#sorry this got long. i hope my answer is somewhat comprehensive sorry if i went off topic!!

[bishonenspit]

you like two gay gag manga, soooo Do you hate the fans sometimes?

I’ve been wanting to read One Room TA which is a gag bl webtoon, it looks super fun and I like when parodies are made by people who actually like what they are parodying (though idk if the author likes bl, I dont use twitter and thats their only social). So I went to bakaupdates to search for info and shit and saw the “realistic homosexual relationship” tag and I just don’t want to read it anymore.

don't misunderstand please i'm a lesbo, but Something that I have seen lately is that series such as Patalliro and Eroica (or gags manga that make fun of bl tropes) as they have become more popular, the idea around them have shifted from This is Yaoi to These works are truly queer compared to BL or how better they are in depicting queerness/homosexuality compared to BL made by women, etc.  At least I have seen people talking about Patalliro like this, with Eroica not yet. 

6 years ago Patalliro was undoubtedly seen as yaoi but now it is queer and not yaoi << this being a compliment

Honestly, this always happens, Gakuen Heaven is a good example. But it really turn me off because you know the type of praise these manga get. “Finally, a BL author who also believes that yaoi is dumb as fuck". Especially because One Room TA has a chapter where they make fun of crazy and unrealistic sex in bl

I used to be the type to don’t care or even agree but I grew out of my “I am a bl fan who hates bl” phase long time ago so now these comment irationaly irritate me and like, have this happened to you? can u give me some advice sis? 

Honestly, what bothers me more is to think that the author also sees bl and the readers as stupid, so they wanted to create something to make fun of them.

Hmm, honestly I've never seen the type you're referring to in reference to Patalliro (or Eroica but it's barely BL infused to begin with lol) but with Patalliro in particular I think the issue is like kind of complicated in a specific way. To me the comedy/gag manga elements and the BL elements in Patalliro exist in tandem in a way that is almost entirely separate in terms of tone. The high drama and soap opera-esque moments are most commonly the most queer, it's one of the few BL flavoured gag manga that doesn't use its queerness as a recurring punchline simply because it exists so naturally within the series, in that way that is slightly separate from the ridiculousness when it wants to be. Though it isn't immune to the typical misogynistic take of "this is better than BL made by women", when talking about it to people who know nothing about it (and are decidedly not fujoshi) I've been met with the reaction of essentially "oh cool we love to see that" when I discuss Maya Mineo being a man, which has pretty clear undertones of "oh it's not a BL written by a stupid woman, now I'm more willing to bridge that gap." Also, in recent years the falsified differentiation between what is "yaoi" and what is "BL" also leads to this mindset. Like, "oh, you read Yaoi? That's just Fetishizing Pornography, whereas my superior BL is Sexless and Unproblematic and Wholesome." That type of thing got popular online before the masses got hold of phrases like "yaoi". In general I think with the surge of "mainstream" (and take that use of the word with a grain of salt, it's mainstream in the sense of very online fandom spaces that does not extend to "real normies" lol) yaoi jokes a lot of people approach BL as a genre now with this sort of irony poisoned lens, which is probably what you're witnessing. Rather than being specifically targeted to the less serious gag manga, I think it's just a symptom of an irony poisoned internet as a whole if that makes sense? People view BL as a whole like it's still series at the quality and plot content of things like Gravitation or Super Lovers or any of the sillier early 2000s-2010s stuff that was memed to death back in the day, and then when are presented with a series that DOESN'T read that vibe to them, they're pushed to specify it "isn't like other BL". Which is a foreign and strange thing to say for people who actually read BL beyond what was popular in 2010, but is relatable to the individuals online who are still sort of in their "BL is cringe and fujos are weird" way of thinking. They feel more comfortable reading it and interacting with it with a layer of safety around their person in the form of irony. I've expressed frustration with this kind of fan before, so I feel you, but unfortunately it's soooo common to hide your real likes and dislikes behind a thick layer of irony nowadays online so not much can be done. In terms of advice, I'm not really sure besides saying honestly ignoring the masses is the best thing you can do, especially when enjoying something that is so cemented in annoying pointless discourse. Any actual fighting falls on deaf ears at this point, the average antifujo is a "left leaning" American and they never take well to being told they're being misogynistic and racist. Americans love to be those two things more than anything. And if there were authors creating manga or webcomics with the intention of mocking fujoshi, they're also misogynistic homophobes who aren't worth giving the time of day. BL is sort of caught in the midst of a painfully unfunny internet micro trend which is just sort of worsening the general fandom public's view and knowledge of the genre and the labels within it. Most we can do is correct where possible and ignore everywhere else because let's be real, the people making those posts will move onto something else in a month or come to their senses eventually. 🤷‍♂️ The people who are BL fans who hate BL do, in fact, dislike BL for a lot of reasons and hopefully they either unlearn shame or clue in soon and remove themselves.

[tiaragqueen]

What I Want To Hear

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Villain! Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,1k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness, murder, death

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Baby, you understand me now if sometimes you see that I'm mad. Don't you know no one alive can always be an angel? When everything goes wrong, you see some bad.” - Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood [Nina Simone]

You knew there was something wrong with you when you felt nothing over your friend’s death. No, perhaps nothing was too strong of a word. You definitely felt sad, but it was too far down, too familiar, and too frequent until you could only gaze emptily at her photo on the TV. The reporter relayed the news of her suicide – at least, that was what the police concluded based on how she ‘willingly’ jumped over the bridge and fell to the gushing river – with professional coldness.

But you knew better than to trust their judgment because it wasn’t true at all. She was brainwashed to plunge into her demise, and who else in this country that possessed brainwashing quirk if not the infamous Shinsou Hitoshi?

Funny how the police didn’t even think about suspecting him or even got suspicious with his sudden absence. Then again, it was proof of how sly he could be when he wasn’t trying to attract attention.

And it was funny, in a somewhat ironic way, that he was doing this just to grab your attention.

Your phone buzzed beside you, the number that had been haunting you like the monster under your bed lit up the display. What a coincidence; just as you were pinning all the recent ‘suicides’ to him, the said man decided to call you. You contemplated the possibility of him being a secret psychic but decided that it was too farfetched and too frightening. Merely imagining the crimes he would’ve committed beyond people's comprehension sent a chill down your spine, one that you hadn’t felt ever since you rejected him and cut off any contact.

One hand hovering over the quivering device, you pondered if it was worth accepting the call. You could almost hear his deep voice, mocking the futility of your predicament and luring you into his grasp. And honestly, after everything you’d watched these past few days, you thought you deserved at least a little bit of a rest.

But, of course, Shinsou was relentless. He would stop at nothing to get whatever he wanted, even if it meant causing a few casualties along the way. The end always justified the means, after all.

“Are you watching the news right now?” Your correct assumption and his fake questioning tone brought you no relief whatsoever, only accelerating your thumping heart. You didn’t respond, but he must’ve known that you were indeed watching because he soon continued. “What do you think?”

“… I think you’re sick.” you finally replied after seconds of recollection and controlling your voice. You didn’t want to give him another display of weakness, not after you called him on one restless midnight and berated him for his blatant disregard of human lives.

“That again?” Shinsou sneered, and you wondered how good it’d feel to strangle him. Your hands twitched, itching to wrap them around his slender neck. Though, knowing him, he probably thought you were being kinky instead. You shuddered when the image of his sultry smirk flashed on your mind. “Oh, dear. You should be more creative with your insults if you want me to stop.”

“But you’re not going to stop, are you?” You didn’t know why you were him asking that. It was rhetorical, anyway, and the answer was simply too obvious. “Not until I have nobody else with me.”

“There!” he suddenly exclaimed as if he’d been waiting for you to say that. “I was beginning to think that maybe you were really dense, after all, especially after your bold action at that time.” He chuckled, the mockery as clear as the sight of your friend’s body being carried on a stretcher.

You gritted your teeth, aware of what he was referring to. “You’re not my parents! You have no right to tell me what to do!” you screamed to the line, ignoring the logical part of your brain that begged you to not fall victim into his provocation.

And you wished you would’ve listened before you let anger clouded your judgment.

“Ah, you’re right.” Shinsou sighed, and you sensed danger crashed on to your shoulders like a meteor. “How could I forget about them? I’m such a forgetful person…” Another tired sigh drifted into your keen ears as though weary of his own self. “Thanks for reminding me, [Name]. I’ll be sure to visit them later.”

Your throat felt constricted, and it took all of your strength to utter a single word; a word that halted the time and bestowed upon you a fragile hope. “Wait.”

Shinsou was quiet, but you knew he was listening. He was always listening, whether you wanted it or not. That was what initially attracted you to him; how he hung on to every word you spouted despite his apathetic face. When other people would’ve been bored and moved on to a more interesting subject, he urged you to continue instead. The amount of attention you got from him – how intense his lidded eyes against your sparkling ones – was flattering, and you hoped he was the one for you.

However, being a naïve young woman you were, you’d made a mistake of believing every single lie that left his enticing lips. You’d made a mistake of believing that he could be your one and only boyfriend, probably even soulmate because everything looked so easy in movies. How quickly the girl got the boy after a single conversation. How love seemed to fix and justify everything even the most questionable acts. How the misunderstood boy immediately became attached to the girl because she showed him kindness that he never got to experience in his life, or hadn’t received in such a long time.

It looked so easy, you forgot that reality was much different than movies. It was more real, more painful, and more severe.

“Yes…? Do you want to say something, [Name]?” he inquired once a moment had passed since you spoke. Opening your mouth, you whispered.

“… I’m sorry.”

The line went mute, and for a split second, you feared he might’ve hung up. However, a pungent – and slightly relieved, if you discerned deeper – chuckle diminished any doubt and anxiety that bubbled on your chest.

“Now that’s what I want to hear.”

Definite silence greeted you this time, and you slowly lowered your phone. Looking at the clock that ticked off the last hour of your finite freedom, the tears you’d been holding in fear of vulnerability finally trickled down your cheeks.

You kept weeping and weeping until the tears had long run out and you were left curling pathetically on the floor. Even when the front door opened and you perceived a hand stroking your back in a mock attempt of consolation, you refused to look up.

Regardless, it didn’t hinder him from greeting you as though you’d been anticipating his arrival.

“Hello, [Name].”

[ethereousdelirious]

I finally wrote something!!!! It's just a little bite-sized (1k) snzfic about some OCs. I am currently working on a book that I'm hoping to publish, so I have changed the names in the interest of not screwing over my future self 😅 The premise is around reincarnation, so it flashes back and forth between past (1700s West Coast USA) and present. I hope that's not confusing!

It was never a good sign when Professor Lehman asked everyone to drag their desks into a circle. Gabriel hefted his backpack into his chair and dragged his desk into place, shoulders tense with anticipation for what was about to come.

He ended up sat down next to a girl he only vaguely recognized. He thought her name might be Brandy, or Briana, something like that. She had a flower bouquet on her desk, small golden flowers interspersed with white roses and baby's breath.

She caught him staring and smiled. "Aren't they pretty? The Agricultural Club is selling bouquets down by the library."

"Oh," said Gabriel, making a conscious effort to not flinch back in surprise. He drew a hand through his tight curls, noting with some annoyance that he needed a haircut. The urge to sneeze snuck up on him and he barely registered it in time to turn his head away, let alone stifle it. "Hh'sch!"

--

"Bless you," Emilio said, looking up with mild concern painted across his features. The breeze blew his dark hair and made the hem of his habit dance around his ankles.

Matías opened his mouth to thank him and drew in a gasp instead. "Eh'chf!"

His horse let out a snort, obviously annoyed with the way Matías was jerking her lead.

"Are you alright?" Emilio asked, peering at him with wide brown eyes.

Matías sniffled and felt in his pockets for his handkerchief. "Yes, I'm f-- Hh'schf! Eh'tsch!"

"Go on?"

"Actually, I'm dying."Matías sniffled again to no avail and leaned into the side of his horse. His handkerchief, if he'd even brought one, was evidently stowed away in one of the saddlebags and he couldn’t be bothered to search for it. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "It's time for last rites; I'm done for."

"Go sit down," Emilio said with a fond smile. "I'll mind the horses."

"Keep an eye out for any priests, would you?" Matías handed the reins over and stepped a few paces away. He found a flat rock and sat down on it, admiring a nearby patch of golden blooms. Emilio had told him it was mustard and it marked the paths between missions.

The warm breeze made the flowers sway. Matías grit his teeth, feeling the familiar tickle and ache in his sinuses. "Hh'ksh!"

--

"You gonna live, Gabriel?" Professor Lehman asked.

Gabriel sniffled and resisted the childish urge to wipe his nose on his sleeve. Unable to keep eye contact, he stared down at his hand, studying the way his dark skin contrasted the white plastic of the tabletop. "Sorry, it's just allergies. I'll have my roommate bring me some Claritin."

"Alright." Professor Lehman clapped his hands once. "You can go last, then." He turned to the girl sitting beside Gabriel. "Brinley, why don't you start us off? What conclusions did you draw from last night's reading?"

Brinley started to speak, and Gabriel pulled out his phone to shoot Inti a text.

Gabriel: Pls bring Claritin. Main building room 203. I'll buy u a coffee'

Inti: omw

Gabriel shoved his phone back in his pocket and tried to pay attention to the discussion.

It was difficult, when his head throbbed and his nose kept trying to drip. He was sniffling so often he was sure everyone around him could hear it and only just managing to stave off sneezing fits by shoving his finger under his nose. It worked, but the pressure buildup in his sinuses was so intense it made his teeth ache. His shoulders shook with the impending fit, and he nearly shot out of his chair the moment Inti texted that he had arrived.

But that was rude and would put more eyes on him, so Gabriel sat there with shaking hands and trembling breaths until the discussion hit a pause. Then he slipped out.

Inti was waiting a little ways down the hall, lounging in one of the alcoves. Gabriel swallowed and tried not to notice the stripe of golden skin that peeked out above Inti's waistband.

"Allergies?" Inti asked, sweeping his gaze down the length of Gabriel's body.

Gabriel shuddered. "N-no, I--" He tensed and the sarcastic quip died on his lips. "Hh'tschf!"

"Bless--"

"Eh'tch!"

"Bless--"

Gabriel took in half a breath and stopped short. "Oh, I think I'm done."

"You sure?" Inti tapped the tip of Gabriel's nose.

Gabriel flinched back and shook his head. "Yes." He wiped the tears off his face and sat down next to Inti with a groan. His head ached.

--

"We can take a longer rest, if you need," Emilio said.

Matías waved his hand in dismissal, already clambering to his feet. His head spun with the motion and he swayed into Emilio's shoulder. "No, no. Don't waste time on my account."

"It's not wasted time, especially if you're feeling unwell." Emilio caught Matías' chin in his hand and used the other to wipe the tears off Matías' cheeks.

Matías' face went warm. He wondered if Emlio could feel it against his palms. "I'm alright."

"You're sure?" Emilio asked, his dark eyes wide and searching. "Santa Barbara can do without me for a few more days."

Matías didn't even have time to screw up his face before the next sneeze sent him reeling forward. "Hh'kschf!" His forehead hit Emilio's chest with a muffled thump, his face nestled against the somewhat scratchy material of his habit. It was more contact than they'd ever shared and Matías almost relaxed into it before the dawning comprehension filled his mind with horror. He stepped backward, eyes downcast. "F-forgive me, Padré, I--"

"Forgive you for sneezing?" Emilio sounded as lighthearted as ever, so Matías chanced to look up. Sure enough, Emilio only looked bemused. He cocked his head like a puppy. "It's not a sin. Come, let's rest a while longer." He wrapped an arm around Matías and guided him to a shady spot beneath a pine tree.

--

"I have to get back to class," Gabriel said.

Inti took the hint and produced the white-topped Claritin bottle from his hoodie pocket. "You sure that's a good idea? You sound awful."

Gabriel dry-swallowed the pills with a wince. "It's group discussion day."

"Alright, alright. You'd better keep the bottle, then." Inti got to his feet and extended a hand to help Gabriel up. "You wanna wipe your nose on my sleeve?"

Gabriel chose (diplomatically, in his opinion) not to answer that. "I gotta go. See you."

"Do blow your nose, though. You really do sound half-dead."

"Will do. Thanks, Inti."

"No problem." Inti smiled brightly and swept his long hair back. "Remember, you owe me one."

"Sure." Gabriel turned to go back to class, a strange, warm feeling in his chest.

[writingforyourpleasure]

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Characters: GERARD WAY x Reader 

 Link to chapter four :   https://writingforyourpleasure.tumblr.com/post/616411340391759872/on-the-road-again

Warnings : None 

 Author’s note: Hello ! Hope you’re all doing okay during those strange times ? Sorry for not posting but I had my en-of-the-year exam, but it’s now done and , I only got a few homework to hand-over now and my second year in college’ll be done !Here you go thank you to keep reading .

5.      “ Pun-master “

  You woke up, feeling something or someone moving in front of you . You started to groan at the uncomfortable feeling not wanting to get up just yet.

“And what owe me the pleasure to be assisted by your presence tonight sir Way?” You said while looking for plates.

The mass finally moved away , listening to your complains .

You woke up what felt just five minutes later but probably was in reality hours after it. Your eyes fluttered slowly as if they were disconnected from your brain. A light shine from the outside was peeking through your tinted window as soon as you truly started to wake up , you realized that Gerard wasn’t here anymore.

“Right…” You breathed out to yourself. Honestly you didn’t want to wake up. You were scared , scared of overthinking this , and because of that you actually was overthinking it . Your brain wasn’t playing on your favor . You didn’t knew how you were gonna survive today. The worst was, you didn’t knew how to act with Gerard , what happened yesterday night wasn’t that big of a deal, really , but again ; you were overthinking it . You just wanted to act normal with him , and was prying your brain to not let you down once you’ll see him. You felt so stupid for having a crush on one of your coworker and friends. You got up and hoped for the best.

You got out of your nest , only to find that you were alone in the bus and that you already had arrived into the next parking’s venue . You went directly to the kitchenette and groaned realized that you guys were short on coffee. You finally resigned yourself and went for the shower.

You got out of the bus a dozen of minutes later to find the parking lot empty except for the security that was already keeping everything on check. You checked your phone to see that it was 3pm . You had enough time, to get yourself a coffee somewhere and not stressing about when to comeback since you didn’t had to repeat with Dex or anything. You put back in your , old black Green Day’s hoodie, pocket your phone . You’ve dressed yourself as unfashionable as it is socially allowed , your laziness was clearly reflecting itself through most of your actions today. You put your headphones on , listening to the last Fever 333’s album and searched on google maps for the nearest Starbucks, once again a reflect of your laziness you figured.

You arrived to the welcoming smell of dirty beans being ground and hot milk.

Once you got your order you looked around for a seat since the place was pretty full, luckily you got one in front of the glass and on both sides what appeared to be two couples . Great. You hope that you’ll be lucky and won’t have to witness the same amount of smooshing in both of them. The teenage one , on your right , were the ones all over each other, with the boy groping at every part accessible of his what-you-presumed-to-be his girlfriend. The one on your left were two men in suits holding each other hands while talking , you sat facing the widow and the other empty seat. You got out of your backpack your sketch book and a pencil starting to draw people passing by while music took you in other world. A tap on your shoulder took you of guard , you got off your headphones .

“Yes ?” you turned around your head to see who was trying to get your attention.

“Hey, is this seat taken ?” Dex was smiling down at you with a big smile.

You said nothing instead kicking the seat in front of you, back to the glass for them to seat.

“I feel like it’s been a while since we talked .” Dex said sitting and looking expectantly at you.

“What are you talking ‘bout we talked just yesterday.” You said not looking up from your sketch book.

“Don’t play dumb y/n , you know what I mean. Like just the two of us ?” Dex sighed , seeing that you decided to not play cooperative . This time you did look up to your friend with a blank expression . Watching their eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It’s true , lately you tried to somewhat distance yourself since you were trying to figure out what the hell was happening with Gerard and you knew that being close to Dex would not help one second . Your friend knew how to read you even when you tried to hide something as well as you could. You had thinked that if Dex was about to ask questions it would make it weird since you were all working together . If you fucked up at any moments , you’ll have nowhere to hide and sometimes it can be a great deal of pain . But apparently you didn’t succeed not to make it awkward since your friend was not so happy that you act a little colder than usual . You were already fucking cold to any strangers , so to be cold to them was shitty. You sighed and run a hand through your now greasy hair . You needed to take a shower quickly , maybe it could wait after the show .

“Hey earth to y/n, hellooo?”

“Huh yeah sorry I was gone for a few…”

“Yeah no shit .”

“Sorry… like for all of it it’s true I’ve been kinda avoiding you guys.”

“Meh it happens , I mean it’s okay we all got our own problems.”

Dex tried to stay warm inside of the Starbucks but you could sense that being against a cold ass window wasn’t helped them to get the warmth that provided the Starbucks.

“I’m so cold….” They whispered as they took a gulp from their drink.

“Well….then stand in a corner .” You replied taking a large gulp of your hot drink too.

“What-Why ?”

“Think..”

“No….. please tell me it’s not because of what I think dude.”

“Coz’ corners are 90 degrees.” You said with a smug smile.

“Ho god …. Ok you know what maybe it’s for the best to be socially distant haha. It is so bad please do not do that again?”

“You’re asking way to much to the pun master .”

“More like the master of fucking nothing y’mean .”

“What did you said peasant , I think I didn’t quite hear that ?”

“Ho nothing .” said your friend smiling like a fool.

“Y/N I’m still fucking cold !” Said your friend trying to warm themselves up by rubbing strongly their arms.

“And how is that my problem , my dear?”

“Someday I really am going to kill you , y’know?” Told Dex between their teeth, with a little grunt along the way.  

“Y/N , Can I borrow your scarf? I’m seriously freezing. ”

“Well I can’t turn into a heater for you now can I? So do you want me to set you on fire? Because, I mean it’s still an option? Like I have my lighter right here so….?” You joked while giving them your scarf.

They gave you a warning glance as if they believed you . Then on a very exasperate note they sighed and said :

“Why are you like this?”              

You both laughed at that getting some curious looks from other clients. Once both of calmed down you try to get serious talking about the elephant in the room .

“Hey , can I ask your advice on something?”

“Absolutely , but I only advise communication, homosexuality, or murder.” Answered your friend earning a smug know-it-all smile out of you.

You were about to start to get off of your chest the whole “Hey I think I may or may not like the lead singer of the band for which we’re working for.” They cut you off.

“WAIT!”

“Yeah ?”

“Are you absolutely positive this isn’t dangerous or something?” They looked very serious about this , which had the reflex to make you roll your eyes deep inside your skull.

“I’m 95% sure, but yeah, I’ve failed fourth grade math so…” You decided to answer her stupid question with a stupid answer.

“Ho okay then we’re good I failed second grade! So just before we start , how long will this take ? I got to pick up my dog at the salon. «You both laughed at that. «No but like seriously we’ll have to go back to the bus eventually . Maybe tell me along the way back?”

“Alright , alright” You both got up from your seats and finally got out of the Starbucks.

“So huh, you remember when we got the 1 week break , alright?”

“Right. “

“Well huh, me and Gerard started talking by text pretty often during this time.”

“Ho. Did you now ?” They said waving their eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“No not like that calm down, you demon fuck .”

“Always a pleasure to fill my responsibilities.”

“You weirdo….” You whispered under your breath.

“Ho do not act if you aren’t even weirder man ! “

“Anyway, I just , I don’t know . I think, I think I may like him y’know?”

“Well it’s pretty comprehensible , I mean he’s hot .”

“I’m not talking about this you twat!”

“Ho c’mon you can’t say he isn’t !”

“Haha ,He is , I ‘ve sight too I’d let you know. It’s just not the point here .”

“You do? Sorry it’s hard to tell when you dress yourself like that .

“You bitch!” You choked on your drink , coughing violently.

“I’m just kind of dreading to really assuming the whole ‘hey by the way I’m hitting on you’ I don’t want to make it weird during the tour , when we’re not even at the half of it. And I don’t wish for everyone to see that I am hitting on him. I’m not ready.” You explained to Dex , not really wanting to expose everything you and Gerard said or do , foremost because there’s not that much to say

“Maybe not hitting on him is a good call since if you do I’m pretty sure he’s gonna freak out hearing your lame puns.”

“May I recall to you that I’m the pun-master AND the master of pickup lines ?”

“You completely suck at pickup lines, bro.”

“No I don’t !”

“The last time you tried one of you’re pickup lines was on this poor cute girl in Louisiana when you said ‘Are you Google –“

“CUZ YOU’RE EVERYTHING I’M SEARCHING FOR !!!”

“Yeah no wonder it didn’t worked !”

“I’m a genius , you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“You wish . So why are you’re feeling attracted to the guy ?”

“Well you see my kink is when people actually care about my feelings and what I have to say. And Since I know him he seems to correspond to this criteria , so I find it pretty attractive and hot since it’s my main kink.”

“Yeah , too unrealistic. Settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

“Where you ever nice Dex ?”

“2012, worst year of my life.” You laughed at what your friend said . “No but more seriously y/n, just let it happen y’know? And when you have the feeling that both of you are having a moment then maybe hit on him but stay subtle y’know?”

“I just want him to take me out…”

“Like, on a date or with a sniper ?”

“He’ll have to surprise me .” You both laughed before changing the subject to the little surprise you’ve both had planned for Max, since he was spending all of his nights and days working on your band , you wanted to do something nice for him. You bought a cookbook a few weeks ago for him as a present for the occasion, he often baked pastries as a distressful way to exhale from work time. Even though the bus condition made it hard to cook anything big it already was a good start. And you bought some bottle of Irish hard cider, since he had said it was the best thing he ever tasted when you all took a vacation to Dex family house there. After getting back to the bus everything went pretty fast , but the talk with Dex about Gerard was still playing in your mind. Ames saw that you were lost in your thoughts most of the time and ask you several times if everything was okay, you tried to act like you didn’t knew what he was talking about and you all moved on with your day . Mikey, Frank , Gerard and Ray were already in your bus when you had come back from your coffee session, and they yelled at you for not texting them and taking them with you. You brushed it off saying that next time you would. Gerard had tried to share looks with you during the day but you were too much caught up into your head to notice.

The show this night was nice and almost too short even if you guys took a ten minutes on My chemical romance planning since you played a special song. Once you were backstage Ames and Billy started their routines taking everything off stage to let place for the boys. To go faster Max offered to help them. It gave you and Dex a chance to run to the bus to prepare your little plan. You took any cushions , pillow and anything fluffy you could find , when you were done the bunks were quite a mess but you didn’t want to think of it since you still had to prepare the hard cider and the cake you brought from the Mark & Spencer’s not having too much time to find anything else. By the time everything was served , you knew that My chem was done with their show too , so you decided to prepare them a part too , you made a point to serve a apple juice instead of the cider for Gerard , not wanting him to feel excluded or anything. Max had been held backstage by Billy and Ames who were your dearest allies as ever.

You installed yourself with every plates and drinks giggling between the two of you alone in the bus to stupid jokes.

A knock made itself hear through the bus and Billy appeared into the kitchenette area before being followed by Ames and Max , who where looking at you with huge smiles spread across their face and a snort from the three of them.

“What the fuck did you do with our beds ?” Asked Max between a laugh.

“Well we did a pillow fort !” Answered Dex.

“Isn’t that a little childish ? “

“Does it means you don’t want to join us ?” You asked Max.

A silence swept through the bus.

“…Move over .” Said Max entering your huge pillow fort and already going for the cake and drink.

“Wait there’s a party and you guys didn’t told us about?! “Said Frank entering your bus.

You handed a plate in his direction , earning a smile from him before he arrived by your side as well as everyone else too.

Frank was on your right while Gerard was on your right and all of you were in a cercle eating and joking about stupid stuff.

“Hey you look better than this morning it’s good to see.” Whispered at your side Gerard offering a sweet smile before readjusting a few locks behind his ear.

“Well It’s because in the end we migrate towards comfort , and I realized that I am most comfortable around you , all of you.” You said returning a bright smile to the man.The night went along before Frank spoke up .

“Guys how are you gonna clean this mess to sleep tonight ?” Painful groans made themselves heard from all of you.

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

It Started With A Skeleton

The final commission! @writingandsins asked for Arthur beginning to fall for an archaeologist!reader. I wrote it in a way to seem like a random encounter like in the game. Thank you for being patient with me and enjoy!

