! He was a good man, just troubled. However the more he thought about it, the more the festering rage built inside of him. Why should he die here? 

That was when the plan was in motion. The next time she came down was a full day later, having water and food along with the knife that she loved to use all too much on the helpless man. “Have you actually gotten sleep?! Spence!” The woman smiled widely while clasping her hands together, eventually grabbing the glass to let him sip from the straw. Spencer was weak, his head slowly bobbing as he looked up at her through his tired eyes. Even with the exhaustion, he knew that he was going to get out of there. Alive or dead, he’d leave that god damn basement. He’d contemplated all his options. If he was weak enough, she’d untie him to accompany him to the bathroom. “Can I uh, go pee?” He asked, voice still hoarse and low.

Seemingly, his plan was working because she was grabbing the knife. “I trust you, Spence, so I’ll let you up.” She mused while offering a smile. “Do you think that you will be good enough to be let up permanently? You’re honestly such a good boy now, I have to grant you some sort of luxury.” 

Yeah. Fucking luxury. So much luxury that he would be able to feel her blood seep into his bruised and battered skin, akin to a hand moisturizer. She made him like this. She created the monster inside of him that was bursting from its confinements. Prison hurt him in ways indescribable but this experience completely ripped out any form of compassion or empathy. There was rage, the burning inside of his chest from the overwhelming emotion.

The minute the ropes were cut, Spencer examined his wrists briefly, waiting for her to cut the ropes on his ankles. The rope burn was deep, dried blood from his violent thrashing decorating the tan restraint and leaving deep marks on his flesh. 

The freedom to move felt so fucking good. However his legs were dreadfully asleep. He didn’t realize that until he tried to stand to ambush his captor, only falling directly on top of her while letting out a yelp. The blade had gone deep into his side from the fall, however the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it tolerable. Rolling off of her body, he was taking in a deep breath before the blade was being torn from his side by his right hand, rolling on top of the stunned woman. 

There was darkness in his eyes, an unfathomable amount of rage that made him look no better than the likes of George Foyet. “Lesson one, don’t trust people.” His words were low, his pupils being blown out as he brought the blade down to slam into her chest. The sounds of agonizing screams filling the room brought a twisted smile to his face. “What? You’re too weak to handle it?! It’s okay! We will fix that!” The past year of pain and suffering was being unleashed back onto the woman who came far too close to killing him. The knife plunged deep into her chest cavity a whopping total of sixty times. There was crimson red all over his hands, face and chest along with the pool on the floor. He’d stabbed her lungs first, making her last few moments agonizing as she drowned in her own blood from the inside. The cries and gurgles had Spencer laughing with glee, continuing to mumble the same twisted phrases he’d heard after being shocked, burned, stabbed, and threatened with a firearm. 

By the time the team had actually gotten there, he’d continued stabbing the lifeless corpse while muttering and laughing. Emily couldn’t even go near him from the fear he’d turn on her. With Luke and Matt pulling him off of her, the male was spitting up blood, the wound from earlier worsening the more the adrenaline wore off. “We need a medic!” Luke was the one yelling, him and Matt carrying Spencer out. 

**

The final pieces of the story had Marianne in shock. She’d heard bits and pieces but seeing Spencer smile while retelling the end of his journey, it was chilling. This wasn’t the sweet man who had entered the room two hours ago. This was a man who lived in perpetual darkness. A man who let a monster consume him in that basement.

“Is that all? Do I need to tell you more details?” The male asked, sitting up straighter.This part he had no problem discussing, making the woman slowly reach under her desk to hit a button. That was when the doors were opening and one of the nurses were coming in. “Alright Dr. Reid, let’s take you back to your room!” She said in a cheery voice, hand gently grabbing his arm to urge him to stand. He didn’t fight back. “I’ll be seeing you next week, Marianne. Maybe we can talk about Cat there too. Wouldn’t you like to know the last victim?” 

“Dr. Reid.” The nurse scolded while leading him out. 

** 

“It’s obvious that Mr. Reid is not well, a year full of torture has left him mentally unstable to the point he is lashing out on everyone he sees. We can’t have this behavior continue. I’m sending him to the Western State Psychiatric Hospital indefinitely.” The judge’s decision had the BAU team gasping from their seats, Penelope’s eyes welling up with tears at the thought of the team losing their best agents and closest friends.

Spencer however had no feelings, instead stone faced as he stared at the woman giving her verdict. 

They’d lost him a long time ago. So long that he had no desire to look back at his team. If they loved him, they would have found him sooner, they would have fought harder to find him. 

He was alone.

He’d always be alone.

[llunapastell-reads]

ᴄʜ. ᴏɴᴇ || ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɴᴇ (ʜ.ʜᴊ) ──

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 :･ hwang hyunjin x fem reader (hyunjin pov) 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 :･ angst | romance | hurt/comfort  𝗖𝗛. 𝗪.𝗖 :･ 4.1k 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 :･ profanity | alcohol | depression | mentions of break ups | mentions of cheating

"So, what do you have against New Year’s Eve?“ "It makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future... I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either."

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 :･ reposting this story to the sb so just roll with the new year's theme ok ...

✧.* 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚

I hate nights like this.

The sky appears cloudless and it’s softening into a dim shade of indigo, much like an evening after an intense thunderstorm has passed through. There is a stillness in the air and the lingering scent of rush hour traffic makes my stomach churn.

The sky was just as clear when I saw her for the last time. That stupid girl, whom I shared an apartment and bed with for almost two years. A home that we both deserted after I discovered the truth. 

“Hello? Hyunjin, did you hear a single word I just said?” My best friend’s voice tears me from my brooding recollections. 

“I’m sorry Felix, can you repeat that again?”

Much of our conversations are like this these days. I know I should try harder to push the dejected thoughts from my mind and be more present in reality, especially around the person who happily took me in when my relationship came to an abrupt end. But when the evening is veiled in this color, I can’t stop tormenting myself with all the details of the night I left her.

Felix sighs and mirrors my position against the railing of his balcony. He knows where my mind is and by the look in his eyes, I realize he’s decided to spare me the lecture. Felix has the patience of a Saint and I often feel unworthy of his devoted friendship. I have put him through a lot these past few months, and the least I can do is pay attention to what he’s asking me.

“Tonight is Chan and Changbin’s party and I promised them I’d be there a bit early. I was hoping you would come with me to the apartment to set up…” the blonde trails off.

“…And also, they didn’t hear from Kira. Not like we wanted her to come, anyways. What I mean is— she won’t be there tonight.” 

I can only bear to smile at him meekly. I hate the sound of her name. 

Choi Kira, they all used to fawn after her in the dorms. We had been friendly throughout our time in university, but I never gave her a second thought until the end of our junior year. My younger self would find me pathetic for sulking over someone who I once considered so vapid and boring.

“Of course I will help you. That's my duty as your best friend, isn’t it?” I flash a boxy grin towards my friend, but It doesn't seem he buys my forced smile. He understands how difficult it has become to be in social situations nowadays. People love to pry, they want to gossip about if the pretty picture of my life they painted in their minds resembles the one I am actually living. They will ask about their perfect Kira, and I will attempt to contort the truth into something less humiliating. 

I am not sure how I can dilute discovering my girlfriend was cheating on me with our English professor into a more digestible story, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. They will believe whatever bullshit I sell them.

I mull over a list of excuses while we lock up and walk to Chan and Changbin’s shared apartment. Ever since we were freshmen in college, those two made it their mission to ring in the New Year in the most obnoxious way possible: a blowout out celebration with enough booze to poison every citizen in Seoul. Growing up together has cemented our friendship into a brotherhood, which is the only thing motivating me to leave the solace of my studio. And of course, the promise of not having to go clubbing with them for three weeks if I showed my face. 

For them, my brothers, who have carried my pitiful existence without any trace of resentment through these last months of winter, I will attempt to resemble my old self. I've never found it difficult before to put on a show of friendliness and amusement, but recently, the mask wears heavy on my features. To be amongst a crowd, amongst my best friends, and still feel like I’m stuck in solitude— barely visible through the fog that is my own fucked up illusion of loneliness. They just can’t see it. They have never been where I am, and I hope that never changes. But that doesn’t stop my friends from reaching for me, doing the best they can to fish me out of it— even with blind hands. And for their endless attempts to liberate me, I am forever grateful. 

Felix, Chan and I sling back a shot of whiskey with the promise of a fresh start in the new year. My lips curve up at them and their optimism. My arms hang over their shoulders, wishing the physical contact could transfer some of that imagined hopefulness into my own body. 

If only I could will it into existence. If only that could keep the fog from thickening.

— ✧.*

Thank god the mindless babble has paused for a moment as everyone turns their attention to the direction of loud clatter. I relish in the sliver of peace the commotion brings, finally the bogus smile I’ve been forcing can falter. I feel a bit of gratitude towards the woman who has tripped over the carpet and taken a few plates down with her; she’s abetted my escape from another stale conversation with acquaintances I don’t care about.

“Wow, I didn’t expect to see her tonight...” Jeongin whispers next to me while we watch the woman collect herself from the scene she caused. I think I recognize her from Kim Hyemin’s Statistics course, but we never spoke. I only ever took notice of her taste in Literature because she always had her face buried in a book. 

“I heard she got dumped by Seungmin’s old roommate at the beginning of the fall semester. No one really knows the details but apparently, it ended really ugly.” My younger friend continued, his concentration moving from the disheveled woman to the cocktail umbrella in his drink.

“How ugly?” I ask without taking my focus away from her.

“Like, took time off of school because she went ‘away...’ isn’t gonna graduate on time, that kind of ugly.” 

My heart twitches at his words, her shallow gaze is very familiar to me. The glassiness of her darkened eyes hints that her mind often spends time in a faraway place, maybe because reality is too harsh to engage in. Felix always points out his ability to tell my thoughts are reeling just by the look on my face. I study her appearance and understand what my friend must see in me. 

