#just. if i had a daughter who repeatedly told me there was an adult man hanging around she was Terrified of.

[buffyspeak]

god i get so mad thinking about spencer's family in late season 1. has it occurred to you that maybe??? if your daughter is regularly crying and telling you she doesn't feel safe with her sister's husband or whatever and that she literally thinks he's a murderer?? whether or not you believe that??? there is probably something wrong and he should probably not be staying at your house for the sake of her safety and well-being.

and if you happen to find out it turns out they had a 'relationship' (aka a grown man pursued an underage girl) about a year prior, consider that she's not the perpetrator or the villain. and you should again. be kicking that man out of your house. at the VERY least.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey Writers of ATSV, STOP letting White Men off the hook and expecting me to clap.

The fact that Miguel is repeated dehumanized and called an animal even prior to him snapping but George Stacy's scenes are written completely sympathetic towards him -

It doesn't sit right with me. Look at this:

They call Miguel an animal in the opening scenes.

At this point, he's not a threat to anyone but Vulture. In this scene, Miguel is doing exactly what he's supposed to do as Spider-man.

He gets called an animal.

Two pages later it's literal George Stacy holding a gun to his daughters face, and yet it's written completely, 100% sympathetic towards him AND ONLY HIM.

Which like..... Girl... Let me adjust my spectacles because I cannot be reading this right.

He's pointing a loaded gun at his daughter. Gwen is undoubtedly more scared than she's even been in her entire life.

She's confused and desperate, one of our main characters is going through a traumatic event.

The script though? It only cares about George and how he was 'betrayed by his little girl'

As if Gwen isn't her own person.

As if Gwen didn't just save dozens of lives. In a situation where the police could do nothing.

Had Gwen not been there, the police would not have been able to handle Vulture. The threat is subdued - yet he still persists.

It doesn't matter that she just saved multiple lives. It doesn't matter that she's not a threat - or that she's his literal daughter.

What matters is how hard this is for the adult white man with the lethal weapon in his hands.

The scene SHOULD be written from Gwen's point of view. SHE'S the victim.

But no, the white male cop is going through it due to his own emotional incompetency so let's focus on that while calling Miguel an evil animal.

In ATSV both George AND Peter - the two white men in the movie - let Gwen down. They either put her in danger or do nothing as they watch.

George points a gun at her. Peter watches Miguel as he physically assaults Gwen and puts her in the machine, exiling her into homelessness.

Then, he gets to go home to his wife and kids, not even mention to MJ that Gwen and Miles were both assaulted and are now missing. And instead he whines about how he's 'not good at this mentor stuff'.

In ATSV the White Male characters repeatedly fail the people around them with no consequences at all - even from a lot of the audience.

And yeah - Peter Parker is completely neglectful.

To the point it's not okay whatsoever.

I've seen MULTIPLE people say that 'Peter is justified in not helping Gwen during the Go-Home scene. Because Miguel was obviously violent and he's probably scared of him plus he was holding MayDay.'

Which is an excuse that ignores the fact that it's pitiful that GWEN a teenage girl facing homelessness - who is likely weaker than both Peter and Miguel - is more willing to stand up to Miguel than PETER PARKER.

It ignores the fact Miguel would NOT attack a fucking baby. He's a FATHER.

But it's easier to assume the Latino man is a raging, angry, baby killer than to admit the white man is committing neglect.

It baffles me that people will really defend Peter saying 'he was scared - he didn't know what Miguel would do-'

Neither did Gwen. But she still did it.

Because she's a GOOD GUY. Because it mattered to her. Because the people she cared about were getting hurt.

She stood up to Miguel in the face of literal danger and homelessness.

Peter had nothing to lose. He make a joke and shut up when he was told.

Once again: If Gwen and Hobie hadn't come for Peter, we have NO IDEA how long he would've stayed with Miguel. We are given NO INDICATION prior to Gwen's arrival that Peter is actively going to change sides. Or is even really considering it in that moment.

Even in the script Peter shows no remorse or worry for Gwen or Miles at all.

It's as if they don't cross his mind. As if he doesn't care he led Miguel directly to Miles because he forgot he had on a tracking watch. As if what he just witnessed didn't disturb him, as if he isn't worried that Gwen is literally homeless.

All he cares about is him, and his image as mentor.

Like sir, I do not give a DAMN. I might not even give a fuck, if you will.

Shut the fuck up about that mentorship shit 😭😭😭😭 You tryna mentor niggas that's MISSING.

He's like that deadbeat dad that brought you a bike a decade ago at 6 and he still bringing it up asking you why you don't call him 'dad'. Like just because you taught Miles to swing over a year ago doesn't mean you're his mentor mfer. Miles would've learned to swing anyway cause it's literally instinctual and every person bitten eventually learns it by themselves so really Peter wtf 😐

People will scream 'But there's nothing he could do!! Miguel is too scary!!'

One: Peter is one of if not the Spider-person with the most experience. If we assume he was bitten at 18 and he's say 45 now, that's still over 25 years of experience. If he was bitten in high school, that's even more experience.

He has biological powers Miguel doesn't, plus he has years of experience over Miguel - who canonically got his powers as an adult. If anyone in that room can beat Miguel - it's him.

If you're telling me that Peter B. Parker is not only scared of Miguel but he's scared to the point he will not even attempt to question him, even though three people younger than him will - Gwen, Hobie, and Miles - that's pitiful. That's a sad excuse for a Spider-man.

Also He's Spider-Man. The whole point of Spider-man is he fights even if he isn't sure he can win.

Two: At the very least, he can show that he's genuinely concerned for the kids he wants to mentor so bad. But he doesn't even do that. Even bringing them up or saying their names doesn't cross his mind.

But once again, the white male character emotionally neglecting those around him - especially the children who depend on him - and both he are George are either shown as innocent, unwilling to act, or the script is outright sympathetic towards them.

It's easy to call the Latino man an animal but writing a scene in which a white cop is rightfully portrayed as selfish is too hard.

It's easy to call the Latino man a monster but writing Peter Parker as a heroic figure is too hard.

The racism is not just towards Miguel. It's also in the blatant favoritism the white male characters are given.

Both George and Peter actively endanger those around them and at no point do they do something on their own accord that helps anybody but themselves.

Gwen has to go to her father - by force. Gwen has to go to Peter - using Hobie's hard work.

What we NOT GONNA DO is give the white man praise when it's literally the black guy who did all the work.

Fuck - Hobie mentored Gwen TEN TIMES MORE than Peter ever did Miles. Hobie put a roof over Gwen's head and came to get her when no other person would.

Writers, stop trying to make me sympathetic towards the white men who actively hurt the people around them when there's good mentors like Hobie and good parents like Rio and Jeff.

I ain't with the shits'. If anyone is an animal in this script, it's the man who pointed a gun at his daughter.

I guess assaulting and mentally scaring children is only okay if you do it with a firearm? Or if you make this face while doing it 🥺*

(*coupon not available for the melinated)

I changed my mind i don't forgive Peter or George. Miguel who has a whole ass arc of life and death and loss gets called an animal while the white cop with six minutes of screentime gets shown as father of the year while holding a loaded gun to a child girl you must be kidding me

Maybe Gwen would be in a better mood if we let her kick their asses idk 🤷🏾

[kandyzee]

Something I hate when u try defend Debbie, Mandy, Karen, fiona and even Monica is how someone will always come back with the "Frank was abused and you hate him🤡" like yes I do!! Cause its different.

Debbie, mandy and Karen are all teenage girls who show that they have grown from their actions and are better after! Frank is a old man who has had his whole life to work through his trauma and get better. Frank didn't do something wrong and change for the better (in the space or a couple years) like the girls. He forced Monica to keep fiona and did it YEARS later with Carl too. Frank didn't just 1 or 2 horrible things, he did hundreds.

And can we talk about how Frank is a massive factor to why Debbie, fiona, Monica are the way they are?? Frank didn't break the cycle and he abused his kids and his partner. The other 3 actively try not to do that! Debbie is a fantastic mum she's not perfect, but she would never tell her kid to sleep with an adult or insult and belittle her. LIKE FRANK. Fiona spends her life till she is 28 doing everything for her siblings, sure she makes some mistakes, but she would never hurt them on purpose. LIKE FRANK. Monica is a terrible mother, but she tries to get help. She wants to get better, and who is it that almost always pulls her down?? FRANK.

A lot of what Frank does can be explained by his abuse and I really sympathise with him when we meet his mum. I hate that women. But a tragic childhood is not enough for me to forgive a man who has done the following things

-got his very young son kidnapped over a bar bet.

-used a dying woman for money and slept with her knowing she would likely die

-gave his son a bloody nose over a t shirt

-neglected all his children from fionas birth to his own death

-sexually assaulted his wife

-got a convicted pedophile into Congress

-told his underage daughter to sleep with grown adults so that he could sneak into that adults house to sleep

-broke his mental ill wife out of hospital, with the help or his young children

-tricked his son into thinking he had cancer

-tricked his son into being the bio father of 6(?) Kids

-used another mental ill woman for his own enjoyment

-told his own daughter to be "skins" in a game (meaning to take her shirt off 😃)

-forced his 9yr old daughter to become the main carer of all her siblings

-left his 3 very young children on the side of the road while one of them was extremely ill

-lied about being gay to hundreds of people for personal gain

-used ANOTHER mentally ill woman

-became the sponsor to an addict just so he could live with him and later outed him as gay even tho the man wasn't gay ??

-brought monica back into his children's life because he wanted money(he tricked her to coming back)

-has used prostitution services

-steals form pretty much everyone

-repeatedly ignored his youngest daughters attemps at closeness

-hes racist

-seduced his daughter in attempts of getting her liver

-ruined his daughters wedding

-given drugs to a baby with down syndrome

-called CPS on his own kids, particularly forcing his young adult daughter to now legally becoming guardian of her 5 siblings

-creating credit cards under his kids names

-used homeless people to create a second family

-handcuffed his wife to a bed so she couldn't get an abortion

-spiked his kids with drugs

-pretending his kids was homeless and begging with him

-showed clear sexual interest in Karen (a teenage girl)

-tried to strangle his daughter

-He advised Carl to use Chuckie to smuggle drugs, and then gave both of them away for police

-He refused to go Carl's parent night at school, but instead went to Karens

-encouraged his son to be a drug dealer

And that's just what I can remember of the top of my head. So yes FUCK FRANK and love my shameless girls

[renee-writer]

Single Chapter 10

AO3

Brianna’s first year is spent  with her mama. Claire is able to stay home with her as she and her two friends, Glenda and  Kyle, work on transforming Lallybroch into a working bed and breakfast.

 

The old manor house is perfect for it. With Jamie’s  planning, Lallybroch was kept in excellent shape. A bit more modernizing and a deep cleaning and it set up  for a inspection.

 

Before that, Claire meets with her many years removed grandson, Elias Fraser.

 

She lost her breath when she sees him. He is the split of Fergus. It is like her son is here.

 

“Ma’am.” He bows before her.  Brianna looks at him behind her mama’s legs, “and little miss. I am Elias Fraser.”

 

“Claire Fraser and my daughter, Brianna. I am Jamie’s  wife.”

 

Kyle told him that the current owner of Lallybroch wanted to meet with him. He had told him nothing else. Now he stands back and watches the reaction.

 

“Jamie? Excuse me ma’am but …”

 

“Please have a seat, Elias.”

 

He does. Claire picks up her daughter and takes a seat across from him. Kyle takes his place to the side of them both.

 

“Now let me explain. It all started after the war. My husband and I came to Scotland for a second honeymoon… It took some time to accept it…the arranged marriage became real… with the war approaching, he sent me away to protect us… I couldn’t have him be her father. She needed to know  who her real father is… when Kyle told me about his arrangements, we knew he had to have survived… I decided to take care of his gift and make sure that those I leave it with are taken care of. I also wanted to make sure Brianna is old enough to travel.”

 

Elias shakes his head, opens and closes his mouth repeatedly before being able to speak.

 

“There were always stories. From the time I was her age,” he smiles at Brianna who frowns at him, burying her head in her mama’s chest, “I heard them. Tales of time travel, of why Lallybroch wasn’t to be sold outside the family. They seemed just tales but, to see you and the bairn, it is obvious that they were more. I have seen your portrait. It used to hang here until it was donated to a museum. The little lass looks like Ellen Fraser, who’s  portrait I have also seen.”

 

“I recall that one. It used to hang in the upstairs corridor.” The relief at his belief has her feeling a bit weak.  Brianna, bored by the adult talk, struggles to get out of her mama’s arms.  Claire let’s her go. 

 

At first, she stands by her mama before toddling over to the stranger. She looks up at him. He smiles at her.  She studies him for a moment before moving to Kyle. She lifts her arms and he lifts her up. From the safe position on her Uncle Kyle’s lap, she studies the new man.

 

“So, you are going back?” He inquires.

 

“If she can travel. Would you like to run Lallybroch Bed and Breakfast? That is what we are turning this into. It seems the best solution. No one has families big enough to need it as a family home. To keep it in the family, it can’t be made into flats. So…”

 

He nods. “That is perfect. You are anxious to get back to him.” He smiles.

 

“Yes, I am. Had he known he would survive, he would have never sent us away. When he did, he provided for us.”

 

“It is safer in this time. Are you sure…”

 

“I have given it some serious thought. It is but, he isn’t here. Her daddy and my husband isn’t . She needs to know him and her big brother, your ancestor, Fergus.”

 

He jerks at this. “Right. You knew him?”

 

“He was or is,” a frown, “our son. An orphan from France, Claudel was his original name, he became Jamie’s  employee before he became our son.  I saw him last right before Culloden Moor. Sent him back here with the deed of secession for her. I see him again in you. Elias, you look so much like him.”

 

“I have always heard that.”

 

“You can believe it. I thought you were Fergus walking through the door.”

[fruiteggsaladit]

Who she is to ME SPECIFICALLY.

Or,

Botan gets 10x times funnier if interpreted as being a 30-something-year-old

Link to tiktok user@johannes2o's "POV: our friend is an airport dad" video on tumblr: https://only-tiktoks.tumblr.com/post/713049563491155968 ; with screenshots of various comments: https://redead-red.tumblr.com/post/716343198278123521

Further thoughts:

.... Okay so I know three out of 4 of these circles are parental figures (technically only two of them are parental figures, the third one is a figure of speech) but I resent when a female character is assigned as the "mum" of the group when she's clearly, at most, if I have to use a failial term, an uncle.

The fact that in the manga she's told by Koenma not to tell Yusuke abt the egg potentially devouring him if he does or thinks something bad wasn't NEARLY utilised for its comical and dramatic worth that it had and this has scrambled my brains ever since. Yusuke thinks he just has to hang onto the egg, Botan however is fully aware of the truth of the test and is probably sweating bullets for him!

She's used to sending clients to their death not to help them improve as a person whose character growth will be acknowledged by the heavens - usually it's enough for the client to feel ready to move on but that isn't the case here! HE'S GONNA DIE FOR REALSIES AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW-- leading to Botan being Weirdly Invested and Pushy about Yusuke doing good deeds, which Yusuke finds weird at first bc she wasn't like this at the beginning? But he's also not smart or observant enough to assume that she knows something he doesn't. Misogyny win! (Headcanon: Yusuke thinks its feminist of him to know a woman can hit him just as badly as a man can. .... Yusuke oh my god.)

Which when I rewatched A Goofy Movie and we get to the principal yelling at Goofy about how Max is destined for the electric chair for staging a performance for the student body and ask Roxanne out, gave me perfect panicked Botan vibes.

"The electric chair...." (an extremely haunted expression on Goofy's face. He then picks up something that reminds him of the Goof family roadtrip and decides this is what will save Maxie from future legally sanctioned execution.)

There's also this one part in the Yukina arc where she, Kuwa, and Yusuke are trekking through a forest and she looks like she's the only one prepared for a trek, and she's the one pointing which way is the right one, gave me the headcanon that she camps and is wildlife-savvy and I got very attached to that.

Next, Mrs Bennet. Oh Mrs Bennet. Poor woman is stuck in a society that values men and realised a little too late that she and her husband should have made sure their girls could have an education and thus secure some work, sadly her husband is useless and she's the only one panicking about it; worse, her panic makes any potential suitors turn away from her daughters. Arguably even worse, it alienates her from her daughters, who also realise how dire things are, but don't appreciate her stress.

Have I mentioned my "Botan gets 10x times funnier if interpreted as a 30-something"?

Its canonically stated in the manga that her birthday and age are unknown, so really she could be billions of years old (Edltrich botan... YES) or she could be a baby ferrygirl/shinigami. She's never heard of Sensui until he shows up in the Chapter Black saga, who disappeared 10 years prior to reappearing. Which implies she entered this service 10 or less years ago.

I personally think it's the funniest if she's in her thirties and she'll still get swept up by the youthful energy of the kids and then repeatedly get mentally hit by the truck of "You're the adult here."

The miscommunication would be great! Yusuke has no idea why Botan is so invested in his good deeds first and now in him being the spirit detective - little does he know, she got invested bc she was literally told "if he doesn't do a good job, he'll get eaten by the monster he's made (that we gave him)", and she's having complicated feelings she doesn't want to address ever abt him being a 14-year-old with a life-debt to the afterlife bc they offered him the chance and never told him there were strings attached.

Meanwhile Botan doesn't know WHY he just can't listen to her or Koenma when that's the easy part!! Obedience is DEFINITELY the easy part!!! She's going above and beyond what was originally in her job description, he can too!! (Hello soul-crushing guilt she's locking away never to look at again. Hello shame that she was a part of this. Hello cowardice at the inability to own up to this!) Hence the yoda.

[theothersarshi]

Sometimes, my mother watches movies and gets ideas. Those ideas are not good.

I don't know how else to explain this.

I guess she's trying to explain some things to herself, or she romanticizes the past, or... I don't know. But whatever's going on, sometimes her fixing shows up into my life to bewilder me. Not in a good way.

It's not bigotry or whatever. It's just... odd.

Have a story.

My mom and my dad divorced when I was so young that I can barely remember them living together at all. I didn't care much. I mean, I must have, on some level, but on another level I cared way more about my mom being a mess. Dad, however... He's great in his way, but as a kid I quickly saw the advantage of rarely having him around. He's an absolute slave driver when it comes to homework, as my younger siblings can testify, and I have always been a selfish little shit. Seeing him more rarely meant he pestered me less and we got to do the cool stuff more.

Anyway.