The bright sun beamed down in between the thick green leaves, brightening up spots of the forest floor. Smoothing out the rolled paper upon the rock in front of you. The familiar shape of New Hanover was the only thing you recognized as you tried to make heads or tail of this map. It seemed hastily drawn, ink spots scattered here and there. Were they marking specific locations, or was it just the carelessness of the maker?

You sighed in frustration, standing up straight to closer observe your surroundings. You’d just come from Annesburg, your pockets three dollars lighter for having to purchase the map from some smooth talker outside of the gunsmith. He’d mentioned an ancient burial site nearby, and offered to share the location. Excitement overtaking you, you’d quickly agreed and paid the man. After handing you the map and pointing you west, you mounted your horse and began to head out into the forest. An hour had passed, and with vague instructions and no knowledge of the pathways, you’d stopped to try and regain your bearings.

Though now, it seemed as if he was just making a fool of you.

You groaned, swearing out loud and stomping over to your horse, who stopped grazing to look at you with interest. “Sorry boy, gotta head back.”

“You alright, miss?” a voice called from behind you.

A jolt of surprise shot through you, quickly erasing the assumption of you being alone out here. You hadn’t heard anyone coming by. Turning around, a man on horseback appeared in your view. He was standing just a few yards away, stopped in the middle of the path. The sun caught the barrel of a rifle along his back, glinting brightly. Underneath the worn black hat, his face showed slight concern.

“I’m fine,” you answered, albeit somewhat warily. “Just a little lost is all.”

“Where are ya tryin’ to go?” he asked, his drawl strong unlike the folks from around here.

“I…” you hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to share this information, lest he decided to find it before you and plunder to his heart’s content. However, this forest proved larger and more complex than you expected, and you weren’t even sure how to find your way back to civilization. “Yes, actually! There’s supposedly an ancient burial around ‘round here somewhere. Some silver-tongued fool gave me this map for three dollars and told me to head out here. But I’m beginning to think he led me on a wild goose chase.”

The man approached closer, twitching his fingers toward you. You passed him the map, and he studied it for mere seconds before scoffing, passing it back to you. “Yeah, he fooled ya alright. Looks like he drew it in five minutes. Ain’t even worth a cent.”

“Perfect.” you sighed heavily.

“I might know the place you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” the man continued. “It’s a little ways north of here.”

Excitement immediately replaced the disappointment. “You know where it is?” you gasped. “Can you take me?”

He gave a small shrug. “Sure, ain’t got nothin’ else to do.”

Smiling widely, you turned back toward your horse and mounted quickly. He began to walk forward, and you slipped in behind him. He urged his horse into a slow lope and you did the same, moving at a good pace down the path.

“You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Mister,” you spoke out to him. “I would have been wandering this forest forever if you hadn’t come along.”

“I’m sure you woulda found it sooner or later,” he responded. “Why’re you lookin’ for it in the first place?”

“I’m an archaeologist, I study artifacts and sites from ancient civilizations,” you explained. “That burial site from what I hear is remnants of Viking inhabitants.”

“Vikings, huh?” he slowed to be in pace with you, your horses cantering side to side. “Out here?”

You nodded with enthusiasm. “May sound strange, but there’s tons of evidence that they came here hundreds years ago! I’ve found helmets and tools here and there, but this is the first lead I’ve gotten about a tomb.”

The man gave a soft hum. “Ya know, y’oughta be careful out here in these woods,” he said, gazing out into the distance. “Some of the folk out here ain’t too friendly. Snatch ya up if you ain’t careful.”

You gave him a strange look. “I hope you don’t mean yourself.”

He gave a humorless laugh in response. “Nah, I ain’t the type. The ones I’m talkin’ about, they’re called Murfrees. They ain’t right in the head, act more like feral animals than people. Not the smartest, but they’re sneaky.”

Your eyes widened. “And you’d know from experience?”

“’Course, had to fight ‘em off out here on more than one occasion. And I’d hate to see ‘em come up on some poor unsuspectin’ fools out here.”

A shiver coursed through your body, horrified to even think of such a thing to happen to you. Over the years you’d come across some questionable people, though always managed to get through the day unharmed. “Well, then I’m glad to have run into you, Mister…”

“Arthur Morgan.” He answered your unasked question.

---

The two of you chatted nonchalantly for the next ten minutes, although it had been mostly you speaking more about the Vikings, and other ancient artifacts you’d found. Arthur was mostly silent, only commenting every once in a while on your explorations.

Eventually he slowed his horse down to a walk. You had followed suit, your eyes in search for the prize.

“Here,” he motioned directly ahead, pointing to an in-ground structure that had a few open trenches branching out. “I believe that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”

Hastily you hopped off your horse, hurrying forward to get a better view. You halted at the foot of much worn stone steps, leading down into the center of the site. Even from here, you could spot the unmistakable alabaster color of old bones. You slowly stepped down into the trench, taking care of where you put your feet. Some of it was overgrown, roots had snaked their way through the cracks.

As you grew closer, it was apparent that there were more than one set of bones here. In the center of everything was a stone slab with a full skeleton lay across it, in remarkably good condition despite being exposed to hundreds of years’ worth of weather, elements, and possible animal tampering. Meanwhile others were placed around the base of the slab, femurs, detached torsos, skulls stacked neatly. You had to wonder why.

Objectively, it appeared to be a burial site for multiple people. However, there could be more to the story depending on what else lurked here. You dug into your satchel, producing a worn journal to record your findings. You could call yourself a decent artist, if rough sketches could be considered as such. Regardless, without a camera, it was the easiest way to keep track of your discoveries.

“Wonder who they were.” Arthur’s voice startled you, in your excitement you’d nearly forgotten about his presence.

You turned around to face him, he was standing just a few feet away. “From what I see here, it might have been a mass grave.” You answered.

He didn’t answer, although stepped forward to observe. He walked around the slab, studying the remains. He paused and bent down as if to retrieve something.

“Wait, don’t disturb anything!” you warned him.

He stood up straight, holding what looked like a hatchet in his hand. “Thought you’d like to look at this.” He held it out.

You blinked in surprise. How long had this sat here and went unnoticed by this area’s inhabitants? You reached out for it and grasped it carefully. It was surprisingly heavy and sturdy. “Amazing this is still in good condition,” you remarked. “And that nobody took it yet.”

“Guess it’s here for you to find.” Arthur noted with a small smile.

You smiled back at him. “Maybe so.” You put it down to sketch it out.

You took a few more minutes to explore this little find, discovering that it had five branching trenches shaped somewhat like a star. Some of them were closed off with a ceiling, natural and carved out from the earth. You made sure to sketch every angle, noting every piece of information that you could.

Meanwhile, Arthur stood just a few feet away. You were surprised he hadn’t left yet, perhaps he was keeping watch in case one of the Murfree people he mentioned might be lurking around somewhere. Either way, you were too drawn in to really notice the surroundings.

You even caught him staring at your journal as you drew, probably intrigued by it.

Some more time had passed and you finished your last sketch. You stood above the structure, marveling its ancient beauty. Satisfied with your recordings, you placed your journal back into your satchel. You were thankful you were able to find this place, even after being swindled and losing money for it.

Arthur’s footsteps alerted you, and you turned to smile at him as he sidled up next to you. “Y’ get everything?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” you expressed with delight. “This is the most comprehensive find I’ve had in a while! The others in New York won’t believe this!”

“New York?” he repeated with bewilderment. “And you came out here?”

“My work takes me many places, Arthur,” you said proudly. “Though my colleagues would rather have me serving them beer and biscuits. I work three times as hard as them, you know. No respect for the women in this field.”

He made a soft noise, shaking his head as if to agree with you. “Can’t say many men are smart, then.”

Your smile widened at his comment. “Arthur, thank you again for taking me here, and watching over me. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Ain’t nothin’,” he said nonchalantly, turning his gaze downward. It only occurred to you then he was fidgeting with something in his hands. As you opened your mouth to ask, he held it up. “By the way, I found this down there. Thought you should have it.”

It was a comb, off white in color and carved with an intricate design. It too was obviously of Viking origin, given the designs of the animals that wrapped around the handle, looping to form holes for holding. It was beautiful.

It left you breathless. “Arthur-” you began. “That’s …”

“I know, I shouldn’t have taken it,” he said with a slightly sheepish tone. “Jus’ seemed to be a shame to leave it down there, for no one to admire.”

You reached out and gingerly took it, holding it flat in your hand. It was an unorthodox gesture, especially from someone you’d just met earlier that day. “Well…thank you.”

A full smile appeared on his lips then, the first you’d seen today. “You’re welcome.”

---

It’d been three days since coming upon the burial site.

Since then, you’d left Annesburg to travel further west, arriving in a little town called Valentine. You settled into a hotel room, copying over your original notes onto paper, as well as refining your sketches to appear clean. You’d soon sent them into the mail, hoping your colleagues would take you more seriously.

You were also on a limited amount of time, having just a few more days before traveling back home.

You adventure didn’t stop there, however. Originally coming here to collect more leads on possible sites, which ended up to be drier than a summer well, you focused on other means. Mulling around this town has proved to be fruitful, as you’d took the time to acquire an odd job here and there to replenish the money you’d spent in the past few days.

The comb you had carefully bundled up into a rag and placed in a small pocket of your satchel, although you admittedly taken it out more than once to appreciate its beauty. You’d sketched it out with everything else, along with the man who gave it to you.

That one, you kept to yourself.

He’d crossed your mind more than once. He’d been the first to not give you an odd look when expressing your interests, or make an offhand comment on how you would make a better housewife. A man like that was certainly a rarity, and you hoped you’d cross paths once more before returning home.

Tonight, you decided to have some relaxation and wandered into the more popular saloon in town. It was expectedly busy; the smell of tobacco and alcohol nearly burned your nostrils as you found a place to sit off to the side.

Despite the rowdiness of the crowd, you were thankful to have gone unnoticed. You sat quietly, sipping a beer whilst observing the drunken tomfoolery that took place around you. People watching entertained you sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, the doors swung open to reveal another patron stepping in. Paying little attention to it, your vision wandering to a young harlot pulling a stumbling man up the stairs.

“Miss Y/N?”

You turned your head in surprise, knowing you did not give your name to anyone in here. This however wasn’t some stranger, instead you were looking into the blue eyes of Arthur Morgan.

“Arthur!” you greeted with slight confusion. It were as if the heavens above had heard your prior thoughts. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise,” he replied, pulling back an empty chair to sit at your table. “Ain’t you supposed to be out, lookin’ for more, eh, Viking burial grounds?”

You smiled at him. “Archaeology doesn’t take every facet of my life, you know. I like to take breaks too.”

He chuckled at your response. “Weren’t implyin’ that it was,” he shifted in his chair. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into ya.”

Cheeks burning, you took a swig of beer to hide your surprise. “You are? Why is that?”

“Just wonderin’ ‘bout what else you’ve found. I’d like to see, ‘less it’s private.” He responded.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. This had to be the first time that anyone was interested in your work, even your fellow colleagues. “You really want to see?” You asked, a tight feeling of disbelief looming in your stomach.

He nodded. “Ya seem so passionate ‘bout it, got me curious is all.”

You couldn’t help but to beam at him, your chest swelling with excitement. Thankfully, you had your journal with you. Digging it out of your satchel, you lay it across the table and flipped open to the first page, containing sketches of various Indian arrow heads you’d found in your home state. “This was just a little after the beginning of my career…” you began, dragging your fingers lightly across the sketch lines, recalling vividly your amazement when you’d unearthed them.

Time wore on and you’d gone through the pages, you’d noticed a slight glimmer in Arthur’s eyes as he studied your drawings. Every once in a while, you could have sworn he was staring at you, yet every time your eyes turned to meet his, he’d swiftly turn his gaze back down to the journal.

You’d eventually reached the most recent section, closing the journal back up as you know he’d already seen that. Placing it back into your bag, you gave Arthur a sweet smile. “What did you think?”

Arthur leaned back, a slight look of awe on his face when he looked at you. “You got quite the collection, Miss Y/N. I’ve been ‘round and ain’t seen half the stuff you have.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. “You just have to know where to look.”

“Guess so,” he groaned as he stretched out. “You stayin’ here?”

You nodded. “Just for the next few days. I’m hoping to find one more site before I get back to New York.”

“Well, I dunno ‘bout other places, ‘sides the one we just went to.” Arthur responded.

“That’s okay, Arthur,” you reached over to pat his arm. “Your help the other day was more than enough. Can’t expect you to escort me to another, if there is one around.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t mind.” he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You tucked your head down in hopes to hide the blush that flared on your cheeks. “Well, aren’t you generous, Mr. Morgan?” you said with a lighthearted tone. “Would you mind escorting me to the hotel, then?” you asked, peering back up to him.

Another shrug rolled his shoulders. “Sure.” He replied, his smile turning soft.

Gathering your belongings, you’d marched out of the saloon with Arthur behind you, leaving the drunken chatter behind to a quiet night. It was certainly late; the moon high in the sky and nearly no one outside. The lights from the adjacent buildings have long been extinguished. The distant chirping of crickets and a faint train whistle set a lovely ambience.

Even though the hotel was just down the way, Arthur kept by your side, walking to avoid treading through mud and horse manure. He was certainly a gentleman, uniquely apart from anyone else you’d met out here. It’d only taken a moment of walking before reaching the front steps of the hotel, the orange light flickering as a greeting.

Stepping onto the wooden steps, you turned to face Arthur once again. “Thank you, Arthur.”

He tilted his head in a small nod. “You’re welcome, Miss Y/N.”

As your gazes met, a pang of emotion hit you as you realized you barely even knew this man. He’d been so kind to you and interested in your work, yet he’d never shared a single mention of his personal life. He didn’t have to, given the circumstances in which you two met. However, you would be boarding a train back to New York in a few days’ time, and you highly doubt he’d come up that far.

Regardless, you still wanted to keep in contact.

Reaching for your journal once again, you tore out a page and hastily scribbled an address onto the paper. You held it out to him, noting his look of confusion. “Write to me, please,” you murmured to him. “If you find another site.” You quickly added.

Arthur took the paper slowly, holding it out to read it for a moment before folding it neatly and tucking it into his own satchel. “I’ll be sure to do so.” He responded, giving you the same smile as before.

[random-princess-drabbles]

I Need A Drink (Sherlock x Wife!Reader) - Just Two Sociopaths Series

Summary: Set a little after the first episode (1 x 1). Y/N comes back from a mission and hasn’t seen Sherlock in 4 months, John still hasn’t met you, and he was really surprised to met you...

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this series, please give the other one a look! Find it under the hashtag #2sociopaths 

I. Hate. Flying. Especially after a mission. A long mission at that. Having to leave the country for 4 months was bad enough, with no ways of communicating to the outside world, but sitting in a plane for 18 hours was the worse. How does Mycroft expect me to sit tight for that long, after months of action and mayhem?

I walked out of the airport gate, coat in hand and heels clinking on the tiles, ready to head to the new flat Sherlock had got. You both had been meaning to move out of your crowded flat months ago, but thankfully the mission made it easier for Sher to move out.

"Mrs. Holmes," a man said as I approached the door. Relieved of the prospect of not calling a cab, I nodded at him and followed him to the black Lincoln parked on the road. Sliding in the back of the car, I began getting anxious to see Sherlock. It had been too long without seeing him and I couldn't deny my excitement.

The car stopped in front of a small café, and the chauffer opened the door, leading me to a black door with the numbers 221 on it. The door was opened by an older woman wearing an apron, someone I hadn’t expected to see in years. “Mrs. Hudson?” I asked while the older lady jumped to hug me. “Oh! Y/N!” she ushered me in, pushing me towards the stairs that were in front of the door, “it’s been so long! Sherlock never told me you were going to be here!”

“That sounds like him.” I sighed while walking up the stairs, the chauffer still trailing behind me with my luggage. Since I was still being pulled by Mrs. Hudson, I couldn’t really pay attention to anything around me. Sherlock had probably taken up the older woman’s favor after they had ensured her husband’s execution. “This way, dearie,” she said pulling her past a kitchen, “this is Sherlock’s room.”

“You can leave the luggage out here, and you may go,” I called back to the young man, almost forgetting that he was there, “thank you Mrs. Hudson, I appreciate the hospitality.” She scoffed and hugged me again, claiming that she had to be thankful for what we had done years ago. “I’ll bring you a cuppa.” The older woman left the room, leaving me to stare around the room. Nothing had changed, Sherlock had posted his periodic table on the wall, my painting of a skull was placed on top of the dresser and other trinkets that we had collected over the years.

There was a rustle coming from the living room, causing my attention to shift. My slight excitement took over, and I ran out of the room, only to find myself face to face with another man. He was short and blonde, and clearly surprised of my presence. He was carrying grocery bags and clearly lived in the apartment. “Uh…” the man began, looking to the door, as if he were expecting someone to come in, “can I help you with something ma’am?”

His eyes continued to dart towards the door. Before I could ask him who he was or what he was doing here, a man walked through the door. This man I recognized. Sherlock wasn’t looking my way, staring at the other man as well, until he finally directed his eyes towards me. His eyes widen slightly, only enough for me to see, and I ran.

I jumped on top of him, causing him to tumble slightly, holding onto my waist as I wrapped my legs around his torso. Although he hated displays of affections, I loved them. Especially if I could make him flustered. “Y/N,” he said in my ear, still holding on, “I see that your mission went well.” I looked at his face, and placed my hands on his face, kissing his nose, “of course it did!” He groaned in slight disgust of the affection, making me laugh.

I suddenly felt myself falling, as Sherlock let me go without warning. I landed on my feet slightly wobbling and heard a cough from behind. “So, uh, who is this?” the man said, looking between Sherlock and I, shocked by our display. Sherlock was still somewhat flustered and waving his hand around, as if he were giving permission to speak. “Hello,” I said while walking forward, putting my hand out, “my name is Y/N Holmes.”

His face was even more confused, looking back at Sherlock, “you didn’t tell me you had a… sister?” His voice became strained, as he was clearly trying to think about your relationship logically. He really knew Sherlock if he assumed a familiar relationship rather than a romantic one. I laughed slightly, causing him to stare at me again, “do we look alike?” The man looked agape and continued to stare at me, now looking at my whole presence. “Well, no,” he said sheepishly.

“That’s because we are not related,” I said walking towards Sherlock again, slipping my arm around his waist, “we’re married.” Sherlock moved forward while sighing, out of my reach and sat in his chair. “I’m sorry, did you say married?” the man said dropping the groceries and walking towards my husband. He waved his hand, most likely already bored of the conversation. “I asked you if you were in a relationship!” the blonde said while staring straight at the detective. “You asked if I had a girlfriend or boyfriend,” he answered in monotone, “not a wife.”

The man was left speechless and turned to me, “how are you married? He hates people!” I laughed and before I could answer Sherlock spoke, “she is hardly a person John, wait till you get to know her.” I gasped before walking up to him and swatting his arm, “well that’s rude, I haven’t seen you in four months, that’s how you treat me. I was expecting flowers and a honeymoon suite,” I looked to John, as Sherlock had finally given up his name, “but you are right, he hates people. Which makes me wonder why he likes you.”

John’s head titled slightly, catching his own paradox, but his confusion didn’t last too long. “Hold on. Four months?” he questioned you, “where have you been?” Sherlock peeked up in interest, as he also didn’t know much about your mission. “I was in Argentina,” I said in a bore, “I had a mission down there.” Sherlock hummed in acknowledgement before grabbing your left wrist, allowing John to peak at your wedding ring, “that explains the tan lines, and humid smell. You’ve stopped wearing your favorite perfume.” You took back your wrist and rolled your eyes, of course he would notice that.

“Um, mission? Are you military?” John asked wearily, knowing that private military intelligence often had mission in foreign countries. “I work for Mycroft,” I answered, “I’m sure you’ve met him.” John nodded his head in understanding, “so, you’re MI6?” Sherlock snickered and jumped up, trying to find something interesting to focus on. “I never said that,” I smirked while my eyes followed my husband. The blonde man looked puzzled, not understanding what job I could possibly hold.

“I clean up Mycroft’s messes,” I said finally looked back at John. A look of comprehension passed by his face and he nodded, clearly not wanting to ask more. “Um, Sherlock. How can you, no offense Y/N, be married?” The man in question groaned, obviously getting more and more bored by the second, “are we still talking about this?” John lifted his hands up flustered, and looking to me for help. I shrugged, as if saying that this was between the both of them, Sherlock had to fix his friendship.

“Also, what do you mean she isn’t human?” John asked enraged, clearly more confused that he would address me in that manner, causing me to laugh. “She is a lot like me, only murderous, wouldn’t you agree dear,” Sherlock said lightly, with almost a hint of humor. I scoffed and walked to the kitchen, if I were going to listen to this conversation, I need a cup of tea. Wasn’t Mrs. Husdon going to bring me one?

“Mur- Murderous?” I heard John say as I ruffled through the cabinets looking for tea. “Don’t worry, John,” I said now looking for a mug, “not for sport.” This clearly didn’t make him feel better as all I heard was silence. I turned back around and only to see Sher smirking and a very wide-eyed John. I rolled my eyes and placed the stuff I found on the table, “what did you think when I said I cleaned Mycroft’s messes, darling?”

John’s mouth went agape, almost looking like a fish. “So are you…?” John said trying to piece things together, while Sherlock continued to stare a me, enjoying his discomfort. “A psychopath?” I finished for him, as he didn’t know what to say, “I like to think of myself as eccentric, but I suppose that works too.” John whipped around to Sherlock, who was staring straight at me. “You didn’t want to tell me you married a bloody psychopath? No offense,” he added quickly, making me giggle again. “Don’t worry Johnny, I’m merely an assassin for hire getting her kicks through that.” John whipped around to stare at me, nodding slightly, “I’m… going to go get a drink, I need to process this,” he walked past me and grabbed his coat, “nice to meet you Y/N.”

Once the door closed, I looked back at my husband, who hadn’t stopped staring at me. “Did you have to make it that dramatic?” I walked to him and ruffled his hair, causing him to grab my wrist. “It’s only the truth,” he said while his hand went to playing with my fingers, “he would have found out eventually.” I hummed in agreement, relishing the little contact he was giving, I had been without him for too long. “Since we are alone…” I began while placing my arms around his neck, “and it has been 4 months. Alone and bored, for four months…”

Sherlock looked down at me, his eyes a little more playful than when John had been here. I understood that he was embarrassed to have full physical contact in front of anyone, but he really changed when we were alone. “How boring,” he said, pushing my hands off, smirking at my misery. “You’re really going to leave a girl hanging Mr. Holmes?” I questioned smugly, hands on my hips. “Oh, no Mrs. Holmes,” he said without turning to face me, walking towards the bedroom, “I can assure you that we’ll be having an exciting time.”

I laughed and ran to him, jumping on his back, causing him to chuckle slightly. “Come on wife,” he said closing the door with his foot, “show me just how bored you were.”

More from the series: (1) (2)

[magicallygrimmwiccan]

Fear Is Dark (But My Love Is A Lantern)

Summary: In which Secrets Are Revealed, Plushies are Found, and Logan Makes a Friend (spoilers: it's Joan)

Notes: ... this took so long to post here, sorry

                      Chapter Four- They Fall Down On Their Own

Thomas blinked awake the next morning, exhausted yet content. He wondered why he was yet again sleeping on the couch, this time in an upright position, when he registered a couple of warm weights curled up into his sides. He glanced down to see what was going on, and his heart melted at the adorable sight that greeted him. Patton and Roman were cuddling in their sleep on Thomas’s right side, Patton’s slightly-higher-than-average body temperature radiating into Thomas because of the close proximity. On his left side, Logan and Virgil appeared to be attempting to fuse together, that’s how closely they were cuddling. Virgil was imitating a baby koala, his long limbs wrapped around Logan’s body as he clung to his chest, while Logan had tangled his legs together with Virgil’s. Overall, it was an adorable sight, and Thomas sneakily grabbed out his phone to snap a picture of the sleeping kids. He was just debating how best to extract himself from the cuddle pile so as not to wake any of them up when a loud knock sounded at the door. He jumped, startled, and wracked his brain for possibilities on who could be here at this hour. He groaned when the answer came to him. Joan and Talyn had agreed to come over today so that they could work on a video. What was he possibly going to tell them about the sleeping aspects cuddled all around him?

“Thomas? You awake yet, man?” Joan’s voice called from outside. Thomas sighed and gave up on slowly untangling himself, instead just jumping up from the couch and walking to the door, ignoring the sleepy grumbles of complaint from behind him. He opened the door, blinking his eyes rapidly to adjust them to the bright sunlight, and grinned sheepishly at Joan and Talyn.

“Hey, guys, I was asleep, sorry,” Thomas laughed nervously. Talyn arched an eyebrow at him, suspicion radiating off of them.

“That’s fine, Thomas. What’s got you so anxious?” they asked, shoving their hands into the pockets of their jeans. Thomas sighed and decided to just bite the bullet and tell them.

“So, something weird happened a couple days ago. Apparently, and none of us can figure out how, a few aspects of my personality manifested permanently into the real world, and now they’re living with me. I don’t know how to get them to unmanifest, they don’t know why they’re like this, we just all know that I have to take care of them for the time being,” Thomas rushed out, anxiety churning in his gut. What if they thought he was crazy? What if they tried to get him to a mental hospital? What if he was crazy?!

“Okay… Thomas, how much sleep have you gotten in the past couple days?” Joan asked slowly, their words long and drawn out as if they were trying to not spook him.

“At least eight hours a night. Look, I’m fairly certain I’m not crazy, just… come in and you’ll see,” Thomas huffed, leading his two friends into the living room. Joan and Talyn followed, and Thomas felt the exact second they noticed the sleeping aspects on his couch. Now that Thomas had had them around for a couple days, he had noticed that they all had extremely similar facial features, even if certain physical attributes were different. (He may have also pulled up pictures from his childhood to compare, and yep, these kids were definitely parts of him.) So, yeah, if that didn’t convince Joan and Talyn, he didn’t know what would.

“What the fuck,” Joan whispered. Talyn nodded in agreement, obviously in too much shock to formulate a comment of their own.

“I don’t know!” Thomas hissed. “I was hoping you guys could help me figure this out.”

“Thomas… this goes behind the scope of weirdness that my brain can handle. I have no idea where to even start,” Talyn finally offered, their eyes wide. Thomas went to reassure them when a sleepy grumble cut through his thoughts. He spun around to see Logan and Virgil sitting up and untangling themselves, discontented murmurs coming from both of them. It only took them a couple of seconds to notice the two new people in the room, and when they did, they froze, dark blue and violet eyes widening in fear. Virgil shrunk back into his hoodie yet placed himself between Joan and Talyn and Logan, obviously in an attempt to protect him from the two new people.

“Who the fuck are you two?” Virgil growled, and Thomas shivered as a chill settled over the room. No six year old had any right to sound that terrifying. Talyn snapped out of their shock first and approached, giving the two terrified kids a reassuring smile.

“Hey, I’m Talyn. Thomas just told me about what’s going on. How are you two holding up?” they asked, walking around the couch to crouch in front of Virgil and Logan. Virgil quickly switched positions so that Logan was practically pinned to the couch and stared Talyn down. The effect was ruined a bit by his trembling frame, but still, he looked like he was one wrong word away from launching himself at Talyn in order to defend himself.

“We were fine until two new people who I’ve never met in my life walked in!” Virgil hissed, his violet eyes narrowing. Thomas noticed that Logan still didn’t have his glasses on, and as such, the slightly older aspect was hiding behind Virgil, probably trying to let the one that could see handle this new and scary situation.

“Hey, that’s fine. What’s your name, little guy?” Talyn continued, still trying to break through to Virgil. They glanced up at Thomas for a confirmation of pronouns, and Thomas nodded, mouthing “They’re all male” to make sure that Talyn understood. From behind him, Thomas heard Joan moving around, and when he glanced back, he saw Joan holding up two sets of glasses belonging to Logan and Patton.

“I-I’m Virgil,” Virgil muttered, beginning to uncurl a little. Talyn’s smile widened and they held out their fist for a fist bump. Virgil warily tapped his fist against theirs, and Talyn giggled a little.

“That’s a nice name, Virgil. Want to come meet my friend Joan? They’re really nice and they’re not going to hurt you, I promise.” Virgil slowly nodded and slid off the couch, pausing and holding his hand out to Logan. Logan warily took it and slid off the couch as well, obviously relying on Virgil for directions on where to go. Talyn held a hand out to Logan, and Logan flinched back. Talyn paused and crouched down to his level, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“What’s your name, kiddo?” they asked softly, something that Thomas appreciated. He still hadn’t been able to figure out why Logan was so jumpy, and that made him nervous. Had something happened to him?