“S’okay bout the dishes, babes— just come ‘ere and meet my brothers!” Changbin lunges his arm around my shoulder with a little too much vigor. I can smell the whiskey and coke on his breath and I can’t help but roll my eyes at his drunken enthusiasm. His glazed stare is fixated on the bleach blonde attached to the stumbling woman’s arm— must be this week’s fuck buddy, telling by the way she returns his fervent gawk. As the two girls approach us, I can’t find the will to shift my attention away from the person the blonde is dragging behind her. Her tousled fringe accentuates the hollowness behind her eyes and it makes my lungs constrict. It feels as if I’m staring into a mirror, I see so much of my own reflection in her exhausted demeanor. That sullen expression is like an open book, one I have come to memorize not by choice but infliction.

The light graze of Jeongin’s fingers on my wrist pulls me from my own reeling. “Earth to Hyunjin— this is Ryu and Y/N, old classmates from university. We were all in the same dormitory, y’know with Seungmin and Jeno…” the younger boy’s words trail off as Y/N pierces him with a quick glare, her petite frame stiffening at the sound of her ex lover’s name. 

Changbin cuts the thick atmosphere with a sway and stumble while I attempt to hold his larger body upright. “S’glad you both could make it! It’s almost midnight and I made Chan save us the best seats to watch the fireworks,” he snickers. Jeongin and Ryu escort our tipsy host to the terrace with myself and Y/N lingering behind them. 

“Do you drink?” I ask apprehensively. She pauses her stride and examines me before exhaling a deep sigh. 

“Tonight I do,”

Glinting fluorescent lights of blue and pink guide us to the abandoned kitchen of the apartment. I make us a stiff drink and watch as she gulps it down with earnestness. “You look like you’re having as much fun as I am being here,” I tease.

A dry chuckle escapes through her full lips. “Am I that easy to read?” 

More than you realize. I can’t stop the smile from forming; our masks won’t work in here, this brief bubble of solidarity, of knowing without saying. A pleasant silence hangs in the air for a moment— until our attention is drawn to the boisterous chatter that begins to approach us. We both suck in a sharp breath.

“Back to reality?” She smiles up at me for the first time tonight. I drink in her features and usher us into the real world again. 

— ✧.*

“10…. 9…. 8…. 7….” 

The entire terrace harmonizes like a choir as we countdown the last seconds of the year in unison. Felix and Chan grip the railing of the building with anticipation in front of me, while Changbin tightens his hold on the small waist pressed against his body. I grimace, shifting myself closer to Jeongin and Y/N to avoid witnessing the sloppy kiss that will take place in moments’ time. The packed space erupts in jubilation then, with ecstatic cheers and applause dulled momentarily by colorful explosions in the sky before us. 

I’m not sure what possesses me in that moment, but when I turn to her, my body reacts against my will. Maybe it was the way the vibrant colors of fireworks glistened against the tears streaming down her face; or how her widened eyes bore into mine and didn’t dare look away once the connection was made. My hand intrinsically grasps her smaller digits, and when she doesn’t cringe or pull away, I lead us from the terrace and out the front doors without looking back.

We’re half way down the building steps when her hand tugs at mine sheepishly. “Hy-Hyunjin, please slow down,” Y/N’s feeble voice hardly echoes in the concrete stairway.

The entire time we’ve been moving, I have been suspended in a daze; I cannot make sense of the gnawing in my chest cavity as her tear stained cheeks flashes through my mind. She stands at my eye level from the step above me, slender fingers still laced in my own, a tremble just barely detectable.

I watch her expression turn tearful and my limbs move on their own again— cupping her face with my free hand, I beg “please, no more tears. Not right now.” I don’t hesitate to wipe the wetness from her eye, and she leans into my touch, gently nodding her head in silent agreement. 

Our pursuit continues until we reach a familiar establishment a couple blocks away from the apartment: a shabby, 24-hour diner that has been a habitual stop after late night escapades with the guys. A flushed shade of pink has bloomed under Y/N’s skin and I’m unsure if it’s a result of the winter air’s caress, or embarrassment from the smirk I can’t contain while watching her shove bites of pancakes into her mouth. 

She takes a noticeable gulp and clears her throat. “What are we… doing here?” She questions from across the booth against the window. 

I stare blankly at her. I try my best to keep a neutral tone so she can’t pick up on my own befuddled thoughts around the same question. “It just seemed like you needed to get out of there. And for some reason, I wanted to go with you.” 

There was truth to that at least. How insane is it for strangers to share one knowing look and allow that to embolden them to run away, hand in hand? Y/N squints out the frosted window, considering my words. Her eyes flash back to mine and hold my gaze for a long moment before sighing out a ‘thank you’ between parted lips. 

“What do you have against New Year’s Eve?” I probe before taking a sip of coffee. 

She must find my question amusing because the corners of her mouth creep upwards into a crooked smile. With some hesitation, she answers “I don’t know— I guess, this holiday makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future. I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either.” Her eyes flutter closed in reflection. “I have had some… tough times, to say the least, this year. I thought by now I would feel different. Feel better.” She scoffs at her own words.

I turn her admission over in my mind before responding. What she has shared resonates deep within me. Leaning my head against the chilled glass, I add “It’s quite funny, the fashion in which we celebrate the new year. The signifying of a ‘new’ chapter— a clean slate. As if the change of the date could really alter our lives when the clock hits midnight. It’s just another day, you will feel the same as you did the night before. For some of us, that’s not much of a reason to celebrate.”

I swallow thickly at how cynical I sound aloud, like a scorned victim who wants everyone to drown along with him. My transparency makes me feel pitiful, yet Y/N does not seem taken aback by the crudeness of my words. There is only silence exchanged between us, but her empathetic expression conveys all I need to know. I exhale my relief.

But I am flustered for a different reason all together now— she pulled that unfiltered confession straight out of me with just a stare; the inkling of her smile and the fluttering of thick, dark lashes was all she needed to disarm me. 

“But doesn’t a little piece of you wish to feel differently?” The inward battle she endures is painted all over her features— exhausted by the affliction of the universe, but still so unyielding for her heart to become callous. She’s courageous, a lot tougher than I have ever been; I stomped out that flicker of faith as harshly as I could in the beginning of my grief. What was the point of looking for goodness in the world when I couldn’t have it, when it couldn’t reach me? When everything I tasted didn’t take the bitterness away.

“I want the idea of a new day to fill me with optimism— but my logic won’t quite allow that, like my mind is fighting against my heart,” Hiding the blush behind her hands, she can’t hold back how comical she finds her own embarrassment. “God, is that childish? Why does it feel stupid to still want to hope?” 

It pangs again, my heart remembers all too well the feelings she is conjuring in me. I try to defuse this internal intrusion by laughing too, the toothy grin reaching my eyes. “In this world, It’s admirable and maybe even a lil’ foolish— because the mind and heart can hardly ever cooperate.” Y/N raises her glass to my eye level and we cheers to that: to our feeble brains and the forlorn heart, fickle fuckers they are.

The mood shifts unexpectedly afterwards, her light expression softening into something timid— something vulnerable. Nimble fingers fidget with the corner of her napkin as her low tone just barely registers from across the table, “I don’t know how you knew what I needed before I did, but thank you, Hyunjin– this means a lot to me... Do you think we were friends in a past life?”

I can make out a semblance of my own smile reflected in the dark liquid of my coffee mug as I peer down into its blackness. I won’t allow myself to spiral now, I refuse to process how alarming it is for a stranger to move me as deeply as she has, so I deflect, “Maybe, cus I knew you were cool– that's why I brought you to where all the brooding kids like us come to hang out.”

Y/N’s bright laughter rings distinctly amongst the commotion of the restaurant, her eyes creasing into crescent moons while she beams, “We are kindred spirits, you and I.”

And then it’s all too soon that the liquid in our cups turns cold; the night lulls to a hum as it settles around us and we reluctantly prepare to brave the elements outside the solace of the diner. 

— ✧.*

My lips are practically frozen when we reach Y/N’s apartment complex. Seoul’s frigid wind stings my face as we push against its force, but I unclasp the top buttons of my coat anyways, fully welcoming the numbness— anything to distract from the shorter frame beside me, the way my fingers itch to seek comfortable warmth in the hand that brushes against my own while we walk. An unintentional gesture that is stirring a foreign kind of frenzy within me, and Y/N seems to sense my discomfort.

“Hyunjin, can I ask you a question?” She doesn’t meet my gaze when she speaks and a piece of me is glad for that. “Do you believe… only time can heal all?”

Her question stifled my thoughts for a minute. The answer doesn’t take too long to come to me, and I hope my candidness doesn’t deepen her hardship. “I think time is a small part of it. It alleviates— as do many other things. Perhaps healing is a combination of time passing, distraction, enduring; just trying your best to fill yourself up with anything at all until you feel full, or whole, again.” 

The fluorescent street light illuminates her pensive look, and I trace faded constellations of freckles adorning the rosy cheeks in front of me. Her rigid stance reduces to something more placid under my stare. How small she must feel standing against my taller stature.  The corner of her lip remains tucked under her teeth until I force myself to connect with her fixed gaze again.

“What do you do then, to fill yourself up?” Y/N smiles up at me hollowly. She is a person made of contradictions, it seems; what a lovely, twinkling sound her voice makes, it does not match the spiritless words that spill from plush lips. 

I run my fingers through my dark hair and move my focus to the black sky above us as I speak, “I compose and listen to music; drink a little too much some days and write poetry. I paint. I sketch— I fuck.” I catch the hitch in her breathing and chuckle at her embarrassment. Her body takes a brave step forward, curious eyes searching for something within my own. 

“And does that work? Are you healing?” 

I wish I could lie and give the answer Y/N wants to hear. The truth of the matter is, I have seen myself take great strides forward toward happier days— and then one random morning, I might not have the will to even crawl out of bed. More than just my heart was broken by my breakup; my ego, my confidence, my ability to trust have all been marred. She is owed some honesty, so I pick out the most important notes to share from my experience.

“Honestly, I don’t think healing is linear. I have some truly good days, and some bad ones. I will admit there is slow progress— but god am I impatient,” I laugh and pray she can’t hear how I ache, “and god, does the loneliness tear me up sometimes.”

I sense my statement causes her no distress because Y/N simply purses her lips and nods like I had just confirmed her hypothesis. We stand in the cold, with the weight of this burden of truth on our shoulders. I’m taken by surprise when a melodic giggle disturbs the bit of silence.