My mother dated a bit, then found a guy and asked me if I was ok with him moving in with us. I said yeah, because, well, whatever made her happy and floated her boat (this is a very philosophical attitude for a <10 year-old, I'm aware).

That guy and I didn't really... interact. I can only remember us having a longer talk once, and it was during a half-hour trip when I was already in my 20s. I am aware now that this isn't precisely normal, but as a kid (and later a teen), he was just... there. I didn't think about it much. He was the roommate I was uninterested in, and who was uninterested in me. My biggest negative interaction with him was that he insisted a certain knife wasn't appropriate to cut bread with, even though it was; it was a 2-minute conversation and it stands out in my memory because we interacted at all, so that was unusual. (I can't name my biggest positive interaction. I dunno, he gave me money on my birthday? That was nice. Although I remember the fact, without having actual memories of the gift giving.)

Like. This is all. Mild annoyances. Roommates who don't have anything in common. I told my mom this repeatedly, because she would keep making excuses about why he wouldn't come over and visit me, and I was like, no excuses necessary because he's just the awkward roommate who would be sitting there quietly while we'd be talking about work, you know?

So mom decided recently that I need to be Reassured and she's been telling me that this he's proud of me.

"...what," I said. I would have felt less confused if she'd told me one of her colleagues at work was proud of me.

"He's always got this shine in his eyes when people ask him how you've been doing."

"O...k... Good for him, I suppose, if it brings him joy...?"

Like, again. We never interacted. This wasn't him trying to connect with me after who knows how many years or whatever. This is a man whose phone number I have in case mom forgets her phone home and has him call me, or I call him to get her whereabouts. He doesn't call on my birthday or Christmas, lol, which is something I've only realized now that I wrote that thing about the phone number.

And mom's "fixing" is getting to such an absurd degree. I've tried telling her I don't know him, I don't care, and it's fine, but she's insisting.

"He told me that he couldn't really get close to you as a kid because he's also divorced, and every time he looked at you, he remembered he had his own daughter whom he couldn't be near, so it tore him apart..."

Ok... As a kid I didn't care, but as an adult I have to say: what the fuck, that is the shittiest excuse I've ever heard to treat a kid as non-existent. We're all lucky that I just have no fucks to give if people leave me alone as I enjoy being, but he's a shitty person, you see that, right?

How. How is this making anything better? I don't have any beef with the guy. I don't have any good feelings for the guy. I just don't care. Why should this change? Why solve what doesn't need solving? Why stir shit when it doesn't need stirring?

As I've said. Bewildering fixing.

[gigiswitchynuk]

Looking down at the blank pages of a book, unsure if I am ready for this or is it I'm not ready to accept the words my pen will write. Will they be emotionally damaging? F*** this shit! I'm no longer a poet and I'm fed up with the life I was dealt. Therapy insists I Shadow Work and I don't see how writing my thoughts in a journal will repair 50 yrs of mental and emotional trauma I suffered because of my f*** mother! My father was too scared to step in because of the repercussions my mother would inflict upon him and so he just sat there. When I became an adult and out on my own my mother's abuse continued and my father was still not standing up for me because he had to live with her. He once told my grandmother it was not always my fault but more so my mother's and he hated to see me have to go through this. Are you fucking kidding me?

Now, I am mentally unstable and on so much medication. I'm just life my great aunt, someone my mother wanted to be and it never happened. She's on the lowest dose of what she calls her, "happy pill" and repeatedly tells everyone how sad it is she has to take a pill in order to be happy. Bullshit! When I was hit later in life with mental issues I was a very sociable and happy person. People loved me in my small town and came into my store on a regular basis because they received a smile and kindness. Someone who was real and personable. I learned about them and their family. Learned people by name. I enjoyed that time of my life and enjoyed going to work each day.

Now, I suffer with agoraphobia and hardly ever leave my home. I avoid people as much as possible and have no idea my financial situation or what bills we owe. I have no idea the name of our mortgage co or how much it is. I cannot tell you the last time I have been to the mall or shopping anywhere for that matter. I order everything online and have groceries delivered. Amazon ships here every other day and it is stuff I should be able to go to our local Walmart for. But I can't! I have lived with fear my entire life! I fear everything! I have PTSD, depression with manic psychotic episodes, anxiety daily, panic attacks quite frequently, paranoid schizophrenia, and insomnia. As I type this now I have been up almost 24 hrs.

My mother thinks I am making this all up. But no. That is something she would do and does. She is psycho herself but I wouldn't call it mentally. She's a complete narcissist. I hate her. It has been 4 yrs since I have talked to her or my father. I had a friend tell me once she could not understand how my father did not stand up to my mother nor how he wouldn't keep a relationship with his own daughter because he was afraid of his wife. She bluntly said he needed to grow some balls and be a man.

I've done nothing wrong! I truly have not. All my life I have tried to please my mother and make her proud. Anything I ever achieved it was never good enough nor did she ever tell me she was proud of me. I remember working hard in band one year and I told her I felt like I would receive the, "Most Improved Band Student," award. It was an award given at the end of year and she told me not to get my hopes up because I was only in the 9th grade and someone who has been in band longer would get. Awards day came, she was not present. I won that award and 3 more. She never told me she was proud of me.

Why would I want to Shadow Work? I care nothing about digging up my past just to remember how painful and cruel it was. Fuck that!

[toxic-potions-productions]

Astarte's insane upbringing & past (A SHIT TON of trigger warnings!)

"For my entire life on this earth, I have always been..........a strange child. It's been over 400 years since the Azuchi-momoyama era. As a human, I had dark brown hair. & eyes as black as charcoal. Even as a child, I was very vicious & dare I say.....unstable."

"When I was four years old, I had a very morbid way of playing. I had no friends, but that didn't bother me. I had the animals of nature to play with. But, I don't think they liked playing with me as much as I liked playing with them. I would take anything I could find, whether it was sticks, rocks, hay sickles, anything I could get my little hands on, & repeatedly stab any small creature I came across. Frogs, birds, squirrels, anything. From rats to chipmunks. I had too much fun hearing their winches & cries of pain. I was nicknamed "The devil's daughter" because of these actions of mine, & I scared off alot of possible friends. But, all I cared about was blood, death, & especially demons."

"My father was a very noble samurai, who also never really smiled in family photos for some odd reason. & my mother worked full time as a housemaid for some of the more higher up families at the time. She's the reason why my family & I were doing so well with money, & so I was surrounded by luxuries my whole childhood. I don't remember their faces, but I remember their voices as clear as day. My mother was a kind & graceful woman, while my father was very strict, but also very tender. Even though he was only really like that with my mother. Due to my concerning behaviors at such a young age, I'm certain he didn't like me very much. Such a stupid man, he was."

"I eventually came to the realization that my father did in fact not like me. Before I knew it, a gigantic argument broke out & my father blamed my mother for how I was born. Even going so far as to claim she slept around with one of the men of the families she worked for, even though I was without a doubt his child. My mother was so frightened, but mostly for me, as I kept hearing her call out to me."

"Kotohina! Run away, honey! Please! Run & hide before daddy does something! Don't worry about me, just please run!"

"Cried out my poor mother. But, I didn't listen. I just sat on the floor watching the whole thing. But, I felt no fear. No resentment, no sadness, nothing. I just watched on with a neutral expression. But, I was oddly fascinated by what I was seeing. When you're a young child, you don't understand why your parents fight over such feeble things. I, myself, didn't understand either. But, I was so amazed at the same time."

"Even when my father murdered my mother in a fit of blind rage with his own katana."

"After he realized what he had done, he broke down into a state of hysteria. In a panic, he tossed his katana off to the side & tried to help her. Even though the damage was done. I have never seen my father like that before. But, little did he know, that he threw his katana over to me. I felt pity for this idiotic man of my blood. He was all muscle, but never brains. So, my insane little mind had an idea of how he can make up for his actions & apologize to her. I knew he loved her more than me, so after looking at his katana for a while, I went up behind him & told him something in my innocent little voice as he sobbed & muttered constant apologies to my lifeless mother."

"It's okay, daddy. I know how to make it all better. I'll help you join mommy so you can apologize to her. Tell her I said hi. & even if you don't love me as much as mommy........I hope this makes up for it. I love you, daddy."

"Stabbed in the heart from behind."

"The corpses of my poor, helpless mother & my poor, idiotic father stayed there since. Even when I became a teenager & even a young adult, they stayed there rotting away in my childhood home. I kept them there & talked to them even as they stood there frozen in time, only with the flies & maggots crawling in & out of them. I occasionally think back to that fateful day, & I still wonder if anything was left behind after that. Even though I'm not so sure if there's anything at all."

"When I was 15, all the way until I was in my 20s, I carried on with my life as if nothing ever happened. I was the strange girl of my village that everyone stayed clear of. I always wore red kimonos & black obi belts, so no one can see the blood that was on me from any murders I committed. You can't see it when it's on top of black & even more red, after all. No one also ever saw my entire face as I always wore fox masks, or just any mask in general. I had people afraid of me more than I had people who admired me. I was beautiful as I was terrifying. I loved seeing people locking their eyes on me & feeling their heads turn as I walked past them. However, that didn't stop the suspicions of where my parents disappeared to."

"I put on a convincing act whenever anyone asked of them. I was upset, put on the waterworks, pretended to be hurt from their disappearance, all of it. & those people bought every single one. However, some were not as convinced. As I went on with my life, I heard people complaining about a very foul smell coming from my childhood home. & when they finally put the pieces together, they realized my parents didn't disappeared. They were murdered. & the entire village hunted me down like a wild dog. They thought they were smart."

"But, I was smarter than all of them."

"I killed nearly all of the villagers, & the ones I haven't killed fled & have never been seen again. I killed everyone on sight with only some sickles I stole from one of the farmers. As I was on my murdering spree, I thought ahead & made a little trap. A tripwire that, when triggered, would start a fire that would spread throughout the entire village. By the time I was done & satisfied with my murders, the entire area was ablaze. Even my childhood home with my parents' corpses still inside. All for the sake of covering my tracks. I'd give anything to go back in time & relive that night. It was marvelous. Absolutely marvelous!"

"Those who fled the scene could hear my deranged laughing as they ran. That was all the proof they needed that I would be out for them next if they stayed. Easily the best night of my entire life. But, it could never compare to my most famous & proudest murder I have ever committed."

"I had also joined the demon slayer corps at some point, but I did nothing. Instead, I joined just so I could get closer to demons. While I was in that stupid corps, I did a myriad of crimes. I'm honestly surprised the current corps leader of that time didn't kick me out. Well, no matter."

"As I hopped from village to village, I did an abundance of homicides. But, this one is easily my most famous one that people still talk about to this day. A man from one of the villages spotted me & tried to assault me, so of course I used him for one of my murders. I pretended to be clueless & let him lure me into his home, but I wasn't unarmed. I was genuinely impressed with how his abode looked, though, so much so that I almost felt bad for what I was about to do. When he put his hand on me, that's when I struck. I slit his throat, cut off the hand he grabbed me with, & I let him die a painful death, watching every second his life slipped away from him. That was when I decided to be a little creative. I sewed buttons into his eyes & even sewed up his mouth, too. I stayed there for a while & played with him like a personal meat-puppet. It was talked about for centuries, even demons heard about it, too. It's so widely known & so widely talked about that I still hear people talking about it sometimes. Perhaps even Lord Muzan himself heard about it, since no less than a month later, I crossed paths with him."

"He looked a bit different back then when I first met him compared to now. His hair was longer & more wavy, & he only wore a black robe. But, his pale skin & piercing red eyes that burned me to my very core stayed the same. He looked so beautiful. I have never been so starstruck in all my life. I was face to face with Muzan Kibutsuji himself. He heard about my recent murder & was extremely fascinated by my abilities. I told him all about it & the plethora of murders I committed before it, & I think I might've freaked him out a little bit. But, he was still extremely amazed. & then he gave me the offer I thought he never would've given me."

"You've intrigued me with your crimes. You're very interesting, you know that? Even compared to other humans. Perhaps...you'd like to be a powerful demon under me? You could be even stronger beyond your years & you can do whatever your heart desires. You joined that worthless corps to see demons up close, so now I'm giving you the change to become one. What do you say, Kotohina?"

"I took the offer without hesitation."

"My transformation was a painful one. It lasted so many hours, but I was loving every second of it. After that, I dropped the act of liking the demon slayer corps & my appearance changed from his blood. My hair became longer & it even turned black with beautiful purple highlights. & my once black eyes turned to a gorgeous crimson red. I wasn't Kotohina anymore. From that day forward, I was Astarte. & I've never been happier. When an ex-ally of mine came by, I took my new power as a chance to attack & reveal my true colors, which of course, they didn't take so kindly to. So, I used their sword to slice them to shreds, & decapitated them. While their stomach was slit open & their head was severed, I put their head in front of me so they had a little show while I feasted on their innards, as decapitated heads retain consciousness for a few extra seconds. I have to give it to them, they tasted absolutely delicious~!"

"After my new hunger was sated, I already felt much stronger. My kimono was tattered due to my transformation & Muzan took me with him to the infinity castle. & there, my new life officially started. Many years went past me like a blur, & I climbed the ranks very quickly. & then, before I knew it, I became the notorious Uppermoon five you all know today. It's where I met the rest of the uppermoons in the 12 Kizuki. Akaza, Douma, Nakime.........& even my dear Kokushibo.~"

"& that, my friends, is the story of how I became who I am today. All due to a naturally insane young girl who only wanted to see bloodshed, violence, & to take down anything standing in her way. To this day, taking Muzan's offer was the best thing I ever did. I've never been prouder to be where I am now. If my story has taught you anything, it's that you can't always believe those sayings you've learned throughout your life, as they aren't always true. Especially in my case. Since it shows that not all monsters can be created."

"They can also be born, too.~"

[lollytea]

So an extra funny part about Darius & Willow's weird friendship re: him helping her get ready for her date, is Darius used to essentially be Harvey's boss for many years

Like it was already a little strange initially for Gilbert & Harvey that their daughter started dating the ex-Golden Guard/nephew of the deceased emperor, but one of his parents is the ex-Abomination Coven Head too??

First Willow befriended THE Blight family's youngest kid years back, and now she's dating the adoptive kid of a Coven Head, girl just keeps collecting kids related to very important figure heads her dads have worked with/for, I love that for her. Gotta be a 🤏 weird for them tho haha

I know there's a post in my drafts somewhere talking about this exact thing. Like!!! Darius was Harvey's boss!!! That's hilarious!!!!

I like the idea that Harvey and Gil were initially in the dark about Hunter and Darius's relationship. Like when Hunter started dating their daughter, they obviously wanted to invite him and his family over for dinner. (Willow had to repeatedly beg them not to be embarrassing.) So of course, Hunter brought Camila, Luz and Vee along. At this point in time, they're his set-in-stone family, while he and Darius are still kinda in this grey area.

And oh god the Parks LOVE Camila. She's a treasure. She's so sweet. She knows very little about this world so she asks them questions about themselves and their jobs and listens with rapt attention. And the Parks know little about her world so they're just as invested. And even though the food they served made Camila throw up, she took it like a champ. They got along so well.

So they're all proud of themselves for having a WONDERFUL relationship with their daughter's boyfriend's family. They're so good at being functional sociable adults. (I see Harvey as the kinda guy who gets a rush of exhilaration every time he performs adulthood correctly.)

Anyway it's not until a few months later when they're well acquainted with Hunter and their daughter's relationship with him that Willow is like. "Oh, by the way. Hunter's grouchy father figure has invited us over for dinner. He wants to meet you guys."

Which just has Harvey and Gil like "Huh???????" There's ANOTHER parent they have to form a relationship with now??????

And OH GOD. When Harvey finds out who this man is, he goes fucking BONKERS. That's the guy!!!! That's the MAIN guy!!!!! He worked for that guy!!!!!!! And though the Coven system has been abolished, I don't think Harvey can really get that image of Darius the Boss Man out of his head.

After all Harvey is a guy who's very concerned with appearances and making connections for the sake of your career. And Darius still has a huge reputation in the abomination field. So he believes it's in his family's best interest that they remain civil with him.

Like Harvey worked hard while in that Coven and he only met Darius like once or twice. So he flew relatively under the radar. Gave Darius no real reason to dislike him. It was fine.

So the idea of going to his HOUSE and having dinner with him is fucking batshit. Because now he has to make an IMPRESSION.

He panics the whole week and then on the night they're about to leave for the Deamonne residence, he's bustling around making sure He, Gilbert and Willow look presentable and insisting that they all behave themselves. A million times worse than Willow was the first time Hunter came over.

Gilbert, combing his hair: Well, how do I look, Harv? Do you think I'll impress your boyfriend Darius looking so neat and polished? :)

Harvey, straightening his collar: Oh, your sense of humor is alive and well, I see. Fantastic. Make him laugh if you can. I love you.

Willow, polishing her boots after Harvey told her they weren't shiny enough: He's not worth all this effort y'know. He might think he is but he's just some guy at the end of the day.

Harvey, meticulously trimming his beard: Please don't tell me you've ever spoken to him like that.

Willow, who would prefer not to give her dad an aneurysm right now: Of course not 💕

Anyway I absolutely see Darius as somebody who may act like he really doesn't give a shit about anybody who's not in his inner circle but at the same time, he would still be the kind of boss who goes to the effort of learning all the witches in his old Coven by name.

So when he opens up the door and warmly announces "Harvey Park! Wonderful to see you again." Harvey nearly fucking passes out from shock.

Now I KNOW, I know in my heart Willow will not obey that order to behave herself. Once she and Darius are seated at the same table, they are going at it. It is impossible not to.

Which has Harvey sweating BUCKETS at first, especially with how Gilbert barely tries to hold it in before he's in peals of laughter at their daughter's retorts. Even Hunter is snickering.

It takes him a bit to get accustomed to how this dynamic works, just like Hunter, but Harvey does eventually realize that Darius and Willow's rivalry comes from familiarity more than anything. And that's when Harvey realizes that he understands.

Because like!!! Oh!!!! It's a little bit like Harvey and Hunter.

Similarly to how Darius sees his younger self in Willow, Harvey sees his younger self in Hunter. And they're not nearly as witty and graceful as the former two, but two personalities that are so very similar sometimes leads to clashing.

Not even of the antagonistic variety. They're both just nerds who love to info dump and they've both read the same books so they're often very competitive over who can get the words out the fastest and be the one to share the Fun Fact. Like:

Harvey: And the thing about mindscapes is--

Hunter: They reflect the individual!

Harvey: I knew that, yes. I was just gonna tell them that.