“L-Logan,” he stuttered, obviously working very hard to get his speech under control.

“That’s a wonderful, name, Logan. We’re going over to Joan and Thomas now. Want to come with?” Logan nodded, and with that, Talyn slowly walked back around the couch and towards Thomas and Joan, Virgil trailing with Logan behind him. When they reached Thomas and Joan, Virgil wrapped the arm currently not being held by Logan around Thomas’s legs as he blinked shyly up at Joan.

“Hey, Virgil and Logan, I’m Joan. Nice to meet you,” Joan offered, crouching down to give the two a high-five. Virgil cautiously reciprocated before leading Logan’s hand to Joan’s. Joan grinned and held out Patton’s glasses. “Are these yours, Logan?” Virgil opened his mouth to say something, probably no, when Logan’s hand shot out and gently grabbed the glasses before he shoved them on his face. He blinked, disoriented, before mumbling “No, these are Patton’s.” Virgil carefully grabbed Logan’s glasses and placed them into his hands. Logan swapped glasses, and when he could finally see, nodded at Joan in gratitude.

“Thank you, Joan,” Logan stated, clasping his hands together in front of him. Joan grinned and ruffled Logan’s already messy black hair, ignoring the indignant squawks that emerged from him.

“Anytime, buddy,” Joan replied before standing up. Logan huffed and attempted to fix his hair into a somewhat respectable hairstyle as Joan turned to Thomas. “Yeah, I think the video can wait a few hours. How do you want to go about this?”

“Thomas? Who’s there?” Roman’s sleepy mumble cut through the discussion. The redhead was sitting up, rubbing his eyes and yawning, and Patton was also awake, already sliding off the couch. He was navigating much better than Logan had without his glasses, and Thomas quietly filed that information away for another time.

“I’m assuming these are one of yours?” Joan offered, holding out Patton’s glasses. Patton blinked and came closer to inspect them.

“Yep!” he chirped after a moment, gently grabbing them and shoving them onto his face. “Thanks… what’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Joan, and this is Talyn. What’s your name?” Joan asked, sticking their hand out for a handshake. Patton took it, beaming.

“I’m Patton, and the sleepy redhead behind me is Roman,” he answered, giggling slightly at the indignant look on Roman’s face. “Nice to meet you, Joan and Talyn!” Joan beamed; Patton’s enthusiasm was clearly infectious. “Now, what could you two possibly be doing here in Thomas’s house this early in the morning?”

“We were going to film a new video, but, well… now we’re here to help Thomas figure stuff out,” Joan replied, adjusting their beanie a bit. Patton blinked before comprehension dawned and he nodded. Roman yawned loudly while shooting Joan and Talyn a large thumbs-up, causing Patton to giggle a bit at the antics of the dramatic redhead.

“Excellent. I believe our first order of business should be a clothing change?” Roman offered, voice muddled with sleep. Logan practically sprinted for the stairs the second Roman suggested that, Virgil not too far behind. Even Patton and Roman looked taken aback at the speed with which they had just been abandoned, and Joan was shooting anxious looks at the disappearing backs of the two youngest aspects.

“I’m assuming those two are the antisocial parts of you?” Joan asked. Roman snorted, murmuring something along the lines of “How’d you guess?” until Patton elbowed him into silence. Thomas nodded confirmation for Joan’s question and then followed Logan and Virgil up the stairs, determined to figure out what was wrong. He found the bathroom door closed and no Virgil or Logan in sight, so, after bracing himself with a deep breath, he knocked on the bathroom door.

A sniff came from inside, and then Virgil called back “We’ll be out in a bit.”

“Virgil, Logan, it’s Thomas. May I come in?” Thomas queried quietly. A couple of soft whispers, so soft that Thomas couldn’t even make out individual words, a shuffling, a soft click of a door unlocking, and then Thomas found himself yanked inside the bathroom, letting out a startled yelp. He blinked rapidly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the harsh glare of the bathroom lights, to find Logan curled up in a tiny ball with Virgil crouching in front of him.

“L was having a hard time with new people,” Virgil murmured by way of an explanation. Thomas’s brows furrowed in confusion. He was expecting that from Virgil, but from Logan? Virgil must have noticed his confusion, for he simply sighed and turned to Logan, whispering “Do you want me to tell him, L?” to the rocking Logan. Logan’s rocking paused and he nodded once, twice, three times, before resuming rocking. Virgil nodded once in response and turned to Thomas.

“He’s autistic,” Virgil stated, voice flat. “He learned plenty of coping mechanisms over time, but our bodies have been regressed to the point where his body hasn’t learned those coping mechanisms. So, here we are.”

“Oh.” Thomas, admittedly, didn’t know much about autism, and he wasn’t even sure how an aspect of him could have autism if he himself didn’t, but he shoved those unhelpful thoughts into the back of his mind; Logan was more important now.

“Okay, so what helps you, Logan?” Thomas asked. Logan waved a hand vaguely, and Virgil translated: “His stuffed owl. Which is in the Mindscape. And we can’t summon it. I’ve been trying since we locked ourselves in here.” Logan made a high-pitched noise in his throat and pointed at Thomas.

“... oh yeah.” Virgil turned to face Thomas. “Thomas, I need you to focus really hard on grabbing Logan’s owl.”

“I don’t even know what it looks like!” Thomas exclaimed, panicking internally. He was just going to make everything worse for Logan, wasn’t he? Virgil groaned and facepalmed before grabbing out his phone, unlocking it, and going straight (ha) for his camera roll. He quickly found what he was looking for and shoved it at Thomas, who had to squint to focus his vision. He saw an adult Logan, sprawled out on a bed, cuddling a black-and-dark-blue galaxy-patterned owl with blue button eyes. Little tufts of fluff stuck out of the top of the owl’s head and brushed against Logan’s chin in the picture, and, Thomas realized with a start, the button eyes had been sewn on over and over again, a sign that the owl was well-loved.

“There, now you know what it looks like. Can you just… summon it, please?” Virgil pleaded, putting his phone away and turning back to Logan. Thomas took a deep breath in through his nose, closed his eyes, and pictured the owl with all his might: how much it must mean to Logan, what sort of comfort it must bring, why Logan found such comfort in it. He felt something solid tickle the edge of his consciousness, and he reached towards it eagerly and pulled . His fingers closed around something soft and solid, but it was Virgil’s strangled little noise that brought him back to reality.

“You… you actually summoned it,” Virgil whispered. Thomas looked down, and sure enough, Logan’s owl was clenched firmly in his grasp. Logan made a happy noise before he snapped his arm out, snatched the owl out of Thomas’s hands, and brought it back to his chest to cuddle. Thomas blinked, but Virgil just shot him a grateful look before going back to taking care of Logan.

“Thank you,” Virgil murmured. “Now, if you could go tell the others that Logan and I will be down in a few minutes?” Thomas nodded and stood to leave.

“T-thank you… Thomas…” Logan whispered. Thomas paused and turned to give the small child a warm smile.

“Anytime, Logan. Anytime.” With that, Thomas exited the bathroom, leaving the two youngest alone.

Notes: Feel free to scream at me, sorry for it taking so long :( 

[i-am-thedragon]

Repairs

Here’s a DHMIS fanfic I wrote back in March 2016, but never uploaded for whatever reason. I recently rediscovered it and I’m posting it now, because I’m on a bit of a DHMIS kick and I honestly miss being active in the fandom. I considered editing some bits of this fanfic, but I decided to leave it as is in all its “my pretentious 2016 writing style” glory. Also note (to those unfamiliar with my fanfics) that I referred to the characters as Red(Redmond), Donnie, and Crowe at the time, before their names were confirmed(?) as being ‘Red Guy’, ‘Yellow Guy’, and ‘Duck’.

Story description: After the events of DHMIS 4, our three beloved protagonists are left with an aggressive (but slowly dying) computer they do not know what to do with. But of course, one puppet’s trash is another’s high-value collector’s treasure. 6331 words, mild mentions of gore.

Without further delay, here is Repairs.

Donnie stood silently in the hall, pouting at a seemingly inconspicuous closed door. The door led into the games room, in which the board games, the laptop, and other knick-knacks were kept. The child let out a whine as he slouched forward unhappily, his orange nose almost touching the door.

His attention turned to the sound of approaching footsteps from the end of the hall. It was his friend Crowe, peering at him with curiosity.

“What’s the matter?” The green-feathered duck asked. “Why in the world are you staring at that door?”

He had a feeling, however, that he already knew the answer.

“I wanna play Money Win.” Donnie grumbled, scuffing his foot dejectedly on the ground. “But the scary computer’s in there.”

“Oh, he’s not that scary.” Crowe responded with a chuckle. “He’s just a box of gadgetry, all made up of buttons and wires!”

“Well if you’re not scared of him, why don’t you get the Money Win game for me!” Donnie retorted somewhat defensively. “…Please?”

The smile was wiped from Crowe’s beak as he thought about actually going in there. He didn’t want to admit it, but Colin the Computer did unnerve him. The ‘games room incident’ had only occurred a couple of days earlier, and that room had been an unpleasant place to be ever since. Whenever someone went in there Colin would act up, making strange noises and asking increasingly nonsensical questions like “Did you drink a orange today?” or “How many egg are you?”, and growing unpredictable and aggressive. Still, it wasn’t like he could get hurt in there, right? Colin was just a bunch of buttons, wires, and circuits after all.

“Alright, fine!” Crowe huffed. “But I get first turn when we start playing!”

 Crowe tried to hide his hesitation as he turned the door knob and pushed the door open. The games room stood before him, in its usual presentable state. On the table in the center, however, stood that computer, gazing back at him with gritted teeth and that square-eyed stare. Traces of a mysterious dirty-yellow liquid trickled from his eyes and mouth. Colin began emitting a low-quality whining noise upon being noticed. Crowe gulped as he stepped inside. Lucky for him at least, the board game he was after was on top of the shelf right near the doorway, so he wouldn’t have to pass Colin to get to it. Not so fortunately, it was far too high for him to reach.

“I’m sorry, Donnie, you’ll have to ask Red to get it.” Crowe spoke, shaking his head.

Donnie simply gave a sad nod and walked away, leaving Crowe alone. The bird’s attention wandered to the desk at the other end of the room, on which sat a quill and ink. One of his beloved possessions! Oh how he’d missed it those past few days. Crowe wanted it back… But he had to make it past Colin first. Surely that wouldn’t be a problem, or so he hoped. With slow, steady steps, he paced past the table. When he glanced at the computer watching over him ominously, the two locked in a gaze. It seemed Colin’s stare was growing more malevolent and his voice increasing in pitch and volume with each passing moment, until he finally snapped.

“WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT MEEEEEEEEEE-“

Crowe nearly jumped right out of his feathers before turning and bolting out of the games room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 At that moment, Red and Donnie entered the hallway, stopping when they noticed how panicked their friend looked.

“It’s the computer, isn’t it?” Red sighed.

“Well, I uh, I got a little startled, that’s all!” Crowe squeaked shakily with a sheepish grin.

Donnie folded his arms with an ‘I told you so’ smirk as Red pondered what to do.

“I think he’s dying anyway.” Red decided with a shrug. “Just leave him ‘til he stops moving and making noises.”

“So… No Money Win?” Donnie asked.

“Not yet.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 A few days passed and Red simply couldn’t handle it. He hardly cared about that creepy computer anymore, he needed his laptop. He longed for that pristine screen, those data-filled files, that sweet, sweet, internet connection. Colin could scream and flail all he wanted, Red was getting that laptop back.

Upon opening the door, Red was greeted by a warbled screeching as Colin flailed his cord-like arms around. That nasty yellowish substance was still leaking from the computer’s eyes and mouth, staining the tablecloth. Red knew that Colin hated him the most, and was particularly aggressive in his presence.

The long-haired figure ignored the screeching and flailing, turning to a nearby shelf and gently removing a closed laptop from the top of it. What a superior piece of technology it was. While he was there, Red also collected Crowe’s quill and ink from the desk and the Money Win game from atop the shelf. He would come for the rest later. Colin’s screeching tried to form itself into words, but all that came out was an enraged digital mess.

After pushing the games room door shut with his foot, Red trudged into the living room and placed the board game on the book shelf.

“I wonder if Donnie will notice it’s there when he comes back into the living room.” Crowe chuckled, watching Red from his rocking chair. “He’s in his bedroom playing with his toys at the moment.”

“Oh, I got this for you.” Red stated, turning around and holding out the quill and ink.

The duck sprung from his chair and darted over gleefully, taking his beloved possession with a smile.

“Ah, thank you so much!” He exclaimed. “I heard that nasty computer screaming bloody murder while you were in there. Golly, that must have been frightening!”

“Not really, it’s not like he can do much other than that anymore.” Red replied with a shrug. “Give him a few more days and he’ll be pretty much dead. Anyway, I got our laptop back, too. I really need to check my emails.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 A few further days passed. Although he rarely admitted it, the deep web was one of Red’s favourite places to explore. That’s where a lot of the stranger sites were. He wasn’t into the completely depraved and grotesque content, of course, but by now he was mostly desensitised to it anyway. Red mostly came across websites made by people with unique obsessions; the kind of people with entire websites dedicated to rocking chairs and video segments of themselves describing and analysing every chair in their collection.

It was one of those sort of sites Red had come across that evening, one made by someone with a deep fascination with old computers. He shook his head as he scrolled down, wondering how anyone could deal with so much painfully outdated technology. Whoever this person was, they possessed not only a large collection of those vintage machines, but just about every manual or advertisement piece relating to them. Clicking on a page for any of this person’s computers would lead to long page with in-depth descriptions of its history, functions, maintenance, and so on. Perhaps it wasn’t so much how frighteningly comprehensive the site was that made Red just a little uncomfortable, but rather the sight of all those old, outdated computers. They all reminded him so much of Colin. Still, credit due where credit was due, he was impressed with the effort the owner of this site had put into it.

Red was thinking of logging off for the evening when he came across something that made his heart jump. On a web page detailing the few vintage computers not in the site owner’s possession, there was an advertisement with an all too familiar face on it.

“It’s that darn thing in the games room…” Red muttered quietly to himself, taking a sip from his mug of coffee.

The advertisement, scanned from some old magazine or newspaper, featured that blocky machine with those square eyes and gritted teeth.

The Smart Boy Industries ALL NEW Computery Guy!

The pinnacle of modern technology! Comes with Doors ∞ pre-installed!

Can count at incredible speeds, tell the time with pinpoint accuracy, and remember personal info!

All thanks to Smart Boy Industries’ patented DIGITAL MIND!

Now Red was both disturbed and curious. He wanted to know more about the digital beast terrorising the games room. Luckily, this deep-web site didn’t fail to deliver.

I’ve been wanting to get my paws on one of these beauties for ages, but I don’t think it’ll happen. I’ve searched far and wide all over the web, but no-one’s selling one! I wouldn’t blame them, really. Can you believe only 50 of them were ever made? They were discontinued pretty quickly after their release on June 19, 1985 and became a real rarity. Chances are most, if not all of them, have either been thrown out or simply stopped working by now. The Computery Guy line was incredibly controversial due to the inclusion of the ‘digital mind’- A piece of REAL brain or brain-like tissue that was supposed to make the computer smarter and more functional. I can see how that raised a lot of ethical issues. In fact, three months after the release of the Computery Guy they were banned in 19 countries. Smart Boy Industries took a huge hit from the controversy, they almost got shut down entirely! I am fairly sure they’re still around, but much smaller and they don’t make computers anymore. I heard they do make printers and other electronics now, though. Anyway, here are some of the Computery Guy’s unique functions…

Red didn’t read beyond that point. That computer was a rarity? Possibly the last unit of the model! That wasn’t what surprised him the most, though. Colin essentially had a real brain. That might have explained some of his odd behaviour.

 “Red, may I use the laptop briefly when you’re done with it?” Spoke Crowe from nearby, startling Red. “There’s an old song with a title that escapes me at the moment. I was hoping I might find the answer online.”

“Sure.” Replied Red. “But first, you should take a look at this.”

He swiveled the laptop around and showed it to his friend. Crowe looked at the screen with disgust at first, then the same morbid curiosity Red had felt before.

“I’m surprised anyone would want one of those.” The bird scoffed. “Though I suppose ours isn’t exactly… Functioning properly.”

“I wonder what the computer was like in his better days.” Red thought aloud with a shrug.

“Where did you find this anyway?” Crowe asked. “Have you been exploring the deep web again? I heard it’s a dangerous place.”

“Relax, Crowe, it’s just a site about old computers.”

“How much do you think this person would pay us for our Computery Guy?”

Red did a double-take upon hearing that question.

“You think we should sell him to whoever owns this site?”

“Yes. Well, we need to get him off our hands somehow. And surely you know by now that disposing of computers and other electronics in landfill is terrible for the environment! Besides, if this mysterious person is that much of an avid enthusiast for vintage computers, we should get quite a bit in return.”

Red dwelled on the idea for a silent moment or two. Receiving Colin could make this person’s day, or possibly ruin it, too. Either way, they’d probably pay big money for him. Unfortunately, it seemed the Computery Guy in the games room was in his final days anyway. While a non-functional model might still be worth something, he probably wouldn’t be worth a whole lot.

“Alright Crowe.” Red decided. “I’ll see if I can contact this person tomorrow. Whoever they are they need to know what they’re getting into, first.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Hello. My name is Redmond. I was browsing your vintage computer website the other day and I saw you had interest in the Smart Boy Industries’ ‘Computery Guy’. It looks like you haven’t updated your site for quite a long time, but I was wondering if you were still interested in owning one. My friends and I have one in our games room we’ve been meaning to get rid of, and we were thinking you might be interested in buying it. Unfortunately, the computer is pretty broken at this point. Please respond if you’re interested.

-Redmond

Red sent the email to the contact address given on that deep-web site. He hoped he would get a reply within the following week or two, but if not, then so be it. It was worth a shot regardless. He ended up receiving a reply early the next day.

Hello Redmond! I’m Pillars Cloudfoot. I’m very excited about your offer! I’ve yet to make contact with someone owning a Computery Guy, let alone someone offering to sell theirs! Wow!

Which one is he? Someone on one of my forums told me they all have a unique name- Caleb, Curtis, Clyde, Carl, Chris, Connor, Colin, Cameron, Craig, Colby, Clarence, Calvin, Corby, and Claude, to name a few.

Don’t worry about him being broken, I’d imagine they all kicked the bucket a couple decades ago. Even if I can’t find a way to repair him I’ll be glad just to have him in my collection. All I ask is that you show me a photo first, just so I know you’re being legitimate about this. Don’t take it personally, there are just too many scammers out there, y’know?

-Mx. Cloudfoot

 Red was pleased with the response he received. This ‘Pillars’ seemed like a pretty decent person, and they were certainly happy about the offer. When Red stepped into the games room with his laptop in his hands, Colin began emitting a low, droning whine comparable to a toy with a low battery. Other than that, though, he didn’t do anything. He simply sat in place, his jaw hanging open and his eyes filled with malice despite his drooping eyelids.

“Be quiet, you won’t have to deal with us too much longer.” Red said as he turned the laptop to face the computer.

He clicked a button and took a photo of Colin using the laptop’s in-built webcam. The image quality wasn’t too great but it was good enough, and it saved Red having to get the camera and go searching for the USB cord to connect it to the laptop.

Looking at the photo he’d just taken, and then back at Colin, he realised just how much of a nasty condition the computer was in. Remnants of a strange yellowish fluid had dried in his mouth and eyes, and in pools beneath him, and his face seemed stuck in a weary but vicious scream. The grainy quality of the photo didn’t help. Red had a feeling Pillars wouldn’t appreciate that.

 Thanks for responding to my offer. I’ve attached a photo of the Computery Guy- His name is Colin- and as you can probably tell he’s not in such good shape. I should point out that he wasn’t originally ours, he appeared in our house less than a fortnight ago out of nowhere and was actually mostly functional at the time. We’ve no idea where he came from or who owned him before us. All we can tell is that Colin was really aggressive and kind of rude, too. He managed to scare all three of us. That’s why we’re selling him. I hope that doesn’t put you off buying him, Pillars. It’s not like he can really do anything now anyway. I’ll try to get that dried fluid cleaned up, too. I don’t know what it is, though.

-Redmond

A response came only several hours later.

Yikes! I see what you mean! Good grief, poor Colin!

Actually, you have me very curious and a bit concerned. If what you say is true, Colin’s been functioning for almost three decades! Incredible! But you said he was aggressive? How so? From what I know the Computery Guys were never meant to be aggressive or disobedient in any circumstances. That’s really strange. Now that he’s dead you can’t run diagnostics, but I think you should take a look at his digital mind anyway. Just see if anything looks abnormal.

In case you don’t know how, here’s how to get the digital mind out:

Press the green, red, and blue button on the back of the monitor simultaneously, hold for six seconds, and then turn the knob beside it until you hear a click. That should eject the digital mind cartridge. You can open the cartridge to inspect the digital mind but I highly recommend not leaving it open for too long. It’s bad to expose the digital mind for too long. Then slide the cartridge back in when you’re done.

I’ve also attached a couple of scans uploaded to one of my forums. You’ll probably need to take some bits apart to properly clean Colin so these couple of pages from the manual should detail how to do that. Apparently Smart Boy Industries knew the Computery Guys were prone to small leakages around the eyes and mouth, but I don’t know how yours got THAT bad.

-Mx. Cloudfoot

Cleaning all that bizarre dried gunk off Colin would give Red something to do over the weekend. Maybe Donnie and Crowe would help, though he wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to. Heck, even he was hesitant about touching Colin again.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Donnie peeked his head through the doorway timidly, gripping at the door frame with his fingers. He watched as his two best friends sat themselves down around the table with a toolbox, the laptop, and some rags and cleaning supplies. The child nervously eyed the subject of interest, the now lifeless computer in the center of the table. Colin was still in the same state as when Red last saw him, only quieter. His jaw still hung agape, his eyelids droopy and his cord-like arms limp. That residue around his eyes and mouth only made his appearance more morbid.

Red began by placing one hand on top of Colin and firmly grasping the computer’s jaw with the other. With a pull and a slight jiggle, the jaw detached and Red handed it over to Crowe. Without a word, Crowe began cleaning Colin’s jaw, scrubbing away the mysterious yellow residue from between the teeth. Red pulled a screwdriver from his toolbox and began unscrewing the frame around Colin’s monitor. That part needed to be removed so Red could properly clean around Colin’s eyes.

Donnie watched on with cautious curiosity. Even if he wasn’t as afraid of the computer as he had been before, he still didn’t want to be in the same room as him. Besides, cleaning dirty computer parts didn’t sound like much fun anyway. It was rather interesting to watch, though.

 Red and Crowe finished cleaning Colin more quickly than they had anticipated. Red had expected those strange leaks to have from a bit deeper within Colin, yet neither he nor Crowe had any luck finding the source of it. It was if the substance had just appeared at the computer’s eyes and mouth. As red screwed the frame of Colin’s monitor back on, Crowe spoke.

“Weren’t you advised to check the digital mind?” He reminded.

“I was about to get to that, actually.” Red answered.

Red placed the screwdriver back into the toolbox and turned Colin around. As told by both Pillars and the instruction manual scans, there were three buttons- a red one, a green one, and a blue one- and a knob beside it, among other things. As instructed, Red held down the three buttons simultaneously and waited.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six!

He then gently turned the knob beside the buttons until a loud click broke the silence. A small compartment had ejected itself slightly from the back of Colin. Red carefully pulled out a box-shaped cartridge about the size of the palm of his hand. It felt… Sticky. When Red turned the cartridge over to investigate, he found traces of dark crimson residue built up on the underside. He sighed as he thought about how he’d have to clean that too, but in the meantime he needed to check what was inside the cartridge. Without wasting any more time, Red opened up the cartridge, and he and Crowe peered inside.

 What they saw was not what they expected. Inside the cartridge was a small piece of brain-like matter covered in crimson slime. It had broken, frayed wires protruding from it and a cluster of off-colour boil-like growths on the front of it.

“Oh, that’s… Something.” Crowe remarked uneasily. “Well, you know what Pillars said, you ought to put that back. All this exposure won’t do it any good.”

“Hang on, can you take a photo of it with the laptop first?” Red asked. “I’m not sure if this is right, I should really show it to Pillars and ask for their opinion.”

He had reason to feel that something wasn’t right, too. The digital mind he held looked nothing like the one depicted in the instruction manual scans. Even if the one in the manual was only a stylised interpretation, it looked a lot less off than Colin’s.

Red held the open digital mind cartridge in front of the laptop’s webcam as Crowe took a photo. Then the cartridge was closed and Red began to clean that build-up off the bottom of it.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Thanks for the manual scans, they helped a lot. Pillars, I’ve cleaned Colin out and I took a look at his digital mind. I attached a photo of what I saw. I get the feeling something’s a bit off about it, but that could be just to do with age. Do you think that might be why Colin acted aggressively? When we found him he was singing, but he interrupted a lot and wasn’t a good listener. He kept asking a load of really irrelevant questions and completely flipped out when I hit his keyboard. There was also some stuff involving warped reality, existential crises, and my head exploding, but I won’t go into detail. Anyway, I thought I’d make sure you knew fully of Colin’s condition before we negotiated a selling price.

-Red

 …Oh boy. Redmond, that digital mind is an absolute wreck. Now, I’d expected the Computery Guys’ digital minds to deteriorate over time, but this looks like more than time-related deterioration. Looking at this photo you sent me, I wonder if Colin’s previous owner took Colin’s digital mind out of its cartridge, poked it with their unwashed fingers, threw it at a wall, and spat on it. Heck, that wouldn’t explain half of what I’m seeing.

Redmond, don’t even put that back into Colin. If you already have, consider taking it out and throwing it out. Heck, if I were you I might even burn it. Yikes, it’s no wonder he was acting up.

Well seeing as though the digital mind is a no-go, there won’t be any way for me to fully repair Colin. No big deal, though, as long as I have the rest of him in my collection I’ll be happy enough. What a shame though, with proper maintenance Colin could still be functioning today. There’s no way of getting a replacement digital mind now. Smart Boy industries apparently offered replacements at the time, though.

Also, I ought to mention that I’ll be gone for a week. My birthday’s coming up and I’m going on a little holiday with some family, so I won’t be able to keep in contact after today. Until then, all the best to you and your friends!

-Mx. Cloudfoot

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Even though it was of no loss to him, Red couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed by the turn of events. It did seem like quite a shame that he had to give his online acquaintance a dead computer that could never be fully repaired, even if they were happy to accept it. Still, anything to get Colin off his hands and out of the house was good enough. Not that Colin had been a threat in the slightest since he stopped functioning, mind you. All Red and his friends could do until Pillars returned to the web was wait.

Red tapped his foot lightly to an imaginary rhythm as he channel-surfed from his green armchair. Crowe was outside with Donnie lighting a bonfire in the backyard, so they could 'properly dispose of' Colin's old digital mind. Red wondered if perhaps he should’ve be out there with them, making sure they didn't burn down the yard and half the countryside with it, but Crowe insisted he had everything under control. As Red contemplated the current situation, he gave a heavy sigh. Not a saddened or frustrated sigh, but an 'oh well, what'll one do about it' sigh.

“Are you okay, Red?” A voice suddenly spoke, startling Red.

Donnie must have heard the sigh, as he now stood at the other side of the living room with his head tilted in curiosity. Red hadn't even heard him re-enter the house.

“Yeah.” Red replied with a shrug. “It's just a bit of a shame we don't have a digital mind for Colin, that's all.”

Donnie couldn't quite comprehend why Red would want to but a brain back into that nasty broken computer. Colin was far better off without one! Without a digital mind he couldn't frighten anyone or ask too many strange questions. However, the boy had trust in his friends above all else, so Red surely had a good reason for what he wanted.

“Why don't you just get another one?” Donnie asked innocently.

“They stopped making ‘Computery Guys’ a long, long time ago.” Red explained, scratching his head. “Back then Smart Boy Industries probably had replacements, but there's no reason for them to still have any if no-one's using Computery Guys anymore.”

Donnie nodded in acceptance of the explanation, but his brow was scrunched up in doubt as he pondered it. People were still using the Computery Guy! He and his friends were, at least. What reason did Smart Boy Industries have to not keep the replacement digital minds around, just in case?