“Being around you made me feel so light for the first time in what seems like forever,” my pulse quickens and she offers me no opportunity to interject. “Thank you, Hyunjin. It’s been awhile since I’ve hung out with someone and didn’t feel… alone, if that makes sense.” She peers up at me through her lashes, gauging my expression.

“On those days you feel lonely, I want to do the same for you as you did for me tonight.” Her eyes darted from mine, bashful at her own unexpected tenderness. When she attempts to escape through the double doors of the building, I catch her wrist and pull her back to me, my shallow breath tickling the back of her hair. 

She has done more than she will ever know, and more than I’m brave enough to admit. 

“Can I say one last thing?” My pitch heightens and I don’t care if she can hear the excitement in my voice, all my senses are buzzing being close to her like this. As she turns to face me, I see I’m not the only one enchanted.

This girl must possess the ability to read my mind because before the idea of kissing her can completely overwhelm me, delicate fingertips graze my jawline and ground me to reality once more. I didn’t have a single clue as to what I wanted to say before she slipped away, but that doesn’t matter in this moment any longer– there is nothing we have to speak into existence as her lips ghost over mine, silently seeking permission to succumb to our inexplicit desire. 

Kissing a stranger shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t make all my reason null and void, or engulf me in a soothing reverie that I embrace when I take her lips in mine more fervently. This feeling shouldn’t transcend gratification and fill me with more, but as she cradles my face with a gentle grasp and my arm wraps around her neck to bring our bodies closer, I’m somehow convinced this is right— that it is as it should always be with Y/N.

Her fingers tangle themselves in my hair and I let myself bloom under the intoxicating warmth of her touch. I smirk against her when her lips part, allowing me entrance to deepen the kiss. She tastes like mocha and desperation, the flavors becoming even sweeter while I push her into the brick pillar of the building, failing to restrain the need to have her pressed against me. My movements are more raw than I intend, but I can tell she is quite pleased with my undoing, based on how her thumbs smooth loving circles into my skin.

A delicious tickle makes me hum, imagining the image of her frame caged between my own and the cool facade— how lost in this moment we must appear. Y/N returns my intensity and claws at my collar, as if our forms could possibly meld together with just a little more fervor. Her body arches, chasing my caress down her side and I can’t suppress the groan that slips into her mouth when I feel her shiver against my body. A blistering kind of heat builds in my stomach, listening to the soft, wet sounds our lips make while we struggle for dominance. Who craves who more, It's impossible to say.

I think this moment will be burned into me, I have never felt pleasure so tangible and potent. I’ll remember with clarity how the huffs of white smoke blurred my vision when we reluctantly disconnected, gasping for air, under the harsh gleam of lampposts. Y/N giggles in between quick inhales and tries to cool her reddened cheeks with the palm of her hand. “Did you want to say you needed to come upstairs?” 

My chuckle comes out breathy and ragged, “yeah, I feel kinda dizzy— I should maybe lie down for a while.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle when she smiles and my chest swells with adoration. I want to savor the way her smaller hand molds into mine as we hurry through the brick archway together. A sensation I long locked away washes over me then; I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but it feels a lot like resolution— a wishful promise this night is just the beginning. 

The idea of tomorrow shines a bit brighter in the back of my mind.

[slimesam]

The Nun and her Familiar (Gun x Reader)

Chap 2

Summary: Your third-year student is now summoning your own familiar and somehow you have summoned a literary hot-as-hell demon as your familiar. Your familiar, He is a sadistic man that loves to see your struggles when you're fighting monsters, he loves to see you squirm as he goes near you and especially when he mentions your "meat" is his favorite part.

He wonders when will give in to him

A/N: I am back! I am so burned out/too busy and out of ideas lol. as this also just fanfiction is just on a whim that I made! I probably shoud go back to drawing and stack every paragraph on this story. (being 3rd year in 2nd sem kicked my gear into lazy mode and busy catching up)

Warning: Implied NSFW(?)

________________________

Both of them arrive at the grand door beside the door there is a plate that is written ‘Place the Gifts and Letter for Head Priest DG here’ with an arrow that points down and you can see a lot of gifts, flowers, and letters being placed under a metal plate.

Y/n prepares herself to knock on the door, and Gun is at her back staring at Y/N's figure since they have left the summoning room.

'Her physic is definitely different from what I remember from those past centuries those nun/clerics are too fragile. As they are basically so easy to break when they are in a field battle as they mostly serve as buffer and healer.' Gun admires his new master body while comparing her to those weaklings that he has fought with centuries or decades ago.

Knock

Knock

Knock

“Come in”

Creeeeeek

"Good afternoon Head priest DG" Y/n open the door gently as she doesn't want to disturb him. Entering the room with Gun, and bow to the head priest as a sign of respect. While Gun merely just stood beside her staring intensely at DG like he is pinning point on why does he look familiar.

The pink hair idol looking man name DG smiles as he put down his paper work "Ha, Miss L/N I have been informed by your advisor that you need to resolve the issues of your familiar" ignoring on the demons intense stare

Y/N simply nod at DG and explain the situation

.

.

.

.

.

After Y/N explains the details, Head priest DG tapping his pointing fringer rapidly on the table thinking on how he would instruct Y/N problem.

And finally he stopped tapping.

"Miss Y/N, why don't you leave this problem to me I can process the form of this registration without any problem." He smiles

"Also can you leave first as I have to discuss something with your "familiar"" DG said to Y/N as he glares at Gun.

Y/N look at back and forth between them thinking that DG want to lecture a Demon and put a rule during his stay in the PTJ realm.

'Hopefully, they don't fight' Y/N thought as she leave the room.

Making sure the door closes tightly the two talk.

"It's been a while since we have met DG, ha no should I say James Lee the archangel." Gun smirk as he turns the door nob.

Dg smile turns into a shit grin like he gonna troll the crap out of Gun "Gun-ssi, You should already know already that I don’t go with the James Lee anymore, but you should hurry up and catch up with your new master. Wouldn't want her to steal away from some of her classmates right?"

Gun tsked as he remembered that his new master Y/n may probably get mobbed by his new fans due to him being a unique summon.

"Tell me what are you warning me about? "DG""

DG merely huffed at the remarked of Gun and leaned at his chair. "I would like to remind you to be on the watch list of the officials, so don't be reckless as you're gonna drag me into your problem."

"Of course of course, I won't do it out in the open with evidence DG. You must have forgotten that I keep my hands clean and legal." Gun slicked his hair back showing how confident and arrogant in his skills, turned his back from the pink hair priest and turned the doorknob.

"Before I go, I remember why they say that you are a demon dressed in angel from those times "DG "..... did you think that you can fool me on your tapping to cover those sinful sounds when this devil has sensitive hearing." Gun smirks as he goes out and closes the door.

UGK

A choking sound can be heard under the table of Dg.

"My my my Miss Kang don't worry about that, just keep on going, my dear"

Mmm?!?

"Yes yes, it's still safe to keep on going. He is merely teasing as he is also an unstated creature. Ha, surely no one will come here until the evening meeting… Why don't you sit on my knee, my dear." DG petting something? Someone? under his table.

Y/N being a good master she waits for Gun while she's staring outside the window, she still needs to show him around the campus and set some boundaries when she is in class or on fields. She doesn't want anyone to mob her for her unique familiar or just have him scaring the crap out of everyone from his majestic and terror aura.

"-Sensitive hearing"

Hearing the door closed, snaps her thoughts and looked at Gun who is approaching her.

"Ha! Gun! Did head priest DG talk to you about how you will settle?" Y/N rubs her neck nervously as she can feel the intense stare from her familiar.

In the spur of the moment, Gun brought his head beside Y/N's ear and whispered in a deep gritty voice. "My dear mistress, It's nothing to worry about."

Y/N backed away quickly while covering her right ear, blushing like a tomato at the Gun's whisper.

[inquisimer]

Happy DADWC-versary! in honor of that, I'm here to hurt you. For Siobhan/Loghain, " sometimes, i just need the world to be beautiful. i know how dark and ugly it can be but i just want to see something good and focus only on it for a few minutes." (from the it's all about the yearning prompts)

thank you kia!! but joke's on you, you came to hurt me and I wrote them being somft :3 some pre-relationship/developing relationship for Siobhan/Loghain tonight

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

“I would prefer to stay in the city,” Siobhan huffed. The warden ignored her, continuing his trajectory up the Wounded Coast and leaving her no choice but to follow.

“You’ve not left the city in weeks.” A low-hanging branch blocked their path forward and Loghain ducked beneath it. He held it back for her to pass, holding her eyes as she did so.

“And what of it? There’s little else holding the city together, these days.”

“You cannot hold the city together if you fall apart yourself.”

Siobhan glowered at him. “That won’t be an issue.”

“Won’t it?” With a thoughtful hum, Loghain dipped from the main path and forded along a trail of recently broken ferns and shrubbery. Siobhan followed, an irksome itch crawling beneath her skin.

“Of course not,” she told his stubborn back. “Kirkwall hasn’t broken me yet and it’s not about to now.”

They slipped past a sharp outcropping of dark stone and Siobhan blinked against the sudden burst of crimson and orange across her face. A shadow fell across her adjusting eyes as Loghain leaned against the stone and faced her with a furrowed brow.

She looked away, if only to hide from the intensity of his gaze. They were on a tiny shelf of rocky sand, tucked away from the casual onlooker by well-grown trees and sea-worn stone. It was not the kind of place you stumbled upon by accident. Out here, Siobhan felt naked, stripped of her city, the brick and buildings she’d woven into armor over the years.

“The city will not break you,” said Loghain, gently handing her the heavy words one by one, “but your love for it will.”

Siobhan tensed, hackles raising fully, but the warden held a hand up against her angry defense.

“Have you loved a city to the point of destruction, my lady?” He raised one sharp eyebrow. “A country? Because I have. And I’ve mellowed enough under my Tainted leash to recognize the signs.”

Siobhan’s jaw snapped shut so fast her teeth clicked together.