Hunter: You were talking too slow so I helped :)

Harvey: Thanks, Hunter.

Hunter: No problem :)

Initially, while the two were still getting used to each other, Hunter used to be so embarrassed by his tendency to speak over Harvey. He just got nervous and blurted shit out to prove he was smart and was terrified Willow's dad wasn't gonna like him. But on the flipside, Harvey, who was initially wary of Hunter, is now like "wow he's just like me fr" And starts to encourage this playful sort of "rivalry" which Hunter is aware is just a joke. And though they DO get on each others nerves, they have an understanding.

That's it!!! That's exactly what Willow and Darius got going on!!!!!

Anyway it's nice that they get to do this and Harvey actually gets an opportunity to talk to Darius in a more casual setting so he can see him in another light that's not the Big Boss Man. Cuz Harvey is crazy smart when it comes to abomination magic, as is Darius. So they actually gel really well. But the boss-employee barrier always prevented them from actually being friends.

Also Gilbert manages to make Darius laugh several times, a feat many cannot do, so Harvey kissed him senseless after they got home. 💕

[lavishedinjimin]

all the good girls go to hell

— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.

↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough

↳ rating: m/18+

↳ word count: 10k

↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe

a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3

“You’re not good enough.” 

“You look so pathetic, really.”

“Can you at least try to look hot?” 

“This is why no one likes you.” 

These words will forever haunt you until the day you die. 

It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have. 

Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes. 

Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you. 

“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say. 

She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that. 

Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.” 

She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”

“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?” 

Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not. 

Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.” 

“I’ve always been one,” you scorn. 

“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts. 

This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice. 

Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.

It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings. 

You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you. 

This is ridiculous. 

“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?” 

“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird. 

“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —” 

“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room. 

You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything. 

“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?” 

“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.” 

“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!” 

Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not. 

“Okay.” You say simply. 

How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky. 

Step one: Sneak out the house. 

Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there. 

“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from. 

Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n. 

You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking. 

Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.

Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!

~

“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting. 

Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!” 

He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine. 

This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message. 

And you clearly know what he's trying to say. 

There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine. 

Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.” 

Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you. 

There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that. 

But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too. 

~ 

The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.

“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub! 

Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you. 

Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!” 

Oh no. 

Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner. 

“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed. 

“Are you going out with your friends?”

“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before. 

“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?” 

She doesn't have to know. 

“Yup.” 

And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come. 

But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself. 

You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course. 

Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking. 

“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.

You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.

The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code. 

You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room. 

“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her. 

“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”

“It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.

After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted. 

Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.

Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened. 

You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving. 

But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing. 

“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword. 

“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.

“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”

“What?” 

Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”

He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?” 

Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 

The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt. 

“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks. 

Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. 

“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak. 

“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–” 

“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him. 

“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.” 

“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”

“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.” 

“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”

Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun. 

“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”

Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.” 

“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side. 

“Y/n! Your mom told you that–” 

“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are. 

“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides. 

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.” 

May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.” 

“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.” 

“Y/n!” 

“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!” 

“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”

“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window. 

Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?” 

“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh. 

“We'll see!” Emilia giggles. 

The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account . 

“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are. 

“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth. 

“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.” 

You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you. 

“Well, uh–” 

“What?” Emilia snaps.

“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie. 

“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried. 

Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool. 

“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.” 

You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!” 

Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.” 

It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume. 

Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun. 

It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess. 

Wasted. You were wasted like hell. 

Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it. 

“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have. 

“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.” 

“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” 

Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.” 

Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question. 

The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too. 

“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.” 

“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.  

“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him. 

You nod your head, not trusting your voice. 

“I own this place, baby.” 

You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still. 

’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence. 

You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you. 

“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.” 

“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.” 

“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway. 

“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.” 

Let’s have a little fun. 

Yeah. I should. 

This is fun, right? 

Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders. 

Something feels off. 

“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him. 

“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident. 

This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia. 

Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body. 

“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you. 

Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all. 

His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back. 

“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side. 

“Y/n?” 

Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking. 

“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!” 

“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home. 

You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm. 

“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…” 

“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!” 

Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia. 

“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.” 

Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go. 

Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh. 

What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow. 

Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this. 

It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people. 

You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy. 

Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first. 

“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes. 

“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare. 

Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible. 

Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”

Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.” 

His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?” 

This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.” 

Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.” 

“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.

The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.” 

Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together. 

“You know I’m a devil, right?” 

The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.” 

“Do you know what devils do to… humans?” 

Armaros nods fully. 

“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around. 

“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear. 

“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.

“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?” 

The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize. 

“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”

Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth. 

Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun. 

~

Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt. 

That’s what he plans to do with you. 

If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete. 

Easy! 

You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!” 

Oh no, you thought. 

Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see. 

He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes. 

“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.” 

“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.” 

“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her. 

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room. 

Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves. 

Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter. 

You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain. 

“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile. 

His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before. 

“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?” 

“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure. 

You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway. 

“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?” 

What kind of a question is that? 

You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”

Feisty, Jungkook thought. 

“I'm the devil.”

There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes. 

Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing. 

“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister. 

“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling. 

“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him. 

You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”

You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?” 

Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again. 

Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you. 

Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”

Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow. 

“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you. 

Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?” 

“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!” 

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?” 

And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper. 

You almost fainted then and there. 

“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!” 

“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.” 

You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”  

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!” 

Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”

Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way. 

“Stand up.”

You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure. 

“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”

He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.” 

You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 

He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.” 

“W-What?” 

Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area. 

“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.” 

Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.  

“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.” 

“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock.. 

“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”

You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time. 

Was he doing something to you?!

A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”

“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words. 

“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?” 

Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him. 

You lust for him. 

“Yes.”

Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?” 

Your heartbeat quickens. 

“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.  

Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.” 

He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self. 

“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.” 

His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs. 

You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there. 

“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.” 

His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms. 

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”

He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises. 

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder. 

His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up. 

“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls. 

“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?” 

He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…” 

Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go. 

“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?” 

He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly. 

“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”

“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.” 

“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously. 

You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.” 

Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly. 

“Devil?” 

Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation. 

He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.” 

“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much. 

“Daddy.” He purrs. 

Your body instantly feel a series of shivers. 

“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy. 

“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!” 

Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use. 

You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob. 

“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!” 

“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?” 

Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”

Until it all stops. 

All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out. 

“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess. 

Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.” 

But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.

Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes. 

Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.

“Take my cock out.”

Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly. 

You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs. 

“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes. 

Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.

His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh. 

“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding. 

“But—” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock. 

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes. 

His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 

Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore. 

His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.” 

Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva. 

He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.” 

He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him. 

You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure. 

Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks. 

Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach. 

“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles. 

He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?” 

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.” 

“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?” 

You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…” 

Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.” 

With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip. 

“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank. 

“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle. 

Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun. 

You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet. 

“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.

“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers. 

“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is. 

But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break. 

So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy. 

Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises. 

“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!” 

Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you. 

“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.” 

Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy. 

“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind. 

He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars. 

Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you. 

Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”

Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure. 

“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him. 

He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high. 

He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes. 

He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”

Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look. 

He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim. 

“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.” 

When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.

The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks. 

“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow. 

Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean. 

~

He can't leave now. Not after all of this. 

There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting. 

It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now. 

“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes. 

Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods. 

He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking. 

“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”

Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.

“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”

Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”

Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice. 

You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.

“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.

He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.” 

Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty. 

He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you. 

He needs you down with him. 

Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk. 

“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?” 

You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly. 

He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.” 

“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.” 

Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness. 

~

Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings. 

Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.

You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.

“Y/n.”

A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.

He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.

Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.

His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.

“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”

“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”

He shakes his head no with a sly grin.

You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.

“Then I love it here.”  

Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close. 

The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels. 

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Two)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: swearing

Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch2 of the new story, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t think you have ever been this bitter in your life—and you have a few things you can be bitter about. You could honestly make a list. But this? This is the ultimate bitterness and you hate it. It is driving you absolutely nuts! You’re alone with a man on an island…that’s lonely enough, right? Well, said man doesn’t even want to talk to you…that makes it ten—no, a million times more lonely. And you have every right to be bitter about that. So, yes maybe you are being a little petty when guys do interact.

It’s not like you are trying to purposely be petty, no, it’s not like that. You just can’t help your smart ass mouth or how childish you can become. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind completely though, he just has his own smart ass comments or he becomes childish himself. It’s a horrible mix! Neither of you win! And you always want to have the last word but with Taehyung as your opponent it’s almost impossible.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Okay, maybe a little less than fine. This company has got it all wrong! All. Fucking. Wrong. You two are barely getting along! It’s just eye roll after eye roll, smart ass comment after smart ass comment. That’s it. That’s the relationship. Taehyung barely spares you a glance throughout the day. You do your own thing and he does his. You won’t lie though…you are curious what he gets up to…the last week he has left the house and doesn’t come back until sunset…and he comes back sweaty and exhausted.

You want to ask what he does, you do, you really do. But something tells you he wouldn’t even tell you even if you begged. And you’re not about to beg for this asshole.

So, you guys keep to yourselves save the occasional breakfast/lunch/dinner run in. While he does god knows what, you have also been trying to keep yourself busy. You have recently learned to cook a couple meals, nothing too fancy but you feel proud. You play a lot of games, read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies.

But to put it simple—You’re bored. Fucking bored. You miss human interaction. You hate to say it but your food run ins are mostly on purpose at this point…you just want someone to chit chat with for a few moments even if its unpleasant conversation—because hey! At least it’s conversation.

You and Taehyung eat in silence after your little convo, he and you share strange eye contact…you call it strange because it’s more like he glares at you and you glare at him. Your eyes never leave one another. You feel like he’s trying to cast like, black magic on you, maybe something where if he glares enough you will burst into flames. You assume this because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“Stop looking at me.” Taehyung finishes his last bite, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.

“You stop looking at me.” You fire back and he sighs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Why would I look at you?”

“Why would I look at you?” you mock, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and Taehyung squints at you.

“Oh yeah, real mature y/n.” His lips curl inward and he relaxes his arms at his sides as he stands from the table.

“I’m going to my room now.”

“You literally don’t have to announce everything you do.” You raise the bowl to your lips and drink back the leftover milk. You don’t want to look at Taehyung’s expression, you know you’re being ruder than usual. You’re just bitter. Yeah, pretty god damn bitter. You hear Taehyung release a long breath, and you’re starting to think he’s right, maybe you are a brat.

“Goodnight y/n.” he says much softer than you were expecting.

Yeah, maybe you are a brat.

~~~~~~

You’re snuggled up on the living room sofa, the TV plays some cartoon movie you found on the shelf (obviously one of his picks). The movie is on a low volume as you have a book in your hands. You just started it this morning and you have not put it down, it’s called The Roommate, a funny and sexy novel. Too bad your own roommate is nowhere near funny nor sexy. Okay, maybe he’s a little sexy. But his attitude is the opposite of sexy so therefore he isn’t sexy. Yeah, totally. Whatever you have to say to yourself, right? It’s evening now and you’re almost done with the book, you have hardly taken a break from reading. This reminds you of your last memories before the island…the night before you were…kidnapped. Yeah, kidnapped. That’s how you would describe it.

The night before you were like this…snuggled on your sofa in your parent’s house…

“All I’m saying is it doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard to—”

“Honey, relax.” Your dad cuts in. Your mom is going on and on again about how you still haven’t found another job.

“Relax? Our daughter suddenly left her job and moved back to town!” Your mother throws her hands up, “And she won’t even tell us why!”

You sit here, your knees to your chest as you read your book. You try your best to ignore your mother…you two have rarely ever seen eye to eye. If you told her why you “quit” your previous job and why you had to move back home she would probably find a way to blame you.

“She will tell us when she’s ready.” You hear your dad whisper to your mother. “Don’t push her, you know that makes it worse…”

You can’t help but nibble on your lips, starting to feel the anxiety build. You try to focus on the words on the pages in front of you but they’re beginning to become blurred.

“Oh what is she 5 years old? You treat her like a child! She’s an adult she can handle a little confrontation.”

Your eyes lose focus on the words in front of you, instead all you see is blurred vision thanks to the tears that try to visit.

“I’ll be going to sleep now.” You announce, closing your book and setting it on the end table next to the sofa. “Goodnight.” You grab your phone and stand from your place on the couch. Thankfully, your dad offers a soft ‘goodnight sweetie’ and your mom just nods her head.

You make your way down the hall to your bedroom, opening and closing the door quickly. You lean back on the bedroom door and sigh out, blinking away any tears that tried to appear. You won’t cry. Not again. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, startling you. You unlock your phone to see who messaged you when you see it lit up with a notification from him. You feel your whole world collapsing. Why the fuck is he messaging you?

You stare at your books pages, in deep thought as you recall your last night before the island. You don’t want to remember honestly. You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts when the side door opens in the kitchen. It’s Taehyung. He’s sweaty and clearly exhausted again…what the hell does he do outside for so many hours?

“Hi.” You say, looking up at him from your book. Wait. Why did you greet him?

“Hi…?” Taehyung is just as surprised as you are, with his wide eyes and open mouth. He scrunches his brows together as he eyes you. He gives you a small wave, confusion written all over his face as he begins walking through the entry way and heading upstairs.

You sit here embarrassed as hell. Why did you say hi? And why was your voice so high pitched? You turn red, redder than you probably can imagine. You drop your face in your book and groan, wishing you didn’t say something as simple as ‘hi’.

You have to remind yourself you two aren’t talking. That your roommate here at Casa de la Trapped, isn’t looking to become buddy buddy with you. Which sucks because you are human, you know, a social creature. What’s the harm in becoming friends? Sure you two banter, but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You just don’t get any bad vibes from him, in fact sometimes it seems like he’s forcing himself to be closed off.

You try to go back to your book when you hear a faint yelp from upstairs. Did Taehyung just kind of…scream? You sit here with your book, your ears in the direction of the stairs trying to listen for any indication that something is wrong. But it’s silent. You decide to go back to your book when you hear the noise of Taehyung running down the stairs. He is out of breath by the time he reaches you, standing next to the sofa.

You quite literally choke on your spit when you see him. This boy just don’t give a damn, huh? He’s standing here, trying his best to breathe evenly with nothing but a dark red towel hanging lowly around his hips. You gulp at the sight of him. You knew he probably had a nice body but you were not expecting this. His strong build surprises you, his soft, caramel skin glows even in this lighting and his muscles flex with every movement.

“Uh,” you begin, setting your book down again, “Can I help you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Taehyung rushes to say, he sounds much different than usual. His voice is usually calm and deep but right now it’s panicked like a child.

“With what?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, I need you to take care of it.”

“You want me to kill a spider for you?”

“Kill?” Taehyung brings a hand to his chest, a shocked expression on his face. “All life is precious, y/n.” he pouts. “Just get it and take it outside.”

You tilt your head and try not to laugh as you look at him…he looks bothered, that’s for sure. But god, what a baby. Can’t even take care of a small bug by himself.

“Fine. Show me where it’s at.” You rise from the couch, pointing at the direction of the stairs.

“Yes, yes. I’ll lead the way!” Taehyung walks quickly. He makes his way upstairs with you following right behind him. He leads you into the bathroom when he brings back the shower curtain to show you the spider.

“Well?” you ask expectantly. “Where is it?”

Taehyung turns to face you, his face as white as a ghost.

“It was just here, I swear.”

You roll your eyes as you fight back a grin.

“Sure, Taehyung. Are you sure you weren’t just trying to show off your body?” you shamelessly drag your eyes down his body and he goes red.

“W-Why—why would I do that?” he murmurs out, “Plus, I am sure you’ve already imagined what I look like without clothes.” He recovers quickly, a smirk making its way on his face.

“Not likely.” You say nonchalantly. “Well, if there’s no bug—”

“Wait! You don’t expect me to use this shower still, do you?” He looks panicked again, like a small child.

“Uh, yes?”

“The spider could be lurking anywhere! Let me use your shower.” He suggests, loving his own idea. You on the other hand, do not love his idea.

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Yeah, nah.”

“y/n…” He whines, “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You raise a brow, a small smirk creeping on your face. “Okay, have breakfast with me tomorrow. And you actually have to talk to me.”

“y/n…” he warns. “You know we shouldn’t do that.”

“And I want 5 facts about you.” You stand your ground, your hands on your hips as you speak. “And I’ll give you 3 about me.”

“How is that even fair?”

“I’m the rule maker here, Taehyung.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get used to it.”

Taehyung walks closer to you, his breaths reaching your skin.

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, “I definitely make the rules.” There’s a moment of strange tension as he stares down at you…then he’s speaking again. “If you only give 3 then I only give 3. That’s the deal.”

You stare up into his dark eyes and you struggle to swallow your own spit, he might only have a few inches over you but maybe they are a little intimidating.

“F-Fine. Use my shower.” You step out of his way and gesture towards your room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow.” You wink.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but this time it almost seemed playful and not overly dramatic. You don’t want to get your hopes up but when he’s not being closed off and frankly, rude, he’s really not that bad.

“Don’t get used to these types of deals.” Taehyung throws over his shoulder as he walks to your room. “Basically, don’t get used to me.” He says a little quieter, but you still hear him and you frown.

“Like, I would want to!” you yell out.

Taehyung does not want to leave this shower, ever. He’s almost kind of bitter that he let you have this room! You get the awesome rain shower and he’s stuck with some plain, basic shower head in the guest bathroom. He eyes all the different bottles that sit on the shelves inside the shower, these must be all the bottles you use in your real life, he thinks. He grabs the shampoo and opens it to sniff it. He’s never gotten close enough to you that he can smell your hair but man, this is what you smell like? Delicious. He squirts a generous amount of the shampoo in his palm with an evil glint in his eye and massages it into his scalp. Whoops, did he just use your shampoo? Oh well. He rinses his hair out and uses your conditioner as well, but he doesn’t stop there. He uses your body wash too! It smells divine and its making his skin so soft.

Taehyung just knows that him using your shit would bother you, he just gets that vibe. And he’s not sure why but riling you up is quite fun. Taehyung turns the water off and grabs his towel and starts drying off…he steps out on to the shower mat and eyes the room as he dries himself. He sees you organized all your lotions and whatever other products onto the sinks counter top, he sees how empty “his side” of the sink is. It previously held all his belongings that he had moved into his bathroom—the guest bathroom.

“Are you almost done in there?” He hears you knocking on the door. “I want to take a shower before bed!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He whispers out, “Hold on!”

Taehyung wraps the towel around his hips again and goes towards the bathroom door, he stops to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door.

“I’m all done, cry baby.” He rolls his eyes and you secretly hope they get stuck like that for how much he does it.

“Me, the cry baby? You wouldn’t even use your own show—”

“—anyway, bathroom is all yours.” He breezes past you, but stops before exiting the bedroom. “Um…” he turns around, “See you in the morning.” And then he’s walking out.