“Anyway, how's the bonfire going?” Red asked, interrupting Donnie's train of thought.

“Good!” The boy replied. “But I think Crowe needs your help. He's having trouble getting the computer brain to melt like it should.”

Red switched off the television and stood up from his armchair, figuring whatever was going on out there was probably much more entertaining than the re-run rubbish being passed off as television. Watching the tall, hairy figure leave the living room, Donnie thought of a plan. A rather simple one, but a plan that wouldn't hurt to try- Though there was the risk of losing his pocket money for nothing.

 Donnie tore a piece of paper out of one of his empty scrapbooks and grabbed a green crayon. He thought for a moment about what to write, before putting the crayon to the paper and beginning his message.

Dear smart boy industrees

My name is Donnie and me and my friends have a computer guy. his name is Colin. his brain was broken and he needs a new one. May we please have a new computer brain for Colin?

From Donnie Gribbleston

The boy held up his letter and looked over it with a smile and a nod. He was sure this would do just fine, he just needed to figure out where to send it. 'Smart Boy Industries', he'd heard Red and Crowe mention a few times. Where had Donnie heard that name before, or rather, seen it? The printer, of course! The games room printer had 'Smart Boy Industries' written on the label on the back of it. He'd discovered that when he'd accidentally locked himself in the games room several months back and needed something to pass the time. He'd spent hours investigating the room's most easily overlooked details, before realising the games room door didn't even have a lock.

 However, despite his naivety and childlike foolishness, Donnie could be quite clever when he needed to be. After fixing a spelling error in his letter, he took the unoccupied laptop from the living room and opened it up. Searching up 'Smart Boy Industries' wielded a variety of results, such as the company's sketchy history, the range of products they didn't offer, and about a dozen product recall articles. One result, however, was the one Donnie was looking for. It was the company's website, and on it was a list of operating locations. Taking a note of the address of the nearest location, he closed up his work and put the laptop back in its resting spot before continuing with his plan. After shoving the creased scrapbook paper and a pocketful of pocket money into an empty envelope, the boy scrawled the address, along with his own, onto the back of it and headed outside.

 Crowe poked impatiently at the cartridge with a stick as flames flared up around it. Nasty crimson goo leaked from it, producing a horrible smell in the heat of the bonfire.

“It just won't burn!” The duck growled, smacking the offending object repeatedly with the stick in frustration.

“It's been in there for too long.” Red replied casually. “Maybe we should just call it quits and bury it, or throw it into the ocean.”

Just then, Donnie walked by with his bicycle, but his two friends didn't pay him too much mind.

“I'm just going to go post something.” He stated. “I'll be back soon!”

Red nodded and continued watching Crowe roll the digital mind around in the bonfire, inspecting it for any signs of fire damage.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 A few days later, a package arrived at the friends' front door. It was fairly small and had arrived entirely unexpected to Crowe, who had found it on the doormat. He cautiously picked it up in his feathered hands and inspected it, wondering what could possibly be inside, and from whom it had come. When he found the name of the sender, his eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and mild fear.

“Red?” Crowe called out. “Red, I think you should see this!”

Sensing a slight urgency in his friend's tone, Red made it to the front door fairly quickly, where he saw the duck holding a small package in his hands.

“Oh, who's it from?” Red asked, unperturbed.

“Smart Boy Industries!” Crowe replied.

Now Red could see why the duck seemed a little bit worried. Red had only recently been involved with anything relating to the company, and he wouldn't have thought they had even known about it, let alone cared. Perhaps they had caught wind of the attempted revival of perhaps the last remaining Computery Guy, and it was enough to elicit a response from them. He just hoped this package wasn't a bomb, or anything else malicious. Stranger still was who, specifically, the package was addressed to.

 “Donnie?” Red called out.

“Yeah?” The child's voice called back from another room in the house.

“There's something here addressed to you, some sort of package. What have you been doing?”

There was no verbal answer from Donnie, only the quick pattering of footsteps as he hurried over to the scene. When he saw the package, his face lit up with excitement.

“It worked!” He exclaimed. “It’s here!”

“What’s here?” Crowe asked sternly. “You haven’t been using Red’s credit card again, have you?”

Donnie snatched the package from Crowe’s hands and tore it open before the duck could protest. From the tightly-wrapped cardboard box he produced a styrofoam casing, and from the styrofoam casing he pulled out a very familiar-looking beige cartridge.

“Wait, is that…?” Red asked, his eyes wide in disbelief. “I thought we threw that into the ocean.”

“No, it’s a new one!” Donnie corrected.

“What?” Crowe squawked. “How did you get Smart Boy Industries to mail you a digital mind?!”

“I asked nicely.” Donnie replied with an innocent smile. “And I gave them my pocket money.”

“Never mind that.” Red spoke. “I just want to know if they actually sent us the real thing, or they’re just humouring us.”

 The games room door gently creaked open, revealing the somewhat familiar scene of Colin’s lifeless form resting upon the table. As lifeless as he was, that mild aura of unease remained. Red approached the computer with the cartridge in his hands, but hesitated to insert it. The cartridge looked just like the one he had pulled out of Colin several days back, but it seemed so much… Cleaner. There were no leaks or sticky residue. With noticeable apprehension, Red gently pulled the lid of the cartridge open, allowing himself and his friends to peer inside.

The contents of the cartridge were very different to what they had seen before. While Colin’s digital mind had been a mess of wires, boils, and mysterious fluids, this one was clean. It was simply a small pink brain-like mass wrapped in a teal wireframe. It was a real digital mind, just like the one Red had seen in those instruction manuals.

Red clicked the cartridge shut again, heeding Pillars Cloudfoot’s advice not to expose it for too long. Without another word, he inserted it into the back of Colin, where the previous digital mind had once resided, and turned to his friends.

“Well, I guess Pillars will be happy to hear that we-“

In the middle of the sentence, Colin abruptly began emitting a cheery chiptune song that nearly startled the three friends out of their skins. Red jumped back from the table, fearing the computer would grow aggressive once again.

However, once the cheery tune ended, Colin did not yell, or even speak. He opened and closed his eyes and mouth a few times, lifting his cord-like limbs and then resting them at his sides. His eyes shifted back and forth, observing the surroundings, before resting on Red and his friends.

 “Hello!” Colin greeted. “Thank you for choosing the Smart Boy Industries Computery Guy. My name is Colin, and I will be your guide into the digital world, a place of information and fun for the whole family! Before we begin, please enter your name. Then I will tell you some more about myself, and we can continue your registration of the Smart Boy Industries Computery Guy.”

Red, Donnie, and Crowe exchanged frightened glances. They hadn’t expected Colin to come to life again! Though they hadn’t expected him to reset, either. The computer that had once loathed and terrorised them was now happily introducing himself like a new acquaintance.

“Redmond Spaghett.” Red answered nervously.

“Hello, Edmond Spaghetti!” Colin greeted. “Is this name correct?”

“Wait, wh- No. It’s not.”

“Please repeat your name, or use my keyboard to type it in.” Colin suggested, pointing his blocky hand at the keyboard rested in front of him.

Red reached forward, hovering his furry hand over Colin’s colourful keys. The computer’s eyes were locked onto the hand, watching, waiting for him to begin typing. Red, however, decided not to risk it. Colin might have been reset, but he wasn’t ready to trust him again just yet.

“Redmond Great News Spaghett.” Red repeated clearly.

“Hello Edward Great News Smith!” Colin greeted again. “Is this name correct?”

“Yeah, Cloudfoot’s going to have a riot with this one.” Red muttered, turning to his friends.

“Great! Would you like to save this information before we continue, Mr Smith?” Colin asked.

Red shook his head and sighed at Colin’s misinterpretation of his words. He thought about responding once again, but he stopped himself, seeming lost in thought. After a lengthy moment of contemplation, Red spoke again.

“Actually, you don’t belong to me, or ‘Edward Smith’.” Red stated, reaching his arm around to the back of Colin

“I’m sorry, I do not understand.” Colin responded. “Please repeat your response, yes or no, or type ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with my keyb-“

Colin’s arms fell limp and his eyelids shut as Red pressed his power button. Now the computer was just as lifeless as he had been mere minutes ago, but functional.

 Crowe watched skeptically as Red slowly and shakily lowered Colin into the large cardboard box.

“I don’t understand.” The bird stated, scratching his head. “Mx. Cloudfoot would’ve paid goodness knows how much money for this… Thing, and you’re simply going to give it to them?”

“Yeah.” Red responded bluntly. “For good karma. Maybe if we do something kind we’ll get some peace from the you-know-what for a while. That, and I don’t want to wait for Pillars to get back, then go through all the price negotiations and whatever, to get rid of Colin.”

Crowe folded his arms and rolled his eyes as Donnie rocked back and forth restlessly beside him.

“I guess it’ll be a birthday present for them.” Red continued, filling the empty space around the computer with styrofoam beads. “I might throw a few birthday candles into the box too. Anyway, this has all just gotten too strange for me. I wanna get it over and done with, payment or no payment. For all I know Colin could still be, well, Colin, and I’m not the kind of person who makes people pay for things that are out to cause pain. Unlike whoever sold us that clock in the living room.”

Red sealed the box up and began labelling it with the address given on Pillars Cloudfoot’s website. As Donnie grew bored and left the room, Crowe hung his head somewhat dejectedly.

“You know what, Red?” He began with a sigh. “I think I might miss the old Colin a little. Sure, he may have been aggressive and incoherent at times, but he had personality, and that’s not something one gets from computers very often.”

Red finished packing and labelling the computer and turned to face the duck.

“Shut up, Crowe.”

[dosei-dreams]

;; kms :: mar

S/N : I cannot stress this enough. This is NOT a smut fic. what is written in this fic isn’t in any way meant to glamorize or sexualize any of the serious topics that are included here. if you are sensitive to any of the topics in this fic, please please please either read this with caution or don’t read it at all. I care more about your mental health and safety than anything. if you do decide to read, i hope you realize what i am trying to do with this.

National Domestic Violence Hotline

Genre/Warnings - Angst, Male R*pe/Non-Con,Stalking, Domestic Violence, Mental Disorder, S*icide Mentions ; Original Characters

Wordcount - 10.3k

Summary :: Amaya never thought she’d have to find her best friend like this. But when she did, she knew she had to help him through his trauma.

Mar :: Convalesce :: Replevin :: Apprehension :: Comprehension :: Exeunt 

AO3 Cross-Post

It was early in the afternoon when Amaya got a sudden call from her long time best friend, Hoseok. It wasn't really like him to call— he opted for texting instead— so she was a bit confused when she saw his name pop up on the caller ID of her phone. But she answered nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Amaya! Um… You don't mind if I crash at yours tonight, do you?”

Amaya could hear the hesitance in Hoseok's voice, telling her that the elder was either nervous or embarrassed about asking the question— like he always was.

“Of course, Hobi. You're always welcome at my place!”

She heard a relieved sigh crackle through the phone and then a small chuckle before Hoseok responded, “Oh, thank god… I really owe you one, Amaya.”

“Don't even mention it!” Amaya giggled to herself as she spoke to Hoseok, “I'll see you later tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.”

And with that, he hung up.

Amaya hummed to herself, finding it strange how Hoseok had spoken. The two of them had been best friends since high school; she knew Hoseok like the back of her hand. And she just knew that something was a bit off about what he had said, the way he had said it. She shrugged it off though, thinking that maybe Hoseok had gotten into another fight with Yerin, his long time girlfriend, for the second time that week.

Being friends for nearly fifteen years, Amaya knew everything about Hoseok. Hoseok was a naturally shy person, not being able to open up to people until he got to know them a little better. She and Hoseok were complete opposites, but that's what made the two of them the perfect pair. In high school, it didn't take that long for Amaya to become friends with him when they were freshmen. Even now, years later, they're as close as they were back then. Whenever Hoseok needed Amaya , she was there like his crutch; vice versa for Amaya. The two of them were inseparable.

That is, until Hoseok started dating Yerin.

Hoseok and Yerin had met their sophomore year of college. They seemed like the perfect couple to anyone who saw them— always smiling and laughing with each other, showing dubious amounts of affection toward each other. It was as if they were made for each other. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle; they were perfect for each other.

At first.

Somewhere along the way, Yerin had become fairly possessive of him, only wanting Hoseok to herself. It put a small gap in his and Amaya’s friendship, but she didn't really mind it. All she cared about was seeing Hoseok happy — and for the most part, he was. For the most part, Hoseok and Yerin were problem free, but over time, things got a little more hostile, more negative. The two would get into fights often, Hoseok calling Amaya and talking to her about it right after and then another argument happening because he was talking to her. It was a never ending cycle, and in the end, they compromised.

Amaya and Hoseok stopped talking as often— she'd been lucky to talk to him once a month— which seemed to please Yerin.

When Hoseok told Amaya that he wouldn't be able to talk to her as often, he sounded guilty, apologizing and telling Amaya that it wasn't because of her but because of how protective Yerin was of him.

Amaya herself wouldn’t have called it protective— maybe a different word— but nonetheless she told him that she didn't mind as long as he was happy, which she had thought he was. Besides, it wasn't like the two were never going to talk anymore. It didn't matter how often they talked to each other, Amaya and Hoseok were still going to be best friends no matter what. No matter how protective Yerin was, that wouldn’t change how close the two of them were.

Amaya didn’t know the exact date that Hoseok first asked to stay over at her place for the night, but it was around four months ago last spring. Of course, she obliged, happy that she would be able to see her friend after a long time of no physical communication. When he first came over, Amaya just thought he had gotten into a very heated argument with Yerin, and when she asked him about it, he just shrugged and told her:

"Something like that."

He'd always left in the morning, not even saying goodbye to Amaya. He left the guest room exactly how it was before he got there, bed perfectly made, curtains open and the small wardrobe containing some of his clothes neatly organized. The only thing that would actually indicate that he had even stayed the night was the note he would always leave on the bedside table.

thanks for letting me crash here tonight! i owe you one

-H :)

Today wasn't anything new, but it was definitely surprising. It was the second time Hoseok had asked to stay over this week— he had never asked to stay over so often. This would make it the fifth time he came over this month. It started to concern Amaya how often he was getting into fights with Yerin. To her, it was bordering toxic, but she didn't say anything about it. It wasn't her relationship, she had no say in what he did or didn't do, and Amaya thought that maybe it would all cool down in a while. Every good relationship had downfalls like this, right? Things will get better for them, they're just hitting a rough patch. Relationships like Hoseok and Yerin's always work out in the long run.

But what kind of relationship did Hoseok and Yerin actually have?

Amaya thought they had a fairly good relationship. It seemed like they loved each other whenever she saw them — his arm wrapped around her shoulders, the two of them nothing but smiles and heart eyes.

A picture perfect couple.

She didn't really understand what it was they could possibly have fought about, but again, it wasn't her relationship. She didn't know what went down behind closed doors.

Not yet, at least.

Knock Knock Knock

She went up to the front door, instantly greeted by Hoseok's heart shaped smile. He pulled her in for a quick hug (‘maybe a little too quick’, she thought to herself), a light chuckle coming from his lungs as he embraced her. He had missed Amaya, that was obvious. Even though they had seen each other earlier this week, Amaya had missed him too. It had been too long since she had actually seen Hoseok. The last time he came over, he hadn't left his room, so Amaya didn't really have time to actually talk to him.

"I brought jjajangmyeon. Extra pickled radish, just for you." Hoseok lifted up a black plastic bag containing food, Amaya’s favorite food to be exact. He gave her another smile before walking in and setting the bag down on the kitchen table. Amaya nodded and made her way over to the couch as he followed, the two of them falling down on it with loud sighs. Amaya outstretched her arms, resting them on the back of the couch and looked over at Hoseok.

"You get into another fight with Yerin?"

She waited for him to shrug

Hoseok shrugged giving Amaya a nervous— somewhat fearful— smile.

'Something like that.'

"Something like that."

Amaya nodded and pursed her lips, taking the TV remote and surfing the channels for a movie. As they tried to find a movie, talking to each other about what kind they wanted to watch for the night (Amaya voting for a horror film, while Hoseok chose a Disney), Hoseok's phone was buzzing nonstop against the armrest of the couch. Hoseok had tried to act as if he couldn't hear it, but it constantly went off.

Over and over and over again.

Amaya glanced at the screen of his phone and noticed they were all messages from Yerin, but she couldn't really see what they said. When it seemed as if the buzzing wasn't going to stop, Hoseok suddenly took the phone in his hand and stood up.

"I'm just gonna… I’m gonna put this in the room. Be right back."

He walked past Amaya to the guest room, opening the door and walking inside for a moment before coming back into the living room and sitting on the couch with a loud sigh. "Sorry about that..." Amaya shook her head at him, telling him it was no problem and going back to searching.

"So what's been going on? We didn't really get to talk the other day." Amaya didn't look at Hoseok when she asked the question, continuing to surf channels as she lazily sat back against the couch, trying to make the question sound as casual as possible. Hoseok chuckled nervously, trying to seem as if he were getting comfortable on the couch, but Amaya could tell he was tense. Though he was trying to relax, his body was stiff. Amaya didn't say anything about it though, letting him speak as she continued to surf through Netflix.

"I..." he sighed before continuing, "I don't know, Amaya. We've just been getting into a lot of fights. That's all."

She knew he was lying.

"Jung Hoseok." Amaya scolded him, finally prying her eyes away from the TV and looking at him. Hoseok smiled at her and laughed, holding out his hands in defense as if he knew she were going to smack his arm like she’s done many times before.

"I promise, Amaya! We've just been... disagreeing with each other lately. It's nothing serious, Amaya, I swear." He laughed again, this time a hint of nervousness laced around it, as if Amaya was going to catch on to his lie. Well, she already had, but she wasn't going to press him any further. Amaya just nodded and looked back at the TV, finally finding a movie that the two of them could watch.

Amaya stood back up and walked over to the kitchen table, taking the two bowls of jjajangmyeon out of the bag along with the large container of pickled radish. She mixed the noodles and took them back to the couch, handing Hoseok one of the bowls and sitting back down on the couch, eating silently as the two of them watched the movie. Even as he ate, something seemed off about Hoseok to her. Yes he was looking at the TV, but it didn't really look like he was watching the movie. As Amaya stared at him from the corners of her eyes, she noticed that he was deep in thought, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth moving very slowly as he ate. He hadn't even noticed that she was now looking straight at him. Amaya was looking at his expression at first, but eventually, something peeking from under his shorts quickly caught her attention, it's deep purple and blue hue enveloped by a grotesque yellow border.

Was that a...

Amaya looked back at Hoseok's face, concern completely spread across her own, and she reached her hand out to lightly touch his arm. She were about to ask him what was really going on, but what Amaya was about to say caught in her throat when Hoseok flinched with wide eyes, scooting further away from her on the couch when she finally broke him out of his trance. He smiled at her briefly, hoping she hadn’t seen his reaction to her touching him, before looking back at the TV.

"Hoseok..." Amaya started. Her voice was quiet as she looked at him with a mixture of concern and fear for what may actually be happening to him. "What's going on with you and Yerin? Are you okay?"

"It's nothing..." he barely whispered to her before looking at her with a fake smile. "It's really nothing, Amaya. Promise!"

"Then what's that on your thigh?" she pointed at the purple mark on the side of Hoseok's thigh, not even pretending not to notice it anymore. Hoseok tried to play it off, giving Amaya a smile as he shook his head.

"I just bumped it on the coffee table back at home. Don't worry about it, Amaya!" he chuckled nervously and gave her another fake smile while trying to pull the hem of his shorts down further and covering his thigh. "Let's just go back to watching the movie, okay?" He shifted his gaze back to the TV, stealing glances at Amaya a few times until she stopped staring at him, going back to watching the movie and eating her food.

Amaya thought about it for a while. Maybe she was blowing it all out of proportion. Maybe they were just getting into a lot of fights. There was a possibility that he could actually have just bumped his thigh on the coffee table, he had always been a bit of a clumsy person. That was it, she thought. Amaya’s thoughts calmed down her assumptions as she stared at the TV.

Like a good friend (or maybe like a naive idiot), she believed him.

After the movie finished, Hoseok told Amaya that he was tired, saying that he had a long day at work and that the fight he had with Yerin had also exhausted him. Of course, Amaya had told him okay and left him at that, going into her own room to get some sleep since she had to work the early shift the next morning. They told each other their good nights and went into their respective rooms, Hoseok closing the door and leaning back against it as he ran his hands through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

He could hear that his phone was still buzzing against the mattress.

He sighed as he walked over to the phone and checked his messages. He had over 300 messages, 50 missed calls, and 10 voicemails from Yerin. He deleted the voicemails, not wanting to hear her voice at the moment, but he checked a few of the messages, his face dropping when he did.

Yerin: Hobi

Yerin: Love

Yerin: Where did you go?

Yerin: You're with Amaya, aren't you?

Yerin: Of course you are

Yerin: You fucking whore

Yerin: Ignoring my messages???

Yerin: Just wait til you get home.

Yerin: You're gonna get it

Hoseok felt dread wash over him as he read Yerin's messages. He didn't want to go home now, knowing that if he did, he'd just have to deal with her and whatever she has in store for him. He turned off his phone and set it down on the bedside table, falling onto the bed and forcing himself to sleep.

Hoseok wanted to sleep to relax— to get things like this off of his mind, but all it did was amplify the problem. When he slept, images of Yerin popped into his head, infiltrating the one place he thought he could be away from her. It’s safe to say that his sleep wasn’t a restful one, and he woke up feeling worse than he did before he went to bed.

Hoseok checked the time— 11 AM. He knew that Amaya was most likely gone by now, probably going off to work a few hours earlier. He wanted to stay at her place for a little while longer. Another day wouldn’t hurt, right? He

Hoseok sighed to himself and got out of the bed, making it neat again and shuffling out of his room to the  bathroom right across from it.

He looked at himself in the mirror—  deep bags under his eyes, a tired frown across his face. The sight of himself he was seeing only made him want to hang his head in shame.

Pathetic.

He stood there for a moment before lifting himself upright and walking toward the shower. Turning the water on, watching the steam accumulate in the air, the feeling was somewhat suffocating to Hoseok. The air was becoming too thick for him, and his mind made it seem like his throat was closing, restricting any air from coming through. He took a deep breath just to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Once he took off his shirt, Hoseok immediately started to hate himself more as he stared down at his torso, the splashes of purple and yellow and blue spread all across it. He ran his hand across the colors gently, wincing slightly when skin made contact with skin. He hated the colors, the ugly, sickening hue they gave his body.

He hated himself.

He took a shower that morning, hoping that the dirty colors would be washed away with the water.

Unfortunately, they didn’t go away.

Hoseok ate in silence at the kitchen table, chewing slowly as he was deep in thought. Maybe he could just... break up with Yerin. Yeah. Maybe he could do that if she let him.

If she let him.

There were multiple occasions where Hoseok had tried to break up with Yerin, telling her he didn't feel anything for her anymore. It was no hard feelings, really. Just a college relationship gone dry. But every time Hoseok tried to end things, Yerin would do whatever she could to make him stay— some things more sinister than others. But maybe this time she would let him leave.

If she let him

He doubted that would happen, but a man could dream.

Hoseok stayed in his room for the rest of the day— sleeping, waking up, rinsing and repeating— coming back out at around 10 PM. He tidied the room back up, making the bed again and leaving a note on the bedside table thanking Amaya for letting him stay over, like he always did.

When he walked out of the room, Amaya was in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her eyes looked tired, exhausted as if she were going to fall asleep at any given moment, but they perked open a bit wider in surprise when she saw Hoseok walk past her, not really knowing that he would still be there. Not expecting him to still be there. But Amaya played it off as if she wasn't surprised and just raised an eyebrow at him. "You going home?"

"Uh, yeah." He stopped at the front door and looked at her with a soft smile. "I'm gonna talk it out with her, try to make things a little better between us, you know?"

Amaya hummed and nodded at him, understanding what he was saying somewhat.

"What's a relationship for if you can't get through hard times?"

"Yeah..." She took a sip of her coffee as she looked at him, his smile beginning to waver. There was a deafening silence between the two of them that seemed to last a lifetime until Hoseok put his hand around the doorknob.

"Well, I'm just gonna.. I'm gonna go now... See you later, Amaya."

"See you later..."

He gently closed the door behind him, leaving Amaya wondering as he got in his car and drove off.

The drive home was silent, only the sound of the wind whirring through the crack between the window and the car door. Hoseok invited the noise with ease, thankful that the high pitched sound was loud enough to drown out his roaming thoughts— thoughts that had been screaming at him ever since he had woken up. Even if it were just for a moment, Hoseok wanted his mind to be cleared before he had to go home. He wanted to think about anything other than what might happen when he would have to confront Yerin. He just wanted to be calm.

The ride home wasn't long enough.

He was parked in the parking lot, only a few feet away from the place he called home— the place with her. Only a few feet away, but he wished he were thousands, millions of miles further. His hands were sweaty against the steering wheel, breathing shallow, stomach churning.

He stared up at their shared apartment, seeing the light through the window of their living room. He knew what it meant, and it only made him more anxious. He took a deep breath and took the key out of ignition.

Once he got out, he walked as if he were striding through molasses and prayed that the path to their front door would grow longer with each step he took. But it didn't, and eventually, he was at the door. Before he could even bring his hand up to the doorknob, the door opened and he was met with Yerin's small figure.

"Hi, Hobi."

Her voice was saccharine and laced with trace amounts of poison when she spoke to Hoseok. He knew that the sweetness in her voice was merely a facade, though.

He knew he had to play her game now.

"Hey, babe. I.. I missed you" he hesitated for a second, but he gave her a fake smile and walked inside, hoping she didn't notice his hesitation. He went into the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet above the stove and pouring himself some water— testing the waters, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be off the hook this once. Slowly, he put the glass up to his lips, but it fell from his hand, falling on the ground and the water staining his legs and feet as he gasped out in pain.

The feeling of Yerin's arms wrapping around his waist, her hands pressing hard against his torso,  was unbearable. The dull pain made his body shake, his breathing shorten. He clenched his fists, digging his fingernails into his palms as he stammered out through gritted teeth. "Y-Yerin..."

"Where were you, hm?" She calmly asked him. "Were you at Amaya's place?" Hoseok stayed silent, not looking at Yerin as he endured the pain shooting through his whole body. His short breaths were beginning to shake as she added more pressure, trying to push him to the edge. "I asked you a question, Hobi."

Hoseok groaned in pain, gritting his teeth even harder than he already had been as he hung his head down.

"Ye… Y-yes..."

"Hmmm..." Yerin applied more pressure to Hoseok's middle, causing the male to audibly cry out, tears starting to spring up in the corners of his eyes from the pain. She exhaled, looking up at Hoseok from his side with a light pout, her head tilted slightly. "You know how i feel about you going there, yet you were at Amaya's place. For two days... and that wasn't even the first time this week that you went over there... Tell me, Baby." she squinted her eyes at Hoseok, smile fading and her grip tightening on Hoseok like a vice.

"Did you fuck Amaya?"

"No!"

Hoseok tried to make his voice sound stern and unwavering, but it squeaked out, sounding unsure and as if he were lying. "I-I... I didn't fuck Amaya. I swear."

"I don't believe you." Yerin loosened her grip on Hoseok, slipping her ice-like hands under his shirt and running her fingers across the three colored skin. the feeling made him shiver, the hairs on the nape of his neck beginning to raise in a sick anticipation for what was to happen next.

Hoseok cried out at the feeling of Yerin digging her fingertips into the skin of his abdomen, the tears that had gathered in his eyes beginning to fall uncontrollably.

"I bet you had fun, whoring around with Amaya" she harshly dragged her fingers along Hoseok's skin, letting her fingernails scratch him until she could feel welts form.

Hoseok took hold of her hands, whimpering as he did.

"Please… p-please stop..."

Yerin pouted as she looked at his face, noticing the streaks along his flushed cheeks.

"Are you crying?"

her voice was sweet as she spoke to Hoseok. So sweet that he would think she were trying to comfort him if she weren't the one causing his pain. "Fucking pathetic. No one's ever going to want a weak bitch like you. You call yourself a man?"

The juxtaposition of Yerin's voice and her words made Hoseok's head hurt, having him hang his head down as individual tears began to splash onto the hardwood of their kitchen floor.