She watched his back as he gave it to her, walking to the very edge of the sand and staring out at the setting sun. She expected a lecture, a listing of ways she’d fucked up or misstepped or could have done much better. She’d certainly heard enough of them, and told as many to herself.

Instead, the former teryn held out one gauntleted hand for her to take. He guided her to his side, then dropped her hand to gesture at the horizon.

“It is easy to get caught up in it all. And even when you remember the good in the world, the ugly and the dark is a constant presence.”

He clasped his hands at the small of his back. “Sometimes, you have to force yourself to look at something beautiful, even if you don’t think it’s necessary. Caught up in the details that need to be tended, you can miss the crumbling of the bigger picture.”

Siobhan inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. She stared across the sea and let the half-vanished sun sear itself against her eyes. It blinded her vision and she let that purge her mind; tension she had forgotten she was holding seeped from her back, her neck, her shoulders.

Oh, but she’d forgotten, in her frenzy to glue her fractured city back together, how easily the darkness snaked into her own cracks. She closed her eyes and looked at the glare against her eyelids and let herself enjoy the warmth of the sun against her skin.

When she opened them, Loghain was looking directly at her.

“Sometimes you have to look at something beautiful, no?” she said with a teasing lilt.

His gaze never wavered, just inclined his head without looking away.

“Sometimes,” he agreed.

[solivar]

Ghost Stories On Route 66

Chapter Five

Sweetwater’s Cafe and Dim Sum Palace was what happened when the owner of the hip young southwestern fusion cuisine cafe closest to the UNM main campus met the owner of the hip young Chinese small plates restaurant closest to the UNM main campus and, rather than engage in an increasingly rancorous culinary battle for the spare cash of every student in walking distance, they instead fell wildly in love and shortly thereafter into scrumptious and wholesome partnership. Strategically located catty-corner to the main campus residence halls, the post-merger restaurant became the place for broke ass college students attempting to top-load on calories for the day to turn up as soon as the doors opened, eat from carts pushed around three stories of public-to-semi-private dining space by an army of cheerful abuelitas for two hours straight, and still make a 9:30 lecture with time to spare. The joint Shimada-Tekhartha-Song-Correia household dined there frequently enough that the host waved them through despite the fact that Hanzo still looked like he had just committed a phthalo green and phthalocyanine blue shaded murder even after a thorough scrubbing. Fortunately, their usual table, a booth in the back corner of the semi-private floor, was unoccupied and he rather swiftly found himself tucked firmly between Genji on one side and Zenyatta on the other, with Lucio and Hana standing guard on the outside ends of the U-shaped seat. Hana had, in fact, only parted with her adopted hockey stick with extreme reluctance.

“Is it too early to start drinking?” Hana asked brightly. “Because, between you and me, I have a feeling that today is going to be the sort of thing that demands Mimosas. Lots of Mimosas. And possibly a whole bottle of tequila before it’s all over.”

“Yes,” said Hanzo and Zenyatta, more or less simultaneously and in reasonably identical disapproving tones, to their mutual surprise.

“You two aren’t going to be a single bit of fun about any of this, are you? Okay, fine. ” And when the drinks cart came around, she settled for a spiced hot chocolate and waited patiently for everyone else to adulterate their tea or coffee before demanding, “All right. Spill it. I want to know in excruciating detail why our security deposit probably just went down the toilet.”

Hanzo inhaled the steam rising off his cup of tea, took a fortifying sip, organized his thoughts, and began to speak, pausing only when the food carts stopped next to their table. He told them about the trip itself, the breakdown, the walk through the desert, the ranger and their drive back to the car the next morning, and precisely how everything had gone horribly, hideously wrong from that point forward. He even copped to talking to Zenyatta first, which earned them both a half-startled, half-hurt look from Genji. When he finished, the table was covered in half-empty plates of huevos rancheros, honey-coated sopaipillas, carne adovada burritos, pork xiao long bao, sesame buns, and a crock of hot and sour soup. He helped himself to a little bit of everything while the others digested what he told them.

“So...what you’re saying is…” Hana said in the tone of one musing idly aloud, “...your smoking hot park ranger has one hot vampire dad and one terrifying smog monster dad but, nonetheless, he has two dads , which means he won’t find it completely traumatic if you call him up and ask him if he wants to go get some hot chocolate and pumpkin empanadas once all this is over?”

“Really? That was your takeaway from his story?” Lucio asked.

“It was the takeaway that doesn’t make me want to run screaming back to Korea.” Hana replied, sweetly.

“Okay, there is that.” Lucio turned and leveled a deadly serious look at him, brown eyes intensely earnest. “Han, I love you man, you know that, right? So you know this is coming from a place of love when I say you could not be more obviously thirsty for this dude if you had a holoscreen floating over your head announcing in foot-tall flashing letters I am thirsty for Ranger Jesse McCree. Seriously, ask him out. The worst he can do is say he’s not interested.”

Hanzo buried his face in his soup bowl in an effort to disguise the fact that all the blood was rushing into his head with such violence he could hear it roaring in his ears like a gale-force wind. On one side, he could feel Zenyatta heroically controlling the urge to add his encouragement to the chorus; on the other, he suspected that Genji was restraining something considerably less supportive.

“Show of hands,” Genji asked, his tone positively glacial with the self-control it was taking him not to have a screaming freakout in the middle of breakfast, “Who thinks my brother being stalked by a soul-eating monstrosity from beyond reality as we know it is completely unacceptable and something we should all be working to change right now? ”

Four hands went up; Hanzo abstained, since he felt his opinion on the matter should be fairly self-evident.

“Seriously, though.” Hana reached over and snagged a sopapilla. “I joke because otherwise I’d be rocking back and forth in a corner gibbering right now because, really, that was kinda the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen and my Dad collects vintage Junji Ito manga so I know from creepy.”

“I gotta agree with Hana on that one.” Lucio continued to look intensely earnest. “I get why you tried to keep us out of it and I appreciate that, I do, because this semester is trying to murder me even without the addition of horrible tentacle monsters -- “

“I am not entirely certain those are tentacles,” Hanzo murmured into the surface of his soup.

“-- or suspiciously tentacular not-tentacles, but seriously, man. Your life is like normal repellent right now. Anti-normal. ” Lucio slumped back in his seat. “And your ranger dude thought sending you back to standard reality would help? ”

“The principle is a sound one.” Zenyatta interjected quietly. “The purpose of returning him to us was to encourage his soul to anchor itself in the comforting rituals of the ordinary, of the life he led before it intersected with the unnatural. I suspected the medicine sent to aid that endeavor was dosed slightly too high and therefore overperforming in an unhelpful way -- reducing it, however, may have allowed for something even more dangerous. For that I am profoundly sorry.”

“I asked for your help -- you have nothing to apologize for, Zenyatta.” Hanzo drank the last of his bowl. “Perhaps I should -- “

“Take an academic leave of absence and put a couple thousand miles of ocean between you and whatever that thing is?” Genji suggested helpfully.

“I am not entirely certain that physical distance would actually constitute an encumbrance in this case.” Zenyatta interjected.

“Why not?” His brother replied, with the sort of maddening powers of logic he could marshal when circumstances demanded it. “The ranger suggested it would help if he stayed away from where it happened in the first place -- rationally, even further away would be safest , right?”

“The ranger sent me back here because you are my family,” Hanzo replied quietly. “And because being in your presence would constitute a form of healing. Would you like to contemplate the sort of convalescence I would enjoy if I crawled home and told our parents this story? I would spend the rest of my life contemplating the world through a heavy antipsychotic-colored haze from behind the unrelentingly beige walls and discreetly reinforced windows of a psychiatric institution that I would never be allowed leave again. I’m half amazed you don’t think I’m insane.”

“Admittedly, we kind of have the advantage of knowing you as the less freaky Shimada brother.” Lucio replied soothingly, flicking a glance at Genji as he did so. “No offense, G.”

“None taken.” Then, grudgingly, “I don’t think father would let that happen, but I see your point.”

Hanzo let the breath he’d been holding out in a shaky sigh. “Thank you.”

“In any case, I would suggest that our next course of action should be determining if that...painting...at the house is more than it appears to be -- “ Zenyatta looked up at the squeaks of dismay emanating from Hana.

“ Could it be? Honestly?” She asked, eyes approximately twice their normal size. “Because, as it is, I’m not entirely sure I wanna sleep there with it still up as it is and if there’s, y’know, a chance it and its I-can’t-believe-those-aren’t-tentacles might come oozing off the walls I’m completely sacking out in your car for the foreseeable future, Zen, just warning you in advance.”

“Yes.” Simple and unadorned and, not for the first time that day, Hanzo felt as though he were trying to breathe around a red-hot spiky ball of panic.

“So. We call the ranger.” Genji said, firmly. “As far as I’m concerned, a whole lot of this is his damned fault in the first place and he can be doing more to help fix it.” Hanzo opened his mouth to object and found himself collecting a ferocious iridescent green glare for his troubles. “And, no, I don’t want to hear about how it isn’t because your judgment on this topic is completely impaired by your desire to climb him like a fire tower.”

“That is the worst analogy in the entire history of time.” Hanzo replied tersely. “And I am not -- “

“And Hana has a point, too, about staying at the condo not being the best idea until this gets figured out -- which, ideally, should happen today. ” Genji continued doggedly on. “And you’re not going to be sleeping across from that no matter what.”

“Agreed.” There were days when it simply didn’t pay to fight, and this was clearly one of them. Hanzo fished the card containing the ranger’s contact information out of his pocket. “I’ll -- “

Genji snagged it in a single smooth motion. “I’ll call him. You’re supposed to be seeking normal , right? Go to class. Keep your studio slot. Hang out in well-lit areas preferably surrounded by hundreds of people. We’ll meet up at the Student Union at...five? How’s five for everybody?”

A general murmur of assent ran around the table and Hanzo nodded, reluctantly, in agreement.

Genji grinned. “Don’t look so worried, aniki. I’ll only chew on him a little bit.”