~~~~~~

You made eggs, bacon, pancakes, and have fresh fruit in a bowl all set up on the dining room table. For some reason you are too nervous to call out for Taehyung and let him know that breakfast is ready…you know, 30 minutes ago. You just patiently wait, sitting here tapping your fingers against the wooden table.

Another 20 minutes pass by when you hear faint footsteps from upstairs…he must now just be getting up, you think. You rush to reheat up some of the food before he makes his way downstairs. You set the bacon, eggs and pancakes back down on the table and make yourself busy like you haven’t just been waiting for almost an hour.

Taehyung finally walks through the kitchen, his face evident with sleep and his hair sticking out in all directions. He blinks at you lazily before his eyes widen in panic.

“B-Breakfast. I forgot—”

“It’s okay, I just finished.” You cut him off with a strained smile. “I see you like to sleep in.”

“Most days, yeah. Because I go to bed so late.” He admits sheepishly. Then he smirks. “Can that be fact number 1?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it? How gracious of you.” Taehyung takes a seat at the dining room table and he starts with grabbing two pancakes from the pile and setting them down on his plate.

“You cooked all of this?” He asks, surprised.

“No, the other people who live here did it.” You deadpan.

“Always a smart ass.” He says while pouring syrup all over his pancakes, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“Right…” you make your way to the table and take a seat in front of him. You start with some pancakes as well, waiting for him to finish with the syrup so you can pour your own generous amount. He notices you waiting, his eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth twitches into a sort of half smile. He slides the syrup across the table and your hand goes out to grab it, your fingers touching his.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You both get out at the same time. You stare at one another for another few seconds before Taehyung rolls his eyes,

“Big deal, our fingers touched. No need to get weird.” He chuckles, and you feel your heart feel all fucking weird.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “What’s fact number 2?”

Taehyung takes a bite of his pancakes and moans into the syrupy mess, his eyes finding yours again.

“Oh? You’re greedy for information.”

“I’m a little greedy.” You admit, “So?”

“Fact number 2…I’m almost 5’11.”

“So you’re 5’10. Just say you’re 5’10.”

“But I’m not just 5’10. Because I am almost 5’11.” He groans, “Can’t you just humor me here?”

“Okay Mister 5’11.” You laugh, “My fact number 2 is that I have one older sister.”

Taehyung nods his head, remembering the picture of you and some other girl that you looks a lot like you.

“I see.” He swallows his food, “So you’re the baby of your family?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks at you, “You have that baby of the family vibe.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you give him a curious look and he looks at you like you can’t be serious.

“Because you’re…you know,” he gestures towards you with a knowing look and you scoff.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Brat.” He states simply. “Because you’re a brat.”

“Whatever.” You grab for some eggs and bacon, and Taehyung does the same.

“So, what’s fact number 3?” you ask, piling some eggs onto your plate.

“Already want the last fact? We are barely just eating.” Taehyung points out. He shovels some eggs onto his own plate once you are done, and sticks a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Greedy, remember?” you remind him with a smirk. “So?”

“I’m sure you already gathered this but…I’m an aspiring musician.”

“I figured you were…that, or an artist.”

“Art is just a really fun hobby for me.” He admits. He loves to paint but singing and making music is where his true passion lies.

“What’s your last fact?” he stuffs his face with another piece of bacon, you watch him as he eats the crispy meat.

“Umm…” you look up at the ceiling as you think, “I used to think I looked bad in sun glasses but then I got over that…so now I buy any cool, funky sunglasses I can find.”

“That’s a really random fact.” Taehyung chuckles, “I like cool, funky sunglasses too.”

“Wow, are you saying we actually have something in common?” you tease, bringing a forkful of eggs to your mouth.

“Don’t get used to it.” He says dryly. “Since we said all of our facts, I guess I can go now.”

“You’re not going to finish your food? Taehyung…” you place your hands on the table. “They’re not going to assume just because we are talking that we are falling in love for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t want to give them any ideas.” Taehyung says a bit harshly. Your face falls into a frown and you stand from the table.

“You can finish your food. I’ll leave.”

Taehyung blinks up at you and opens his mouth to say something but he remains quiet. You shake your head at him and walk off into the living room. If he wants to continue this “Little to no interaction” thing then so be it!

Taehyung sits here with his appetite lost. He holds his fork in his hand out in front of him and attempts to cut into his pancakes when he just gives up. He drops the fork onto the table and sighs out.

“y/n…” he calls out but you ignore him. “y/n!”

“Don’t talk to me.” You say with as much attitude you can muster and Taehyung silently mocks your words. He grabs his fork and aggressively cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.

“Fine by me!” He yells out with his mouth full.

“You’re so annoying!” You groan and Taehyung silently mocks your words again but you can’t see him.

“And you’re a brat!” He says stuffing his mouth with another slice of pancake.

Great. For a moment there you thought you two could almost get along but he is set on this bullshit of not talking. You walk to the shelves in the living room and choose a new book, another romance novel. You take a seat on the couch, and curl up into a blanket. Taehyung can do whatever he wants! You’re going to enjoy your book and forget all about his annoying ass.

~~~~~~

Taehyung is finally dressed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt as he makes his way out of the house. He is going to continue working on his little…project. You are probably wondering what he gets up to everyday, he thinks.

He is working on building a raft. He wants to escape this island but he doesn’t know how to build a fucking raft and this company didn’t necessarily give him the tools to escape. But he’s figuring it out. He is quite literally breaking tree branches and going from there. But it is taking time but apparently he has all the time in the world. 3 months? 6 months? A year or even more? He releases a long breath as he walks the path to where his “raft” is. If anything it’s just nice to get out of the house and breathe the island air. This whole thing kind of just gives him something to do and he knows this may not really work but he’s got to try. He’s a man of action after all.

He finally sees his “raft” chilling against a tree close to the beach and he walks up to it. Already feeling frustrated just looking at the pathetic thing. He has to make it big enough for two people…he isn’t an asshole, he doesn’t plan on escaping by himself, leaving you here.

He goes to his knees and holds it up, he feels his frustrations bubble over and he throws it to the ground. How the hell is he supposed to escape with this shitty thing?

He slams his eyes shut and sinks into the sand. He wants to go home. Things aren’t easy here…he can’t sleep. He is surprised he’s eating as much as he is, and he has mostly bad interactions with you. And he knows that it’s his fault. But he knows this is for the best but he can tell it’s not what you want. To be honest, this is actually really hard for him. He tries to come off as cold and closed off so you won’t take an interest in him but he’s dying! He wants to talk to you too! He is probably one of the most social of his friends! He has a lot of friends and he loves talking and hanging with them.

Taehyung feels his eyes become wet with hot tears and he grits he teeth together in irritation. He wishes he was home with his friends, with his family, with the girl he likes. He misses everyone so bad. He knows the night you two were “kidnapped” was the last day of the year, meaning they started this experiment January 1. He recalls his last few nights before the island…it was his birthday.

“No! I want him to open my present first!” Jimin whines and Taehyung can’t help the wide grin that adorns his face.

They’re all out at a bar, the music is loud and the alcohol is nonstop. Taehyung is surrounded by his closest friends, plus Hana—the girl Taehyung has been crushing on for the last year. She brought along a couple of her friends to this night out of celebration.

“He can open whoever’s he wants first…which is mine, right?” Jungkook hands Taehyung a box and Taehyung chuckles.

“Just for that, your two are going last.” Taehyung says, “How about I open Namjoon’s first since he planned this night?”

Namjoon gives the other two boys a cocky grin as he hands Taehyung a bag.

“Can I go after Namjoon?” Hana’s sweet voice is heard over the blaring music. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, her pink dress doing her a million favors. Not that she needs the favors, she’s always gorgeous.

“Y-Yeah.” Taehyung blushes, “But you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Really? You practically yelled at us when you thought we weren’t getting you anything.” Jimin playfully comments.

“Shut up dude.” Taehyung grits out, “Anyway, let’s see what Joonie got me.”

The night went on, the music got louder, the alcohol kept on coming. Taehyung is so happy. Everything is perfect. He doesn’t think anything can ruin his good mood.

“Want to dance with me?” Hana’s words leave her pretty, pink lips and Taehyung finds himself nodding yes before he can even register what she said. He would literally do anything she wanted.

“Then come.” She waves him over with her small, manicured hand.

Hana and Taehyung end up on the dance floor for quite some time…he’s too drunk to be nervous like he usually is. His large hands grip at her tiny waist as he brings her in closer, she lightly moans when she feels his hard body against her.

“We should talk.” Hana breathes out, “About us.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, panic starting to make its way into his body.

“What about us?”

Hana chuckles lightly, she goes on her tip toes and places a soft, sweet kiss against Taehyung’s lips.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” She takes his hand and leads him outside the bar, out to a little patio. Taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he follows her outside…it’s not the first time they’ve kissed but he still can’t get used to it.

“You like me right?” she asks, pointing to herself. She’s got that sweet smile and Taehyung feels his nerves spiking.

“Yes.” He finally breathes out.

“Good. Because I like you too.” She admits, she closes her eyes for a moment, Taehyung spots the golden eye shadow that is painted over her lids. She opens her eyes again and he spots a sadness in them.

“But…” she begins and Taehyung feels his smile fade.

“But what?”

“No…it’s nothing.” She clears her throat, “You should take me on a date. And soon.” She giggles. Taehyung feels his smile grow and he nods his head.

“I would love to. We can—”

“Hey Tae!” Hobi’s voice cuts him off, “Yoongi says he just got off work and is on his way!!” He cheers happily. Taehyung turns to face Hobi and gives him a thumbs up before he’s spinning back around to Hana.

“Let’s go inside. We can discuss more on our date.” She smiles, taking his hand again.

“Sure.” Taehyung grins, his stomach doing a million flips. “Let’s go!”

Taehyung feels a few tears escape his closed eye lids as he sits in the sand. It’s too early to be in this state, Taehyung thinks. But alas, he can’t help it. He misses his life. This island put his life on complete hold. What if he’s stuck here for a year? Would Hana wait for him? It’s not like he’s expecting her to…but he thinks he would wait for her.

He stands to his feet, wiping his face of any leftover tears and he begins working for the day. He finds new trees with branches that would be easy to cut down and he resumes his little project. Hours and Hours go by and Taehyung is sitting on the beach’s sand and staring out at the water. He’s tired, he’s sweaty and he’s hungry.

Taehyung starts making his way back to the house now that the sun is setting. It’s pretty orange glow sets a relaxing mood and Taehyung feels grateful. He walks up to the side door that leads to the kitchen and watches you from the window. You look calm as usual and he feels himself feeling frustrated all over again…how are you so calm? He was having a meltdown on the beach earlier and here you are cooking dinner with a small smile on your face. He doesn’t understand you. Does this whole situation not bother you? No…he knows it has to bother you but how are you able to be so relaxed about it?

He opens the door and walks inside, startling you. You bring a hand to your heart when you see him but then visibly relax after a moment or two.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles lamely. And then he’s walking up the stairs leaving you to your lonesome.

~~~~~

Month: 1

It’s been a month. A whole month! It seems Taehyung has gotten even more distant with you…no major interactions since you two had breakfast together. He keeps his comments to you brief in passing and he barely makes eye contact. You’re fed up. You’re lonely. You need interaction and you can’t always cater to him! He can suck it up for once and do what you want.

Feeling brave, you give yourself a pep talk in your bathroom mirror. That’s right, you are going to just go for it! You are going to demand that he hang out with you. You fix your hair in the mirror and nod to yourself. Yeah, you got this. You exit your room and stroll down the hall to his bedroom, once you are standing in front of it you lean your head against the door, your ear lying flat against it as you try to listen for him. The room sounds pretty quiet…maybe he’s sleeping? No, no. You’re just trying to find an excuse not to do this, aren’t you? Ugh, pathetic.

You raise your fist up and begin knocking on his door. You’re left with silence…you’re being ignored. So you knock again. And again. And ag—

“What?!” Taehyung swings open the door, revealing that he was indeed maybe sleeping. His hair is doing that funny thing where it sticks out in every direction and his eyes are barely open.

“This better be important.” He huffs out.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. You feel kind of bad you interrupted his nap…but you got to stay strong.

“Please hang out with me.” You blurt out.

“Huh?” Taehyung looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Not happening.” He quickly says.

“Just play a game with me, or maybe we could watch that movie…”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.” He raises his voice just the slightest and you flinch.

“Yeah? You think I want to do things with you? Like you specifically? Hell no! But I just want to do something damn it!” you flail your arms up, and breathe out heavily. “I am so fucking tired of always being by myself, it’s literally driving me insane.” You admit, you look off to the side as tears threaten to wet your eyes. “I am alone every single day. It has been a month, Taehyung? Did you know that? You’ve left me lonely for an entire month! I am going fucking crazy!” you bring your hands to your hips, “I have tried learning to cook all these god damn recipes as a way to distract myself but dude, I don’t even like cooking. I read all day too…I have all these imaginary book friends and that’s where I meet my social needs, isn’t that insane? Oh my god, I am going insane. And you?! How are you okay?!”

Taehyung is left speechless at your rant. He realizes that this loneliness is really getting to you…he admits he isn’t much better. But he kind of likes that you’re beginning to spiral. Is that mean?

“W-What game?” he juts out his bottom lip as his eyes slide to the side.

You stare at him with wide eyes as your chest heaves. You screw your eyes closed, and bring a hand to your head.

“What game?” you open your eyes to look at him, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What game y/n?”

You glare at him, huffing out deep breaths trying to calm yourself.

“Mortal Kombat.” You spit out, “I really want to kick your ass.”

Your fingers work the buttons on the controller as you test out every god damn combo you can…and damn it is working because you are on fire.

“You could have warned me that you actually know how to play…” Taehyung pouts.

“You should have just taken my word for it, you loser.” You continue to kick his ass in the game, you are pretty good at pretending his character is actually him.

“One more game, y/n.” Taehyung begs, “I will beat you!”

“You haven’t won even one match, Taehyung. Just admit you suck.” You chuckle darkly.

You press a few more buttons until you see the word ‘Fatality’ grace your screen, you stand up in excitement yelling out your victory, you laugh like a god damn maniac and he can’t help but chuckle. Taehyung throws his controller to the ground and pouts dramatically.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You turn to face him, calming down.

“Nothing will heal this wound, y/n.” He states, throwing the sofa’s designated blanket over his body.

“How about we watch that movie you like so much?” you offer with a smile but Taehyung goes stiff at your question.

“I think we should just call it for the day…” he looks awkwardly to the side and you slump your shoulders.

“Oh…okay.”

“Listen…it’s not you—”

“Just stop.” You hold your hand up, “You want nothing to do with me, I get it.”

“y/n…” Taehyung looks down at his hands…he does feel bad. It’s not like he didn’t have fun with you just now. He just wishes this was all different.

“I’ll be in my room—”

“Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He cuts in.

“What?” you ask, completely off guard. “What?” you repeat.

“I said,” Taehyung breathes out, “Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He’s not just trying to be nice…he’s also, you know, hungry.

You hate yourself because you light up like the sun almost immediately. You wish you were strong and you could tell him to fuck off but instead you become the god damn sun from how brightly you shine.

“Really?” you ask with the most hopeful eyes.

“Yeah.” Taehyung laughs, “Really.”

“You mean…you want to actually spend time with me?” you ask bluntly.

“I guess you can put it that way if it makes you feel better.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s in that playful way you only ever get to see so often.

“It does make me feel better actually.”

“Well, then.” He stands up and motions his hand towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”

“Are you going to be annoying the whole time?” you ask, “Or will you be serious about learning?”

“God, woman.” He rolls his eyes again. “I hope I annoy the shit out of you.”

“Oh, you already do.” You gesture for him to go to the kitchen first.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Somehow I believe you.” This time it’s your turn for the dramatic eye roll. “Now come on.”

“Oh my god. You aren’t even listening!” you yell out over Taehyung’s nonstop humming and whistling.

“I truly believe cooking is like an art, you know?” he continues to whistle some made up tune, “These instructions are like…a guide but you can kind of do what you…” he makes a fist with his hand and shakes it in front of his face. “… you want.” He finishes. “Yeah, these are more like suggestions.”

“Can we please just follow the directions.” You deadpan. “I want this to taste the way it’s supposed to!”

“You’re no fun.” Taehyung says nonchalantly. “Cooking should be fun.”

“Cooking is so we can eat.”

“These dumplings are going to taste fine, y/n.” He assures you with a grin.

“You say that but…” you look at his pile of failed dumplings. “But…” you show him with your hand the absolute mess he’s made.

“Your point?” He raises a single brow and you scoff. There’s no way he is serious, absolutely no way.

You notice Taehyung is staring at you, his eyes look everywhere but your eyes and you start to feel nervous under his gaze. He has one of those dark, intense gazes that you just can’t shake off your mind.

“What?” you finally ask. “Something on my face?” you joke.

“Actually, yes.” He blurts out. “So much flour.”

“Oh.” You start to turn red with embarrassment, “Where? Here?” you point to various spots on your face with a towel and he just shakes his head.

“No, there.” He points but you still miss it.

“Just clean it off me!”

“You want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please touch me.” Then your eyes expand in size. “Wait, that sounds wrong.”

“You have a dirty mind, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head again, “You’re just all kinds of dirty.”

“Oh my god, stop.” You look at him with your flustered as hell face, your face is probably redder than ever and it feels so fucking hot.

“Here.” Taehyung grabs the towel from your hands and begins wiping your face clean. “Your face isn’t dirty anymore.” He pulls his hand back, “But your mind still is, huh?”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Will you just shut up?” he mocks how you usually would and you roll your eyes. Hard.

“Doesn’t feel good does it?” He teases, “Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“Can we please just focus on this recipe?”

“Fine.” He breathes out, “Except I will ignore this recipe completely and do what I think my ancestors want me to do. They whisper in my ear that these need more garlic.”

“You are so annoying.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Okay, I get it, Taehyung.”

You reach behind you and untie your apron and place it on its hook by the pantry. You walk over to the dining room table and take a seat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung quirks a brow as you rest your head on the table.

“Resting. Letting you do all the work. You can cook from now on. I give up.”