"You're lucky even I tolerate you." She sighed in annoyance as she let go of Hoseok, taking a step back as he wiped his eyes and looked over at her. "Strip."

Hoseok's eyes widened at her demand "I... What?"

"Did I stutter?" the sweetness in her voice was gone, all that's left being bitter venom that made Hoseok's stomach drop. "I said, Strip."

Hoseok shuddered at the harshness of her voice, it booming and echoing in his ears as his breath caught in his throat. "I-" his voice was quiet, scared and unconfident. He was hesitating, mostly stalling so he wouldn't have to take his clothes off in front of Yerin, so he wouldn't have to see his bruises and the welts she had left on him. "I don't want to..."

"Did I ask what you wanted? I don't think I did." Yerin leaned against the kitchen table with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not going to tell you again, Hobi."

Hoseok shakily exhaled, bringing his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. He felt cold once he took it off, covering his middle with his arms as he looked down at his feet.

"The rest."

Hoseok felt dirty, disgusting as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down along with his underwear. He was completely bare in front of Yerin, covering below his waist with his hands. He was in his most vulnerable state in front of her, everything out for her to see.

It didn't feel right. Hoseok didn't like how his eyes kept watering as he stood naked in their kitchen. He hung his head back down as he stood still, every hum and murmur coming from Yerin amplified in his ears as he feared what she would make him do next.

The held back hiccups and sobs burned at his throat, trying desperately to come out as tears hit his feet.

He hated this; this isn't what he's supposed to feel like whenever he's with Yerin. He's not supposed to be afraid of his girlfriend, someone he should love unconditionally and share happy moments with. A whimper unconsciously escaped his lips as he kept his head down, his tears falling freely again as he spoke.

"I'm sorry..."

"You're sorry?” Yerin straightened herself from the table, taking slow strides closer to Hoseok. “Sorry for what, Hobi?” She tilted her head as she looked at Hoseok's abdomen, the red marks her fingertips created becoming more prominent on his skin. They felt warm as she glided the pads of her fingers across them, bringing her hand down to Hoseok's and moving them away from his center. She gripped him tightly with her free hand, causing Hoseok to yelp in pain as his whole body tensed up. "Sorry for being a slut? For not telling me where you fucking went so you could let Amaya play with your cock?" She looked up at him, smirking at the tears that were streaming down his cheeks as he looked up at the ceiling, trying his hardest to endure the pain. Hoseok was breathing heavily, tiny whimpers coming from his throat as Yerin tightened her grip more and more as each second passed.

"I... didn't let-"

"Sure you did, Hobi." Yerin squeezed tighter. "Why else would you not tell me where you had gone, Hm? Just tell me the truth."

Hoseok groaned loudly as the pain became too much to bear. "I didn't fuck Amaya!" his voice was hoarse as he spoke out to Yerin, finally looking down at her with wet eyes and a terrified expression. "I didn't even touch Amaya… She’s...  I-I swear... I swear I didn't..."

Yerin pursed her lips and nodded, letting go of Hoseok and taking a step back. "Still lying to me? I see how it is..." She looked him up and down, a disgusted expression spread across her face as she stared at his bruised body. "Go in the bedroom and wait for me in there."

Hoseok was hesitant to move, his hands going back down to cover himself as he stood before Yerin. The cold air that surrounded him gave him goosebumps, chilling his spine and rendering him stiff, immobile.

"Hoseok. Go in the bedroom right now."

He didn't want to go. He knew he didn't want to go, but Hoseok's legs deceived him as he made his way to their bedroom.

The bed dipped from the pressure of his body weight. His heart was pounding in his chest; he could've sworn that anyone within a ten foot radius would be able to heart the loud thrumming that was coming from Hoseok's body. Sweat from his hands was beginning to stain the dull purple sheets of the bed as he sat, each second that whisked by feeling like a lifetime. Eventually he could hear a soft voice swimming through the halls of the apartment, bouncing off the walls and dancing with his eardrums.

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

killing me softly with his song…

It was the song.

It was their song.

It was a song that used to harbor so much love in Hoseok's heart, so much happiness. It was the song he and Yerin first kissed to, the song they first made love to, the song he initially wanted playing when he proposed to Yerin.

Now, that song— a song that would soothe him to sleep if need be, would calm him when he was at his angriest, their song— only made a drowning fear wash over Hoseok and told him one thing.

He was to be punished.

The light tap tap tap of Yerin's feet padding across the hall as she walked closer and closer to their bedroom made Hoseok want to scream and hide away. He wanted to be anywhere but where he was now 'I wish I had stayed at Amaya's', he thought, but he knew if he had stayed any longer it would've just gotten worse, he would've had more purple and yellow marks on more than just his torso. He just knew it, so maybe it was for the best that he had come back when he did.

Yerin walked inside their room with a large candle, two long lengths of rope and a black strip of fabric.

"Hobi, love. Sit back against the headboard."

Hoseok swallowed harshly as he peered up at Yerin. He found it pathetic how he saw someone with a figure like hers, someone as dainty and petite as her to where Hoseok actually towered over her, as terrifying as he did. That was it. He was terrified of Yerin, his girlfriend, beyond belief. He thought it was damn near laughable. What would people think of him if they knew he was scared of someone smaller than him— that he was being hurt like this by someone who was physically weaker than him? It's exactly as Yerin said it was.

It was fucking pathetic.

He scooted himself back against the headboard, the cold wood making him wince and shudder as he pressed his bare back against it.

Yerin slung one of the ropes over her shoulder, stretching out the other and grabbing hold of Hoseok's arm. She pinned it up to the frame of the headboard, making sure his wrist was flush with the wood before tying the rope tightly around his wrist and forearm, nearly cutting off circulation.

Hoseok said nothing as this happened to him. The rope cut into his skin, making it known to him that Yerin wanted there to be marks left on his wrists by the end of the night.

As she moved onto the next arm, so many thoughts and silent questions roamed through his mind. How did he get in this position, being scared to come home because he didn't want to get hurt? When did their relationship shift from cute pet names and loving kisses that lingered to degrading, hurtful insults directed toward him and bruises so bad that they lasted for weeks at a time? When did the cute pet name, 'Hobi', develop such a hateful edge to it whenever it left Yerin's lips?

What had he done to deserve this?

He had to have done something to make her so angry in the first place; there's no way she'd have done something so vile, so foul, so sinister, unprovoked. No, he had to have done something. That was the only explanation. It was his fault, and if it was his fault, then he must have deserved it.

Suddenly everything was black. He couldn't see anything as Yerin covered his face with the strip of fabric. "Y-Yerin... I d-don't want it. please..." Hoseok pleaded with her, already beginning to struggle in his binds. He hated being blindfolded. He absolutely despised it because he was left completely vulnerable to whatever Yerin was planning on doing to him. He wouldn't be able to brace himself for whatever act she would put upon him. He could only wait and pray that it was nothing too severe.

"That's too bad, love. You should have thought about that before you lied to me."

"But... I didn't lie..." Hoseok heard the striking of a match, smelling the phosphorus as the fire burned on the tip. The soft crackling of the candle wick popped in his ears and he began to tense up, his breathing becoming short and shallow as he knew what was going to happen next. "I swear! I didn't lie to you... please, I'm sorry! I didn't lie."

"You keep saying that," her poisonous honey voice was right in the shell of his ear and he flinched, He could feel her hot breath against him, she was in such close proximity. "But I still don't believe you."

Drip.

Hoseok cried out in pain, arching his back and once again trying to free himself from his restraints when the first drop of hot candle wax fell onto his thigh. It was a searing pain, one that lingered for far too long for him to bear, and he couldn't control the whimpers and sobs that ripped through his throat. "Besides..." Yerin continued, letting another drop of wax fall onto a random part of his body and causing him to cry out again, his muscles tensing as he tried to endure the pain. "Why would I believe a whore like you? Hm?" Another drop, another yelp and sob, another tug at the ropes that wouldn't budge. "All whores lie. Especially the one in front of me right now."

"I'M SORRY!" Hoseok began screaming, not being able to handle it anymore. His blindfold was soaked with his tears, stuck to his face as he cried. "I'M SORRY! PLEASE... I'M SO SORRY!" His wrists were beginning to bleed with how hard he tugged and tried and failed to break free from the ropes. "PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I'M SO SORRY, PLEASE!" He didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, but the two words fell from his mouth like a mantra as Yerin kept dropping wax on his body; drop after agonizing drop his screams grew louder and louder.

"Please... I'm sorry. I'm sorry.. I- Fuck...I'm so sorry... Please..."

"What are you sorry for, Hobi?" Yerin's voice was a soft whisper.

Hoseok was basically wailing at this point, drops of blood falling from his wrists and staining the bed sheets, sweat beading across his chest and forehead and his breaths becoming labored and sporadic, tears staining the blindfold and beginning to stream down his cheeks. His throat was beginning to sting already from how hard he was screaming. This was too much.

All of this was too much for Hoseok.

"Sorry for not telling me where you were for two days? Sorry for going over to Amaya's even when i told you not to? For being a fucking slut and fucking Amaya like the disgusting whore you are? Hm? Is that what you're sorry for?"

"Yes!" Hoseok cried out, shaking vigorously and pulling against his binds again, not caring that his wrists were bleeding.

He just wanted it to end.

He just wanted to get out.

"Yes, all of it! I'm sorry! I swear to God I’m so fucking sorry!" He was saying what she wanted to hear. He was desperate; he only wanted to be untied, let out so he could hide away again, so he could pretend none of this happened again. "I'm Sorry... Please stop now! I promise I'll be good, please!"

"I don't know, Hobi." Yerin huffed as she poured a large amount of melted wax onto his abdomen, causing Hoseok to throw his head back and scream painfully, it coming out choked and slowly turning into a high pitched whimper as he hit his head against the headboard and a vein protruded from his temple. "What's to say you won't go running back to Amaya? What's to say you won't find someone else to whore around with?"

"I won't, I swear... Just- Please..." Hoseok was begging, pleading with Yerin to stop the pain she was causing him. "I promise I'll be good... I promise..." his throat was hoarse from his screams and sobs; he couldn't take anymore. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out from the pain, his blindfold beginning to feel cold from how wet it was with his tears and his wrists going numb from how hard he tugged at them. He knew it wasn't over yet. He just knew she wasn't finished with her torment. "Yerin, please... stop..."

"Open wide for me, love."

He could feel Yerin's fingertips on either of his cheeks, trying to open his mouth forcefully, but he tried his damnedest to keep his lips sealed shut, attempting to shake his head away from her grip.

"Did you fucking hear me? I said, Open!" She squeezed hard on his cheeks, causing him to cry out and his mouth to open involuntarily as she placed a small pill in his mouth. "Now swallow it before I make you."

Hoseok did as he was told, unable to win the battle at this point. It was quiet at this point other than the one song playing on repeat in the background. But eventually he felt something; he knew exactly what was happening.

Yerin began to latch onto Hoseok, taking him in her hands as he began panting in panic.

"N-no." he pleaded with her. "I don't want to... p-please." he shook his head as he felt her hover above him, beginning to sob again when she fell onto him.

"Oh, love." she took hold of Hoseok's shoulders as she whispered in his ear. "How else are you supposed to learn your lesson? Hm?" She began to rock her hips against him harshly, grunting as she dug her fingernails into his skin. "How else am I supposed to punish a dirty fucking whore like you?"

"N-NO!" he screamed out tugging at the ropes again. He didn't care if he bled anymore. He just wanted this to stop, he just wanted to end his suffering and run somewhere else."PLEASE STOP! I-I'LL BE GOOD! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!"

"You're too loud!" Yerin brought her hand up to Hoseok's mouth, muffling his screams and cries as she continued to use him much to his dismay. "You want the whole town to hear how much of a slut you are? I bet you fucking do."

Hoseok was still screaming behind her hand, begging for her to stop, constantly apologizing and telling her that he'll be good.

anything to get her to stop.

He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted it to finally be over. He continued to scream until she was frozen on top of him.

She was lightly panting in pleasure

He was hyperventilating from the pain and the fear.

She removed herself from him, her feet padding against the floor as he heard a door quietly creak open and shut.

Hoseok could hear the water running from behind the door, telling him that she was now taking a shower.

It was still pitch black for him, the blindfold still secure on his face. The numbness of the ropes against his wrists began to wear off now, only the sting of the nylon digging into his raw flesh. He was cold, shaking as he sat on the bed and his breathing weak and labored. He was a broken, crying mess while Yerin was calmly taking a shower. The water was still running as silent tears began to stream down his face, falling from his chin and dropping onto his burning thighs. He felt dirty, disgusting, like a whore. He felt exactly like Yerin told him he was.

Because to him, now he was.

The water stopped and he slowly lifted his head as the door opened. He took a deep breath, a sense of relief washing over him as he thought he was going to be untied now, that he was going to be able to clean himself and forget this ever happened.

"Yerin..."

His relief quickly shifted to dread as he heard the padding of footsteps get further and further away from him, eventually hearing the sound of the front door opening and closing.

He was still tied up; he was still blindfolded. He was still vulnerable in their bed.

She had abandoned him.

Hoseok dropped his head and began to silently sob, the only sound emitting through the apartment being his soft hiccups and the sweet words of Roberta Flack

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song...

Before nothing could be heard anymore, and Hoseok blacked out.

He didn't know what time it was when he came to; it felt stuffy in the bedroom, like he couldn't breathe. His voice was hoarse, his throat burning with every shallow breath he took. he tried to get up from the bed, but he wasn't able to move. Confusion spread across his face as he tried again until it dawned on him. it was still pitch black, the music was still playing; the sting on his wrists were still there as they were forcibly held up against the headboard.

Yerin hadn't come back and freed him from his restraints.

Panic settled over him as he realized that he was left alone for God knows how long, and God knows how long she intends to leave him here as a punishment. He dropped his head, tears beginning to well again in his covered eyes.

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just stay like this until Yerin came back— whenever that would be. No, he had to get out. There was only one thing he could do. His breaths were weak, he knew he could pass out again at any moment, it was now or never. Who knew what Yerin would do to him next if she came back, when she came back.

"S-Siri..."

He heard the familiar beeping of his phone nearby, sighing in relief as he thanked God in his head that he set his phone up to listen to voice commands. It took a few moments before he heard the automated voice greeting him happily, unknowing of his current situation.

"Hi, Hoseok! How can I help you today?"

Hoseok took a deep, shaky breath as he gathered his jumbled thoughts, his arms beginning to burn from being held up for so long, the skin on his thighs and abdomen stinging underneath the now hardened drops of candle wax. He lifted his head up, taking another breath as he called out to his phone again.

"Call... Call Amaya..."

Hoseok's call was what woke Amaya up that morning. It was far too early for her to be woken up; she was cranky as she checked her phone to see who the hell was calling her at 3 AM. The brightness of Amaya’s phone screen slightly burned her eyes, but she endured it when she noticed Hoseok's name on the caller ID. It was weird, when Amaya thought about it. It wasn't like him to call her at all let alone so early in the morning. Nonetheless, Amaya pressed answer and put the phone up to her ear, taking a sleepy breath before speaking.

"Hobiii, It's three in the morning... what's wrong?"

It was silent on the other end other than faint music that seemed to be far away from his phone. Amaya was confused, waiting a moment before saying anything else. It was too silent, Hoseok wouldn't have called her if he didn't need anything. She was close to speaking again before she heard a soft whimper.

"A...A-Amaya..."

"Hoseok?" Amaya sat up in her bed when she heard his voice, shocked by how high pitched and strained it was. "Hoseok, what's wrong? What happened?" There was a shaky breath, another whimper, a choked sob, before Amaya heard his voice. It sounded as if he were in pain, nothing that she was used to hearing; it was like a completely different person was on the other as she listened, his voice soft, desperate and scared.

“Amaya please… Help me…” He whimpered. His breathing became more labored the more he spoke, she could hear it. It was painful to listen to him through the phone. Amaya jumped out of her bed, landing on her feet as he continued to speak. “Please… before she comes back…”

“I’m coming, Hoseok. Don’t worry. I’m on my way right now.” Amaya was nervously rambling as she grabbed her keys, running down the hall to the front door. She was barefoot, only wearing a thin tank top and sleep shorts as she ran out to her car. It was freezing outside, the cold air stinging Amaya’s skin, but she didn’t care, hopping into her car and starting it as she stayed on the phone with Hoseok. “Stay on the phone with me, Hoseok. I’m on my way— just don’t hang up okay?”

Amaya’s voice was beginning to shake. She had no idea what was going on, not really, but she sped to Hoseok’s house. He sounded like he was dying, maybe he was; she didn’t know, and that’s what terrified her. “Just keep talking to me, okay?”

“I… I’m sorry… I-I lied to you…”

“Don’t worry about that right now, Hoseok. That doesn’t matter at the moment.” she assured him.

“I’m a whore… I lied… I’m s-sorry…”

“No, Hoseok. You’re not-… You’re not a whore, Hoseok. You’re going to be okay, just… just keep talking to me okay. Tell me what you can see.”

“I-I can’t see anything…” He began sobbing, his soft hiccups running through Amaya’s ears, causing tears of her own to sting in the corners of her eyes. “She blindfolded me… I can’t see anything…”

“That’s okay, don’t worry. I’m almost there, just tell me what you can hear.”

“I hear…” Hoseok’s voice faded, Amaya only heard silence on the other end. it scared her, her eyes widening as she drove faster to his apartment.

“Hoseok! keep talking to me, okay? I’m just few minutes away, just keep talking to me, okay? What do you hear?”

“I hear music…” He groaned out. “I-it’s our song, Amaya. It’s me and Yerin’s song.”

“Where’s Yerin right now? Is she still there?”

“She left me here.” He whispered. Amaya could hear sniffling and quiet sobs as he spoke to her. Hoseok sounded completely broken. “I-I passed out… I don’t know how long it’s been… please just hurry, Amaya.”

That was all that he said, repeatedly apologizing and asking, begging, pleading with her to help him. It broke Amaya’s heart as she drove. Her hands were sweaty against the steering wheel and she drove like a maniac, trying to get to her best friend in the fastest way possible. Once she was in the parking lot, right outside of his apartment, Amaya screeched to a stop. “I’m Here, Hoseok. Here I come.”

“Please hurry…”

Amaya hung up her phone, quickly unbuckling her seatbelt and running out of the car to his front door. She was about to knock, but she noticed the door was open a crack. Her hand slowly dropped lower; she pushed the door open, the dim lights of the kitchen lamp emitting through the whole room. Amaya slowly walked in, inspecting her surroundings.

There was shattered glass in the kitchen, water splashed everywhere. Hoseok’s clothes were on the ground, a messy pile in the kitchen, and there was music playing softly throughout the whole apartment. Just like Hoseok had said, it was the song that He and Yerin grew to love together— Killing Me Softly. Overpassing the music was soft sobs. Amaya’s head jerked in the direction the sobs were coming from, her feet moving on their own to Hoseok’s room.

The door was wide open, and Amaya could see him clearly. She brought a hand up to her mouth, a silent gasp coming from her lips as she saw his state, tears beginning to well in her eyes at the sight.

He was naked, His wrists tied against the headboard of his bed and his eyes covered with a black blindfold. His body was covered in a deep purple wax. It was everywhere— his thighs, his abdomen, his shoulders, his arms. everywhere— and his wrists were bleeding, the blood dropping onto his sheets and his skin. All over his body were large bruises, mostly on his torso. assorted grotesque colors of yellow, purple, blue, black and red. It was difficult to look at, too much for one person to take in.

Amaya slowly walked closer to him, bringing her hand up to his face to undo his blindfold, but when she made contact with his skin, he flinched, a terrified yelp ripping through his lungs.

“Please, Yerin I’m sorry! No more, I’ll be good, I promise! Please!”

“Hoseok, It’s me!” she gently gripped onto his shoulders, he was shaking vigorously, hyperventilating to the feeling of her touch. “It’s me, Hoseok; It’s Amaya!”

“Amaya…”

His panicked breaths began to slow as he listened to Amaya’s voice, the soft voice she was using to soothe him. “It’s okay, You’re okay.” Amaya slowly brought her hands to the back of his head, untying his blindfold and pulling it away from his face. She gave him a warm smile as he looked at her with wide eyes. “See? It’s just me, okay?”

Hoseok nodded, tears beginning to stream down his face as she started to untie the ropes from around his wrists. He winced as she took them off, the nylon fibres still digging deeply into his skin, staying silent as Amaya told him comforting words.

“I’m here now, you’re okay. It’s gonna be alright; we’re going home, okay?” As the last ropes fell from his wrist, Amaya grabbed a blanket from the side of the bed and covered Hoseok’s waist with it. He sat silently, tears dropping onto the blanket as Amaya went back into the kitchen, being mindful of the broken glass, and gathered his clothes.

“You don’t have to put everything on if you don’t want to.” she told him as she handed him his clothes. He silently nodded, still looking down at his covered thighs. Amaya noticed this and gently rested her hand on his knee, causing Hoseok to look up at her with wet eyes.

“It’s okay, Hoseok.”

“It’s not okay…” he whispered, sniffing and bringing a hand up to his face, wiping his eyes a few times. Amaya could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at her. “I don’t know what I did…”

“Nothing you did could be justification to this, Hoseok. You know that.” she cupped his face with a single hand, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb. “Come on, we’re going to my place.”

Hoseok slowly nodded and let Amaya help him out of the bed. He covered himself with the blanket, following her out the apartment and into the car.

Hoseok was silent in the back seat, lying down and staring blankly at the back of the front seat. Amaya didn’t say anything either, what exactly could she say? She’s still in the dark as to what happened to him, how he ended up in that position.

Thinking back onto when she first had seen him not too long ago, in his most vulnerable state, it made tears begin to bead and fall from her eyes. It was a horrible image, something Amaya never thought she’d have to see in her lifetime, and definitely not a position she thought she would see Hoseok in. If seeing it was this overwhelming for her, she could only imagine how horrible, how traumatized Hoseok was feeling right now.

The two of them were silent in Amaya’s car, only the engine whirring, the thump thump of her heartbeat, the quiet hiccups and sniffles from the backseat, the gritting of her teeth, filling her ears.

The ride home seemed extra long, every road Amaya turned feeling elongated, stretched out so that they would stay on the road for longer. She heard Hoseok take a deep breath; looking at him through her rearview mirror, she could see in his face, how broken he actually was.

What had Yerin done to him? That was the only question running at full speed through Amaya’s brain. What had Yerin done to him to make him feel like this? She wanted to know, needed to know, but at the same time, Amaya just wanted to help him through this. She wanted to be able to be there for him through everything, like she’s always been, but how could she help him through this?

This was something Amaya’s never dealt with before, something she never thought she’d have to deal with. This wasn’t something Hoseok thought he’d have to deal with, but he was. He was dealing with it all and Amaya was going to be there to help him, to comfort him in any way he needed. That was the least she could do. It was the only thing she could do.

Amaya couldn’t tell him that it was okay, because it wasn’t. She couldn’t tell him that it would get better, she didn’t know if it would. The only thing she could do was be there with him as he went through the motions. Amaya could only do whatever she could to let him know that this, none of what happened to him— though she knew so little of what happened in his apartment— was his fault.

And that’s what she was going to do.

Hoseok was sitting silently on Amaya’s couch, still covered with the blanket as he waited for her, Amaya searching in her bathroom for the first aid kit, pulling it from under her sink and walking back out of the bathroom to the living room.

She crouched in front of him on the couch, holding her hand out to him.

He slowly gave Amaya his hand, letting her take it gently in her fingertips as she applied peroxide to his wrists. Hoseok winced slightly, but said nothing as she tended to his wounds, wrapping bandages around his wrists quietly, paying close attention to the bloody marks.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Hoseok slowly shook his head, looking at Amaya as she continued to clean his wrists, wiping the dried blood from his skin.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” she calmly told him, moving onto the other arm and wiping it clean before putting on more bandages. “Just know that you’re safe here, okay?” Hoseok hesitated, but nodded, dropping his arms to his sides once she finished. “It’s okay if i help you take the wax off, right?”

Hoseok thought about it for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek and looking down at his thighs before nodding slowly. Amaya nodded back and stood up, going to her kitchen to grab a washcloth and wetting it with warm water before coming back and sitting down beside him.

He removed the blanket from his top half, letting her place the wet cloth onto his arms as the wax warmed up and became easier to remove. Amaya was careful as she pulled the wax off, trying not to hurt him in any way as she did this. Underneath the wax were deep red marks that were sure to be burns from the wax being too hot against his skin. After each hardened drop she removed, Amaya placed the cloth over the irritated skin to soothe the sting it gave him when the air made contact with his sensitive flesh. Drop after drop, it overwhelmed her more and more as she removed them, wondering how long he had been put under this torture for.

The two of them were silent as Amaya cared for him— for Hoseok, understandably so. For Amaya? She didn't know why exactly she were silent. There were a lot of different reasons— Amaya didn't want to say the wrong thing, she didn't know what to say exactly. This was new to her— seeing someone like this up close and personal, especially someone as close to her as Hoseok was, was completely new, and she didn't know what she should have done to comfort him.

It took a while before all the wax was off, but eventually Amaya got it all removed from this arms and abdomen. More bruises were beginning to form on his skin, purplish red around the edges. She moved away from him, handing him the washcloth and giving him a warm smile.

“The rest should come off in the shower,” she told him. “If you feel strong enough to wash up tonight.” he nodded at Amaya, the only words coming from him being the quiet ‘thank you’ before she stood back up. She told him that he should try to get some rest if he could, feeling a bit tired herself and letting out a quiet yawn. "There's clean clothes on your bed. You should change into them once you get in there, okay?" Hoseok slowly nodded again, staying silent as his head hung down.

"Hey..."

Amaya crouched down again, gently placing her hands on Hoseok's face and lifting his head to get him to look at her. The way his eyes were glossed over with more tears made Amaya’s heart break. She knew he was thinking that all of this was his fault, she knew that he was blaming himself for what had happened to him. Amaya caressed the balls of his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, Hoseok letting out a shaky sigh as she did so.

"This isn't your fault, okay? You know that..." Hoseok closed his eyes and nodded, taking a sharp breath through his nose as he tried to keep himself from crying again. Amaya nodded back, giving him a smile as she willed herself not to cry as well, and the two of them stood up, silently walking to their respective rooms and closing the doors.

Amaya couldn't sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of Hoseok tied up against his headboard burned under her eyelids. It's a sight she would never be able to forget, something she'll never be able to get out of her head for God knows how long. His soft sobs and whimpers as he sat naked and vulnerable on the bed, how he was in so much pain that he passed out, being unconscious for who knows how long, how he had just been abandoned... abandoned by someone who was supposed to be there for him. It made her want to vomit, made her want to cry, made her want to scream.

It was too much; how was she supposed to help him through this? How was she going to be enough to help him get through a trauma this great? He hadn't even told her what happened; he probably never will. It was a scary thing, knowing that he endured something so incredibly vile. Who knows what would've happened if Amaya were a minute later, if she had never picked up her phone. She didn't want to think about it, but it roamed. the thought roamed in her mind and lingered, causing her to groan in frustration and slam her fists into her pillow.

Amaya knew Hoseok was awake too; through the walls of her room, she could hear the springs of his bed creak from his tossing and turning,most likely trying to find a comfortable way to lie down that wouldn't hurt too much. She felt horrible; she had seen the signs, knew there was something going on. She knew that there was more happening than meets the eye. But she stayed silent, she played as if there was nothing wrong, because she didn't want to believe it. Amaya didn't want to believe it when she saw the bruise on his thigh the other day, when he flinched at her touch. But now she had to believe it, because now, she’s seen it with her own eyes. There was nothing to mask it as something else, because she knew exactly what it was.

There was no hiding from it now.

[bythexdreadwolf]

FOR A MOMENT, I FORGET TO WORRY || AO3 LINK

 CULLENxINQUISITOR KATYA TREVELYAN (FLUFF, MINOR NSFW) WORD COUNT: 1,769 

This plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.  Cullen stood in the middle of Skyhold’s immense kitchen, which was now filled with smoke, coughing as he tried to clear enough of it just to be able to breathe.  He hadn’t remembered the recipe for his mother’s cake being this difficult in the past.  He bent over the counter, flour settling onto the elbows of his tunic and buried his head in his hands.  Maker’s breath, all he’d wanted was to do something for her.  A surprise, to take some of the tension away from her shoulders and ease the lines of worry around her eyes.  But everything that could have gone wrong had.  The dense cake was simple, just as his upbringing had been, but delicious, and he knew she had a love for the little frilly things that Josephine had imported from a particular shop in Val Royeaux.  But he’d wanted to share this piece of himself with her, a taste of his home, his childhood.  It felt like this was a turning stone for them, that something bigger than just a cake hinged on this turning out well.  He’d written Mia for the instructions and ingredients, hoping to match what he had in memory with what his sister had to make sure it was absolutely perfect.  That part had been simple enough.  It was the couriers with this missive and that notice and those requisitions and these requests that had him forgetting what he was doing approximately ten seconds after starting, to the point where.  Well.