*

Zenyatta dropped them off at the entrance to the main campus and, until Lucio and Hana peeled off in their respective morning lecture hall directions, Hanzo felt rather distinctly like he was walking surrounded by the world’s smallest, strangest Secret Service detail. Hana was clearly still itching for the security of a hockey stick and, rather than stopping to talk to the two dozen people who tried to flag her down as they crossed the quad, she waved and continued on, her gaze darting about as though she expected something unwholesomely flexible and sanity-blighting to lurch out from behind one of the pieces of exterior display sculpture scattered along their route. Given recent events, he decided he really couldn’t blame her for her excess of caution. Lucio was altogether more mellow but he was also carrying a messenger bag stuffed with enough notebooks and musical equipment components it could probably be used as an improvised melee weapon of some efficacy against even Things From Beyond With or Without Tentacles.

And Genji was, well, Genji and walked a considerable distance out of the way from his own first class to escort Hanzo directly to the doors of Kaplan Memorial Hall, in which lay the fine arts lecture halls and reservable studio spaces. Under normal circumstances, Hanzo arose at godforsaken o’clock in order to take advantage of the fact that there wasn’t an underclassman alive dedicated enough to their major to voluntarily choose a studio block available before the sun was even properly up, no matter how long they could have it. Genji could generally be counted among those ranks, as demonstrated by his reliance on sunglasses when confronted with the early morning light glinting off the glass-and-adobe exteriors of half the buildings on campus, which he normally only encountered under significantly different conditions.

“Hana’s not done asking questions, you know. She’s got that look in her eye.” Genji remarked, pseudo-casual, and Hanzo’s already well-knotted stomach abruptly contorted itself still further into a digestive fractal of perfect dread. “She let it ride just now because she’s actually got class in fifteen minutes but between you and me? She’s going to rake Zen over the coals once she’s got the time. And when your ranger gets here? I wouldn’t want to be him.”

“He’s not my ranger.” Hanzo replied, deeply regretting both the huevos rancheros and the hot and sour soup.

“Semantics.” Genji gave him a sidelong look. “Hanzo -- “

“You want to tell them.” Hanzo finished the thought for him and paused for a moment in the shadow of one of the big pieces on loan from the Museum of Native American Arts and Culture, planting his back against its base and sinking down onto his haunches.

“Zen already knows.” Evenly. “He saw her in me before we even spoke for the first time. I think that we have to tell them. Admittedly, I wish we could do it under more voluntary circumstances but...I think we owe them the truth. Both of us.”

Hanzo closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment on making certain his breakfast stayed where he’d put it. “You’re right,” He finally said, fighting to keep the misery out of his voice and, apparently, succeeding.

“Wow, I am?” Genji actually took his sunglasses off and blinked down at him in genuine surprise.

“Yes.” Hanzo tilted his head back and let the cool of the granite statue base soak into his skull. “I think the ranger might suspect something, too. And right now it’s only a matter of time before everyone else finds out and then managing how much the fallout sucks. We might as well pull the trigger ourselves.”

Genji hunkered down next to him, hesitated fractionally, then brushed the hair back from his eyes. “It doesn’t have to suck, you know. Our friends are smart, caring people who actually like us, which gives them a couple legs up on the rest of the clan on their worst day.”

Hanzo nodded wordlessly and found he didn’t have it in him to crush the hope in his brother’s eyes. “You’re right about that, too.”

“Clearly a lesser sign of the Apocalypse.” Genji pushed back to his feet and offered him a hand up, which he accepted. “Are you okay?”

No. “I’ll be fine,” Hanzo lied with great sincerity. “I probably should have picked either the Tex-Mex or the dim sum, but not both. Bad decision making on my part.”

“Well, at least you’re grown up enough to admit it.” Genji held onto his arm for the rest of the walk. “Where are you going when you’re done in the studio?”

“The library. I’ve got some research yet to do.” The depths of the Kaplan building yawned before him like the heretofore unsuspected entrance to the Underworld.

Genji made a point of obviously texting that information to the rest of the household. “...We also might wanna kinda call the police again. I let the officer in charge know that you weren’t missing-missing and she left me a voicemail saying they’d like to talk to you to confirm that fact. I just found it this morning.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes heavenward. “Number?”

Genji sent it over and offered him a crooked smile. “Be careful, aniki .”

“I promise I won’t drink my paint water.”

“Or fall asleep.”

Hanzo shuddered. “Not yet anyway. Go to class, Genji.”

The fine arts studios were located on Kaplan Hall’s upper floors, the best to take advantage of its relatively exposed position on the south-westernmost edge of campus and the significantly longer exposure to natural light thus afforded. Hanzo made his way quietly through the corridors where at least two early morning art history seminars were already in progress, avoiding the elevators that sounded like the mournful dying song of some beautifully tragic deep sea creature no matter how freshly maintenanced they might be, and took the stairs to his second floor studio slot. Fortunately for the continuing unsettled state of both his stomach and his sanity, his thesis advisor was likely hip-deep in holoslides in front of one of those seminars right now and if he locked the door and turned on the external sound suppression she would correctly interpret that as Do Not Disturb Art Is Trying To Happen and accost him at their scheduled meeting. Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than Try To Make Art Happen thanks very much to the present state of his bedroom and most assuredly not while locked inside a soundproofed chamber whose emergency access keys were some of the most frequently misplaced items in the entire college. He did not want to contemplate the wreckage of human folly while standing on the brink of exposing his own venality, the stupidity and arrogance that Genji had forgiven him, whose consequences he could never undo. He was not ready yet to give up the warm comfort of the others’ kind regard, could feel a part of him trying to crawl away under some internal rock and die at the thought of Zenyatta’s quiet all-encompassing compassion turning to disgust. Or the ranger. He had to plant his back against the corridor wall and clench his jaw against a stomach-churning rush of nausea as his entirely too vivid imagination painted that reaction shot against the insides of his skull. Which, admittedly, might have made for a strikingly personal and heartfelt contrast piece to the sterility of industrial-scale desolation but at the moment it primarily made him want to curl up in the crawlspace under the back stairwell and cry until he drowned in his own phlegm.

He did not, in the end, lock himself in the studio/potential supernatural deathtrap or cry his face off under the stairs. Instead, he peered over the lower edge of the nearest exterior window to make certain Genji wasn’t lurking in the courtyard, taped a note to the studio door that it was unoccupied and free to use, and fled to the library for the sanctuary to be found in research and the stringently enforced lack of interaction with other human beings.

Hanzo took possession of a carrel close to the windows in one of the second floor study rooms, slotted his tablet into the physical network interface, and connected, pulling up the local news sites he had bookmarked the night before. Cora Hernandez had not been miraculously found in the one night since he became aware of both her existence and her disappearance. In fact, all the most current news suggested that the state police and the rangers were preparing to shift from “search and rescue” to “search and recovery,” now that the temperatures were dropping consistently into the thirties by night. Even a reward for useful information offer well north of a hundred thousand dollars had yielded no new clues to her whereabouts. Her parents looked as though they had aged a decade in a few weeks, her mother pale and distraught, and he could only imagine her agony. In the back of his mind, a soft, small voice wondered idly how much effort his own parents would have assigned to the task of finding him, or his body, and how long they would have bothered. The lord and lady of the Shimada-gumi were, in the end, fairly brutal in their pragmatism and wasting more than they had to on a bad investment was never their way. Genji would never stop and he ruthlessly crushed that thought before it could go any further and closed the news tab, refusing to indulge in the thought of what would happen if his brother encountered the thing that attacked him unaware of its nature and there he was imagining it in vivid, horrifying detail and this was definitely one of those days when it didn’t pay to be a Fine Art Masters candidate. It took a long moment of heavy peace-stress breathing and thinking fixedly of nothing but a horde of kittens and puppies gamboling together in a field of wildflowers to distract himself from the increasingly Memlingesque products of his mind’s eye.

The small furry creatures and oxygen supersaturation eventually had the desired effect and his hands were at least reasonably steady as he activated the carrel’s interface surfaces and requested access to several of the library’s more specialized databases. UNM owned a cultural anthropology department unrivaled in the west, even by the University of California system, and if there was anywhere he could go to cure his ignorance on a number of topics, it was definitely here, in its repository for thousands of books and even more scholarly articles and original sources. He brought up the anthropological database’s internal search engine, set his fingers on the holokeys, and hesitated.

If he stopped here, the voice of sweet reason murmured in the back of his mind, it ended here. Genji would call the ranger, and he would come to sort out what was wrong at the house. He would finish the rest of his medicine and his soul would never go wandering away from his body again and in a half a year he would graduate and move to some corner of the world where the ghosts and demons of the desert would never cross his path again. And that would be the best, for himself and everyone else, except the next unlucky soul to fall under that thing’s eye, who might not have rescue as close or as capable.

If he did not stop here, that same voice murmured with a significantly sharper edge to its tone, if he insisted upon continuing to look , then he was asking the nameless thing that saw him, that saw him and stalked him and attacked him, to continue doing so. It might even, perhaps, be an invitation to more of such things. He was, that voice hissed, risking taking a door, already cracked, and throwing it all the way open and inviting whatever waited in the dark beyond inside. And for what? He was nothing and had even less to offer and he punched in his first search queries to the sound of sweet reason’s howling despair, watched the results scroll up his screen with a certain cold satisfaction curling in his gut. There was, to put it mildly, a lot. He set is phone to give him a twenty minute warning on the five o’clock hour and dove in head first.

*

The phone pulsed out its incoming text vibration ten minutes before the alarm was set to go off. Hanzo separated himself from what he was reading with almost physical difficulty and felt about for it blindly, blinking after-images out of his eyes as the difference in illumination made itself felt. The study room he’d chosen was on the eastern side of the library, the sky an arch if rich blue twilight under the high overcast on the other side of the windows; in another hour it would be as truly dark outside as it was in the study, his desk a lone island of light. Something about that, once he realized how alone he was just now, sent an icy sharp finger sliding the length of his spine.

Where are you? The text was, predictably, from Genji.

Library, finishing up for now. Hanzo replied, as he did, in fact, finish downloading the last of the assortment of books and articles he’d requested. You?

On my way to the Student Union. Want me to meet you? It had, even in text, a certain air of desperately-attempting-to-be-casual that Hanzo could not help but find heartwarming.