Taehyung shakes his pointer finger at you and walks your way.

“Oh no, no, no.” he grabs on to your arm and begins dragging you up. “This was your idea so we are cooking together.”

“Uh, actually this was your idea.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as he realizes how true that is. “Not one of my better ideas…” he admits.

“Oh? Do you usually have good ideas?” You make your snarky comment and Taehyung let’s go of your arm.

“Usually the best.” He says, a cocky smile making its way on his stupidly handsome face.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Well, you don’t know me.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that?” You jab at him and he visibly deflates.

“You know 3 things about me actually.” He gives you a half smile.

“All I remember is that you’re almost 5’11.”

“Well, that one was the most important. So your head is in the right place.”

Taehyung doesn’t realize it because you didn’t say anything but his face is full of flour as well. You stare up at him and start to laugh. Taehyung looks at you, confused. An adorable pout forms on his lips as he begs you to tell him what’s so funny.

“Your face.” You point at him and his fingers go to touch his skin.

“Clean me.” He commands. “I cleaned you, it’s only fair.” He points out.

You nod your head and walk towards the counter to grab the towel, Taehyung follows closely behind you. You turn around quickly and your chest bumps into his.

“Oh sorry.” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I got too close.”

You nod lamely, but neither of you step back. Maybe expecting the other to do it? You decide to ignore that and you reach up to clean his face. He has flour everywhere. No joke. This dude is messy. You kind of laugh as you wipe his face clean, he can’t help but laugh too. His breath mingling with yours as you two giggle.

“We are kind of a mess.” He admits, his tone is soft—almost shy. You slow down the patting on his skin and you gaze into his eyes for a moment. They’re dark. They’re powerful. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment when Taehyung clears his throat and you bring your hand back down.

“There.” You say, “All done.”

“Should we finish cooking?” Taehyung grins down at you.

“I don’t know, what do your ancestors say?”

“They say you’re a smart ass.”

~~~~~~

“Do you think we could…we could do this again?” You and Taehyung are standing outside your bedroom door. Why did Taehyung walk you all the way to your door? The world may never know.

“Do what exactly?” he asks as he sways back and forth in front of you

“Play a game…or cook dinner…or you know just hang out.”

“Maybe… once a week we can play a game or watch a movie or something…” he gets out awkwardly.

“Wow, you’ll grace me with your presence once a week?” you roll your eyes, “How generous of you.”

“Listen…” Taehyung looks at you more seriously, “I know social contact is important for like, our mental health or whatever. But we shouldn’t push it.”

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what?” Taehyung steps forward and you gulp.

“So unfair.” You whisper. Taehyung bows his head down, he feels like he is shrinking. Because you’re right, he is being totally unfair. But he thinks this is the right move, the smart move.

“Y/n…” he sighs, “I’m doing this so we can leave.”

“And what if your little strategy isn’t working? It’s been a month Taehyung.” You point out, “And we’re still here.”

“I know, I know. Jesus, woman.” He breathes out, his dark eyes finding yours. “Look, they will get bored with us.”

“How can you be so sure?” you step forward. “What if we aren’t boring to them?” you whisper, your eyes staying on his.

“That’s why we should interact as little as possible.”

“Taehyung. No offense. But do you really think I want to interact with you?” you spit out, “I just need something, anything. I just need someone.” You step closer, “And you happen to be the only person here.”

Taehyung’s brows pinch together as he looks down at you, a frown decorating his face. He…he doesn’t want to be hurt by that.

“Once a week y/n. That’s all I can offer you.” He steps closer to you, his feet bumping into yours, “Don’t get greedy on me.”

You tilt your head up and chuckle,

“I told you I’m greedy though.” Your eyes stay on his, his piercing gaze causing you to shudder but you don’t break contact and neither does he. He’s challenging you, you can feel it. His eyes begin to narrow as he stares down at you, you wonder what he is thinking. He sighs out, his breath hitting your face and you blink up at him. You’re about to say something, anything when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You mean to keep your eyes on his eyes, you really do but you don’t. You hate yourself for dropping your gaze down to his lips. He smirks as realization hits him.

“Goodnight y/n.” He says, his voice so deep and low it catches you off guard. Then he’s stepping away from you and heading towards his room, leaving you at your door. You release the longest, shakiest breath as you watch him disappear.

You open the door to your bedroom and walk inside, you wish you could yell out in frustration. You wish you could scream into your pillow and know for sure he can’t hear you. You wish you weren’t here.

You change into some sleep clothes and slide into bed. You pull the blanket up to your nose and kick your legs dramatically. This guy is so annoying! Why can’t he just not care and live life normally so you can be normal too! Listen, you aren’t fucking thrilled about this either. But you’re handling it a lot better than he is. Why is that…? Why are you handling this so well? Maybe it’s because your real life is a fucking mess and this truly is the vacation you needed. You know, you know how pathetic that sounds.

You close your eyes and try to sleep but memories of your real life keep hitting you. You hate this. You hate all of this. You’re lonely. You’re all alone. In this this life on the island but also in your real life. You’re so fucking alone. You feel tears prick your eyes and you let yourself quietly sob for who knows how long. You wish you had someone to lean on…just in general. But you lost all of your friends at work…you lost your boyfriend…you only have your parents and even they are fed up with you.

After crying tears after tears you decide you’re thirsty. You tip toe out of bed and make your way downstairs…the house is so quiet and dark. It’s relaxing and also depressing. You finally make it to the kitchen when you scream bloody murder. Sitting in the dark at the dining room table is Taehyung.

“Wow, y/n. It’s not next week yet.” He jokes. You quickly turn on the dining room light and look at him like he’s insane.

“You fucking scared me!” you exclaim loudly, “And why are you awake?”

“I have trouble sleeping…” he admits, he scratches the back of his neck and gives you a sheepish grin. “What about you?”

You step closer to the table and Taehyung’s eyes slightly expand. He notices your swollen eyes and puffy lips. Had you been crying?

“Hey…are you okay?” he whispers out, standing from his chair.

“Don’t act like you care so suddenly.” Your eyes slide to the side, “I’m fine.”

Taehyung looks down, guilt burying itself into his body. He looks up at you and tries to speak but he doesn’t know what to say.

“I just came down for some water.” You tell him. “That’s all.” You walk over to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water then you walk to the cabinet and try to grab a glass from the top shelf but you struggle. You huff out and close your eyes in frustration when you feel Taehyung’s chest on your back.

“I’ll grab it for you.” He says softly. He reaches for a glass and hands it to you, you take it from him and offer him a small thanks.

“See? That’s something only people who are almost 5’11 could do.” He teases and you look at him with a serious expression. You look down at your feet and sigh out before you let a giggle slip between your lips.

“Goodnight Taehyung.” You look up to study his face, and you see his smile fade.

“What?” you ask.

“Once a day.” He says. “We can hang out once a day. But that’s it.”

You feel your heart do something funny…you feel your tummy doing something weird too. You feel your entire chest get hit with a wave of….something.

“It’s fine, Taehyung.” You finally say after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to push you.”

“This isn’t for you.” He smiles, “I think I need the social contact too.”

“Well, no fucking duh.” You state with the roll of your eyes. “We can’t isolate ourselves…it’s so unhealthy.”

“I get it.” He breathes out, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after that until we’re out of this place.”

~~~~~~~~

The next couple of days you and Taehyung play some games or watch a movie together, just doing at least one activity a day. Just like he said you two would. Admittingly you do feel better about this arrangement. Not talking at all was a pain in the ass and terribly lonely. Sometimes Taehyung will come to the living room and play a game by himself while you read, just sharing a space without really talking, even after he did his one activity with you. You hate to admit how much you like that he does that.

It’s not like you want to get to know him specifically…but you would like to sort of know the person you are living with…that makes sense, right? It’s not him! It’s just that he’s the only person here…and you want a friend. Yes, you can admit you want a friend. You aren’t going to fall in love with the dude…you just want someone to talk to and hang out with. God, is that such a crime? Plus, you’re in no place for love. If the company truly knows you, with their “research” and all then they should know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship.

You lay here on the couch, your legs hung over the arm of it while you stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot out today and this house happens to come with a lovely pool. The ocean is scary so no beach for you…but pool? Yes. You lay here, wondering what Taehyung is up to. He went out again today like he usually does, you wonder if you can ask him about it now…now that you guys aren’t on total terrible terms. Nah, you will wait a little longer before you ask. Instead, you rise from the sofa and head upstairs to change into a swim suit.

You have a lot of options, to be honest. This place did not lack on the clothing items! You decide on a simple dark green bikini, you try it on and decide you like the way it looks. A lot actually. Have you lost some weight? You guess the lack of fast food options has made you a little slimmer, and the amount of fresh food that’s available here. Plus you started lightly working out in the home gym, sweating a storm.

You head back downstairs and go to the back where the absolutely lovely porch is located…it’s a whole wooden deck. With a glamorous pool in the center and a hot tub off to the side. You wish you really lived in a place like this—not here, specifically. (For obvious reasons) You shrug off the towel that’s wrapped protectively over your body and make your way to the pool. You don’t know what you’re being self-conscious for…Taehyung doesn’t usually come back until sunset and it’s barely the afternoon.

You dip your toes in the water first…it’s pretty chilly but you handle it, dipping your body further and further into the water. You shiver just a bit before dunking your head underneath, letting the water consume you. You stay underwater, opening your eyes and staring at the blue nothingness.

“I love you.” He says for the first time, making you float on air. You knew he was going to say it soon, you could feel it but you were not expecting it here.

You two are sitting at Cozy Coffee, your favorite place to relax and read and write. You are in the middle of writing a very intriguing sentence when your fingers stop typing in reaction to his confession.

“You what?” you ask, a small smile adorning your face. “You love me?”

“Yes.” He reaches for your hand across the table, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I had a feeling.” You tease. “But I…”

“You don’t have to say it yet if you aren’t ready,” he squeezes your hand, “I can wait.”

“No!” you squeeze his hand back, “I…love you too.” You admit softly.

He brings his hand back, folding his hands together out in front of him and sighs out, his breaths escaping him softly.

“These past 6 months with you y/n…” he begins, “Have been the most wonderful.”

“They have been pretty nice, haven’t they?” you smirk. “Tell me your favorite part?”

“Any part where you’re naked, for sure.” He laughs and you gasp.

“Hey! Behave.” You warn with a smile and he keeps laughing.

“I’m serious, this is the best relationship I have ever had. You’re definitely the best girlfriend…all these other girls have been crazy.”

You frown at that, “Why crazy?”

“Ugh, you know how women can get.”

You don’t like the way he said that, you feel your smile twist into another frown.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because you aren’t like that. You’re different.”

You smile again, once again feeling special with his praise.

“Different how?”

“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” He half jokes. “I don’t know, you just are.”

The water is starting to sting your eyes as you continue to hold your breath, memories flooding you. This water isn’t the only thing trying to drown you. You finally squeeze your eyes shut and swim up to the surface, gasping for air once you reach it. You breathe out heavily as you try to catch a breath, your wet hair dripping down your just as wet face. You swim to the edge of the pool and lift yourself up on the ledge and sit with your legs still in the water.

Why do you have to think of him?

After an hour or so that passes and plenty of sun later you decide you’ve had enough of the day outside. You stand to your feet and grab your towel and dry off, draping the towel over your right arm. You’re still pretty wet you admit, but nothing crazy. You head for the house, walking through the back door. Once you enter the house the cool AC hits you, causing you to shiver but you decide a warm shower will solve this. You turn the corner in the hall to head upstairs when your body slams into another body. You run into Taehyung hard causing you to tumble over and fall on top of him.

Taehyung yelps out when he makes contact with you, his body falling to the hard tiled floor and he winces. You fall on top of him, your chest smooshing his face. Yeah, your boobs in his face. That’s what that fucking means. Your wet boobs in his sweaty face.

“What the hell?” Taehyung mumbles between your breasts, “Get off me.”

You’re quick to try to scramble off his body, your hands landing in all the wrong places as you try to lift yourself. He groans loudly when you make contact with his lower hips and his hands go to grab your wrists trying to stop you from moving around so much.

“Chill, chill.” He breathes out slowly, still holding on to your wrists. He makes his way out from beneath you and pulls you up by the wrists.

“I wasn’t this sweaty before you ran into me…” Taehyung observes, “How wet are you?”

“I wasn’t this wet until running into you. How fucking sweaty are you?!”

“Fair.” Taehyung says with a smirk, then he’s blinking at you. “You went swimming today?” he eyes you up and down and you immediately feel insecure under his intense gaze.

“Uh, yeah.” You take the towel that’s draped around your arm and go to cover yourself with it.

“Why are you getting shy now?” as sly smile draws itself on Taehyung’s face. “You didn’t seem this shy just a moment ago with your tits in my face?” he questions with a low voice.

“Oh my god, can we not bring that up?” you begin to blush and you hate yourself for it.

“Why not?”

“It was an accident first of all. There will never be a time again where my boobs are in your face.”

“Oh you’re making the company sad.” Taehyung pouts.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs. His laughter dies down though when he shamelessly eyes you again.

“Green is my favorite color.” He says while walking past you and heading upstairs.