Anyone with eyes could see that the results were…less than ideal.  He groaned and dug his fingers into his hair.  His head was pounding both from withdrawals and from agitation.  He’d told her to meet him in the kitchens at sunset, and while he had no windows to aid him in marking the time, his heart was hammering with enough anxiety that he knew she’d be there any moment and things were, simply put, a bloody disaster.  Sure enough, it was barely two heartbeats before the door to the kitchen creaked open.

“Cullen?” Katya called out, then coughed as the cloud of smoke from the burnt and ruined cake hit her.

“Andraste preserve me,” he sighed, pushing himself off of the counter and turning to face her with all of the air of a man being sent to his death.

To her credit, she did not laugh.  She did, however, have to bite her bottom lip to keep herself from grinning as she left the door open behind her.  His eyes followed the way her full lips trembled as she fought a smile, crossing over the kitchen to regard the cake with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, her cinnamon-colored eyes dancing with mirth.  An embarrassed heat rose up his neck, his ears, and his cheeks.  He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Happy, ah…happy name-day,” he finished lamely.  “It…was supposed to be a surprise.  For you.”

She let out a small good-natured snort and shook her head at him before she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head against his chest.  She was as cool as she ever was against his too-warm flesh, the contrast delicious to the stifling heat from the oven.  He felt some of his nerves melt away as she pressed herself to him and he wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the softness of her thick, full curves against his body.

“I haven’t celebrated my name-day since I was taken to the Circle,” she told him, her voice cutting through his thoughts and reminding him precisely of just how badly he’d buggered this.  He felt his stomach clench with guilt.  She pulled away to look him in the face, cupping his cheek and stroking his cheekbone with her thumb.  “But thank you.  For trying.  It’s still a nice surprise.”

She stood on tiptoe to capture his lips with hers in a brief, chaste kiss.  “Even if it’s too bad that the cook is going to absolutely kill you.  You were such a good commander too.  Pity.”

He snorted but smiled at her all the same, some of the crushing weight of disappointment that everything had not gone according to plan beginning to ease.  How she always knew what to say, what to do, to stop him feeling sorry for himself, he’d never know.

“Andraste’s tits, Cullen, this place is a mess.”

She idly dragged her finger through some of the flour covering the surface of the countertop and examined it, before she suddenly tapped him on the nose, laughing.  He knew he must look ridiculous but Andraste help him, he didn’t care.  She was laughing and smiling for the first proper time in weeks.  He would have paraded naked through the streets of Val Royeaux if it meant he could hear that beautiful, wonderful, perfect laugh.

He reached out for her and bent down to take her lips with his own, his kiss hot and hungry, capturing her laugh on his tongue.  Her hands went up to tangle in his hair and he moaned as she scraped her nails across his scalp.  She tasted like honeyed wine and frost, and he wanted to drink her in until he was drunk off the taste of her.  Her magic called to the lyrium he had not yet managed to purge from his veins and he felt like his entire body was alive with the need to taste her magic.  He wanted to devour her, mind, body, and soul.  What was she doing to him?  To his heart?  He backed her up until her lush backside was pressed against the countertop, eliciting a small noise of protest against his mouth.  Nipping playfully at her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough so that it earned him a delicious little yip of surprise, he smirked against her lips, pleased with himself.  He hoisted her legs up around his waist and lifted her up onto the counter, an empty milk jug rolling to the floor, his knee parting her thighs.

“Not here,” she hummed against his lips.  He wanted to ask her why not, even if he already knew the answer — the smell of burnt cake surrounded them, there was flour everywhere, anyone could walk in at any moment…  But the part of him that was incapable of rational thought was telling him to say to hell the consequences.  He traced the line of her pulse, taking her earlobe between his teeth, his hands working to free her hair from its tight braid so he could run his fingers through it.  She was beautiful, and his, and Maker, he loved her so much…

“Cullen,” she whined, and it was enough to somewhat bring him to his senses.  She was right.  Not here.  This wasn’t…he wanted to…not here…she deserved…

A groan slipped from his mouth into hers, his hand moving from her hair to the base of her spine to hold her steady against him.  Her deft fingers, calloused from so many years of wielding her staff, slipped under his tunic, splaying across his bare skin.  He felt the pull of the Veil, the almost sickly-sweet smell of it, his templar senses still sharp despite his best efforts to separate himself from that life, and he felt the cold erupt from her fingers to spread across his burning skin.  He gasped as her nails dug into the waistband of his trousers; her hands were cold as ice.  His erection was pressed up against her and he wanted nothing more than to rip off her clothes, let those frigid, frost-tipped fingers trail over every single inch of him while he warmed her with his own white-hot touch.  You should be afraid, the part of him that he warred with every single bloody day whispered darkly in the back of his mind.  She would never hurt you, the part completely and irrevocably hers snapped back.

“Cullen,” Kat pulled away from him with some reluctance and he blinked like a man blinded by sunlight after sitting in a dark room.  Maker, it was hard to think with those hands of hers still lingering on his skin and her hair tickling the back of his hand.  She looked up at him with wide eyes.  Her pupils were blown, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair a half-up mess, and Andraste help them, there was flour everywhere.  He was breathing hard, trying to ignore the burning need blazing through him at the sight of her beatific, round face flushed with want and hunger and so much tenderness.

“Maker,” he panted.  He had to step away from her, or he would never stop and they would never leave.  A shaking hand ran through his mussed up hair.  His heart was beating a mad tattoo against his chest, he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her for the rest of eternity, but this was not the place, as much as he wanted to, as much as he was aching take her here and now.  If she so much as looked down, his desire was on display for the whole of fucking Skyhold to see.

She reached up to shake the rest of her hair loose, and the long strands tumbled down her shoulders, almost to her lap.  Maker, she was so…how she could love someone like him, he could never know.  She slid off the counter, some of his favorite parts of her bouncing pleasantly as she landed back on her feet.  He felt somewhat ashamed as he stood there, ogling the way her blouse had slipped down off her left shoulder to allow the top of her breast to peek out.  Was he some untested greenhorn who could not control himself in front of a beautiful woman?  How she could walk after that when his own legs felt like he were a newborn colt, he couldn’t fathom, but she gestured to the door with a raised eyebrow and another of those gentle smiles.  He turned to follow her, and laughed.

“What?”

“You’ve got…that is to say…flour…”  He tried not to stare; Maker-knows, he tried so hard not to stare.  But her plump arse was covered in white flour, the leather turned nearly grey in patches from where she’d been wriggling underneath him.

She gave him a quizzical look before comprehension dawned on her features and she let out a loud bark of amusement.

“I’ve got flour on my arse, haven’t I.”

[wrestlewriting]

Can’t Escape Myself [Demon!Finn; Part 1/?]

Requested, #357: “When is a monster not a monster?” “When you love it.” - Demon!Finn (Prompt from here.)

Author Note: So this is a Demon!Finn AU type story. It was inspired somewhat by the way the TV show Charmed was explained. This is my first AU style story and I hope it flows well. It’s really long, like 6000 words long.

There will be a Part Two. And it will have a lot more Demon!Finn, and a lot more...intimacy. ;)

Special shout out to @chasingeverybreakingwave @ratherkissawookiee @running-ropes & @heelturn-timesten for their feedback, support, and inspiration.

Gif from @actofbalor.

@superkixbaybay @heelcharlie @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @valeonmars @pjanina13 @spot-of-bother @bolieve-that @m-a-t-91 @chasingeverybreakingwave @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @heelturn-timesten @imaginingwwesuperstars @running-ropes @wrestlingnoob @daintymissdevitt @nickysmum1909 @ambrosegirlforever @mistressbalor  @balorsdomain  @cosmicswimming  @rollinsbabe @ileana0300  @purgatoryhatesme  @squirrel666 @alexahood21 @bitchesgonnabemad @thegenericluchadora

Arms wide open, I stand alone. I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone. Right or wrong, I can hardly tell. I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.

When you met Finn, he had been the definition of a total sweetheart. You’d been at a bar/restaurant with friends, at the bar part, of course. While waiting to order your drink, you’d been smashed into by some random. Finn had been the one to steady you on your feet and ask if you were OK. That had led to chit-chat, then to a conversation, and on to your group sitting with his group to enjoy the night.

He’d been practically bashful when he asked you out on your first date, and equally adorable throughout the occasion.

As you got to know Finn, you found him entirely endearing and enjoyed listening to him tell stories of his life in Ireland and his travels for wrestling. When you spoke about your own life, his gaze never left your face, and he always had questions to ask of you. There was a gentleness to him, from his voice to his eyes to his smile. He made you feel safe, supported, wanted.

The months passed easily, with the two of you seeing each other with every opportunity. Finn traveled for work, but on average, you were together most nights of the week. It alternated between your place and his.

Not long after your one year anniversary, you decided to move in together officially. It took a bit of searching but you both finally agreed on a nice house in Florida to call yours. Combining your lives had taken time, coordination, patience, arguing, and apologizing. But within a few weeks, a routine was established. Happiness was the only thing you felt when you looked around your living room, pictures of the two of you and people you loved scattered around.

Things were going great, but great couldn’t last forever.

It was one night when you couldn’t sleep after a long day at work that you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. Venting to Finn had felt good, but it hadn’t made the stresses of the day go away. He was asleep beside you, and you were jealous. With a sigh, you curled your arms around the pillow, looking at his sleeping face. He was downright beautiful, and even though that wasn’t a popular descriptor for men, it fit him in all the right ways.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, directly with yours. You startled, not at all expecting it; he had been sound asleep after all. What made him wake up? You were moving around a bit sure, but nothing that should have roused him.

You noticed his normally bright blue eyes weren’t the same. They were dark, practically black, blending into the atmosphere of the room. But there was a glow to them, as though there were embers in the middle among ashes.

“Sorry if I woke you,” you whispered. At first, he made no acknowledgment that he’d heard you. And then slowly, in an almost methodical fashion, he lifted his head from the pillow it had been on, leaning in towards you. Your breath caught at his actions, unsure what he was doing.

“Sleep, love.” His voice was rough, deep, a tone you’d never heard before. Then again, he had just woken up.

“Trying to,” you replied, as his face came to hover just above yours. There was an almost…inquisitive nature about his gaze on you. “Finn–”

“Hush,” he cut you off. Your mouth closed immediately. “Sleep.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said, your voice barely audible even in the silence.

“It is.” His eyes, despite their odd coloring, were practically hypnotic. His words were less of a comfort, and more of a command. With a sound kiss placed on your lips, he smoothly laid himself back down, before pulling you into his body. His arms were tight around you, holding you on your side to him.

Sleep came to you eventually after that, Finn’s grasp on you not giving you much choice in your position.

After that, there were various other brief moments where Finn didn’t look or seem like your Finn, but you brushed them away. Everyone had their days where they were off or unlike their typical selves. It was human nature.

But then there was the one night in June where you learned, it wasn’t entirely human nature after all.

It wasn’t even human.

You were out with Finn and some of the other wrestlers he was friends with and their significant others. Noam was being pushy with the alcohol, leading you to taking shots, something you weren’t the biggest fan of. But the Scot was persuasive to a fault. So after about two hours of being there, sharing drinks and laughter, you were by definition drunk.

This led to your need to find the ladies’ restroom sooner rather than later. Sliding off your chair, you laid a sloppy kiss on the top of Finn’s head, before walking off towards a back hallway. There was a lit up sign above the entrance way that indicated you were going in the right direction for what you needed. You pushed through the swinging door, finding yourself in a long hallway with doors on either side. When the door shut, the bar sounds faded into background noise.

There was surprisingly no line at either restroom, and you easily enough made your way into the women’s. It took a few moments for you to be able to finagle your shorts down enough, but you were eventually successful. There was an equal struggle in redressing yourself, and you rechecked yourself in the mirror a few times to make sure everything was lying as it should.

Upon leaving the restroom, you smacked right into a solid body of a man. He grabbed at you to steady you as you wobbled in your shoes, your own hands flailing before one found a grip on him, the other on the wall.

“Shit! I’m sorry!”

“You a’ight?” Once you got your bearings and senses back about you, you let go of your grip on him. Looking up, you smiled slightly, apologetically.

“Yea, I’m good. Thanks. Sorry about that.” You expected him to let go of you with your words, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down at you, having a number of inches in a height advantage. His eyes scanned over you, making you feel entirely uncomfortable.

“Let me get you a drink,” he offered.

“I’m good, thanks,” was your terse response, as you attempted to step backward from him. Unfortunately, this put you right up against the wall, next to the bathroom door. The man continued to stand within inches of you, one of his hands letting go of you, the other staying on your forearm. He still had you blocked from the exit by his body.

“Just one. As an apology for knockin’ into you,” the man insisted, a smile spreading on his face. You assumed he was going for charming, but he landed on creepy.

“I’d rather not. I have a drink waiting at my table,” you stated. You didn’t want to be one of those girls who had to throw around the ‘I have a boyfriend’ card, but you weren’t beneath it either. Why couldn’t this guy just accept your answer and be done with it? The alcohol he had clearly consumed, based on his leering smile and eyes, probably wasn’t helping his comprehension of your words.

“Well, you can get back to that eventually,” he said, his thumb rubbing on your skin where his hold was. You repressed the urge to shudder at the feeling.

“Let go of me, and we’ll go our separate ways,” you ordered, trying to make your tone authoritative. You weren’t sure if you succeeded, and then you were positive you hadn’t, as his grip remained near your wrist.

“Just…”

“She said, let her go.”

You knew that voice. Well…sort of. It sounded like Finn, but it wasn’t quite the same. The tone was harsh, the bass lower, raspier.

And then suddenly the man was no longer holding on to you. He was ripped away and thrown against the opposing wall, the thud of his body as it hit echoing in the hallway. By the time you realized what was happening, only Finn’s back was to you. You knew now it was him based on his clothes; the same black dress shirt with sleeves rolled up, skinny jeans, and sneakers.

“What the fuck man!” It was the last thing the stranger was able to say, as Finn’s hand went to his throat. The man grabbed at Finn’s grip, scratching with his nails, digging in with his fingers. But Finn seemed entirely unaffected by it. If anything, he put more strength into his hold. You could see the change in color of the man’s face and neck, a whiteness starting to wash over his skin.

“Finn! FINN!” You weren’t as coordinated as you wanted to be, but the situation had put some precision in your actions. Lurching forward, you grasped at his shoulders and attempted to pull him back, get him away from the man he was effectively choking.

Without breaking his grip on the man, his head turned and his eyes met yours.

They weren’t the blue you knew and loved. They were the same darkened but fiery shade from so many weeks ago. His face itself was…sharper. His cheekbones were more defined, his brow ridge harsher in some way. The veins in his neck were entirely visible, coming from beneath his shirt and disappearing underneath his jaw. He was still beautiful, but hauntingly so.

“Go.”

You were frozen in your spot, your hands still gripping at his back. This was…not your Finn. And you couldn’t tell yourself this was just an off day. It was an off situation, but it was a public situation as well. He had been perfectly fine minutes ago, and now he was…not.

You didn’t know what was happening. But it wasn’t normal and it needed to be stopped.

“Finn…” Your voice was a whimper in the hallway. “Please. Just…come with me.”

“He was hurting you.” Finn’s voice was more of a growl than anything, as he turned his head back around to set his sights on the man. The man, who was losing color fast, was still struggling as best he could against the grip Finn had on his neck.

“I’m…he wasn’t, Finn! I promise! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m right here, I’M OK!” you pleaded, desperation fueling your words, your fingers pushing further into his shoulders. Tears were filling your eyes as the panic fully set in. “Please, Finn, let him go! We’ll…we’ll leave, OK? We can just go and get home and just…we’ll be fine there, OK? PLEASE!”

Finn continued to stare down the man, who was thrashing less and less in his hold as the moments passed, clearly losing oxygen, and consciousness. You could see the flex of the muscles in Finn’s arm and hand, indicating the tightness of his grip.

“Finn! You have to let him go! You’re killing him!”

Your words were like a trigger. Immediately, Finn let go of the man, and you watched as he fell to the floor in a heap. You felt an odd sense of relief as you watched him sucking in deep breaths, his own hands now the ones at his throat. Finn stepped backward, forcing you to also do so. You were essentially pinned to the opposing wall by his body, entirely hidden from view, and barely able to see the man on the floor anymore.

“Get up and go.” Finn’s voice still held that raspy undertone as he commanded the man. The man shakily got to his feet, using the wall for support, and without sparing either of you a glance, stumbled as fast as he could out of the hallway.

With the way you were pressed into by Finn, you could feel his rapid breathing, the tension of his muscles. You both stood quietly in the hallway, the muffled sounds of the bar seeming miles away to you at that moment. You willed your hazy mind to understand what you’d just witnessed, what had just occurred. Finn had snapped on that man, had been ready to kill that man. He had been a scary, inverted version of himself.

There were several more still moments until you noticed Finn take a deep breath, and only then did he slowly turn around to face you. He no longer looked any different in the face, aside from a coloring on his cheeks from what you guessed was anger. Had you imagined the change in his appearance? Had the alcohol and panic made you see things that weren’t true?

No. You saw what you saw. A late-night different coloring of eyes was one thing. But his entire face had been morphed. Something was off. Finn was...you weren’t sure what, honestly. And that worried, alarmed, you more than anything.

“Are you OK?”

“…y…yea.” You hated the shakiness of your voice. His hands came up to your face, obviously planning to sooth you. But you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching as soon as his skin touched yours. Your reaction immediately registered with him, evidenced by his eyebrows drawing downward, a frown coming to his mouth. He didn’t move his hands however, keeping them where they cradled your cheeks.

“It’s OK, it’s done,” Finn calmed you, apparently reading your behavior as the aftershock from the man’s intrusion, not realizing it wasn’t entirely due to that.

“I…Finn…what was that?” Your question was a harsh whisper, which only made his facial expression deepen further in its negative connotation.

“What was what? That guy? I don’t know. You tell me,” he replied, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones lightly. You reached up with your own hands, gripping his wrists, ceasing his movement.

“That, was just some drunk idiot. But you….” There was no way you could finish your sentence, unable to formulate your thoughts. You wanted to ask him about what you’d witnessed, confront him about his behavior and change, but you couldn’t even begin to find the words to do so. Would he even tell you? Would he fly into another rage, but this time at you?

Based on the way Finn’s face went blank, and he all but balked, you could tell he knew what you were attempting to get at.

“Let’s go home, yea? We’ll talk there,” he stated, removing his hands from you, causing your own hands to let go of him. He took a step back from you, awaiting your response.

You hesitated in giving an answer. And you hated that you did. This was your boyfriend of almost two years, the man you shared a home with. Why would you not trust him?

Oh. Right. Because there was obviously something going on with him that would most likely require a long-winded explanation. And you didn’t know if it was an explanation you could handle.

“Come home with me, please. I promise I’ll tell ya whatever ya need to know,” Finn implored, his eyes searching yours.

With the tiniest of nods, you gave your answer. Finn grabbed your hand in his, leading you out of the hallway, past a handful of people attempting to gain access to the same space. You were grateful those people had not come moments earlier.

You didn’t really hear what Finn told your friends about why you were leaving, and just stood idly by as he spoke. Whatever it was, seemed to be accepted without argument, as you found yourself within minutes on the sidewalk. He handed you your clutch, before slipping on the suit coat he’d taken off hours earlier. Finn hailed one of the many waiting cabs, and you ducked into the back without prompting.

The car ride was quiet between the two of you. You pressed yourself up against your door, your gaze never leaving the outside world as it whipped past. Finn didn’t reach out to you, didn’t move closer, kept the middle gap wide between the two of you.

Every mile closer to home made your anxiety rise higher. Would this be your last night with Finn? Were you prepared to hear whatever he had to tell you? What in the actual fuck was going on, anyways? The possibilities were endless really. His behavior, you could explain that away as an overprotective boyfriend. But try as you did, you couldn’t come up with a rational reason for why he had looked practically inhuman.

Soon enough you were in the driveway of your house. You said nothing as you opened the door and headed up to the front. Finn came moments later, as you heard the cab leave your place. You stood to the side as he opened the door, allowing you to enter first. It was pure routine that had you going into the kitchen, throwing your clutch down onto the counter. Balancing one hand on the ledge, you slid out of your heels, pushing them to the side.

Finn was at the fridge, his suit jacket now over the back of one of the counter chairs. He took out two water bottles, offering you one. You took it from him but didn’t open it, setting it down in front of yourself. It was hard to keep looking at him, and your eyes kept drifting back down.

“Should we…go to the living room?” Standing around in the kitchen to have this conversation didn’t feel right.

“Uh, yea, yea, sure.” You left your water bottle and turned, walking across the room and down the hall to the living room. Finn was shuffling behind you, based on the sounds you heard. But as you continued into the room, he apparently stopped at the entrance. Looking over your shoulder, your assumption was confirmed. The both of you just stared at one another, no words being spoken, as you turned fully to face him.

The silence was overwhelming, the tension practically palpable. Finn continued to stand near the doorway, his body stiff in an uncomfortable way. He almost looked like he was ready to bolt from the room at any moment if necessary.

You had so many questions, and you didn’t know where to start. You weren’t sure what words to use, how to get the information you wanted. Would he even tell you the whole truth? There was a feeling in your gut that your world, your life, had been flipped on its head tonight. And you really didn’t like that feeling.

“What happened at the bar?” It seemed like a safe question to ask, open enough for him to give you whatever information he was comfortable in giving to start.

“Didn’t like what was happenin’ to ya.” You swallowed the sigh that you wanted to give at his answer. He was avoiding. It didn’t surprise you, but you had hoped at this point everything would just be put out in the open. So maybe you’d have to be the one to bite the bullet, so to speak, and be direct.

“I appreciate that. But that wasn’t you stopping it, was it?”

His eyes immediately left yours and went to the floor. He crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing. If you hadn’t been watching him, you probably would have missed the subtlest of nods he made with his head.

“Finn, Jesus, you have to tell me what’s going on! Don’t I deserve that much?” Your anger was a surprise even to you in that moment. It probably had something to do with the alcohol still flowing in your blood, amplifying your fear and frustration.

“You deserve so much more than any this,” was his response.

“Stop being cryptic! Tell me what happened tonight. Tell me what’s been happening for weeks. I’ve noticed weird moments, but I didn’t think they were anything but that: moments. And then tonight…. Finn, please, be honest with me. Please. What is this? What’s going on?!”

“It’s….” He stopped whatever he was going to say, unfolding his arms. He ran one over his face, his beard, and then let them both fall to his sides. Leaning against the wall, he put his head fully back, his eyes closing. You watched as he stayed in that position for some moments, not speaking, just breathing.

“I’m not entirely…human.”

“What?”

While you’d had wild thoughts and ideas that would explain Finn’s odd behavior, hearing him actually say it felt unreal to you. It was one thing to wonder and muse over possibilities, but having them confirmed…. You were pretty sure your heart was about to beat out of your chest with anxiety and uncertainty.

“There’s…half of me…I’m….” Your breath was stuck in your chest as you waited for him to finish his thought. “I’m part demon, too.” His eyes opened then, as he tilted his head back down to be able to watch you, as you heard the information.

You took in a shaky breath, if only out of physical necessity. How was this happening? You had to be in a dream or an alternative reality.

“What? You gonna tell me the Boogeyman is real too?”

“Well, there’s more than one thing that ya could be meanin’,” Finn answered, the picture of seriousness.

His answer, so solemn and earnest, wiped all joking nature from you, your body stiffening.

“…Finn…you’re fucking with me, right?” It was a hopeless question, and you knew the answer already, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the chance.

He looked sad as he shook his head ever so slightly. Your breathing stuttered again as the weight of the situation settled down on you, as you fully understood he wasn’t kidding. You all but fell backward onto the couch, your eyes wide, your mind racing with the knowledge you were learning. Your hand gripped at the couch cushion beside you, in an attempt to ground yourself in some way.

Finn was a Demon. The character he played sometimes in the ring was an actual, real part of him. It wasn’t just an idea he had; it was him. Which meant, overall, there were other things in this world that weren’t human too probably. Things you couldn’t even fathom, most likely.

“I’m… I’m not….” Finn was clearly struggling with his thoughts, looking almost pained by them. With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes again. “I’m a monster.”

“You are not.” Your answer was automatic. There was no way your kind, animal-loving, Lego-building, dork of a boyfriend was a monster.

“I am,” he argued. His shoulders hunched forward, as though he had been broken by his own confession, as it had not been one he wanted to make. “I’m not what… Oh sweetheart, if ya only knew.” You had the urge to go and hug him, but something told you he wanted to keep the distance in the room right then.

But now, you had a million questions.

Part of you didn’t want to ask any of them. Part of you wanted to flee the house. Your boyfriend wasn’t what you thought he was, not by a long shot. Everything you knew of demons from books, TV shows, movies, wasn’t good. You had to be at risk living with him.

Then again, you couldn’t be. He’d been with you for so long now, and you had never felt anything negative from him. There were disagreements, arguments, but those happened in relationships. You’d never once felt threatened by him. So maybe this…evil half of him didn’t have as much power over him as his human half.

His human half. What a weird, surreal thing to have to think about your boyfriend.

You decided Finn deserved for you to let him speak his peace on this matter. You’d been together for too long for you to just bolt on him. He was obviously having enough difficulty with the situation. The fact that he’d kept it hidden for so long spoke volumes about his intentions, you felt. And maybe if you knew more, you’d feel less freaked out. There was an almost morbid curiosity that you had overall about the situation.

“So…how does one…uh, become a half-demon then?” You figured his origin was a good place to start in your search for understanding.

“My mam is also a demon.” Your mouth opened slightly at his disclosure. You’d met Finn’s mom at many shows, talked to her plenty of times through Facetime. She had been the kindest, sweetest woman you’d probably ever known. There was no way she had an evil bone in her body.

“How….?”

“She’s had hundreds of years to control herself,” he explained, an uneasy smile on his mouth. “Longer than I have.”

Finn went on to explain how the balance of the good and evil of the worlds worked; the humans and The Others, as he called them. He told you about how around four hundred years ago a change had been made in the Evil Realm Rulebook essentially, allowing evil beings to live good lives should they choose, without repercussions. He explained how so few had made that choice, but his mother had been one, having already had a sweet spot for his father. It was somewhat confusing as he told you about how the Others could in some way transform their chosen mates, keeping them alive so long as they were. You didn’t argue though, deciding to accept the information as to why his parents were both still around for you to meet. It wasn’t like you knew any better than he did of this other world’s ways.

He told you about growing up as a normal human until his eighteenth birthday when The Other part of him had been made known to him. How he had learned he had abilities, though he didn’t specify what they were exactly. Finding out that moment had been almost two hundred years ago for him was a hard pill to swallow. An even harder piece of information to understand was finding out the awful things he had done afterward.

There was clear remorse in Finn’s tone and agony on his face as he told you about spending almost one hundred years fully embracing his demonic nature, killing people and causing mayhem amongst many. That was when he had been given the name Bálor, as a means to connect with his evil side and belong in the Others’ World. He made no excuses for his behavior, stating he had made his choices on his own.

You were pretty sure there were tears in his eyes as he told you about returning home to his parents, telling them of his exploits, and having to mend those fences. His mother had passed little judgment, having led her own awful life at one point. His father had taken time to come to terms, having long hoped his good human-side would have kept Finn from ever experiencing the negative parts of himself.

Through his entire account, he remained against the wall, and you stayed on the couch. The more he spoke, the more answers you got. But the more questions you developed as well.

“So, how can something that’s inherently evil decide not to be?”

“It’s…the same way a human who’s born realizes they aren’t the norm. When a human realizes that they should be one way, but aren’t. You’re born a girl, but ya feel good as a boy. People say ya should have an attraction to the opposite sex, but ya don’t. It can happen for Others too. Just because you’re made in one way, doesn’t mean ya are that way. It’s not common, but it happens.”