Certainly. I’ll be in the front vestibule.

He slotted his tablet back in its case, gathered up his pile of handwritten notes, tucked them all into his bag and headed downstairs -- where all the people he’d expected to find engaging in frantic last-minute-before-midterms research/study binges clustered together around the reference desks, sitting eight to a table in a state of cross-disciplinary detente almost unheard of in modern academia, business majors sitting shoulder to shoulder with paint-thinner-scented artsy types, future employees of Los Alamos National Laboratory sharing their research space with the poli-sci wonks who would eventually make their professional lives miserable. The atmosphere was palpably tense, conversation low and not restricted to scholastic topics, and came to a complete halt as campus security -- armed campus security, Hanzo couldn’t help but notice -- cruised through the ground floor on patrol. He stepped into the vestibule and, as he waited, he couldn’t help but notice, amid the flyers advertising the annual all-college Halloween party at the Student Union and underclassmen desperately searching for non-flaky roommates for the rest of the academic year, a substantial number of Have You Seen This Person holo-leaflets. Cora Hernandez and her incredible reward, of course, but also at least eight others, some recent, within the last month or two, some from last year but still on display. He knew, pragmatically, that at least a few of them weren’t actually missing -- most missing people were, like him, not so much missing as temporarily misplaced -- and yet he couldn’t quite fight down the shiver as he contemplated them, their pictures almost all high school graduation photographs, and quietly hoped most of them had run away to Tisch School of the Arts or with a perfectly wonderful significant other their parents inexplicably disapproved of and not any of the other possible options.

Something hit the glass of the vestibule windows a few inches from his head and it was only the gift of parental disappointment inspired self-control that prevented him from screaming and diving for cover. Also: the iridescent flash of Genji’s eyes in the light of the security lamps. Neither, however, prevented him from plastering himself against the back vestibule wall and suffering a minor coronary event because, in his most recent experience, glowing yellow-green eyes were not necessarily a source of comfort. “Earth to Space Station Shimada, come in Hanzo.”

“You are the worst brother on the face of the Earth.” Hanzo informed him, testily, as he peeled himself away from the wall under the astonished gazes of approximately three dozen of their peers, four librarians, and a security guard.

“I’ve been texting you to come out for the last four minutes.” Genji replied in a tone of sickeningly sweet sweetness as he held the library door open. “And I don’t mind telling you at this point that I think your situational awareness could use some improvement and it’s no wonder you almost got eaten by an extradimensional tentacle monster.”

“The more I think about it, the more I’m sure there aren’t any actual tentacles.” Hanzo muttered. “And you’re right about the situational awareness thing. I was totally ignoring my phone.”

“ Wow. You actually just admitted that I was right about something twice in one day. The world is completely going to end, you should ask your ranger out sooner rather than later.” Genji flashed him a shit-eating grin that Hanzo had to physically resist the urge to hit with his bookbag.

“He’s not my ranger.” Hanzo replied and it was seriously starting to sound like he was trying to convince himself of that which was, all things taken together, just completely and utterly sad. “And I thought you were harboring an intense preconceived dislike of him for reasons beyond my comprehension?”

“Four days, Hanzo. Anyway, I don’t like him but I have talked to him and he apologized sincerely for not contacting anybody and I filled him in on the situation as it currently stands.” Genji continued breezily on and Hanzo came to a complete halt in the middle of the sidewalk, to the annoyance of the pedestrians immediately behind him.

“ What did you tell him? ” He could not quite keep the panic out of his voice but he did, at least, not give himself away in English.

Genji stopped, glanced back over his shoulder, and turned all the way around. “Only what you gave up at breakfast this morning.” Hanzo could feel his face doing things in response to that, things he could not particularly control, and while he was trying, Genji came back. “Really, aniki , just the facts, I promise. Telling him how utterly and transparently into him you are would actually constitute a form of mental cruelty not sibling hijinks.”

Hanzo took a shaky breath and let the arm his brother tucked across his shoulders and the length of his brother’s stride set the pace. “Thank you.”

Genji flicked a look out of the corner of his eyes. “You’re welcome. You know it’s not actually wrong to desire human contact, right? I mean, I’m completely willing to let this guy grow on me. Or another guy. Or another girl. Or basically any combination of other humans plus you so long as you’re happy, okay?”

“Can we not have this conversation just now, please?” The Student Union came into view and he caught a glimpse of Hana’s bubble-gum pink light up headphones in the middle of a cluster of underclassmen in the quad courtyard outside. “What did he say?”

“Let’s wait on that until we’re all together.” Genji’s hand closed around his own and pulled him to a halt. “I promise I’ll try to like him.”

“You don’t have to like him. I don’t have to like him. It’s actually probably better for all of us if we kept any liking to a bare and professional minimum because anything else will lead to tears and heartache and I honestly cannot deal with this right now, Genji. ” He tugged, gently, and his brother followed this time. “Maybe if we’d met any other way -- “ Genji snorted audibly. “Or maybe not but in any case -- “

“In any case what?” Hana asked, as she separated herself from her small army of hangers-on and tucked herself in on Hanzo’s other side. “Lucio and Zen are upstairs getting a table in the dining hall, by the way. What kept you two?”

“Unnecessary relationship drama.” Hanzo replied succinctly.

“ Very necessary relationship drama.” Genji responded, because the day had not yet dawned on the circumstances that would lead his brother to not contradict him just because.

“You spent the last eight hours talking yourself out of telling Ranger McDreamy that you like the way his jeans fit, didn’t you?” Hana asked, tone mournful, and it was only her firm grip on one arm and Genji’s on the other that kept him from fleeing into the night. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. If you weren’t the only person in this household who’s never had a screaming vodka-fueled breakup phone call at three in the morning, I’d be considering an intervention right now.”

“No, that is not how I spent the last eight hours.” Hanzo sighed, too weary even for indignation. “And I roll to disbelieve that Zenyatta has ever had a screaming vodka-fueled anything.”

“You have a point -- Zen is way too...Zen...to raise his voice except when -- “

“ Stop. Stop right there. ”

Hana giggled evilly, Genji laughed outright, and Hanzo cast a pleading glance heavenward and a prayer for forgiveness in the direction of a thousand generations of all their cringing ancestors.

In a display eerily similar to that of the library, no one was sitting alone or, for that matter, even walking alone, and thus the three of them entering the dining hall basically arm-in-arm-in arm attracted no particular attention whatsoever. Lucio spotted them as they came in the door and waved them over to the table he and Zenyatta had claimed next to the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the courtyard.

“Dr. Saddind-Maas asked me to give you her best, Hanzo,” Zenyatta said by way of greeting, “And she hopes that you’re feeling better after your terrible ordeal in the desert and also eight other things equally urgent and I frankly suggest you check your email at some point if only to reassure her of your continued existence.”

“I thought I did that already.” Hanzo self-defensively dropped into the chair between Zen and Lucio, fished his tablet out, and found twenty-three brand-new URGENT tagged emails, all of them from his redoubtable, incisively clever, tragically absent-minded thesis advisor who had, in fact, only processed the implications of his absence from the lecture hall after he’d drawn it to her attention. “...And this is another thing I can’t deal with right now.”

“What’s the first thing?” Lucio asked, handing him a paper plate loaded down with the greasiest imaginable dining hall pizza.

“His total failure of nerve when it comes to strategizing an effective pass at Ranger McDoMe.” Hana replied from around a mouthful of french fries.

“ Dude.” Lucio gazed pityingly at him over the top of his glasses. “That’s something we can all help with, you know.”

Hanzo closed his eyes, took the longest, deepest breath in the history of cleansing inhalations and heroically refrained from expelling it in a scream. “Thank you, I will take that under advisement. Genji, you had something you wanted to say once we were all together again?”

“That I do.” Genji grinned the world’s most malicious little brother grin. “I called the Ranger and gave him the scoop on what happened at the house. He agrees that, given the circumstances, it’s surpassingly strange and probably dangerous and that absolutely none of us should go back there by ourselves until he’s had a chance to examine it personally. He has politely requested that we meet him and a couple of his colleagues there around sevenish, to which I agreed, and he also suggests that we not sleep there tonight no matter what, because he’s a little doubtful that this situation is going to get resolved in a manner not destructive of our regular schedules. Because why would it?”

“I knew we all should have packed an overnight bag this morning.” Hana groused into her pizza.

“If the ranger doesn’t want us to go back into the house, we will think of something.” Zenyatta soothed soothingly and Hanzo, at least, found his spine bending somewhat involuntarily under the power of it. “I spoke to a colleague of mine about our situation, and she is willing to allow us the use of her family’s vacation cabin for at least the next several days, if necessary.”

“Vacation cabin? Where’s it at?” Lucio asked.

“Just inside Santa Fe National Forest. I told my colleague that our landlord was seized by the sudden desire to repaint the entire condo and that we would need to vacate for at least a few days until the work was done.” A wry smile. “She seemed to find that entirely believable and only asks that we make certain the any dishes we use are washed and put away before we leave.”

“That’d be really helpful if we could do that. I’d just need to sign out some recording equipment from the lab before we go…” Lucio pulled out his phone and sent out a message. “We’ve got most of what Cora was working on before...whatever happened happened but we’re still short a couple hours of ambient sound design and if I could get some good recordings while we’re out in the country -- “

“Is that what she was doing on the project? Sound design?” Hana asked and accepted the tablet when Lucio handed it to her.

“Yeah, and she was pretty awesome at it, too.” Wistfully, and a quick glance around the room. “I heard a rumor this morning that the security footage review came back and an order came down from Administration a few hours later bumping up the security patrol presence on campus.”

“Yeah,” Hana agreed. “Along with a politely worded request that students stay together after dark and locking down the campus residences at sundown.”

“Why?” Hanzo asked, mystified.

Lucio’s voice sank to a level just above the background chatter. “Rumor also has it that the security monitoring network caught something going down on campus that got missed on cursory review, or overlooked because her car was found.”

“Have any of the rest of you seen those MIB greyfaces hanging around? They’re not campus rentacops or regular Santa Fe PD.” Hana leaned in as well. “They had a tech crew with them putting up some kind of receiver mast on the roof of game design main. Knocked us offline for, like, two whole hours.”