You stand here, embarrassed as fucking usual. Your whole body warming up and you don’t even feel that cold AC any longer. You breathe in and breathe out. Taehyung is not making this stay very easy, is he?

~~~~~~

Month: 2

“Don’t you use that blue shell!” You scream at the air around you, your eyes concentrating on the screen ahead.

Taehyung smirks, working his fingers on the controller. God, he can really move his fingers. Wait, why the hell would you think that?

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

You are both totally immersed in your game, the finish line in sight. You jump to your feet in rushed excitement as the finish line is soon approaching. You need this win to tie with him on your ongoing competition in Mario Kart. You’re both oh so close, the anticipation rising. Like, honestly you might shit yourself. Taehyung also leaps to his feet, joining you at your side. Now you are both screaming at the screen, your throats will totally pay for this later. You are jumping up and down, yelling at one another , slamming your fingers on the controllers, harshly pressing down on the accelerator button. You can see it. Its literally right in front of you! AND you are ahead of him! The finish line! Your screams getting louder and louder…when…you are graced with a black screen.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You yell in unison.

You turn to face Taehyung, the one you hate the most right now. Your eyes dark and your voice low.

“What did you do?”

“ME? I didn’t do anything!” He says accusingly.

“You must have! You knew I was going to win—”

“First of all, we don’t know that.” He cuts you off all matter of fact. So annoying.

You look at him incredulously.

“THAT’S IT! I’m going to strangle you!” Before you can take a step towards him to you know, kill him, the screen turns a bright white, catching your attention. Lucky dude. Your focus now on the screen, you look at it with your head tilted to the side. There are black letters at the top of the screen and you decide to read out loud whatever this caption says.

“Re…Request?” your eyes scan the word slowly. “Oh. Oh shit,” Your eyes go wide, you turn to face Taehyung, his expression mirroring your own. You had completely, like completely forgot about the ‘Requests’. It has been a couple months of silence so how could you not forget? You wonder if this company is finally ready to move …this…along. Whatever this is.

Only seconds pass before more black words appear on the screen. Your eyes stay on Taehyung though, too nervous to read what comes next.

Taehyung must realize you have no intention on reading anymore because he exhales deeply and faces the screen.

“Okay, here goes…” he begins, “The two subjects must…”

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 15-21

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 15-21 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter) Scene 15

"My mother and I think alike. There are too many names, and we didn't know whether they're good or not. So we said, that's good enough. This name will be somewhat fine. Whew, perfect.'

"But you're Aerith now, aren't you? So there was an issue after all?

"Yeah it was a big one. In terms of the number of incidents, I don't think you’ll beat me to it, Tifa."

She let out a huge sigh, and Tifa then showed sympathy for her struggles.

Scene 16

It was the day after they decided on the name 'Rona'. Marvin came down in the morning, Roger in the evening. And the day after that, Bauman came down in the morning and Lewis in the evening. All of them brought gifts for Rona, the daughter of a relative taken in by Elmyra Gainsborough. She was the wife and the representative of Clay, the second in charge, who was the representative of Gabriel, the first in charge. Apparently, the news spread quickly to everyone who was related to the business. The old-fashioned room on the second floor turned into a vibrant space full of primary colours because of the children's souvenirs.

Aerith particularly liked the 'animal cards' and 'plant cards' that Bauman had brought over. With Elmyra's permission, she pasted the cards on the wall. She was able to lose track of time gazing at the illustrations of unknown creatures. It's not that she didn't like the other gifts - such as the books and the dolls. Whatever it was, the experience of receiving things like gifts and souvenirs was new and exciting. Except in the mornings and evenings when she had to attend to her guests, mainly the members that were the third in charge, Elmyra still spent her time outside. Rodin secretly told Aerith that Elmyra no longer went to the station but roamed around the slums. She wonders if Clay was wandering the streets because he couldn't go home for some reason. That's what she thinks.

Scene 17

"And then, the night came."

Tifa then nodded quietly next to her.

"My mother, Ifalna, came that night and looked down the corridor with a troubled look on her face. I got out of bed, opened the door and looked down the aisle. I could see the light downstairs. I went down and saw my mother, Elmyra, washing the dishes and scrubbing them clean in the kitchen. I could smell the grass. It had a thick, stuffy smell. I thought I heard voices, and I saw a trooper standing at the door."

Scene 18

Aerith thought that Shinra's soldiers had come to take her away. Startled, he called for Elmyra, but she did not move. Her voice was not heard, and the trooper turned to look at her. Then he took off his helmet. He was the man she had only seen in pictures.

"Clay?"

His face was dirty, and when looked closely, he could be seen covered in mud. He really looked like he had been wandering around a lot.

"Welcome back, Clay."

However, Clay was only just looking around his surroundings and looked like he was unsure where to go. Elmyra didn't notice him, even though the Clay she loves was right over there!

"Mummy!"

Sure enough, she can't hear her.

“Clay!”

Clay closes his eyes tightly and opens them again. He probably thought that this would change the scene in front of him. What was he seeing? He closed and opened them again and rubbed them with the back of his hands repeatedly. He let out a loud sigh and then crouched down at where he stood. Even though she tried to get closer, her legs would not move.

"Clay!"

As expected, Aerith couldn't be heard. Clay sprawled his body on the floor, and it looked like he used all his strength to do so. His lips were moving. Aerith wondered what he was saying and then focused on his consciousness.

“Elmyra, I'm sorry,” Aerith felt that he said that.

"Clay, no! Mummy, please look here!" Aerith yelled.

After that, she woke up. She was on her own bed. However, she firmly believed that it was not a dream. Clay passed away. Moments before his death, his spirit connected with the planet, and he probably went to see the place he had wanted to visit the most before he died. She wondered if he had seen Elmyra.

Aerith got out of bed, went downstairs, and saw Elmyra standing in the kitchen, washing the dishes. There was no longer any unusual smell.

"Mummy."

How should she tell her?

"Mummy, don't cry."

Elmyra turned around with a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong?"

"A man you really really love just died. His heart came a long way to say goodbye. But he couldn't stay 'cause he had to return to the planet."

Elmyra looked at her in silence.

"Are you saying that Clay is dead?"

"Yes. But, I think he had properly returned to the planet."

"Aerith. Go back to your bed."

There was undeniable anger in her voice. Aerith's chest tightened.

"Mummy..."

"Go back to your bed."

"Clay had returned to the planet. He'll always be connected with you, Mummy. That's why..."

Elmyra forcefully took Aerith in her arms, carried her up the stairs and put her back in bed as if she were luggage. She slammed the door and left, with her anger lingering in the room. Aerith covered herself with her blanket and cried. She wasn't crying because she had angered Elmyra. She was sad that Elmyra could not see Clay.

She felt Ifalna's presence was very close to her. Even though she had her blanket, she knew it was her.

"Mummy..."

She peered out of the blanket and saw a kind face, but Ifalna looked different than usual. Aerith could see the wall through her face, and she could see through Ifalna's body. She looked like Clay just before he disappeared.

"Mummy!"

Aerith jumped up in a panic. Her mother's face blended in with the patterns on the wall. Her lips were moving, and she was saying something, but Aerith couldn't hear anything. She reached out to feel Ifalna, but she lost her balance and fell off the bed. Her whole body hurt, but she bore with it and searched for her mother. Her whole body was disappearing, and her mouth was moving. As expected, she couldn't hear her voice, and she completely disappeared. There was no longer a sign of anyone.

↞↠

The next day was quiet. When Aerith woke up, Elmyra had already left the house. She had prepared a simple meal for her and left a note saying that she would be out until evening before returning home and that she would not have any guests today. Aerith finished her meal and went back upstairs to her room. She opened a drawer from her desk and took out a small pouch. In it, was a white materia that Ifalna had given her. She placed it on the palm of her hand and grasped it tightly. She then felt at ease. That was the only thing that did not change.

In the evening, the door opened quietly. The sound of footsteps, followed by the pull of a chair, can be heard if listened carefully. Aerith concealed her footsteps and headed downstairs. She saw Elmyra sitting at her usual seat at the dining table, sprawled on the table, and could hear her weeping. Elmyra probably noticed Aerith's presence and turned around to look at her. Her eyes were deep red.

"The news came from Shinra. The helicopter he was on crashed into the forest. Because he went away from the crash site, it seems that they discovered him late. He probably tried to exit the forest. Why didn't he just stand by and wait? He was always like that."

"He wanted to see you, Mummy. That's why he walked. He came to see you."

"And then he returned to the Planet? Stop talking about that already."

"But..."

"Why did he return to the Planet! His home is here, isn't it? Shouldn't this be the only place he returns to? That's a reason why he couldn't do that, and because of that, he's dead. No matter what anyone says, Clay's already..."

Elmyra raised her cries and bawled like a child. Aerith chest tightened by the sight of an adult crying.

"But even so, he returned to the Planet! We are connected with the Planet! That's why he'll always be together with you!"

"Aerith, I beg you. Stop it already, please."

"But I lost my Mummy Ifalna too! I won't believe that she didn't return to the Planet, I won't!"

↞↠

Over the next few days, Elmyra and Aerith were companions overcome by grief. They spent their time together, huddled together, and the warmth of each other's body was an antidote that relieved their loneliness. Butch and colleagues took turns to come and check on them after hearing of Clay's death. It seemed that Rodin told his colleagues to deliver Elmyra some food after finding out that Elmyra had even lost the will to do her house chores. Carlo appeared on behalf of Meguro, who was not feeling well. It was Aerith's first time meeting him. He was a tall, thin young man and had black, wet-looking hair combed down backwards. He seemed restless and always had some part of his body moving. Aerith was afraid of him at first because he gave a strong hooligan-like impression, but he was kind to Aerith from the start. To her surprise, Carlo volunteered to do all the house chores. Elmyra disliked him, but she tolerated him coming in and out of the house. Her spirits must have been so low.

A week or so has passed. There was a loud noise of tableware breaking in the kitchen. It did not seem like minor damage. Elmyra and Aerith were upstairs, but they couldn't ignore it and went to take a look at the situation.

Elmyra stared at the vast number of broken fragments scattered about the floor. Carlo drooped his head to the side.

"Is this expensive?"

"I have no idea. These were collected and given by Gabriel when Clay and I first got together."

"That probably isn't cheap... Or should I say, it's perhaps an exceptionally top-grade item? My apologies, Elmyra. I looked in the cupboard and saw a lot of dust... I can’t stand things being dusty, so I couldn't help myself but clean it..."

Elmyra was still staring at the fragments, ignoring Carlo, who was looking at her. Carlo, having given up on words of forgiveness, squatted down and began to pick up the broken pieces.

"Hey, Carlo. Can you go home now?”

"Elmyra," he said in a shameful voice. "Give me a chance."

"It's not that. If you pick up the pieces like that, won't you hurt yourself? I'll clean up afterwards. You go back. I'll talk to Meguro and tell him that you've helped a lot. Yes, that's the truth. You've helped me out."

Carlo's face lit up.

"You are so simple. You have to hide your emotions more to get ahead in this world."

"Ahhh, right."

Carlo slapped himself on the face, and his expression changed.

"Well then, I'll get going now, and call me if anything comes up. And, about the injury on your face, I'm sorry."

"I fell on my own, you know."

"No..." Carlo shook his head in denial. "I don't know how to apologise to Clay otherwise."

His voice was trembling. They looked at Carlo in surprise. He was crying.

"'He was a good man. He was always there for me when I made a fool of myself, scolding me and even connected me to Gabriel. I can't believe he's gone..."

"Hey, don't cry. It isn't cool."

The usual Elmyra was back. Carlo rubbed the area around his eyes with his arm and grinned.

“You too,” he awkwardly remarked and left.

"Well then..." Elmyra said as she looked around the house, "They've cleaned the place pretty well, but it's far off my standards! I'll have to clean the whole house. Aerith. No, Rona. Do you have the energy to help?"

"Yup!"

Aerith was surprised by her own cheerful voice.

Scene 19

"Then we did a major cleanup of the whole house together. Firstly, we cleared the broken fragments, then we opened all the windows and used a feather duster and a broom to get rid of the dust and the tears — Mum loves to clean, she has many brooms and mops in the house. She cut the handle of one of them with a saw for my use. We wiped the house down the next day. Once the house was clean, it was time to remodel the home. We decided to change the curtains in my room and the cover of my bed. It was then that we went shopping for the first time. It was the first time that we went out together.”

Scene 20

They were walking down an alleyway that continued from the front of their house and went past the neighbourhood "Sector 5 House" orphanage. Children around the same age as Aerith leapt out and blocked their way.

"You're Rona, right?", "Rona? She's Rona?", "You're an orphan?" , "Nope, I heard she's an adopted kid. How lucky!", "Come live here!", "How cute...", "Why are you so flashy?"

Aerith was disorientated by the rapid succession of crude remarks pouring down onto her and hid behind Elmyra. She felt uncomfortable because she wasn't addressed by 'Rona' when it was just the both of them back home. After Carlo left, the self-consciousness that she's Rona was also diminishing. She was feeling nervous, and then someone touched her hair from the side. Startled by the suddenness, Aerith let out a small shriek.

"Ayumu, stop it!"

An older boy yelled.

"If you pick on Rona, you'll get in trouble."

"I wasn't picking on her!"

"Yeah, she wasn't. I was just shocked. She isn't a bad kid."

"If that's the case, it's fine, but..."

"No, no, this is not fine." Elmyra butted in. "Jean, who would y'all get in trouble with?"

"Carlo said so."

Elmyra frowned at the reply of Jean, the older boy.

"Did you hear about Rona from Carlo?"

"Yup, that's right. If we make Rona from the Gainsborough household cry, he'll make us cry threefold."

Elmyra let out a sigh.

"Well, Rona, don't be shy. Say hi to them. These kids are from the Sector 5 House. They're like neighbours to us, so be nice to them, okay?"

Aerith was now ready.

"Hello, I'm Rona. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you!" A cheerful voice replied.

"I'm Sarah", "I'm Zoey", "I'm Glad", "I'm Yoko", "This is Ayumu. She's my sister."

Ayumu was the girl who touched her hair.

"'I'm Jean,' said the older boy at last. "You can come and play with us whenever you want."

"Okay, thank you."

"Do you want to play now?"

Ayumu invited her. The children all looked at her with eyes of expectancy, and that tickled Aerith. It was the first time that so many children of the same age, even though it's six of them, were staring at her. When she was at a loss as to how to respond, Elmyra stepped in to help.

"My bad, you all, but we're going shopping today. I'd like Rona to choose lots of things, so I can't leave her here. Please let her play with you all next time."

Elmyra took Aerith by the hand, and after a short distance, she looked back to see the children staring at her. One of the children, who introduced herself as Sarah, waved her tiny hand across her chest. After she waved back, the other children waved wildly in return. What a happy sight, wasn't it? Until they were out of sight, Aerith turned around and continued to wave her hand.

"It seems like you all can get along, doesn't it?"

"Yup!"

Aerith was then introduced to numerous acquaintances of Elmyra, including a café owner and the town doctor. They were all very friendly. Before they parted, Elmyra told them about Clay's death as if it were just another topic. Before they could express any surprise or words of condolences or sympathy, she would add, "I miss him, but having her helps me take my mind off him."

Before the slight smile on their faces faded off, Elmyra would walk away.

"I'm sorry, Aerith, for using this as an excuse to end the conversation. But I don't want to talk too much about Clay. It's probably better for me to talk about it, but for now, let me do this, please."

"Okay. I'm fine with it. But, I'm Rona, right?"

"Ahhh, yes. Rona. Even when it's just the both of us, I'll still have to address you as 'Rona'."

↞↠

It was one week after the introduction of Rona. Aerith was playing with the children in front of the Sector 5 House when she saw Meguro walking down the road. His pure white suit stood out against the earthy-coloured road. She was told earlier that he was coming over to visit and promised Elmyra that she would play at the House until then. A boy, probably around ten years old, was walking behind him. He was wearing relaxed-fitting trousers, a bright white shirt and had a bored look on his face. There was also a girl who walked up behind him. She was wearing a skirt, with the hem almost touching the ground, which was a rarity in the slums. She pinched her area around her thighs, and it looked like she had difficulty walking. She was wearing an ornate blouse and a large hat. With one look, they were three people who appeared to be well off.

"Oh!"

'Rona' (Aerith) understood the meaning of what she was seeing. Even though the impression was that Meguro was coming over alone, that was not the case. He had brought his children with him. In other words, the real Rona had come.

She apologised to her playmates and ran down the road. She then ran through the planked road in the garden and darted into the house.

"'Mummy, it's Mr Meguro. He's with his children. The real Rona is here!"

Elmyra did not seem too disturbed.

"'He didn't tell me that he would be with his children."

"What should we do?

"You mean the name? He isn't a shallow guy. He'll understand. I'm sure he already knows it too."

Meguro first introduced his son, Marcellus, then his daughter, Rona. Rona was looking at Aerith, who was not hiding her curiosity. Meguro then opened his attache case and took out three white flowers. He gives one to Marcellus and the other to Rona. Elmyra looked at the remaining one, which Meguro was holding onto.

"I'm sorry that these flowers are fake, but there's no way I would steal flowers from your garden."

Elmyra nodded and pointed at the photo frame on top of the table. It had a picture of a father and son, Clay and Gabriel, together. They looked as though they were brothers. Meguro and his children placed a flower in front of the picture. They crossed their fingers in front of their chest, put their palms together and closed their eyes. Aerith wondered what they were doing, and she looked at them with her mouth agape. Eventually, they opened their eyes and looked at Meguro. Aerith hurriedly closed her mouth.

"Is it unusual to pray? I'm old-fashioned, so this is how I convey my thoughts to the dead."

"Can you actually convey your thoughts?"

Marcellus snorted after she asked, and he probably felt fear the next moment as Meguro glared at him. Aerith glanced at Rona for a moment. Their eyes met, and Rona smiled.

"That's what I believe, and the important thing is to believe. Gabriel used to tell me often that it is the foundation of everything."

Elmyra was listening, and she quietly nodded.

"Well, Elmyra. I would have immediately come over, but my body didn't allow me to," Meguro said apologetically.

"It's alright. You sent Carlo over, didn't you? He really helped me out."

"How was Carlo?"

"He worked as though he was a different person, I can't help but wonder if something strange happened.”

"Clay was someone he adored dearly like his own brother, you know. I think he wanted to repay Clay by helping you out. He probably was so aggressive towards you all the time because he didn't like that you took him away from him, Elmyra.

"That's childish of him. Nope, I was the same as him too. Clay always took Carlo with him when he goes out for the night,  and I can't tell you how many times I've complained about it."

"Hey, I'm thirsty," Marcellous muttered to his father. He was pouting.

"What should you do if you're thirsty?"

The boy looked annoyed for a moment, but he quickly realised what he should do and asked Elmyra for a drink.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't notice. I'll be right with you."

As Elmyra was preparing the drinks, Rona came running up to Aerith.

"I was born in March. What month were you born in Aerith?

"I was born in February."

"Ahhh, so you're only a month older than I am."

"She's not Aerith. She's Rona, isn't she? She stole your name," Marcellus condemned.

"I don't mind at all, okay?" Rona uttered with a smile.

She truly didn't seem to mind. However, there was a premise amongst everyone that Aerith stole her name. Aerith felt pain in her breathing as if her heart had been clenched."

"About that..."

Elmyra was carrying a tray of lemonade. She handed them out to everyone, interrupting Aerith.

"Meguro, I was thinking of a new name for Aerith at your suggestion, but I didn't decide on it properly, and Aerith had to introduce herself suddenly. And at that time, she replied 'Rona' on the spur of the moment."

"After I heard from Mr Meguro about Rona, I wondered what she was like. I wondered if I could meet her and wondered whether we could get along. I kept thinking about Rona, so I said her name."

"It's my fault that I didn't control the situation properly. Since the word has been spread across the neighbourhood, may we leave her name like that?"

Meguro gave a composed nod.

"Of course. There shouldn't be an issue."

"I'm happy about it!" Rona's voice lit up. "After all, you liked the name, didn't you? My mama thought up the name 'Rona' and named me that."

"But she died after giving birth to you, though."

Marcellus struck his sister in the shoulder, and the expression on Rona's face completely went away.

"Marcellus, if you blame Rona for that again, I'll throw you out of the house," Meguro declared with a low voice.

"Okay." Marcellus nodded. He looked like he was sulking.

He was foaming and playing with the lemonade, blowing it through a straw inserted in the glass. He was having fun gushing the lemonade out from the glass and getting the table wet. It's going to be tough getting along with this boy, Aerith thought. But Elmyra trusts Meguro, and that was his son. She decided to make peace with it all and went ahead with it.