That made sense, you supposed.

“…how…how are you still….” You trailed off, realizing your inquiry would sound rather harsh most likely.

“How am I still alive?” Finn asked your question for you, a tiny smile on his face as you nodded hesitantly. “Immortality. And, it’s not as fun as it has been made to seem.”

“OK. But, like, you’re…you’ve had hundreds of years…. And you’re just way too damn hot to be that old.”

Finn’s laughter was music to your ears. You took in the way his mouth opened with the sound, his eyes closed briefly, crinkles at their edges. When he looked at you, he still had a genuine smile on his face. The moment pushed some of the uncomfortableness from the room, as you couldn’t stop your own small smile from forming to his reaction.

“It’s…it’s just a part of the demon, I suppose,” he stated. “I can…I have power over how I look when it comes to my human part, my appearance.”

“So what you just…stay 30-something forever?”

“No. Not at all. I make sure I age the same as any,” Finn clarified. “And then when I feel I’ve run my course in my life, I go somewhere new, and start again.”

“I was there when you got your driver’s license, Finn,” you pointed out. There was no way he could just start a new life and it went smoothly for him each time, without some legal hang-up. He may have knowledge of another world, but in the real human world, things like that mattered.

“Ya were,” he agreed. “But knowing what ya know now, do you really believe every person who works for the government is human? Honestly?”

He had a good point with that one.

Taking a shaky breath, you acknowledged how overwhelming this all was. There were so many other questions you wanted to ask, knowledge you needed to gain regarding this whole situation. While his clarifications so far had made sense, as much sense as talk of demons and other worlds could, you still felt uneasy.

In the span of a few hours, you’d learned that your live-in boyfriend was half-demon, half-human. The demon half of him was hundreds of years old and had killed people. The human half of him was living with that guilt and had lived at least two full lives at this point probably.

“Wait. Why do you use Bálor in the ring then? Is that…when you wrestle… Who is wrestling?”

“It’s me,” Finn confirmed. “Mostly. It’s…sometimes it’s hard to keep the demon down, so to speak. So some of that…aggression comes out in the ring. And that’s also why I wear the face paint when I wrestle. In case…in case more of Bálor comes out than I intended to.”

“That seems like a dangerous game to play,” you assessed, your eyebrows lifting.

“Hasn’t been an issue yet,” was his response. “Like I said, I’m learning still to not let Bálor have control. But sometimes, that’s tiring. Sometimes it’s better to give myself a reprieve, I guess. But I also want to someday not have to do that. And practice makes perfect, yea?”

“So…before this life, before wrestling, where were you?”

“Ireland. Stayed there and hid amongst my family and Others that understood,” Finn said. “And then I decided to try livin’ a human life, around actual other humans. Wrestling just…I’ve always enjoyed it for what it is. And it seemed a good place for someone like me to go and be able to figure this out.” You nodded a bit to show you’d heard him, and waited for him to go on.

“I went to Japan to escape all the things I’d done in the rest of the world. To try and forget. But…it wasn’t that easy. Those memories, they stayed with me. I can’t….” He trailed off, apparently unable to fully explain the burden he was bearing.

You couldn’t imagine what it was like, to have two parts to yourself, and entirely opposing parts at that. Having to live with the knowledge that you’d done horrible things to undeserving people…and that you really hadn’t had to…. You were amazed at Finn’s resilience in that moment. For all the bad, he had been the most wonderful person you’d ever known in your time with him. You’d never had any indication that this part of him existed, and that said a lot about his strength of character.

“Waking up next to ya…those were the first moments I didn’t feel…evil,” he admitted, his eyes coming up to meet yours, a bittersweet smile gracing his face. “You…ya never knew that part of me. And I just…uh, bein’ with ya, I thought maybe I’d finally found the person that would keep it all away.”

“That’s why when I said you were killing him, you stopped,” you realized. Finn nodded in solemn agreement.

“I don’t…that’s not who I am, not anymore, not really. And I never, never want ya to see me like that either,” he replied. “That…monster has no place with you.”

“When is a monster not a monster?” Your question wasn’t for him to answer; you both knew he didn’t have an answer. “When you love it.”

“You can’t–”

“I can,” you cut him off. “So there’s this…this weird, different, not-so-great part to you. It’s…Finn, we’ve….” You trailed off, attempting to gather your thoughts, figure out how to explain this to him. Taking a deep breath, you stood up from the couch, making your way to him. Once you reached him, you brought you hand up, gingerly placing it on his cheek, your eyes searching his.

“I’ve had you in my life for many months at this point. This…this other part of you…if you’ve kept this hidden this long, then clearly you are in control of it.” You paused, trailing your hand down his face, his neck, resting it finally on his shoulder. You put your other hand on his chest, your fingers gripping his shirt. He remained still, his hands at his sides.

“And it’s not...you’re not a monster. You can’t be. A monster…a monster would have let this other part of you run the show and make all the choices, but you didn’t. You stopped that so long ago. So…I love you, handsome. I love you, all of you. And we’ll…it’ll take some time, but we’ll make this work just fine.”

“You don’t understand,” Finn stated, his voice soft, almost like he was devastated to disagree. “That other part of me? He’s not goin’ to go away. And…yes, I have kept it managed around you. But…the more I love ya, the more I know ya…the more he knows ya too.”

“OK? And?”

An almost amused smile flittered across Finn’s face at your response. Maybe you sounded naïve, but you weren’t seeing the threat in this situation.

“I…I can keep that part of me…keep Bálor away. But…by the standards of demons, I’m still young. And I’m still…learning.” You could only imagine what you looked like at that moment; concerned, confused, conflicted. “There’s still… OK, tonight, for example. Seeing ya in a bad situation…I couldn’t stop the switch. I’m still not able to always have control. Especially not for the woman I love.”

“Am…am I in danger?”

His silence was the answer you hadn’t wanted. There was no way he didn’t see the fear flicker in your eyes.

“I would never hurt ya on purpose,” Finn avowed, finally moving to touch you, resting his hands lightly on your sides. “And, neither would Bálor. Not a chance. But…when I’m him, when he’s in control…collateral damage. That’s what I worry about.”

“Well, that’s my choice to make, to put myself in that position.”

“No. I can’t let–”

“I’m sorry. Did you just say let?” you cut him off. “Oh no, sweetheart. There has never been and will never be a ‘let’ in this relationship. I’m making this decision, Finn. You either accept it or you don’t, but it’s mine to make.”

The way his lips pursed every so lightly indicated he seemed irritated by your declaration. But he also accepted it without argument, apparently remembering who he was talking to and that your stubborn streak was a country mile wide.

“I just have one request,” you said, looking up to him, making sure his eyes were with yours.

“What’s that?”

“I want to meet Bálor. See? See Bálor? I don’t know the verbs here. But…I want to know that half of you, the whole of you, not just the glimpses I’ve seen so far.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Finn,” you placated him, trailing your hands down then back up his torso lightly. “You have to let me in, one-hundred percent in. If I’m with you, then for all intents and purposes, I’m also with him. And just in case…in case things go sideways, shouldn’t I know what this all really entails?”

“I don’t want ya to meet him. I never want ya to look at me and see him.”

“Sweetheart, I already have,” you highlighted. “Just not entirely. And, I think it’s important that I do.”

Finn was quiet after that, with your request which was more a demand, hanging between the two of you. His eyes went from yours to over your face, down your body as much as he could see, before coming back up to your eyes. You remained stoic, serious, trying to convince him of your words with your posture. You meant what you said, and you needed this. It was just a matter of convincing him.

“I just…that part of me…he….” Finn let his thought die off, ending it with a sigh. His head fell gently forward, his forehead resting against yours. You closed your eyes, his already closed, breathing in his exhale.

You understood this was hard for him, appreciated that he wasn’t trying to be reckless with his life where you were concerned. But you also genuinely needed to know him, all of him, in order for any of this to be OK, in any way. You had to entirely see and feel and know the man you shared your life with.

“Please, Finn,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as possible. “Trust me. Trust yourself.”

There was a tingling feeling rushing through your body as you felt each breath he took, awaiting his response. His fingers gripped tighter at your hips, anchoring you to him. This was do or die time. And quite possibly, that could be a literal thing.

“OK.” The air rushed out of your body at his agreement, your heart rate speeding up.

“…OK.” Opening your eyes, you moved your head away from his, being able to see his entire face. “I want this to happen now.”

“I figured,” he muttered, his own eyes staying closed. “Just…if…for any reason, if you don’t feel right, I want you to go. Run. Get out of here. Do you understand?”

“Finn, it’ll be fi– ”

“Do you understand?” He repeated his question, a force in his tone.

“Yes….”

“…fair then.”

You waited, your fingers tight in his shirt, your breathing changing pace, your heart skipping beats at random.

And just when you thought he wasn’t going to follow through, his eyes snapped open.

They weren’t blue.

Part Two teaser:

Every part of him was different.

His fingers felt rougher somehow, though he wasn’t touching you any harder than usual. When you ran your hands down his chest, his muscles were as taught as always, but his skin had a coloring to it that wasn’t quite right. It was like his blood was pushing at the surface, but dulled down in some manner. A flush, really, but his temperature was actually cooler.

Going back up his body, you finally took in his face.

Part 2 is up here

[absurdvampmuse]

Dazed

Please go to http://archiveofourown.org/works/10828755 and leave behind your feedback and/or kudos? It would make my day. :) 

Dazed

I love you like I've never, ever loved somebody so don't tell me that it's not enough when the taste of your lips is still fresh.

Betty found herself physically unable to stay within the confines of her room with merely her patience to keep her company. She didn't have enough self-control for that, not when she could only steer her actions at this particular moment. And even those were slipping through her hands like grains of sand through an hourglass. There were only so many places she could go. Her need for control was partnered with her fear of Jughead being incapable of reaching out to her first, especially considering that they had never been this close before. Simultaneously, they couldn't be further apart. They were at opposite ends of the same room, within touching distance but still beyond her reach.

She wanted to show him that she wasn't letting him push her away and that she would be there for him. It was her turn to prove to him that she needed him. It was the only thing she could do to placate the guilt. She should've just been forthright and informed him of her mother's proposal to her, Archie and Veronica's intent as well as the suspicions she had of her own. It would have been okay. They would have been okay. Now the waters were murkier and the fear of possibly losing him over something like this was threatening to pull her under, her breaths coming more painfully at the sheer thought of it.

The police tape was already ripped through when she got to the trailer and the key precisely where Archie had mentioned it to be. Betty entered with a soft knock on the door, not wanting to startle him. The place she walked into was in complete disarray, papers wiped carelessly onto the floor, the table flipped onto its side and pillows strewn everywhere but where they were supposed to be. It was a mess and amongst the rubble sat Jughead, back against the wall and facing the door just in case his father would abruptly storm in and tell him that it had all been a mistake, a case of poor judgment.

She looked out of place in her sparkling dress and formal heels standing amid the wreckage, like Dorothy in the middle of the tornado. She closed the door quickly as if she could hide all of this from the world, pretend it didn't happen if she only shut out reality fast enough. One hand was clasped over her mouth as she scanned the home. Her eyes finally landed on Jughead as she took inventory of him, the suit jacket that was missing, the undone buttons at the top of his shirt, the eschew beanie and most notably the redness and puffiness that marked his eyes.

"You would think he was a wanted terrorist," was the first heavily barbed comment he directed at her, not acknowledging her presence any further than that.

Betty shook her head in disbelief, a faint look of disgust present once she dropped her hand. "I can't believe Sheriff Keller ripped this place apart. It seems so unnecessary."

Jughead scoffed at her remark. "Not when it comes to F.P. apparently. He is, after all, a frequent offender." His observation was meant to be a callous one, but she caught the sudden sheen that came to his eyes.

He blinked them away almost angrily as Betty took the final few strides over to him, gingerly and somewhat unsurely lowering herself down onto her knees in front of him. If he hadn't been so upset he would have been able to appreciate the imagery it provided, the sight of her clad in nothing but shimmer before the twilight that circumscribed him.

"Juggy," Betty said his name as if was something fragile that was close to breaking, teetering on the edge.

"Don't you dare ask me how I'm doing," he lashed out acutely, his gaze cutting as it swept upwards. "Not after my best friend went behind my back to look for evidence against my dad who was then arrested without anyone so much as giving him the benefit of the fucking doubt." He inwardly cringed at the profanity that he always thought of as being indicative of the bad parts throughout his life, black and white snapshots with grainy images that would ultimately be considered not quite right to be put on display in the family photo album. "And not after it was brought to light that my girlfriend, the person I am closest to, had at least an inkling of all of this and decided not to share any of it with me."

He practically pushed the words through his teeth at her, each accusation a blow that made Betty feel even worse than she already did. She didn't vocalize any of her emotions because she recognized that this wasn't about her, even though her eyes were truly the windows into her inner workings. He saw clearly what his words were doing to her, felt it as her pain resonated within himself. It was hurting him to hurt her.

"I'm so sorry," Betty tried again. "I can't—"

"Stop, Betty." He didn't want to hear her apologize again. It would cause for most of his anger at her to evaporate because the rational part of him knew that she had never intended for one omission to spiral so out of control. It had been out of her hands and instead put in the relentless ones of Veronica and the good-willed ones of Archie.

A nod of her head was her only reply as she pressed her lips together and her eyes focused on a spot on the floor. He saw her hands curl into themselves, a reaction that had somehow gotten ingrained. Before her nails could dig in Jughead threw her a lifeline. "Tell me what's happening?"

Her hands uncurled and instead her fingers found the hemline of her skirt, which was now dramatically sprawled out around her. "They took your dad down to the station for questioning. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews followed him there," she quickly reassured him. "Evidently, Mrs. Andrews has a lawyer on speed dial in case F.P. needs it."

Betty rattled off all the facts she had managed to gather and Jughead found some relief in the fact that his father hadn't gone down there alone. He dragged a hand over his tired features. "It's this town. Inherently suspicious of everything and everyone that doesn't fit in between its gilded frame." He tugged roughly at his beanie in an attempt to straighten it. "Little does everyone know that it's just a veneer." He spoke almost melodically, spinning an image with his words that she could easily picture. She liked hearing him speak; it was then undeniably clear that his knack for writing was a natural one.

"I know what Archie and Veronica did is inexcusable and maybe even unforgivable," she started, clutching the fabric of her dress so tightly that it made a rustling sound. "But when they searched the place, they didn't find anything, Jug. There was no gun," she clarified for him. "So, isn't it odd that when the sheriff's department ransacks the place that they do find one?"

Betty saw his face scrunch up in concentration as he let the full weight of her words sink in. "It depends on how thorough they were, really," he answered her rhetorical question after a beat or two. He said the words calmly, detaching himself from the situation momentarily as he took on the role of investigator.

"Comprehensively," she answered confidently and hopefully. "Veronica might have initially gone there for herself, but Archie was there so he could make sure that if there was something to find he could prepare and soften the blow for—"

"Such a pal that Archie, isn't he," Jughead stopped her. "All done out of the purity and benevolence of his heart and loyalty to his supposed best friend."

"I ran into them when I was looking for you, at Pop's," Betty added. "They were going down to the station as well to come clean about what they did and subsequently didn't find. They can't keep your father there if Archie and Veronica's story contradicts their assumption, I don't think."

"It's the least they can do."

"I told them the same thing." Betty cautiously rested her gaze on him. "I know you're hurt. By all of us, by me. But I was genuine when I told you that I didn't know what Archie and Veronica were planning. They didn't include me, not after my mom not so subtly urged me and Veronica to help her and I told the both of them that I had already asked you whether you believed your dad was innocent and that I trusted you. I said no. The dinner was just a suspicion I had."

"You should've still told me," Jughead responded, even though the conviction was lackluster.

Betty shrugged up her shoulder. "You were so excited. You saw the dinner as something good. Your dad perceived the invitation as something genuine. I thought that maybe I was just being jaded by my mom's past actions. I wanted to be hopeful as well." An unladylike snort followed her last sentence, eyes flicking up towards the ceiling as she rolled them. "But I should have known better."

"We are better than our parents, Betty," he was quick to remind her, most of his animosity no longer aimed at her.

"Am I?"

"Yes," he decided for her. "I might be mad at you for not articulating your skepticism, but you were on my side, despite your mother's poor request and our friends' misgivings."

Betty finally let go of her skirt and instead placed her hands on the knees of the boy before her. "I am profoundly sorry, Juggy."

He nodded, watching as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and averted her eyes. "Just spit it out, Betts."

"At school, in the hall, you mentioned something about giving up the opportunity to move to Toledo… " she trailed off so he could fill in the blanks.

"My dad brought it up when he dropped us off. He's been trying and I offered to move back home. He came with the idea of getting everyone back together and moving to Toledo to reunite with my mom and Jellybean."

Betty put on a smile of encouragement, choosing to efface any personal feelings she had on the matter. "That's what you've wanted for a long time, isn't it?"

Jughead nodded, keeping his eyes on her hands as they applied light pressure to his knees. "It would mean though that I wouldn't see Archie anymore, not on a daily basis at least. I mean, don't get me wrong, being roommates with him leaves much to be desired…" He didn't finish his thought, focusing instead on the most important one as he leveled his eyes with hers. "It would also mean that I wouldn't see you anymore, every day."

Thinking that he was saying it for her benefit, Betty jumped in swiftly. "But we could call, text, visit."

Jughead shook his head with a slight huff of frustration at her self-effacement. "I would miss you too much. It would be insufferable, unbearable, just the thought," he expressed while placing his hands over hers.

"I don't want you to give up on a chance like that for me," Betty instructed him in the sternest voice she could muster because just the thought of not having him here was earthshattering as well as heart-shattering. "Because as much as I love you, Jughead, I'm not worth it." She realized her slip-up too late, the words already out. All she could do was recover with any leftover grace she managed to pull together. She freed her hands from underneath his, not looking at him as she was planning her escape. "Promise me you'll really think about it, taking into an account that I'm a non-factor, alright"

She scrambled upwards, her flaming cheeks the only remaining testimony of her profession. Jughead had registered the words she had said, the strong emotion she had confessed to, but he was currently paralyzed, unable to speak or move. The remainder of his anger dissipated and the feeling of warmth and affection intensified as they were brought to the forefront. They coursed through him, spreading through his body until it almost crushed him. There was nowhere left to expand to. Not from his spot on the floor.

"Here's the plan," Betty seized the opportunity, taking advantage of Jughead's atypical passiveness. "I told Archie to keep me updated." She placed her phone demonstratively on the countertop. "Until then, let's get this place cleaned up for when your dad gets back."

It was her zeal that made him stir from his daze. A faint smile appeared on his face as he remembered something that his mother always used to tell him. Something about how when you're in a relationship with someone, friendly or otherwise it's because you've accepted that the good parts of that person mean more to you than the bad parts. Everyone has both anyway.

He took her in as she kicked off her shoes and twirled her hair up into a messy bun of sorts. The moves were forcibly controlled and she only turned to look back at him when his silence had gone on for too long. "Unless you want to sleep or don't want me here right now?"

Before the doubt could eclipse the blue of her eyes like clouds appearing in a stark blue sky, he was on his feet. Spurred on by all that he was feeling and needed to express in one of the two ways he knew how to, he was in front of her within seconds. His hands landed on the countertop on either side of her, bracketing her in. It was a daring move, perhaps a bit too carnal and sudden than he had intended so he relented a little by wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"I think I love you too," he admitted impulsively. "I don't have much to compare it to, of course, but it feels like what I picture love to be. This weightlessness and lightheadedness th—"

Betty swept up by him and the sentiment and tenderness of it all blindly swung her arms around his neck and kissed him. He deepened the kiss instantly, pushing her back gently against the counter although she barely noticed.

"All's well that ends well," he quipped, a little more smug than was necessary, while she gasped for breath. She could only nod, now the one who was left in a frozen state. "And I'm not leaving," he committed openly to her. "Not to Toledo or anywhere."

She struggled to find the right words, debating whether she should try to dissuade him from the decision once more. "I'll tell you everything from now on," were the words she settled on instead, making him a promise of her own. "Perhaps even to the point of over-sharing."

"That's a risk I'll gladly take," he responded in a serious tone. His hands were still on her, one cupping her face as he placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead. "And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long," he murmured against her skin.

"Sylvia Plath," Betty guessed, an automatic response as it was one of the games they sometimes played while in The Blue and Gold office, just the two of them.

It was a somewhat morbid and dark choice, wholly characteristic of him. Still, in the moment it was one of the most romantic things she had ever heard. The emotion was deeply embedded in the words and the effect was immediate as she felt herself swoon.

Jughead felt her knees buckle ever so slightly and he made sure he let her go little by little, not wanting to admit that he was feeling a little unsteady himself.

To blame were the weightlessness and lightheadedness that he had been aptly referring to.

[cleverlydone]

hello! i recently came across your blog and am so in love with it! if you don't mind me asking, how did you study for your sat i and ii(s)? congrats on all of your perfect scores :D

hello there! first off, i am so sorry that this answer is so late—my studyblr activity is somewhat sporadic, & so i end up not checking my inbox as much. my intent was never to ignore you, you lovely soul! second, you are so so kind; it’s so heartwarming to know that someone as effortlessly good as you is enjoying this blog.

i’m going to preface this by saying my studying habits were definitely Not the Best for any of these tests, but i hope something here is instructive! under the cut because it got really, really long:

SAT I

i started studying for the sat i the summer after seventh grade (my mom wanted to start me early); completed the gruber prep book on my own & ended up getting a ~2100 on my first full practice test

sat prep was fairly sporadic for a few years after that—i worked on learning vocabulary as organically as i could (learning a few definitions at a time & then incorporating them into my conversations & writing), & i did a few practice timed essays, but only a few practices on actual questions here & there

i started in on more intensive prep with the college board’s official prep book the summer before sophomore year

i flipped through the beginning of all the test-taking strategy sections in the college board book & decided that they wouldn’t be helpful (@christina why), so i started taking full practice tests right away

the reason i recommend practicing with full tests is that i think people often underestimate the effect that working for hours will have on their focus—with full tests, you can work on developing ‘test stamina,’ so to speak

with the help of these full tests, i developed & refined my personal testing strategy for the sat (which is weird & gross but basically i do the section the first time through as fast as i possibly can, which usually leaves me one-half to two-thirds of the testing time to double-check & triple-check & quadruple-check everything)

i saw my scores jump up really quickly—high 2300s after a few weeks (i tried to take one full test a week)

i think the reason my practice scores improved so fast after i picked the prep material back up, even with sporadic prep in the interim, is because i started studying so early on & was able to spend so many years both consciously & unconsciously learning & internalizing the way the test makers thought (that’s also the reason why i chose to take the old sat even though i was a sophomore; i didn’t want all those years of prep to go to waste)

essentially, i developed all the foundational sat skills i needed to use with all the sats i ever took because my mom started me early on & forced me to do it completely independently with only the prep book material to guide me, & i think that served me well later

i wrote a ton of practice essays in the two weeks or so leading up to the tests; i found old prompts & did almost one per day (this helped me pinpoint how i could take whatever knowledge i had readily available & mold it to fit the prompt—i’m not exaggerating when i say that i somehow incorporated a body paragraph about fahrenheit 451 or lord of the flies into every single one of those practice essays, since those were books i’d read & analyzed ~3 times for lit classes anyhow)

i’ve found that for me at least, studying for the sat was less about trying to enhance my overall intelligence (whatever that really means) & more about just trying to find patterns & get into the test makers’ heads

SAT IIs

math

i actually forgot that i was taking this test until literally the week before, so that week was a blur of stress

i’d been taking pre-calc that year (soph year), so i figured i already had most of the actual math concepts down & got the barrons prep book to see what the test was like (i’d used barrons freshman year for ap stats with good results)

immediately started getting scores i did not like from barrons practice tests (like 600–700 range) & panicked; made an overarching study guide tailored to myself (math mistakes i make often, things i often forget to check, etc.) & read it repeatedly

my barrons practice scores never improved, which led to more stress

i ended up becoming incredibly focused during the test due to my stress & found that the barrons material was way harder than the actual test

this is the incident that led me to swear by barrons because although this approach definitely doesn’t work for everyone, overpreparing & heightening my stress when i was on a time crunch allowed me to be pleasantly surprised during the test, which made for a much more relaxed test-taking experience (i.e., i had the freedom to check things over, etc.)

however, i didn’t really use a lot of the test-taking strategies that the barrons book provides, since i’d already developed my own method of standardized-test-taking as outlined above

korean

first started prep on this in middle school, when i was given a very old sat korean prep book by my local korean school (which, as i found later, was actually fairly accurate to the actual test, if a little harder)

i’m reasonably fluent in korean (i’d say i have the proficiency of maybe a middle schooler living in korea), having learned it at home & at korean school for many years, so i thought the practice was easy & figured this one would be a breeze; promptly forgot about it

signed up to take it a few years later under the totally wrongheaded assumption i wouldn’t have to do any additional studying, then realized after a few practices in the weeks leading up to the test that my listening & reading comprehension & grammar were all fine but my vocab was a weak spot

spent the last few nights before the test reviewing list after list of vocab & memorizing whatever i could, took a deep breath, & went into the test

(test actually ended up having not much difficult vocab at all, but heightened focus in the weeks before + speaking korean at home + korean school in elementary / middle school years all helped a lot)

literature

i first started preparing for this the summer before freshman year with the barrons prep book—read it & took notes on it, did a few of the activities, then took a few practice tests & did not like the scores at all (low 600s)

i got incredibly discouraged, figured a high score would be impossible, & didn’t return to it for a while

i pulled the book back out the summer before junior year to see if anything had changed, which i needed because the literature was the only other sat ii i had the knowledge to take at that time

i did most of the same things except skipped the note-taking; read over my old notes as a refresher instead

i took a few practice tests and scored in the low to mid 700s; at this point i was more or less resigned to a score in that range

went into the test more than a little terrified, but then realized that at least half of the terms / devices that i’d memorized from the barrons book weren’t covered & the questions were much more straightforward / simplistic

again, using barrons ended up massively overpreparing me—the sat lit is actually much more similar to the old sat’s critical reading section than i thought

& again, i didn’t really use many of the test-taking strategies that the barrons book suggests

i don’t regret using barrons, though; i learned several new literary terms (i’m a nerd & i love this stuff) & again, benefited a lot from the overpreparation factor

[theconservativebrief]

President Donald Trump vociferously defended Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, implied that he has dirt on an unnamed Senate Democrat whom he called “pretty aggressive” in “very bad situations,” and said he wants the FBI investigation into Kavanaugh to be “quick” and “comprehensive” — all while speaking to reporters Monday at a press conference that was initially about trade.

“What [Kavanaugh’s] wife is going through, what his beautiful children are going through is not describable, it’s not describable. It’s not fair,” Trump said. “I think it’s fair to do it to me because I have been going from day one, long before I got to office. For me, it’s part of my job description to handle this crap.”

The president has become increasingly annoyed at the stalled process on Kavanaugh’s nomination after multiple women came forward with sexual assault and misconduct allegations against him. The Senate called for a week-long investigation into the allegations on Friday, and Trump subsequently ordered the FBI to conduct it. There have been multiple reports that the White House is limiting the scope of the probe.

On Monday, after discussing the new trade deal the US has reached with Canada and Mexico, Trump took questions about Kavanaugh: “Okay, you people want to get off trade. You people are falling asleep with trade,” he said, almost egging on reporters to get to the Kavanaugh questions. “All right, let’s go, come on.”

One of the most bizarre moments in the press conference came when Trump pointed out that lawmakers aren’t “angels” and implied he has damaging information on a certain Democratic senator — but he wouldn’t say who.

“I’ll tell you what, I happen to know some United States senators, one who is, on the other side, who is pretty aggressive,” he said. “I’ve seen that person in very bad situations, okay? I’ve seen that person in very, very bad situations, somewhat compromising.”

A reporter later asked what he was referring to. “I think I’ll save it for a book like everybody else and I’ll write it,” Trump replied. “I’m not giving it to you.”

Beyond the blind accusation of the unnamed senator, Trump name-checked a couple of specific Democratic lawmakers as well.

He mentioned Sen. Richard Blumenthal from Connecticut, who he said “lied about Vietnam.” (Blumenthal made a handful of misleading or false claims about having served in the Vietnam war but has said it was unintentional.) He took a swipe at New Jersey Democratic Sen. Cory Booker, who he said ran Newark “into the ground” when he was mayor.