“They’re not cops. I’ve talked to a couple of them -- they’re a private contractor doing some research for the labs up at Los Alamos. Just a second, I’ve got a card -- “ Genji dug out his wallet, and laid a rectangle of intimidatingly black laminate, etched in blood red and lined in metallic silver: Technological Advancement and Logistical Operations Network, along with a contact number. “Something about anomalous electromagnetic readings, I think?”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Hanzo muttered and immediately drew the collective attention of the table.

“Why?” Genji asked warily, sliding the card back into his pocket.

“It might be nothing.” Hanzo replied and pulled out his own tablet, thumbing it open. “Or it might not. Or it might be related to something I heard recently and -- “

“ Hanzo. ”

“Okay, fine. This gets pretty involved, try not to fall asleep.” He pulled up a handful of holoscreens. “Have any of you ever heard of the Red Zone? In relation to here, the southwestern United States?” Three blank looks and one carefully guarded neutral one met that question -- Zenyatta was not a man with whom he would wish to play poker. He selected the map screen and flicked it open to the range of easy legibility. “The term dates from the time of the Omnic Crisis -- this,” He tapped the thick red line neatly bisecting the screen, “is US Hyperlane 40. During the Crisis, everything south of it in New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas was designated the Red Zone, the potential route for the Omnic forces from the Nezahualcóyotl Omnium and the Brownsville Omnium to take north toward Los Alamos National Laboratory and Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado.” The blank looks became slightly less blank as the contents freshman year survey of American history seminars came flooding back. “Largest civilian evacuation in history, massive military buildup along the Hard Red Line, clash of human versus machine forces, I see this is ringing a bell. It’s why Albuquerque is still a pile of rubble belonging to the US military and why large chunks of extreme southern Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas, and the Mexican provinces closest to the US border, are only sparsely populated even now. The government actually paid people not to move back after the Crisis was over and the only ones who stayed, or came back, were the ones with the strongest ties to the area. Like the Mescalero Apache, just to pick an example, and the people who resettled Alamogordo.”

“What does this have to do with -- “ Hana began and Hanzo pulled up another screen: missing persons statistics in convenient graphical form.

“Even allowing for the massive post-Crisis population dispersal, this entire region , the area that was once in or around the Red Zone, has a missing persons rate anywhere between six to ten times the national average.” He touched the map and lit the places with the highest statistical concentrations. “Maybe higher, because most of the communities further south of here don’t get a lot of official support and that’s probably skewing results. If an entire small freehold or farming co-op goes missing and the authorities aren’t there to notice or report it, does it still make a statistical blip? Probably not and nobody but the nearest neighbors will actually care. And another thing? This has been going on for years. Decades, at least, possibly centuries. Since well before the Crisis though in statistically smaller numbers.”

“You just outed yourself as, like, four different kinds of nerd right now, I hope you realize that.” Genji remarked dryly. “So what does this have to do with the electromagnetic wackiness?”

“The electromagnetic wackiness, and the disappearances, have been known things around here since before colonization.” Hanzo replied, flatly. “Since before recorded history as Europeans consider it. Every indigenous culture that set up long-term housekeeping in this region recognized that the fabric of reality here was...weird and liminal in a not particularly friendly way. Even the Conquistadores who came here looking for the Seven Cities of Gold realized it and they kept written records. In modern times, it bled into UFO-related conspiracy theoretics -- strange lights in the sky, unexplainable sounds from beneath the Earth, campers vanishing without a trace and never being seen again. These aren’t new phenomena, they’re very old ones being interpreted differently, through a more scientific lens. The electromagnetic disturbances may be the precursor event to disappearance outbreaks -- organized disturbances have, apparently, been spiking upward in the area for at least the last ten weeks, if not longer. Los Alamos National Laboratory is monitoring it now.”

“Aliens.” Genji said, tone planed completely empty of expression.

“The word naayéé is Navajo. It literally means ‘alien monster.’ Things from beyond this world, that are unnatural to it , which are hostile to humanity and view us as their prey.” He opened a third screen and pulled up the mythological compilation files, rolling his sleeves back to the elbow to keep them out of the way as he flipped pages. “The Navajo in particular recognized and named dozens of different kinds, they had a whole complex taxonomy of types and individual creatures -- “ He flipped a page and Hana squeaked in audible distress. “Some of the worst they considered gods -- hungry, predatory, alien monster gods that drove humanity nearly to extinction in prehistory. Like Déélgééd the Horned Monster -- “ He flipped a page and Lucio half rose out of his seat. “Or Tsé Nináhálééh the Monster Eagle -- “ He flipped another and Zenyatta audibly caught his breath. “Or Bináá’yee Aghání the Monsters That Kill With Their Eyes -- “

“ Hanzo .” Genji’s tone was strangled, his grip was tight, and he pinned Hanzo’s arm to the table out of the view of the rest of the room.

Staring up from the middle of his left forearm, surrounded by the painfully twisted, hideously distorted lines of the tattoo he’d worn since his fifteenth birthday, was a single greenish-yellow eye. It twitched, visibly, beneath the surface of the skin, lines of ink contorting horribly around it and Hanzo’s head went dangerously light as it fixed on his face, tried to meet his gaze, serpentine pupil contracting to a single hair-fine slit as it did so.

Zenyatta’s hands, cool against the skin of his cheeks, bodily turned his head away; warm hazel eyes caught and held his own. “ Do not look. ” Then, slightly louder, “ None of you. Genji?”

“Calling.” His brother’s voice was tight, low and fierce. “Hello, Ranger McCree? We have a...somewhat larger problem.” A pause. “ This kind of problem.”

Over the line, from a vast and rapidly darkening distance, he heard Ranger Jesse McCree very distinctly say, “ Fuck. ”

[cashthecomposer]

Almost all of these are from Frankenstein (if not all of them- I can't confirm all of the single word once, but all of the long phrases are def from good ol' Franky). I can't confirm where the list is from (here's a similar one though https://www.webpages.uidaho.edu/monsters/moro/lectures/McKeever%20on%20Frankenstein.htm ), but I can confirm a sentiment that is commonly shared by many that is probably the point of this list: that most of these changes are for the better... except that's just not true.

A lot of Percy's language is overly flowerly and meant to sound elevated, while Mary's language is far more straight forward, terse, and easy to understand- and not easy to misunderstand. More importantly, her language is colloquial, used by the common man, not just prissy pretty boys with a great education. Here's an example given by the link above:

Here is Mary on Frankenstein's fascination with supernatural phenomena:

Nor were these my only visions.  The raising of ghosts or devils was also a favorite pursuit and if I never saw any I attributed it rather to my own inexperience and mistakes than want of skill in my instructors.

And here is Percy's revision:

Nor were these my only visions.  The raising of ghosts or devils was a promise liberally accorded by my favorite authors, the fulfillment of which I most eagerly sought; and if my incantations were always unsuccessful, I attributed the failure rather to my own inexperience and mistake, than to a want of skill or fidelity in my instructors.

At first glance, these changes merely seem to flesh out the meaning only hinted towards within her proposed paragraph, while at the same time providing a 'needed' elevation in terms of verbiage. Or I could just say, these changes provide detail and make it sound more pretentious. You see how I'm saying the same thing, but it has a difference in intonation?

Yeah, that's why I don't like Percy's edits. Because aside from grammar and spelling things (bc Mary may have been a lil bit dyslexic, imo), a lot of his changes don't just change the words used, they also add context that she didn't necessarily intend, and can change the intonation of a statement, sometimes creating frustrating results. And wouldn't ya know, this paragraph gives us several examples.

The differences in this particular paragraph, and my thoughts on them:

was also a favorite pursuit -> was a promise liberally accorded by my favorite authors, the fulfillment of which I most eagerly sought

A favorite pursuit implies more than just 'something I like to do'. The history of the word 'favorite' at the time actually has a lot to do with a particular person, hence its use in the description of raising a ghost, but it also refers to something bound to win, such as a favorite horse in a race. 'Pursuit', on the other hand, has a far more nefarious history- usually, it implies a negative connotation, especially back in the 1800's- remember, it's directly related to the word 'persecution' in root. But the common man won't think about this- they'll just have those subconscious links to those ideas in the back of their mind as they read just two little words, which imply very simply that it is a chase he wants to win.

Percy on the other hand reframes this internal endeavor into something externally motivated, by whatever authors- which brings into question what research Vicky is conducting to find these ghosts, among other questions. Additionally, the words 'fulfillment' and 'eagerly' both imply a positive rather than negative connotation, and are rather blithe compared to the intensity of the word 'favorite'. 'Seek' versus 'pursue' is a direct and obvious comparison- one implies something one is looking for, the other implies something one is actively chasing after. That word, active, is the key here.

Mary's language is direct and coarse, and it shows internal, active motivation. Percy's, on the other hand, is indirect, positive, and externally and passively motivated. Big difference right off the bat.

and if I never saw any -> and if my incantations were always unsuccessful

Jesus Christ Percy. There's a difference between seeing ghosts/devils, and 'incantations always [being] unsuccessful'. Any mystic will tell you that yo, ghosts aren't going to show up with a sheet and introduce themselves with flashing lights. There's going to be maybe a flickering candle, a whisper in the wind, a sudden chill, a flutter in your heart. Who's to say Vicky's never experienced any of that? He probably has, but he's never *seen* anything, which he wants.

Percy implies, no, outright states that he's always unsuccessful, completely ignoring any nuance *by trying to create nuance unnecessarily* I mean, my dude, what the fuck.

i attributed it -> I attributed the failure

'It' here refers to the 'never seeing any'- just providing further context for the previous statement via this next clause. Percy on the other hand describes this 'failure' which, again, undermines any amount of research or otherworldly experience Vicky's ever had.

inexperience -> inexperience and mistake

Well here he's just openly adding things. Where did she imply that Victor Freaking Frankenstein makes any mistakes? The dude is meticulous. No, he's not a doctor yet, but he's fucking brilliant and only left school because of family tragedy AND THEN RAISED THE DEAD BY CREATING LIFE ITSELF FROM ???? Percy. Percy. Please. This guy doesn't make mistakes.