"Then we will also..." Meguro uttered, "address you as Rona, not Aerith. It's important to make a habit of these things regularly."

"Rona, nice to meet you," said the real Rona.

"Nice to meet you, Rona," Aerith replied. "Marcellus, nice to meet you too."

There was no response.

"Okay, children. We have some business to attend to, so you all can go outside and play. Only in the garden, though. Don't go into the alley."

"Understood."

Marcellus replied firmly and drank his lemonade in one gulp. Rona imitated him in a hurry and Aerith also did so, but she choked and spilled some on the table. Elmyra laughed and pressed her to go off quickly.

When they went out into the garden, they saw Jean and his friends from Sector 5 House watching them from the garden entrance.

"'Pathetic orphans!” Marcellus spat and waved at them.

"'Hey~!”

"What should we do, big brother? Orphans are scary."

"We don't have to worry since we've got a powerful dad."

The conversation between them made Aerith nervous. She had a feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

"Come on, y'all!" Marcellus called out for them in a cheerful voice.

"Is it alright if we come over?" Jean asks again.

"Of course. Let's play 'Tickling Ogre'."

"What's that? We don't know what that is."

Jean came into the garden accompanied by a group of children from the Sector 5 House. There were around two or three faces Aerith didn't recognize.

“It's a game that's popular in the Sector 4 Slums. Ahh, you all won't know that since you all live in an orphanage.”

Aerith did not overlook the gloominess that dwelled in Jean's eyes. But Ayumu was still young and unaware of Marcellus' malicious intent.

"Sounds interesting! Can you teach us how to play 'Tickling Ogre'? Hey, what're your names?" asked Ayumu.

"I'm Marcellus."

"I'm Rona."

The siblings introduced themselves. Aerith braced herself nervously.

"Ehhh? There are two Ronas!" Ayumu looked at Jean with an amazed look on her face.

"It's not a rare coincidence," Jean replied with a know-it-all look.

"It's a coincidence, alright."

Marcellus said in a low voice and looked triumphantly at Aerith.

"She stole the name of my little sister over here. Her real name is Aerith. She's Aerith, the name thief. Right?"

There was a grin on Marcellus' face. All the children who were there looked at Aerith.

"I'm not a thief! I'm not a thief!

"All thieves say that," Marcellus, who has finally shown his true colours, mocked her.

"Stop it, big brother!" Rona pleaded, but Marcellus didn't seem to hear her.

"I'm not a thief!"

That was the only thing she did not want to admit.

"Name thief."

"I'm not!"

Her voice was hoarse. She thought to herself that she should not cry, but tears rolled out of her eyes.

"I'm not!"

"You're an orphan, aren't you? You know what? You suit being at an orphanage. But you went into Clay's house. How clever!” Marcellus showed his disgust.

"Shut up!"

Someone rammed himself into Marcellus. It was Jean. With a short period of anguish, Marcellus falls on his back. Another boy pinned Marcellus down. His name was X. He doesn't usually play with the others much and instead helps the teachers. He was a small boy, but he must have been three or four years older than Aerith.

"Stop it! Get out of the way!"

"Don't make fun of the House!" X shouted.

"Shabby orphans, poverty-stricken orphans," Marcellus' abusive language did not stop.

"Fight! Fight!" the girls cheered on.

The children's violence made Aerith cower in fear.

"Stop it!" Rona shouted. "Big brother, apologise to them!"

X grabbed the collar of Marcellus' shirt and shook him.

"The first one that should apologise is Aerith! She's the name thief."

Marcellus did not give in. Jean looked down the alley and then at the door of the Gainsborough house.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I used Rona's name without her permission."

"You used it without her permission? Tell them you stole it!

"That's not true."

X slapped Marcellus on the cheek.

"Stop it!"

Aerith felt as though she had been struck. She did not feel like standing up for Marcellus, but she felt this was too much.

"Stop it, X.”

"Not unless he apologises. I can't forgive him for making a fool of us and the House.”

"Apologise!"

X shouted and was about to strike him again.

"Aerith first!"

Aerith wanted it to be over.

"I'm sorry. I stole Rona's name. I'm sorry, Rona. I'm sorry, Marcellus."

She was in tears. Jean moved and helped X up to his feet. Marcellus, now free, staggered to his feet.

"Hmm. You finally admit it."

There was a trickle of blood oozing from the cut on his mouth. His whole body was trembling. He looked as if he was doing his best to keep up a bold front.

"You're next. Apologise for insulting our House."

Marcellus slowly looked at Jean, then at the children of the House.

Then he grinned...

"Poverty-stricken orphanage!"

Firstly, Jean, X and the children whose names she did not know because it was the first time she saw them, jumped onto Marcellus one after another. Another fight had begun. Rona then let out a scream and ran to the Gainsborough house. That was it! She should have called for help from the start! Aerith also chased after Rona. Just as Rona was about to put her hand on the door, it opened, and Meguro appeared. He understood the situation at an instant.

"Hey!"

It was an angry voice that sounded like it gushed from the depths of the earth. Aerith could not imagine Meguro other than what he usually was, and she shuddered. The same was for the children who were fighting. Elmyra was astonished as she appeared by the doorway. Leaving Aerith, Rona and Elmyra behind, Meguro shortened the distance between him and the children.

"Run!" either Jean or X shouted.

The children of the House quickly disappeared into the alley. Meguro grabbed Marcellus by the ear as he stood there and brought him back to the Gainsborough house. Marcellus stumbled along, exclaiming that it hurt.

"I'm seriously fed up with you."

"They came into the garden. I tried to chase them away, but they started it."

"That's the reason for your actions?"

"It was firstly Aerith's fault."

"It has been settled. Rona and I gave her permission. It has nothing to do with you."

"But...!"

"You have to be smarter than that! How many times do I have to tell you for you to understand? Listen, Marcellus. You don't have a mother. Whenever you mess up, they'll say it's because you don't have a mother. You'll be smearing mud on the face of your mother and me, you understand?" Meguro continued to pull Marcellus's ear while scolding him.

"Meguro, that's about time to stop it."

Elmyra could not keep watching this and gently pressed down Meguro's hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Meguro then let go of Marcellus' ear―

"Aerith, I'm sorry. Please forgive Marcellus. He's a moron, but he did what he did because he thought of his little sister. Please forgive him for Rona's and my sake."

Marcellus was behind Meguro, glaring at her. Aerith was okay to accept whatever conditions so that she could put an end to this mess now.

"It's okay. It's my fault. I'm really sorry."

Aerith faced Meguro, Marcellus and Rona and apologised to them individually. Lastly, she looked up at Elmyra, and she gave her a tiny nod.

"Well then, Elmyra. Let's finish up the job. Rona and Aerith, you can go inside. Marcellus, you'll stay here and reflect."

Once inside the house, Aerith was looking out of the window at Marcellus. She wondered if that was what monsters were like. Soon it was time for Meguro and the others to leave.

"I'll stop by the orphanage to warn them. They are not to enter the Gainsborough garden. And if anything happens to Aerith... no... Rona, the orphanage may disappear. I probably should nail that into them that much."

"No, Meguro. I'll talk to them. I'm very close to the adults there. I'd like to keep things peaceful."

"...Well, if you like it that way, then it's fine. It's your property. But if you ever need my face, feel free to turn to me. Don’t need to hesitate."

He was no longer the kind-looking gentleman that Aerith met at first. That was a front for the children.

While she was vaguely thinking about that, Rona ran up to her and whispered, "My name, I'll let you use it, okay? You're special, Aerith."

Rona was both kind and cruel.

Scene 21

"Hey, is the Sector 5 House that Jean and the others were from, different from the Leaf House?"

Tifa, who had been listening in silence, raised the question.

"It's the same, it's the same. If I recall correctly, the 'Lower Class Sector 5 House' was the official name, and Sector 5 House was the common name. That name was changed to the 'Leaf House'. I didn't know it at the time, but there was a rumour that its proprietors were selling kids away."

"Ehhh!?"

"It seems that neither the children nor teachers knew about it. Negotiations were then held with the house's proprietors by X, and he bought the house over. He was one of the kids that stood up against Marcellus and had grown up."

"I see. There was a fellow Avalanche member who had been aiding the orphanage he was raised in, so I thought he was related to this, but it seems like it's different..."

Tifa looked disappointed.

"Biggs?"

"You know him!?"

"I never met him, but a lot of the teachers and kids were talking about him. He was respected... ahhh!?"

Due to shock, Aerith's voice unconsciously became louder.

"X is Biggs!"

"What do... you mean?"

"He didn't have a name because he was picked up as a baby. So the people in the House decided to call him 'X' until his name was decided. He liked the alias, and he kept calling himself 'X'. He declared that he would give himself the best name one day."

When the kids at the House found out that Aerith's name 'Rona' was fake, the reactions were mixed. But only X, talked about the situation about his name and consoled her. It was better to decide one’s name on one’s own.

Aerith saw Tifa's eyes welling up.

"Amazing, Biggs... You were amazing... I have to tell Barret about this too." ↞↠ You’re on page 93/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel. to be continued Next Scenes: Scenes 22-27 Previous Scenes: Scenes 10-14 Back to Content Page (click/tap here) follow @istanleyff7​ on twitter for updates support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)

[newtonsheffield]

would we ever see lucy's uncle getting his dues? like in the book the man had to leave but here?

I would love nothing more than to see Robert Abernathy go to hell, or possibly jail for Embezzlement 👀👀👀

Unfortunately that has not yet happened, no here’s how Lucy was finally free of her Uncle Robert for the most part.

Despite practically every conversation with her Uncle Robert ending with his vow that this would be the very last time she saw him, he was quite persistent in his attempts to comment on her life choices. Lucy had hoped when he’d shown up at their house 2 days before she married Gregory, when they were practically on the way out the door to travel to Dover, and told her not to go through with it, that it would be the last she heard from him. Unfortunately, that was not the case. He had not attended their wedding, and truly for several months it had seemed that he had given up. And then Lucy and Gregory had attended Richard and Hermione’s wedding and been the maid of honour and she’d watched as Gregory was accosted by her Uncle before she could get them at the reception.

“Gerald. I see you were invited.” Lucy had heard her Uncle snipe and sweet, Calm Gregory had smiled and said

“I think they felt they had to, Sir, I am Lucy’s husband after all. Congratulations though, you must be so proud of Richard today.” Before excusing himself, walking towards Lucy and dipping her into a dramatic kiss in front of all of their friends and relatives that went on so long Lucy’s cheeks were flushed. Uncle Robert was practically puce by the end.

They had heard from him only intermittently, until she’d announced her pregnancy nearly 2 years after they married. She’d posted it on Instagram. A black and white picture of Gregory’s hand on her stomach the bump just starting to form. Within 10 minutes she had a phone call, sitting at her desk

“Lucy Abernathy-Bridger-” she’d started, and then she’d been cut off

“Lucinda, you have truly done it this time.” Her Uncle’s voice was harsh in her ear. Lucy sighed, trying to stay calm as he continued “You’ll never get away from him now. You’ll be tied to the boy forever.” And Lucy had said, very calmly tears pricking in her eyes,

“Good. I want to be.” She’d hung up the phone before he could berate her further and managed to ignore him for the majority of her pregnancy, seeing him only at the Christening of her new nephew. Uncle Robert had gutted and said “I hope you mean to find a better way to support your family now, Gerald.” And Gregory had bemusedly said “I’m a solicitor?” Before Lucy had dragged them away.

Unfortunately Robert Abernathy seemed to think it was his duty to see Lucy’s child, and so, he turned up on the doorstep 3 days after they brought Katie home from the hospital. Gregory had been laying on his back on the living room floor, Katie asleep on his chest when there’d been a knock at the door. Lucy had risen a little begrudgingly from the sofa still sore, though not wanting to disturb her family, opened the door expecting any number of Gregory’s relatives only to find her Uncle.

“Uncle Robert it’s not really a good time.” She said, dryly and Robert Abernathy had scoffed and said

“So you plan to keep your family from your child do you, Lucinda? Very adult.” In his brisk voice that always raised Lucy’s hackles but she was too tired for an argument so she let him inside. He snatched The baby from Gregory’s chest despite Lucy’s protests and stared down at her.

“And her name is?” He said expectantly looking at Lucy.

“Katharine, we call her Katie.” Lucy said firmly, knowing her poor child was in for a lifetime of Robert using her full name despite being repeatedly asked not too. And to everyone’s surprise Robert Abernathy laughed.

“Well, I’ll say this, she’s a pretty little thing. Shame you named her after a woman who slept her way to the middle though.” Lucy’s mouth dropped open, anger rising in her chest, ready to defend herself to defend her family. But it was unnecessary because apparently Uncle Robert had now run aground of even sweet, patient Gregory’s patience.

“Mr Abernathy,” he started calmly, taking his daughter back from the man and gently handing her to Lucy, “I feel I have been more than patient over the years. I have let you berate me, and lecture me, you’ve berated Lucy her entire life, and made her feel inadequate, and that’s disgusting enough. But I’m afraid I won’t allow you to do it to my daughter.” Lucy had never heard Gregory’s voice so commanding, it was a little startling. Uncle Robert looked a little taken aback, opening his mouth to argue but Gregory didn’t let him, adjusting his glasses before continuing

“No, Sir. It’s my turn now. I’m sorry if you feel that my love and support isn’t enough for your niece, or that it isn’t masculine enough. But I love my wife, and I love my daughter, and I will no longer stand in my home and let you talk to them this way. My daughter who, by the way, is named after one of the most incredible people I know, is only going to know unconditional love and so I’m afraid you’re no longer welcome here.”

Robert Abernathy looked practically purple as he stormed from the room. Lucy was frozen, she felt something wet on her cheeks and realised she was crying, her heart brimming with quiet love for her Husband.

“Luce, I’m sorry I just couldn’t stand it anymore I-” Lucy cut him off

“I love you so much Gregory Bridgerton.” And she pulled him into a deep kiss, the tiny baby their love had created nestled between them.

[doberbutts]

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was beaten by his father so savagely that he went deaf, while his father’s girlfriend watched and did nothing?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was abandoned and locked inside an empty apartment until the 1950s equivalent of CPS was tipped off he was there and took him to save him from starvation, because dear old grandpa and his girlfriend at the time didn’t want a defective child once they figured out they’d permanently fucked him up?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he bounced from foster home to foster home until he was held down and raped by one of his foster brothers, tried to tell his foster mother, and she just called him a faggot and left it at that?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was finally reunited with his mother and had to scrape together a living by eating stale bread and running errands for what turned out to be local gangs, because she was too poor to feed another mouth?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he watched a black man shot by police bleed out in the street?

Where was my father’s male privilege when teachers who should have caught his deafness instead made him believe he was failing his classes because he was stupid because that’s just how black people are?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he got the tar kicked out of him by his white classmates who felt emboldened by their female teacher’s anti-black racism?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he brought the subject of racism up with the school board after a cross was lit on fire on his desk, and he was dismissed by both male and female staff?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he struggled to find a job after completing college, completing a master’s degree, which he paid for exclusively with scholarships earned from his competitive essay writing, because no one wanted to hire a disabled black man?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was accused of assault by a white female student who could not keep her story straight and eventually admitted she had made it up because she wanted to put her black principal back in his place?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was violently cuffed and illegally searched while I sat in the carseat and he was forced to comfort me through the window?

Where was my father’s male privilege when his wife, my mother, was immediately disowned by her entire family for associating herself with him? When she was forced to make a choice between a future with him, or her family? When he sees this echo with his children, and my sister’s children have still never met my brother-in-law’s family despite more than 10 years of marriage?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he came to pick us up from school and my school refused to let him in until the cops verified he was exactly who he said he was? Despite his name matching his ID, the lanyard he wore stating he was a principal at a nearby school, and the name on the school registry as being one of my parents? Despite me being called into the office to peek through the blinds at him and verifying that yes, this was my father?

Where was my father’s male privilege as neighbors who protested living near a black man repeatedly called the police on him as he pulled into the driveway of the house he’s lived in since I was born, let himself in with his own key, with ID to match the address and having known these neighbors by first name? To the point my white-passing mother had to diffuse the situation?

My father is straight and cis. My father is black and disabled. My father is a survivor. My father is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about him, but he is not trash. He has not skated through life as though it’s easy. His life was significantly harder than my mother’s, and her life wasn’t easy either. He has been hurt by men. He has been hurt by women. Some of the instances he has been hurt, my mother was directly sheltered from because she is a woman.

Her father was also an angry drunk, but deliberately did not take his anger out on his daughters, preferring to beat his son bloody instead. Mom has the trauma of watching her father beat the piss out of her brother and having to patch him back up after, but never of having been beaten herself.

Mom found herself in compromising and dangerous positions at times, but was protected from physical harm by her brother and the other men around her who saw it as their duty to protect the girls from that sort of thing. Literally the only good thing about rural purity culture.

Mom has a history of speaking out against racism and discrimination when she sees it, but has never needed to throw a punch in her life, because there was always a man around to protect her from the resulting fight. The men might not have agreed with her views on race but they were connected to her and thus duty/honor bound to protect her if someone tried to jump her because she wouldn’t let them beat up the black kid or told them to stop bothering the asian kid.

Mom never once had to stop and consider that it would be kinder to her partner to break things off.

Mom has never been falsely accused of assault because it’s just assumed that women don’t do that.

Mom has never been accused of trying to kidnap us because it’s believable that a white woman has mixed race kids that are darker than her but inconceivable that a black man has mixed race kids that are lighter than him.

Mom has never had the police called on her for entering her own house in their very white neighborhood.

Mom has only been pulled over once in her life, and the cop was far more interested in what my sisters and I were doing in her car than anything she might have potentially done.

My mother is straight and cis. She is also a white-passing POC and disabled. My mother is a survivor. My mother is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about her, but even she admits that her life was easier than my dad’s.

Cis, straight men suffer. White men suffer. My uncle is also a white-passing POC and a survivor. Do you know how much pent up anger he has? Still has, even though my grandfather changed and got better and apologized and owned up to his wrongs? Even though my grandfather’s been dead for years now? My uncle is sullen and prefers a bottle to take away his pain, pain he’s not been able to process, not been allowed to process, and he’s been that way since he was a child, which is not surprising considering what I’ve been directly told the beatings entailed... and things are always worse than what you’re told when it comes to that.

And all of that anger and resentment and rage and pain builds and builds until one of his sisters pokes him a little too hard about it and then he roars at them and storms off and he knows it’s wrong to take it out on them and he knows it’s not fair and that they only mean well but it hurts and he knows no other outlet besides lashing out because that was the only thing he was ever taught. Men get drunk and then get angry and then get violent. So he stops himself at yelling because he knows he can’t hit in anger, and he leaves and bangs doors behind him and stomps off until he calms down.

And you can say “dude needs therapy” and you know... you’re not wrong. But why would he ever seek it? When he sought help as a child he was told to be a man and suck it up and harden and grow some balls. His mother didn’t intervene to help him. You know, I know, he knows it’s because she was afraid her husband would turn on her. But it still hurts to know your own mother let your own father do that to you. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again. The most help he ever got was some first aid from his sisters when my grandfather decided he was done being angry. His teachers just knew him as an angry, sullen boy who frequently got into fistfights with other angry, sullen boys and chalked new bruises up to that. 

If you grow up like this, betrayed by everyone who is supposed to help you, then why would you ever consider seeking outside help as an adult?

And if your reaction is- see? He is a violent man! He is part of the problem! He could seek help and won’t because he is a stubborn man that wants to make his problems into women’s problems by relying on his sisters!