Trump also went after Sen. Dianne Feinstein, to whom Christine Blasey Ford sent a letter about her allegations in July, and asked why the California Democrat hadn’t made Ford’s claims public earlier. “If she wanted a thorough investigation, we had all the time in the world,” he said. “She didn’t have to wait until after the hearing was closed, essentially.”

Trump said everyone has skeletons in their closet — except the vice president.

“There are bad reports on everybody in here, most of the people sitting down here — except for Mike Pence, by the way,” he said, to laughter. “And if we find one on him, then I’m … that’s going to be it, that’ll be the greatest shock of all time.”

The Wall Street Journal, NBC News, and the New York Times reported over the weekend that the White House was putting restrictions on the FBI’s Kavanaugh probe. Trump refuted the reports on Twitter and on Monday said that he wants the investigation to go ahead as planned.

“What I said is let the Senate decide, whatever they want is okay with me, and, also, the FBI. I think the FBI should do what they have to do to get the answer,” he said.

Trump did point out Kavanaugh has undergone multiple FBI background investigations in the past.

“My White House will do whatever the senators want,” he said. “I’m open to whatever they want. The one thing I want is speed.”

Trump also said that if the FBI finds a witness who can corroborate one of Kavanaugh’s accusers’ stories, he would look at it. “I’m open,” he said, adding that Kavanaugh is a “fine man” and “great scholar.”

There have been questions about whether Kavanaugh lied about his drinking while in high school and college. He has said he didn’t drink heavily while he was young, others who knew him have refuted that claim.

A reporter asked Trump whether he would pull Kavanaugh’s nomination if he lied about his drinking. Trump responded by talking about the fact that he doesn’t drink.

“I don’t think [Kavanaugh lied],” Trump said. “I’m not a drinker. I can honestly say I’ve never had a beer in my life. It’s one of my only good traits. I don’t drink.”

In a brief moment of self-awareness, he acknowledged that alcohol would likely make his already volatile nature worse: “Can you imagine if I had? What a mess I would be? I would be the world’s worst,” he said.

Nearing the end of the press conference, a reporter asked if Trump has a “plan B” for Kavanaugh. Trump said he hopes he doesn’t need a backup but that he’s approaching the situation with an “open mind.”

“The person that takes that position is going to be there for a long time,” he said.

Even so, the president said he worried about how Kavanaugh has been treated. “I just think he’s an outstanding person. I think he’s been treated horribly. Even if you are going to bring up some of the subjects that were brought up, they didn’t have to treat him so viciously and so violently as they’ve treated him,” he said.

One more strange, awkward moment in the press conference came when Trump called on ABC’s Cecilia Vega.

Did I hear this right?

President: She’s shocked that I picked her. She’s in a state a shock.

Reporter: I’m not, thank you Mr. President.

Trump: That’s OK, I know you’re not thinking, you never do.

Reporter. I’m sorry?

Trump: No, go ahead. Go ahead. pic.twitter.com/Ss280FA7mK

— Talal Ansari (@TalalNAnsari) October 1, 2018

“She’s shocked that I picked her,” Trump said as she prepared to ask her question. “She’s in a state of shock.”

“I’m not, thank you Mr. President,” Vega replied.

“That’s okay,” Trump replied, and then either said I know you’re not “thinking” or “thanking,” adding, “you never do.”

Original Source -> 6 weird moments from Trump’s comments about Kavanaugh during the USMCA press conference

via The Conservative Brief

[generouslyteenagealpaca-blog]

Motor/Car Insurance Database.?

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has anyone been or is currently pregnant and without insurance? I see that it's possible to get individual insurance with a maternity package, has anyone applied for any of these? Does anyone have any experience in this situation?""

Full Coverage Insurance?

is full coverage insurance suppose to follow u to your next vehicle for the first 30-60 days?

Car insurance question?

Would it be cheaper to get insurance on a Golf GTI or a older muscle caR? because there are alot of classic car insurance companies who do great deals but i don't know and as a first car by the way. i would of thought as its an older car it would be cheaper

What's a good insurance company for motorcycles?

I live in Halifax, NS and looking for good insurance rates. Also, what type of insurance should I get? Full coverage? I would like to insure my soon-to-be 2000 Kawi Ninja 250.""

Can I sue my Auto Insurance Company?

In 2005, as part of our divorce agreement, my ex and I decided to keep the same auto insurance but under separate policies. We had been with this company for years. My policy was on auto pay meaning that the payments were taken directly from my account. He walked in to pay his. About 6 months after the divorce, I was pulled over for a routine traffic stop and was told I was driving an uninsured vehicle. Without insurance, my registration was also invalid. Both tickets totaled 1K. My car was taken into impound. I checked and found the officer was correct. On good terms with my ex, I told him what happened. He said for the past 6 months, each time he went in to make a payment, the girl HIS was already paid. Realizing what had happened. They were applying my payments to his automobile. I was furious. I notified the agent who initially did not want to accept blame, but since the payments were automatic and my account number was on each payment they took, they were responsible. The error was compounded by the fact that the cancellation notice went to HIS address (how dumb was that!) So I had no way of knowing that I was cancelled. I was without a car for 2 weeks and lost my job. After much haggling and many sleepless nights of wondering what to do without a job or a car, the insurance company finally admitted blame, paid the impound fees of $1,250.00. The agent also said they would handle the 2 tickets totaling 1K. FAST FORWARD TO 2010 in my state, the county did a scofflaw sweep and I was summoned to court with over 5 thousand other delinquent drivers to address unpaid tickets. The order was come to court by April 30th or be arrested. Realizing this had to be a mistake, but fearful of the law, I stood in line for over 5 hours in blazing heat, then sat in court another 5 hours waiting for my day in court. I was immediately threatened with arrest because the 2 tickets were not paid. Up to that moment, I had no idea the insurance company had not paid the 2 tickets. This time, not only was my insurance and registration cancelled, my license was suspended due to the age of the infraction (5 years). In front of the judge, I called the agents' office only to be told by the secretary that they had no intention to pay the ticket. Paying to get the car out of impound was enough. When the judge heard this she was shocked and let me off with a promise to pay in 5 days. She made me promise not to drive. With no way to get home but drive, I took a chance, and was pulled over. The officer informed me that due to the vast number of outstanding cases, tags bearing our county name would be targeted for a while (talk about a police state!). I showed him my documents from the court and headed home. This is a nightmare. Would I have a case if I filed suit against my insurance company for failing in their fiduciary responsibility to a 16 year client in good standing? By the way this company is one of the largest in the country.""

Marital status for car insurance?

trying to fill out an insurance quote and wondering what i come under for the maritial status, been living with my gf for around 6 ish months and we are engaged. these are the options i was given. married single common law partner(separate) civil partnership""

What determines how much the unemployed/disabled get paid?

I have to type up a report on unemployment insurance/diability insurance. I can't find out what determines their pay. Any help or resources would be greatly appreciated :) Also I need to interview an unemployment insurance agent. I don't know where to find one?

Student: Buy car with years free insurance?

I'm looking to buy a new car, and I have heard that you can get special deals where you get a years free insurance. I'm 18 and have one years ncb. Does anyone now of a deal like this currently on offer? Cheers :D""

Car Insurance?

Ok, first does anyone know which states do not require car insurance? Second question is do you have to have full coverage on a financed car? No silliness here real answers.""

Low Insurance Car For Teen Boy?

I am turning 16 in a couple of months and I need to know what USED vehicles would be best for low insurance. Nothing lower than 1998 and nothing higher than 2007. Please give me some suggestions. NO ugly cars either...

Immediate Medical Insurance Help Required?

Hi I am Rishika from Bangalore. I am new to this place. I had got a medical insurance done for my parents but It got expired one month back. Unfortunately, my mom is due for a surgery in the next week and I am looking for any quick medical Insurance help that I can get. I understand its too late to get a medical insurance done. I can arrange for the medical expenses by hand as of now. Is anyone aware of any policies from which I can reimburse the amount later. Or is anyone aware of any medical insurance people from whom I can make a deal and make it a cashless transaction using the insurance policy?? IM confused like hell. Please please help :(((((( :( Yours, Rishika""

Roommate Fell Off My Roof Will Homeowner Insurance Pay?

I asked roommate to put waterproof plastic on roof over-hang. He fell off roof and broke collar bone. We took him to ER. When he came home he needed more care then we could give him. He went to his cousins assisted-living hospital. He has Medicare and Medi-Cal, California. Will my homeowners insurance cover his unpaid bills? Can he sue for pain and suffering? Will insurance cancel my policy? He was been roommate for 3 years.""

Cheap Insurance (San Antonio)?

can you tell me any cheap auto insurance for a 95 model here in my area. san antonio tx

Is it illegal to fake my GPA for lower car insurance?

if so, can they do anything about it, like take me to court or have me arrested? i ****** up my fist semester of college and now that i have my license i have to get insurance. my dad said i better have at least a 3.0 or else.. should i just do it?""

How does insurance either supplied by an employer or by the government drive UP the price of health care?

How does insurance either supplied by an employer or by the government drive UP the price of health care?

How can the citizens pay the the deductibles for the only health insurance policies that are affordable?

I work 2 part time jobs and neither offer health insurance, so in 2014 I will have to buy some. One comparable to the one I had when I worked a full time job would cost $600 a month but would cover prescriptions with a $20 copay for generics with a $1500 deductible and a $4500 out of pocket maximum. That is out of what I can afford. The one I can afford is only $219 a month but has a $7500 deductible which would have to be met for any benefits and there is a $12,500 out of pocket maximum. If I got very sick I would be wiped out with that one, so it seems that I am in a Catch 22. I don't make that much money ($8 and $10 for the 2 jobs where I work 24 and 18 hours a week respectively.) Now I just pay the doctor out of pocket and I paid $375 this year for office visits and $150 for medicine. That was affordable and now I am forced to pay a premium in addition to the same amounts I paid for the same service. This thing is making me nervous. Affordable to me is no insurance. Give me a cyanide pill if I get a terminal diagnosis because being in the hospital and wiped out financially is not a good quality of life.""

Car Insurance quotes?

I am trying to get car insurance for my young grandson and the prices I have been quoted are extortionate. Is this something that any of you have down recently and, if so, can you give me any advice?""

Whats the cheapest british car insurance company for new drivers?

Whats the cheapest british car insurance company for new drivers?

Additional driver car insurance?

hi , i have a car and i have my car insurance my husband he just get his driving licence and he want to drive my car ,does he need to apply for car insurance for himself , or can i add him with me in my policy and how much will cost him . if i add him as additional driver on my policy is that will cost him to pay""

What happens if a 16 year old in NC is caught driving without being on the insurance policy?

The owner of the car has insurance on the car but his daughter is not listed as a driver on the policy.

Good insurance companies for young drivers?

Good insurance companies for young drivers?

Insurance on a S2000 for a 45 year old man?

How much would it cost for a 45 year old man with a good clean record to own a S2000? I'm only 22 and planning on buying a IS300 (with manual transmission). If I do find one the car will be under my dads name and the cost will be around $150 a month!!! But how much for the S2000 (and under my dads name)? I want the IS300 but there so hard to find in MN with manual transmission and with very low miles on!!! So if the S2000 doesn't cost too much or maybe as much as the IS300's insurance, I probably would consider getting the S2000 since it's a bit easier to find one! (plus they look better!) (and also both cars are around $15,000) Thanks in advance!""

How much will my insurance cost?

Im 18 and wanting to move out this august for college. The apartments im looking to rent is on average about 500 a month for me and im trying to figure out how much a month its going to cost me to live on my own. I have a 2002 Chevy trailblazer which is completely paid off. I dont know what insurrance company my parents have right now but i know for sure its not geico or progressive. I think its like blue shields or something or other. Any help is areciated! Thanks in advance!

Auto insurance fraud..how much trouble am i looking at?

i don't need to be judged..I made a dumb decision which could have resulted in me losing my life and im lucky i didn't. anyways here goes..so a supposed friend of mine told me she couldn't wait to teach me to drive..i told her i didn't want to drive until i got my permit. well after telling me that she pulls over and asks if i want to drive..i tell her no..she keeps pushing telling me she thinks i'd be good at driving and eventually after saying no 8-10 times i give in and we switch..i continued up the road and i made the right and i was maknig another right and i lost control and ended up on the sidewalk and crashed into a pole..airbags exploded and all..when immediately got out of the car and I asked her what we were going to do and she said to me so help me god if i lose my license and again i said what are we going to do? she said were going to say i was driving..we got ran off the road by a red truck..when the cops came i stuck with the same story she did and we went to the hospital and all..this happened a month ago..the vehicle was totaled and she collected money from the accident. I however felt so guilty i went and turned myself into the police and told them the truth about everything. the cop that was at the accident is who i spoke with..i filled out a witness report and the cop said that he was really glad that I came forward with the truth and that she would be in much more trouble than I and that he planned to take it easy on me since i came forward about it and because i am a mom..he said the most i will probably get is my license suspended..i am still waiting to get anything in the mail and i'm so nervous bc i don't know if i can get in worse trouble and was wondering what other people thought..honestly the whole thing has scared me from ever wanting to drive again and even though i wasn't the victim i really felt like it for days after the accident..i was very distraught..and i'm scared even being a passenger in a car now..i watch everything and get very scared fast. Can i get in trouble with the insurance company? I didn't give them a statement. I just told them about me going to the hospital and stuff..my supposed friend actually gave them the statement..they sent me a bunch of paperwork in the mail to have me mail back in so they could cover medical expenses but i never sent the stuff in or filled it out bc i didn't want the insurance company to pay for something that was my fault. I live in pa and i guess im just wondering how much trouble i can get in? or if i should be okay because i came forward with the truth.

I need cheapest auto insurance?

I am 17 years old, and i need an auto insurance that costs around $100-150 per month. i cannot afford higher than that.""

Motor/Car Insurance Database.?

I have Bought my insurance with a company over the phone/online. I was just wondering how long it will take for the insurance deatails to get onto the MID As i need to tax the vehicle.    Thank you!

What is the estimated insurance price for a 2012 Chrysler 300S?

Base price is $33,000 Buyer is 19 years old foreign college student Disregard the location, what is the approximate insurance rate RANGE he would pay yearly Would it exceed $1000 Thank you for your responses""

Can I get a job at a car insurance place at 16?

I want to work so then my car insurance would be cheaper

Affordable health insurance for a 19 year old?

I am a 19 year old white female, i live in California, i go to a community college part time, and i babysit and work part time as a substitute custodian(no benefits). Im looking for really cheap even free health insurance since I make roughly $120-$400 a month. I've looked at my school's health care, it doesn't cover what i want(just covers family planing and std test). I would like something that would cover doctor visits or i pay a small copay. If anyone knows what i can do or where to look, i would greatly appreciate it.""

Cheapest car insurance 17 yr old?

I'm about to take my driving test soon and am looking into buying a black Vauxhall Corsa 1.2 standard, probably around 2001 (new reg plates). I don't have specific number plates but I've been getting ridiculous quotes of 3,000 to 4,000. Does anyone know of any cheap way for 17 year olds to get their OWN policy (not interested in doing illegal fronting stuff)""

What car to get for my first that will be low on insurance?

How much for the car and insurance it will cost me ?

Bankruptcy and life insurance?

I have plain old life insurance with my husband as beneficiary. Do I have to cancel life insurance if I file bankruptcy? I want to have this for security for my husband and five children should anything ever happen to me. It has no cash value.

How much will insurance be for a MarkIV Supra TT?

I'm 19, I've never had any bad driving history that's recorded, I've been insured for two years. I'm single and have a job that can certainly afford the car. After looking around I've seen lot's of factors that affect the price but I'm just looking for a number for an answer. of course I'm not expecting it to be entirely accurate but I'm looking for anything close.""

""Car accident, no insurance?""

I just got into an accident 5 days ago. I still don't believe it was my fault if anything maybe both of ours. Regardless she had minor damage. She was on the phone obviously not paying attention as I was pulling out of the driveway when she was attempting to pull into a drive way across from the one I was pulling out of. So as you can imagine it's hard telling. We both have scratches on our left hand side bumpers but she has a dent that can be fixed. She had her friend with her so it was hard to really even defend myself because it was her word against mine. She called the police, thank God they passed because no one was hurt. They just told her to take down my information and deal with it. She took down my license plate, took pictures, such a drama queen, it honestly wasn't that bad. She has my license number too but when I when I went to call my insurance provider, they said it wasn't renewed. No police report, and she hasn't called me with a quote. How much trouble can I get in??""

What Multiline Insurance Company is the Best?

I need an insurance company that will do all line of insurance. Life, Auto, Home, Disability, Long Term Care and even Financial products. I heard COUNTRY insurance does that but I'm not sure.""

What does Mercury Auto Insurance Cover? (Bumper to Bumper)?

Okay I currently have mercury car insurance and have the bumper to bumper.. I have a few things to do to my car but wanted to know exactly what parts are covered for example are the Shocks covered?

Why is my insurance going up?

It is 189 a month now, but in January it's going up to over 400. Is this part of the affordable care act?""

Health insurance. Self employed.?

Hello. I am 24 and self employed as a driver. Live in Minnesota. Made little to no money last year after all expenses. Broke even. Have no insurance. Health insurance I mean. I have looked and everyone has plans you can buy from 68$/mo with 10k deductible and so on. All are pretty much the same for my age. Being self employed. Struggling to make money. Doesn't the state have their own low cost insurance I can apply for. Anything besides the Buy your insurance Today type deal. Thank you in advance !!!!!!

What are cheap car insurance companies in nj? Or anywhere?

New driver and looking for an affordable price for auto insurance

What insurance companies will insure someone with a DUI on his record?

My boyfriend and I have our car and house insured under State Farm, but apparently they have a zero tolerance policy and have dropped him from the insurance. My agent was saying something about 're-evaluating' at some point in the future, but he was being so rude to me about it (I wasn't the offender) that I didn't really listen, and have no interest in staying with State Farm (at least with that agent). I assume if State Farm has a 'zero-tolerance policy,' they're not the only company that does, so what companies would insure us? We understand that we'll have to pay higher premiums, which is fine, since it's the consequence of his actions. I'd just rather not go with some cheesy insurance like The General or Safe Auto.""

How much will my auto insurance go up for speeding?

i live in iowa. im 20. i have had my licence for 4 years. i have geico insurance just the state minimum. this is my first violation. i was going 41 in a 30. how much will my auto insurance go up? right now im paying about 40 a month

Which of these is the correct Republican opposition to universal healthcare?

A. The government can't run anything right B. Government-run healthcare will be too successful, and private insurance companies won't be able to compete As with the Obama is simultaneously a Muslim, a Radical Black Christian, and Godless Communist argument, sooner or later you are going to have to pick one and go with it...at least in this place some of us like to call reality ...""

Can my mom insure my car if her name isn't on the title?

Right now I am driving a car my mom bought so only she is on the title and she insures it. I just bought a new one and was wondering if I put the title of the car in my name, can she insure it under her name. I just turned 19 and if I got a policy by myself in my own name I would have to pay more than twice as much as I do now (I give my mom the money for insurance its just under her name).""

Which brand of car is cheap to buy and insure for a 19yr old who has just passed?

i live in UK, London. im guessing something small would be cheap like a vauxhall corsa, but are ther any other alternatives because everyone i know who passed has a corsa. i want to be unique...kinda. also what price would i be looking at? anything under 500?""

Question about AUTO INSURANCE?

HI, i have a question about car insurance i am 19 years old from india.now i am in newyork usa.my question is that last week i buy car insurance in which i write i am married and my wife is in india,she not come in usa and she have o lience so that they give me marriage discount.but in truth i am not married,i do this beacuse my insurance decrease if i do this.niw i want to know that is this not a problem for me or i am not get in trouble""

How much would car insurance cost for me?

1) I will be 18 by the time I get my car 2) I'm a male (my friend said that counts) 3) I will have a weekend job, and go to college 4) I have never gotten a ticket, or into an accident 5) I will own the car, not rent it How do I sound to insurance companies?""

What old coupes are there that are cheap to insure for 17 or 18 year old?

I want a cheap coupe and be able to also have cheap insurance on one because I want to customize a car as a project and keep adding more things to it slowly. Also I don't want one that is from the 1970's I want one from the 90's or higher like the Mazda RX7 or the Toyota Supra. The problem is these cars don't cost much but they're a hell lot of money to insure because of their power output. Please don't tell me any hatchbacks because I hate hatchbacks with passion. I could live with one stock but I want to customize my car so I want it to be a good looking coupe or a saloon, thanks.""

How much does it add to your insurance if you add a body kit to your car worth about 500 if your 18???

How much does it add to your insurance if you add a body kit to your car worth about 500 if your 18???

I recently got a suspended license will that affect my insurance rates?

I recently got my license suspended for an underage drinking charge. i wasn't driving. i was at a party that got busted . i'm 20 years old and looking to buy a new car i wanted to know if this fact would be detrimental in me affording car insurance. i'm however paying to have a permit to drive to work and school with my suspended license.

Low premium high return life insurance policies of life insurance corporation of india?

is jeevan saral a good choice?

Why do insurance companys treat workers in the motor trade differently to any other? ie higher quotes etc?

because i work in the motor trade im unable to have the part of my insurance that allows me to drive other vehicles (such as family members) that are already insured why is this?

Motor/Car Insurance Database.?

I have Bought my insurance with a company over the phone/online. I was just wondering how long it will take for the insurance deatails to get onto the MID As i need to tax the vehicle.    Thank you!

What are the monthly insurance rates for a 2007 GT Eclipse and 2007 GT Tiburon?

I am trying to compare which would be a better/more affordable car to have. I am 19. I know age has alot to do with it, so even if you are older just tell me your payments plz, and if you can estimate how much it would be for me, that would be great. Thanks.""

Why is my Auto Insurance so high?!?

I am 20 years old paying full coverage insurance on a 2011 Nissan Versa that I am making payments on. My Credit is middle of the pack and I've never had a wreck or a ticket. So, can anyone tell me why my insurance is twice as high as anyone I talk to with the same set up?!? My insurance company said that it was strange, but can't find out why it's that high and this is my 2nd insurance company. The previous one charged a little more. I've gotten quotes and they're either close to my monthly currently or are more. I am paying nearly 500 dollars a month... I hope someone out there can help me lower this insurance. Thanks ahead.""

Guess our car insurance?

Primary driver: 24, perfect driving record, female, some college completed but no degree The car: Something mediocre from the late 80s to late 90s The insurance: Minnesota, metro area, daily 10-20 mile commute each way, we want all the proper liability and personal injury coverage but don't care about collision Seriously, just guess. We'll take any ideas. We completely know it varies by each of those factors and many more, and we already know the national average. If you know the state average, that's one step up on us. I'd get a quote, but my roommate is the one seriously thinking about cars right now, and I don't want to do anything in someone else's name. She'll be getting quotes soon, but right now I'm a little concerned about the insurance companies possibly running credit checks, as I'm under the impression a slew of them at a time can lower your score, and we don't know what car we're getting yet. So once that's settled, we'll check into it for real. We just want to TRY to budget before we seriously car hunt.""

How much does renter's insurance cost?

How much does renter's insurance cost?

Wat is da average cost of car insurance for a brand new car driven primarily by a teen?

INSURANCE, TEENAGER, COST""

""Cant B on husbands car insurance, he said no cuz dad is on it & he wasnt gonna stop lending his car 2 his fam.""

I would like to be on my husbands car insurance. He said no because his dad is on it and he was not gonna stop lending his car to his family. He would however open a separate account for me. I asked him to stop lending the car he said no, it was his car.""

Can anyone tell me Obama's discount rate for Health Insurance?

He states healthcare will be affordable for everyone? What %age discount will we get? How much will insurance be (per month) for those battling chronic diseases that cost in the tens of thousand of $ each month? Do you think those people denied, due to preexisting health conditions, will be able to afford insurance now?""

""My car was stolen and recovered, insurance are offering me a low figure or they will repair it.any advis?""

car: renault megane dynamiquie, 1.9 dci, mileage 106,000, black, 5dr, before stolen: smooth drive, nothing wrong with it.. after stolen recovered: insurance says it will cost 2300 to repair it hence offered me 'total loss' and got me a 'salvage offer' of 4k. Insurance is saying I only got two opetions accept offer or have it repaired. I think offer is low and dont want to get it repaired in case something else goes wrong with afterwards.. I always thought you can reject first offer so how come in this case I am not getting the option to reject offer??? Insurance are saying they are getting on 4k from salvages for the car hence wont give me more then that.. but shouldnt my insrance top up with some more or am I being silly? please advise.....""

Which insurance is the cheapest insurance in houston?

I am 21 year old and I got no insurance for my car. so, which insurance is the best and cheapest insurance in houston. Help me!!""

On average how much would it cost for an independent living 15 year old girl to get good health insurance.?

On average how much would it cost for an independent living 15 year old girl to get good health insurance.?

I need affordable insurance on my car any suggestions?

well i've been driving around for 9 months now w/out insurance. my car's a 2001 dodge neon standard model and i paid cash for it (no car note). im afraid that if im pulled over by the chp my car will get towed. im on a budget and i really need an affordable monthly premium. im 28 yrs old i got my driving license at 26 yrs old then got 2 tickets like 2 months later. one ticket was a failure to yield on a right turn w/ a red light and as a result i caused an accident but there was no bodily harm or property damage to the other driver only to my car it was totaled and i wasn't harmed. i recently was pulled over and given a speeding ticket too. what is the difference in full vs. liability insurance? i do know that liability is cheaper. which should i consider? also does anyone know of any insurance co. that don't require a huge down payment to start?and would insure my car w/out a huge monthly premium?

Insurance on Giving Birth?

Me and my husband don't have any insurance and we want to have a baby, what is the average monthly payment for insurance that will cover everything from the ultra violet sound to the monthly check-ups to the auctual giving birth in the hospital.""

""How much does tornado insurance cost? (to cover only my house, but not what is inside the house)?""

i have car insurance right now with allstate where i pay 50 $ every month, how much would it be if i add tornado insurance to cover only my house but not what is inside the house? I know you dont know, but i just want you to tell me approximatley how much please.""

Does anyone know an insurance plan for health and dental?

I am in need of health insurance and dental and i a in between jobs does anyone out there know a decent affordable insurance company that offers help to people like me thank you in advance

How much does speeding ticket cost in California?

I got pulled over going 92 on a 55 mph because I went by to pass a slow car in front of me. I switched to the passing lane and sped up to pass. I was just wondering how much the ticket cost me. Does age matter? I am 18, and I'm wondering if that adds up the cost too.""

Where can i get information on the popularity among savings insurance vs health insurance?

I would like to know which is higher on the premium you have to pay for savings and health insurance? savings or health insurance is higher? how can i get info on this?

How can i get free health insurance?

i live in Pennsylvania. i need health insurance. i am 18, live with my boyfriend at his moms house. i have no job, she has no job, no one in the house has a job. my mom moved to florida so i can't have her help me anymore. how can i get free health insurance? like completely free. i can't even remember the last time i went to the doctors, i really should go for a checkup. please help.""

What is the cheapest insurance company?

What is the cheapest insurance company?

So i got my estimate for my auto insurance?

And i don't know how to read most of it.... like... what does R&I mean? under Op. is there a legend i can look at?

Health Insurance in US?

I would like to know if health insurance is mandatory in some states of the US.

Idea of what monthly insurance rates are for new drivers?

I am a new driver and would like an idea of insurance rates for new drivers, I know its high. i live in Connecticut and so far Ive been told AAA is the cheapest for new drivers. Also would i pay more if i drive and SUV rather than a car Any advice on how i can pay at least a reasonable amount monthly?""

Who can suggest an affordable Health Insurance Company in California???

Need to find afforadble health care and fast...

Good maternity insurance in Michigan?

We are looking for good affordable maternity insurance here in Michigan. Everything that I've found has a huge waiting period, and they still expect me to pay through the entire time. Any help?""

Is a jeep grand cherokee overland reliable w.cheap insurance for 16 yr old?

15 now looking to get one possibly is it good for me

Is a Pontiac Grand Am considered a sports car?

Want to know if it'll be a higher insurance cost..... Thanks. :3

Motor/Car Insurance Database.?

I have Bought my insurance with a company over the phone/online. I was just wondering how long it will take for the insurance deatails to get onto the MID As i need to tax the vehicle.    Thank you!

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/tip-cheap-car-insurance-florida-yahoo-yvonne-wesley/"