Research wise, anyways. Morally? Oh, well, then. Hooooooo boy you have no idea. But not here, not with this.

What always gets Vicky is inexperience- a lot of this book is about 'uncharted territory', both for Vicky and his creature- but Percy often frames naivety as mistakes and failures, simply because... he likes adding words to make sentences longer and more polysyllabic, as above.

than want of skill in my instructors -> than to a want of skill or fidelity in my instructors

Skill: implies knowledge and its application

Fidelity: faithfulness and trust, implying both a care for the effort and the student

SO Mary's implying that the instructors may just not know enough about the world beyond (but Vicky's dismissing that possibility out of respect), while Percy's implying intentional neglect through distrust of Vicky, or worse, unintentional neglect via being careless in their instruction (but mentioning it out of??? there's a big difference when you list more than one potential thing). Right after he apparently fawned over his 'favorite authors'. My dude. Shut the fuck up, you're contradicting yourself.

So essentially, we go from a simple paragraph on how this dude wants to raise ghosts (potentially to a fault, it's implied) at his own motivation and expense, and hopes that his research is enough to eventually warrant a big return that he could visibly see, as he has trust in his instruction... to a far more complex paragraph on how this dude has read some books about ghosts and shit and therefore thinks that's kinda cool but he's never experienced shit and it's DEF not because his instructors are both cagey and lazy, noooooo that's not it /s.

Sigh.

Anyways I have a lot of feelings about how Percy essentially wanted Mary to become a second version of himself, when she was essentially poised to otherwise be a young feminist British Hemingway in need of merely a copyeditor.

does anyone know where this extract comes from tho it's eating at me 😂

btw it's really hilarious and interesting

(and why i JUST CANNOT LEAVE COMMENTS under you guys' blogs!;(((

[spaceyflowerswriting]

ADRIEN MY BELOVED <3 Feel free to ignore this

‘Sfw’ teasing James or James teasing us idk

With this plot ykykwimehjehdi

what a tease (james lee x reader)

details: fluffy oneshot with some spice, gender neutral reader written in 2nd pov, general canon au but this takes place back in james's earlier middle schooler red-hair days, you and james are best friends but he has a crush on you

warning: mildly spicy. light teasing and touching ^_^

summary: your best friend annoys you during class.

a/n: HII <3 dw i love ur requests !! 💖 also "sfw" nah i see you 😭😭 i offer you this in these trying times 🙏

×

"Psst."

14th time. That was the 14th time he tried to get your attention. And now he was repeatedly poking your back. Annoyance bubbled up in you and you waited for the teacher to look away before turning back to hiss at him, "What?"

He grinned and waved a hand. "I'm bored."

"I know."

"Then chat with me or something."

"Am I... what's the word?" Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Your special court jester or something? Am I just here to entertain you?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

Okay, you kind of walked into that one. You just said, "At least pay me or something," before turning around. Next thing you knew, you felt something poking your shoulder, but it definitely wasn't a finger. You turned back to look and see James practically shoving his wallet in your face.

"Don't give me that look, you said you wanted money."

If it weren't for being in class and causing collateral damage, you would be swinging him into the next room.

While he kept his grin, you kept your annoyed expression on and faced forward again.

Then, a blessing came. For a moment, you finally found peace.

For a moment.

You paused your writing as soon as you felt James's finger poke your back again--except this time it didn't move away. It was like he was keeping you in suspense so naturally, you tensed up, wondering what he was about to do. Immediately you regretted that though because the simple swipe of his finger on your back made you flinch from surprise.

The teacher gave you a confused look. With warm cheeks, you plastered on a smile and tried to wave her off, mouthing, "Sorry!" Her eyes still held concern but she continued class. Unfortunately, she was still facing the students so you didn't want to risk turning back to yell at James.

He took the chance to mess with you more, and you shivered again when he slid his finger up. You swore you could hear him snickering.

"This bastard..."

You struggled to sit still from how weirdly ticklish the feeling was, to the point you had to grab onto the side of your desk for support. Internally swearing up a storm, you slowly began to realize he was writing something on your back. You tried to concentrate to see if you could figure it out but focusing on the tracing of his finger only made the ticklish feeling more intense.

"Any questions?" The teacher looked around the classroom to see students shaking their heads and then finally she turned around.

Relief washed over you and you jerked your head back to glare at your currently very annoying friend.

He was still pointing a finger at you. And he still had that stupid grin.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

You shook a fist at him. "When we're out of here, I'm gonna knock you out."

James moved his hand back to rest his chin on his palm, propping up his head. "Oh yeah? Try me."

"Just you wait." That was your warning before you told yourself that would be the last time you'd turn back and faced forward once again.

"Hey, aren't you curious about what I wrote?"

You ignored him. He made a low whistle. Whether it was in disappointment or not didn't really matter to you. Nonetheless, he continued to bother you but because you didn't give him any more attention, he became slightly less annoying.

When the teacher finished her lecture and announced it was independent work time, you took in a deep breath and looked back at James.

His grin was finally wiped off, instead replaced with his usual stoic look. He was doodling on a corner of his notebook.

"James."

He looked up at you and the tiniest smirk made its way onto his lips. "What?"

"Sit here." You pointed at the empty seat next to you. "I don't trust you sitting behind me anymore."

He merely shrugged before standing up and doing as you asked. "You want me to poke your shoulder instead or something?"

"Go ahead. You won't get away with annoying me if you don't have me to hide behind."

"Ahh, so that's how it is. Okay." He leaned back on his chair, arms crossed behind his head. His eyes glanced around at the other students, either working diligently or chatting with friends. "You know we're still sitting in the back of the classroom, right? A quiet little corner, all on our own?"

You squinted your eyes at him, not appreciating how amused he sounded. "Yeah?"

He chuckled. "Alright. Keep that in mind."

Whatever that meant, you weren't really sure, but for whatever reason it made your heartbeat speed up a little, and not in a way you'd like to admit. You just bit the inside of your cheek in frustration and tried to ignore it by going back to your schoolwork. You didn't have to think too much about it though because James was quick to bother you again. Not that that was a good thing, either.

"Very funny," you said nonchalantly as he poked your shoulder. You didn't make any reaction to him sliding his finger in little motions. "That won't work anymore, you know."

"Aw, really? How about..." He scooted a little closer to you with his chair. You paid him no mind. "Here?"

His hand being placed on your thigh nearly made you yelp. "James!" You were hissing again, looking at him with very warm cheeks.

Tilting his head, he smirked and slid his hand up to your knee before only having his index finger be present as it tapped on your knee. Despite the mischievous look on his face, it was somehow unreadable.

You gulped, nervousness running through your veins. With the current situation, that might as well have been what your heart was quickly pumping out instead of blood.

"Wanna make a deal?" Aggressive silence from you did little to deter him from whatever evil plan he had in mind. "I'll stop bothering you if you win."

What a lovely deal. If only it wasn't coming from him.

"Pinkie promise." He lifted his hand from your knee to hold up said finger. His smirk was anything but sincere.

Should you trust him? Absolutely not, but at this point your feelings were getting the best of you so you irrationally agreed. After locking pinkies with him and pulling apart, you tried to convince yourself James was an asshole, but at least he never broke a promise. Right?

"Okay. Here's the deal." His hand dropped back down to your thigh and you felt a jump in your heart beat. Despite your nerves, you couldn't get yourself to move away. Did you even want to...? "I'm going to write what I wrote on your back again, and if you guess correctly, I'll stop bothering you. Sound good?"

"...Fine," you replied through gritted teeth.

He hummed happily at your agreement and did the same movement as he did before with his hand. You were doing your best to ignore the warmth rushing throughout you as he did so. Still, you could feel yourself shaking a little again but it wasn't from a funny ticklish feeling, oh no, it was from a place deep inside your mind where you'd rather eat a prickly cactus before admitting it to James of all people.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when the tracing along your thigh began. You murmured the letters under your breath, "I... L... O... V..." Your voice shook alongside your slightly shivering body and as he was beginning to write the next letter, you stopped your letter listing to say, "Hey, you're moving awfully close to--"

He did not stop, however. His finger only inched closer inwards with every letter.

With the temperature of your face rivaling the sun and your heart dangerously close to exploding, you yelled out, "JAMES!"

Your friend's movements finally stopped, and so did the class as nearly every head turned to look at the both of you.

Panic settled in you as the class went silent. You glanced over at James to see he had already removed his hand from your thigh and had that stupidly perfect stoic face back on, compared to your embarrassed, frustrated expression.

"Do you... need a moment?" Your teacher looked concerned again and this time you put on the shittiest fake smile ever.

"No. Sorry." You bowed your head.

"Is James bothering you?" She spoke as if it was a mandatory thing to ask and didn't believe it one bit; of course, who would ever think the respectable #1 student of the entire school would be such a pest?

"No," you repeated. "I'm sorry, again."

"It's okay."

Slowly, everyone in the class went back to their own business. Meanwhile you were screaming internally and James was... ugh, smirking.

You huffed and scooted away from him as far as you could. You also subconsciously pressed your legs together, as if that would protect you from James's wandering hand. The fact you could still feel the little warmth of his finger tracing your thigh just filled you with shame.

No way were you going to feel like that about your best friend.

Class continued as usual and you were trying to calm yourself down. Still, you couldn't stop thinking about James and after the stunt he pulled, his presence next to you was overbearing even with the small distance.

You snapped out of fistfighting your thoughts when you noticed James pass you a note while he was looking down, like he was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. You frowned but eyed the paper anyways.

"Promise I'll stop teasing you now, I just wanted to do that one last thing. Did you guess what I wrote, by the way?"

You grumbled as you grabbed the paper and scribbled back a response.

"No. All I got was you saying you love something."

James managed to look like he was busy at work even as you handed the note back after writing his reply.

"So close! I wrote 'I love you.'" He drew a winky face at the end and seeing it just made you crumple up the paper. When you tossed the mini paperball at his head, he laughed quietly and turned to give you... a genuinely innocent smile?

Your stomach churned and you looked away before his natural charms got to you.

"I'm sick of this guy." You weren't.