Then you fail to understand that my uncle is the way he is because of unprocessed, repeated trauma and betrayal that he was actively discouraged from seeking help to free himself of the cycle and start to heal. And his sisters were the only people in his life that did not harm him in that way, so at this point his sisters and his wife are the only people he trusts when triggers get poked and the pot boils over.

He does need therapy. He’s not likely to ever seek it out. And it’s because he was born a boy that this happened to him, and it’s because he was born a boy that no one was willing to help when he needed it most.

These men are not part of the queer community. They still were made vulnerable, and needed help, and did not get any, because of that same logic that drives these feelings about men not needing to be helped or included or assisted today. It’s not progressive just because the logic is coming from the queer community this time instead of conservative christians.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 12 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

A/N: Now let's start with Avengers! Getting closer to seeing Peter, lol.

I know, I know...

Words: 1,593

Masterlist:

Post-credits scene II  / Chapter 13

“Good to go on this end. The rest is up to you,” says Tony from the other end of the call.

"You diconnected the transmission lines?" Pepper asks. "Are we off the grid?"

"Stark Tower is about to become a beacon of self-sustaining clean energy.”

"Well, assuming the arc reactor takes over and it actually works,” She continues

"I assume,” answers Tony. "Light her up.”

The huge sign forms a Stark when the lights come on.

"How does it look?"

"Like Christmas, but more... me.”

“Us!" says Lily after listening to the boring conversation between the two adults.

“We’ve got to go wider on the public awareness campaign. You need to do some press. I'm in DC tomorrow, I'm working on the zoning for the next three buildings,” says Pepper.

"That sounds so boring,” Lily complains walking to the couch, leaving her legs swinging on the armrest.

“I agree with the girl. Pepper, you're killing me. The moment, remember? Enjoy the moment.”

"Get in here and I will,” replies the redhead with a smile.

“Ew," adds Lily.

Since Tony and Pepper are finally together, they can't help but be more affectionate than normal, unfortunately the girl always has to interrupt them. She already has enough trauma.

When Tony reaches the tower, he walks on a platform where several robotic hands are responsible for removing the Iron Man suit.

The redhead continues to see the levels projected in the holograms. She leans back on the desk, waiting for Tony.

"Levels are holding steady… I think.”

Tony comes to her side, they talk, and then discuss the percentage of the great success of the reactor. All while Lily continues to get bored on the couch. The adults sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by the armchairs, along with two glasses of champagne.

Blah, blah, blah, elevator, blah, blah, blah, money, blah, blah, percentage.

Lily sighs exaggeratedly to get their attention. They both stop talking and Tony watches her.

"Oh sorry, are we bothering you?"

Pepper purses her lips to keep from laughing.

"Actually yes,” the girl sits up. “I'm supposed to be able to do more things, go out more often.”

"And you did it.”

"From the house to the tower does not count, Dad,” She answers. "It's the same as before, only in another prison…”

"Don't exaggerate,” answers Tony. She sighs and falls back onto the cushions. “I don't understand why you’re bored. We’ve just made a breakthrough for the company.”

“One, your company. Two, I did nothing, just watched percentages, values, holograms. Bored!"

"I thought you liked that," adds Pepper.

"I want to do something else.”

"Like what, Smarty?"

"What about an Iron Man suit for me?" She says turning her head towards them.

Tony laughs out loud.

"It wont happen.”

"I had to try it…”

"Sir, the telephone," Jarvis interrupts. "I'm afraid my protocols are being overridden.”

"Mr. Stark, we need to talk,” says a male voice. Tony takes the phone from him.

"That sounds interesting," says Lily.

“You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message,” He pretends to be an answering machine looking at the screen, making Lily and Pepper laugh.

"This is urgent.”

"Then leave it urgently.”

But the elevator doors open, revealing Agent Coulson.

"This just keeps getting better,” says Lily. It had been a long time since they had seen Phil.

"Don't get excited kid. Security breach,” Tony complains.

"Phil, come in!" says Pepper getting up.

Tony looks confused at his girlfriend and follows her to where the agent is.

"I can't stay," answers Phil. He looks towards the couch where Lily greets him. "Hi, Lily.”

"His first name is Agent,” says Tony a little annoyed, but then he fakes a smile.

"We need you to look this over as soon as possible,” says Phil offering him a device.

Pepper is in charge of exchanging the device for his champagne glass, until it reaches Tony's hand.

"Official consulting hours are between eight and five, every other Thursday—”

"This isn’t a consultation," replies Phil.

"Now what did we do?" Lily asks, rising from the couch.

"Is this about the Avengers?" Pepper asks, then adds quickly. "Which I know nothing about.”

Tony opens the device in such a way that he reveals only a touch screen, he gestures to Lily and they both walk to a desk in the back.

"The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought — And I did not qualify," He huffs.

"I did!”

Tony looks at her.

"Who told you that?"

“Nat," She smiles.

"I didn't know that either," continues Pepper.

"Apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others…”

“Bingo," says Lily.

"That I did know.”

"This isn’t about personality profile anymore,” replies Phil.

“Whatever," says Toy looking at the screen.

"What are we watching?" Lily asks, as her father obstructs her vision.

"Wait, Ms Potts, got a second?" The redhead obeys.

Tony enters some codes.

"You know, I thought we were having a family moment," He complains.

"I was having 12% of a moment.”

"Oh, not this again,” says Lily

The pair try to argue again, but Pepper changes the subject.

"What is all this?”

“This is… this.”

Lily walks to see each screen, where the profiles of some people are shown. Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Thor.

Pepper sighs. "I'm going to take the jet to DC tonight,” She says.

“Tomorrow," corrects Tony. They both talk, but Lily's attention is still in the files.

"Lily?" says the redhead and the girl turns. "I have to go."

Lily walks up to her and hugs her tightly.

"Be careful,” the little girl whispers when they part. Pepper nods, strokes her black hair and kisses her forehead. She then goes back to Phil.

"Wait, so who am I staying with?" asks the girl looking at her father. The three adults share a look. "Jess is in class, Happy’s busy and you’ll go,” She points to Pepper.

“Actually…” Coulson begins.

"I'll find a babysitter," Tony interrupts.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sir. For this we need both Starks.”

"What?" say Tony, Pepper and Lily at the same time.

"They need me? Me?" Lily asks in disbelief. She feels a tickling start in her hands, but this time she controls it and hides her hands behind her back.

"No, Phil, it's dangerous for a ten-year-old girl," says the Redhead.

"I thought she was on probation," adds Tony.

“Our base will be surrounded by qualified and knowledgeable agents to ensure Ms. Stark's protection. Besides, it’s only a search, in case the situation changes, she’ll be taken to Miss Potts immediately.”

Lily's gaze moves between the agent and her father repeatedly, waiting for an answer.

“What do you need her for? Specifically,” says Tony.

"Director Fury thinks two Starks are better than one,” He tries to joke. "His words, not mine, but everything’s explained in the files.”

"Is this really happening?" Lily asks to no one in particular. “Someone finally heard my complaints!”

“Hey, calm your sugar. I won't let you go alone like this,” Tony warns.

"So, can I go?”

Tony groans. He senses Pepper's confused look, but he ignores it. Even he doesn't know if this is a good idea, but the fact that the super agents need his daughter makes him curious, and he has a feeling that if he doesn't accept, they’ll try to get it some other way and that's worse.

The redhead sighs in defeat, waiting for Tony to have everything under control. Although that’s not common in him. She now must worry about both of them, but at least has the assurance that Phil will be around. She just hopes she doesn't regret it later.

"Please, stay safe,” She finally says to them, then he returns to Phil and the two leave the Stark tower.

Lily watches them until she's alone with her father. She turns to meet the man holding a hologram of a blue cube.

"What's that?"

"We'll find out soon,” He returns the hologram to the screen and looks down at her. "I'll prepare coffee and chocolate, you and I will find ourselves reading and talking about the new rules of the game."

"New Rules? I'm not six years old anymore, dad.”

He sighs and makes a face.

"These rules are not in case you break something, Lily,” He looks directly into her eyes. “You heard Coulson. We’ll be surrounded by agents, spies trained to do whatever they are ordered to do. And at some point that order can harm us.”

"But Mr. Fury-"

“I know we have given them permission for certain things like your training, but it was all happening under my watch and Jarvis's. This time we’ll have to go to them, and that’s a problem.”

She frowns, analyzing that information.

“But Nat and Phil… They wouldn't do something like that.”

"I don't know, Kid. We can’t take anything for granted.”

"It's not easy and anyone can fool you, Lils." She remembers Nat's words during her training. In the end she nods towards her father.

"So what do I have to do?"

“Pretend that everything’s fine, but you have to stay alert and try not to get too far away from me. I don’t know the real reason why they want you in this, but you should not believe everything they tell you.”

"This will be more complicated than I thought," She adds with a grimace.

"Don't worry,” He offers his hand. "You and I are smarter than they are.” Lily holds his hand.

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs @heavenlymistakes @my-love-of-books @dielgonacoffee  @thelastpyle​

[belphegor1982]

not sure if you're doing the prompt list, but parenthood (6) with leonard snart and janet? 👉👈 i'm in love with your characterizations of len and his wife 💕

It took me two weeks, but there it is :D

Parenthood (DCAU)

When she’d been a kid, Janet had – very naturally – assumed that her adult life would match her parents’, or their neighbours: a house, a husband, a dog, a white picket fence, not necessarily in that order. And kids. Like an afterthought, something not really important so much as vaguely necessary.

She hadn’t thought about it until a couple of years or so into her and Len’s marriage. They’d had somewhat rocky beginnings: she’d been fierce, he’d been grumpy, and they’d both been so damn young they hadn’t seen how ridiculous they were, dancing around each other like they weren’t sure they were allowed this… that. ‘Relationship’ was too big a word. Whatever they had, though, they had kept, because it was good and it was theirs. One day it had hit Janet that Len basically only went back to his crappy little apartment to shower; one night they’d been in bed, sweaty and tired and stupid happy, and as Janet reached for the book on her bedside table afterwards while Len scribbled on his ‘heist ideas’ notebook like he’d been struck with sudden inspiration, she had realised in a rush that she wanted the rest of her life to be like this.

“Wanna get married, one of these days?” she’d asked, almost not nervous at all.

Len had stared at her long enough to make her start to regret asking. Then he’d given a small smile, the very rare sort that showed in his eyes.

“Sure,” he’d said, and that was that.

They’d gotten married six months later. Janet wore blue. Her parents showed up, despite the disapproval hanging thick in the air – her father convinced that she could ‘do a lot better than a thug’, her mother ice-cold at the thought of her daughter marrying ‘some two-bit crook’. Len had only invited his sister, a stunning young blonde who’d been friendly to Janet but still appeared put-out that the invitation didn’t extend to her boyfriend.

“He’s a jerk,” Len had said later, making Janet laugh.

“You’re a jerk, Len.”

“Not the same kind. He’s stuck-up. Lisa’s too good for him anyway.”

“Yeah, well. That’s not up to you to decide, is it? It’s your sister’s choice.”

“I know, I just… She deserves better. Better than she got as a kid.”

Janet had looked at him, long and careful, suddenly a little tense.

“Do you think she’s… not safe? With him?”

Len had blinked, then shaken his head.

“Nah, nothin’ like that. You can tell Dillon’s actually good to her. Nothing like…” He had trailed off, something hard and cold and sudden in his eyes like someone had slammed closed a pair of shutters. That had only lasted for ten seconds before he’d shrugged. “I just wish he wasn’t such a dick, that’s all.”

Then he’d abruptly changed the subject, and Janet had followed, because she knew precarious ground when she saw it.

* * * *

Living with someone in the intimate way meant noticing a lot of things about them, more or less willingly.

Len had cottoned on pretty early to her tendency to snap when she was tired or angry, and of holding nothing back then. She also caught him looking at the crisscross pattern of scar tissue on her knuckles from when she’d punched a wall, repeatedly, after the girl who’d been her best friend in school was battered to death by her boyfriend. “I only slapped her around a bit,” the bastard had said, and ten years later Janet still wished that she’d had the guts to punch him instead. She’d finally told Len about it one day, and seen his face go stone and his eyes ice. His cold fury had been comforting.

It went both ways. She noticed things about her husband, too. Like some odd scars she had a feeling he hadn’t picked up in juvie, the trace of a cigarette burn in the hollow of his right shoulder, or the mark – still chillingly precise even years later – of a belt buckle in the small of his back. She wondered whether Lisa had similar scars. Not that she’d ask. She and her sister-in-law didn’t have that kind of relationship.

Janet had a past. Len had a past. That was what being human meant. Sometimes that felt more like dragging a corpse through the dust wherever you went than a happy set of picture-perfect memories, but it was part of the whole package.

The major reason Janet didn’t entertain the idea of kids for longer than a passing thought was because she didn’t want any – for the moment, she told herself, even as she kept forgetting to really think about it. She’s grown up with the distinct impression that she hadn’t been wanted, or had come at an inconvenient time to her parents. The last thing she wanted was to make a kid feel like that.

The lesser reason was everything Len wasn’t saying. He wasn’t crazy about opening up about things either important or trivial, though he did anyway because they both liked to get their point across clearly. But she’d never, ever heard him say anything at all about his life before he’d struck out on his own, a couple of years short of eighteen years old. His sister Lisa was six years younger, and that was all Janet knew. Family, parents, home life – Len didn’t let anything slip. This, combined with the scars and a few odd reactions, carefully hidden under a lot of attitude, told her more than he appeared willing to share.

One day, when he’d been nicely mellowed out by a good score and a shared bottle of the good stuff to celebrate, she had asked him, “Do you ever think about having kids?”

The split-second look he’d given her still haunted her to this day. She had seen him angry, she had seen him silent, cheerful and surly and balking at house chores, but it hadn’t crossed her mind that he could ever be afraid.

“No,” he’d answered curtly. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Kevin from logistics just had his third the other day. Kept asking me when I’d finally get started on my own.”

“Kevin from logistics needs to mind his own damn business.”

“That’s what I told him,” said Janet, and Len smirked. “Anyway, he got me thinking. Turns out I don’t think I want kids. You know, at all.”

The relief on his face was as fleeting as the fear, but just as stark.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like what we have.” A pause. “You’ve really never thought about having kids one day?”

“Sure I did, once – for about five seconds. Weirdest five seconds of my life.”

She’d given him a look, half amused, half a smile. Relax, Len. You’re not getting interrogated.

“That bad?”

“Look, I don’t… Kids are weird, all right? Adults I can deal with. Besides, all I know is how not to be a father. No way I’m risking—no way.”

That was as close as he ever came to telling her why she’d never even heard Snart Sr.’s first name. But it was enough. They closed the subject and moved on to other things.

* * * *

And then it turned out that Metropolis and Gotham were not the only cities that could boast an actual superhero, because Central City quickly became aware of a lean, young-looking man in a red costume who called himself the Flash and went after burglars and thieves with superhuman speed. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he added an element of danger to her husband’s chosen profession, and Janet took an instant dislike to him and his big smug smile. Then she dismissed him from her mind quickly enough.

Len, though, was a very different story.

While he didn’t like the Flash any more than Janet did, the guy’s addition to the tried-and-true equation of cops and robbers added an edge that hadn’t been present before. Having an actual superhero in town made all of Len’s old research on absolute zero – and tinkering in the basement – not only relevant but useful. He designed a ‘cold gun’ from plans he’d stolen years ago, looking more excited than Janet had seen him in the last eight years, and worked hard to ‘up his game’.

Privately, Janet thought that, for a man who claimed to be as serious about his trade as Len did, creating a brand-new persona complete with parka, visor, and goofy moniker was hilarious.

Not that she ever actually laughed at him. Especially not the one time Len came back from a heist with an armful of cash and a weird look on his face.

“He’s a kid, Jan,” he said when Janet had asked him what could be wrong when he’d clearly got away with the loot unscathed. “He’s a goddamn kid. I don’t think he’s even old enough to drink.”

“What the hell is he playing at, then?” she exclaimed. “This job is not kid’s stuff! What was he thinking, that he could waltz in and play Superman, just like that?”

“I don’t know.” Len took off his visor and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then his eyes hardened. “And I don’t care. I like my job. If this guy thinks he can stop me, then he’d better be prepared to try harder.”

“I got him good today, though,” he said hours later, in the small hours of the night, after Janet’s hands had searched for his, cool and calloused, under the covers.

Something tensed inside in the region of her stomach.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, looking annoyed that she’d even ask. Janet’s guts relaxed. “I’m a crook, not a murderer. Besides, you know the second someone offs that guy, Superman or another big hero is gonna show up and turn the city inside out in revenge. It’d be like when a cop gets killed. They close ranks and start shooting indiscriminately.”

“So when you say you ‘got him good’ –”

“I just sent him packin’. Didn’t rough him up more than I would a cop. The kid’s got a mean right hook but he has no idea how real cold works, speed or no speed.”

Janet closed her eyes again and murmured, “Maybe he’ll quit, then.”

“Maybe.” Even half-asleep, she could tell that this ‘maybe’ meant ‘fat chance’.

“So… on the off-chance that today didn’t put him off, what are you gonna do?”

“I was thinking I might hit Drake & Hall Savings on Infantino Street next month.”

“I meant about the Flash.”

Len’s voice was low but certain when he said, “Me too. I’ll just keep doing my job, and if this joker is as serious as he claims to be, he’ll keep trying to stop me. But I’m not gonna drop everything just because of a kid in a onesie and a mask. I’ll just have to find ways to slow him down.”

The last thought that coalesced in Janet’s mind just before she nodded off was Did my husband just become a supervillain?

She fell asleep before the laugh passed her lips.

* * * *

While ‘supervillain’ might have been stretching things – not to mention the word made Janet choke up on laughter – Len’s new approach to the job was certainly different from the one he’d had before the Flash came along. He still refused the label, though, arguing that supervillains had powers, costumes, and delusions of grandeur, while he just had a cold gun, a parka, and banks to rob.

“Okay,” said Janet when she was in a ribbing mood, “what’s the Joker’s power, then?”

This usually earned her a deadpan look.

At least Len didn’t remain the only crook with a gimmick and an eccentric costume for long. Soon her husband had colleagues, fellow not-supervillains, some of whom not only willing to work together but also seemed to actually appreciate it. Their ‘powers’ were not innate, nor did they get them in freaky accidents; like Len, they either stole tech or were savvy enough to design it. And they all rejected the label of ‘supervillain’.

They were ‘rogues’. Or rather, Rogues. And Len – who knows why – took the place of the de facto leader.

Of her husband’s coworkers, Janet got on with Mick Rory the best. She liked his even temper, his slight smile, and the fact that he generally found it easy to keep a level head. Digger Harkness was his exact opposite, and her whole life she could never quite shake off the urge to slap him whenever he opened his mouth. The others were scattered along the scale between those two extremes: some were never quite sure what to do with her (or she with them – apart from making sure the old couch in the basement could be slept on and keeping an eye on their quickly-dwindling stock of coffee and beer packs), while others were more accommodating about having to spend time with ‘Len’s missus’.

One day Janet caught James pilfering one of the cookies she’d baked herself for the next night she’d have to spend alone. He looked so terrified at being caught red-handed that she refrained from rolling her eyes and told him to help himself and share with his musician friend.

She drew the line at pointing out Hartley was too skinny, though. Just because the young man was friendly and polite and, indeed, looked rather underfed didn’t mean she had any right to turn into her Aunt Debbie. She’d rather die first. Besides, she wasn’t the kid’s nanny, was she?

Nevertheless, the cookies proved a success. Like the couch in the basement, like the stocking up on beer packs, like the occasional patching-up of scrapes not serious enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, they surreptitiously became a habit.

* * * *

Over the years, Janet Snart slid smoothly into middle-age never regretting once her decision not to have children. Turned out being a woman, a wife, a friend, and a sometimes kind-of-support to a bunch of Rogues was quite enough.

Parenthood was overrated, anyway.

______________

Hope you liked, @orion-nottson 💜

Timeline notes thingy: Janet and Len met when they were about 25-27 and got married a couple of years later. ‘Dillon’ is of course Roscoe Dillon, the Top, who has a blink-and-you-miss-it cameo in the JLU episode with the Rogues, but since I don’t want to kill him or Lisa, I’m thinking he was her ice skating trainer, they fell in love, and didn’t go into villainy.

Wally was the first Flash of this universe - maybe the second and Jay was a superhero in the 1940s? - since he says “my uncle’s flying in” for the ceremony. Also, when he first pops up in this story he’s not quite 16, while Len is a bit over 30.

...I really overthink these things, huh 😅