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hobiwonder · 5 years

Text

Call out my name | (m)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut. Heavy Angst.

Warnings: Very heavy angst, revenge fucking, oral, dirty talk, creampie, depiction of alcoholism, mentions of abandonment, brief scene of a one night stand, anal fingering, slight non/con but not really. Toxic relationship. OC is very fucked up and so is hoseok.

Summary: Hoseok needed closure.

Words: 10k+

A/n: my beta reader will scream at me for posting it without running it by her khvbwufkbvkwb sorry ily liela but im impulsive. I fixed most things but here ya go. BUT anyway, please read this after careful consideration. It is quite heavy angst. Even i wouldn’t read this type of stuff if i wasn’t feeling it already and then ended up writing it lol. Just tread carefully is all i’m saying. Let me know what you think if you do end up reading this hgjtcdydythmfvujv

For the full experience of pain listen to these songs and perceive the lyrics from Hoseok’s point of view: Call out my name and I was never there by the weeknd, Blue Side and boy meets evil by our beautiful wonderful sunshine hobi that i love very much.

The wind rustled your hair, the cold night air rendering you almost motionless from the chill creeping up your body and settling into your bones. Twigs snapped underneath the weight of your feet trudging through the cemetery. Looking behind and around you every couple of seconds hoping to spot the person you were wishing was still well or at least alive. The night was still relatively young and you were thankful for the call you received before it was too late and you were much too far away to be concerned about anything, much less about a grown man drinking himself to oblivion in front of his mother’s grave. Shaking your head at the thought, your tongue felt bitter at the inner turmoil of your heart, knowing that you still cared. You still fucking cared. Why else would you have left your apartment because of one, barely a minute-long call letting you know Hoseok was nowhere to be found?

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N” hearing Yoongi’s voice waver, your stomach dropped, knowing instantly something was not quite right. “Is… Is Hoseok with you?”

“Why would he be?” A sigh. A breath inhaled. The unspoken questions resonating with you without having to be allotted into the air, “To beg you to take him back? Cut his own balls off just to have you back?”

“He’s not at the company. He’s nowhere. I’m… not sure what to do.” Yoongi sounded exhausted, at the end of his faculties at his best friend and business partner’s sudden desertion from the face of earth. Closing your eyes, you asked god above to afford you with the strength you needed to deal with the expected.

“I might know. I’ll give you a call when I find him.” You hang up, grabbing your coat, and head for your car.

That’s how you’d ended up at the cemetery you knew your… you didn’t exactly know what to call Hoseok. What he was to you. He was your everything and he was your nothing. Every holy entity probably cursed you enough to last you a lifetime or two. Knowing how much you had fucked up a perfectly good man, willing to give you everything but you had to go and unleash your demons and be your overbearing self. Making decisions for him, about his love and if he was allowed to give it to you. You knew that Yoongi only asked you as a last resort. He detested you for ever leaving Hoseok and breaking whatever you had built with him. Yoongi was a fierce friend and that meant swallowing his pride and asking the woman who had devastated his friend to the point of relying on alcohol, his least favourite potion, just to have Hoseok safe. Though Yoongi had contemplated for a while if you were a graver danger than the chilling weather outside. Only you would know where Hoseok would be at 2 in the morning, drinking his sorrows away in front of his mother’s grave, that he had learnt about, not too long ago.

Taking out your phone and turning on the built-in flash light, you looked around as you took several rights towards the sound of a bottle crashing against, what you guessed, was cement. You walked for a few more meters and there he was. Leaning against the cement slab on which his mother’s name was carved.

Hoseok knew you were here before you had even said his name. Were you real or just an illusion he had envisaged up in his inebriated state? He wasn’t sure. He was too occupied, an air of melancholy surrounding him. He was cursing his dead mother out enough to put even the foulest men to shame. Anyone who didn’t know his situation would probably brand him as a lunatic, cursing at a grave as the bottle of whiskey steadily disappeared, burning his pharynx, sending him further into his drunken haze, making it easier to blame all of his misfortunes, failed relationships and bonds and his inability to detach himself from toxicity such as you, on his mother. His fucking mother who had abandoned him at the tender age of 9 at a fair. He remembered everything. It made it all the easier to damn her to hell as he drank in celebration of her death anniversary. Another year, without a monster in this godforsaken world. He snickered bitterly, the smooth taste of the whiskey making it easier to swallow the lump in his throat that was threatening to almost cut off his air supply.

A hand on his shoulder, gentle and warm, tentative. Nothing like you.

“Hoseok, let’s go.”

He flung your hand off him like it had been dipped in acid, burning him even through the covered skin it never touched.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Your expression tightened.

“Okay, then. Yoongi is worried, it’s time to go.” Trying to reason with him, your voice had taken a lower, softer undertone. Your hand reached down, trying to grasp the bottle of liquor that he held so tightly against his chest when he refused to budge, taking another big gulp. A gasp was torn from your lips as your warm hand touched his icy skin as he lacked any form of warm clothing apart from his suit jacket that did nothing to provide him with substantial heat.

“You’re going to freeze if you stay out any longer, let’s go.”

“Maybe then, it’ll hurt less.” The words spoken so softly, you almost think, wish, you had imagined them. They were more chilling than the storm itself and you cursed yourself for being this affected. The silence that ensued after he had spoken was nothing short of throttling. You sighed in exasperation; you didn’t have time to fight with him. Not when he was intoxicated and about to get frost bitten. A million things ran into your head, yet you couldn’t rack one expedient thought out to respond to him. To tell him you were sorry. Sorry that it had to be this way. Sorry that it had to end. But to him, all he saw was the exterior. And he wanted nothing more than to conjure up the strength to scream and shout at you to go away from his life. To stop coming back and ruining him for anyone else. He hated you. He hated you so much for making him want to do nothing but be a pathetic shell of a man, waiting to be accepted by the woman who had rejected and humiliated his feelings over and over and over. Yet here he was. A hypocrite. Rejecting you outwardly but keeping you locked tightly in his heart so the remnants of the lover you were to him, stayed. Feeding the delusional part of his brain, telling him that he stood a chance in your heart that was home to nothing but bitterness and so much self-loathing it had no room for the healing his love, he had hoped, would provide you.

“Hoseok, please. You’re drinking yourself into liver failure. Yoongi is worried.” He looked at you. Really looked at you, and it perturbed him that his damned heart skipped so many beats he thought he was actually having a heart attack. Why did he still see a halo around your head when all you did was break him? He had shared everything with you and you had gone right ahead and torn him apart. Dissembling him, piece by piece until you took and took and nothing but a skeleton was left of what was a loving, caring and giving man he once thought himself to be. You were poisoning him and he knew it. Yet, he wanted nothing more than to be wrapped around in your arms that were currently being held around you, trying to shield yourself from the cold gust of wind that left your cheeks rosy and your eyes watering.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you, Yoo-”

“Why are…Youhere?” A pause. A breath taken in so tranquilly you weren’t sure you actually truly breathed.

“Because no one else had an idea where you were.”

“But you did.” His accusatory tone made you look down as if you were guilty of this fact. Hoseok rested his head onto the stone slab, regretting yet another moment of weakness where he had opened up to you. Telling you a few months back that he’d found his mother, albeit only her grave, but it had given him solace, a sense of relief that he had found her dead rather than alive. Or that’s what he told himself.

“I did.” Nodding your agreement, kicking the rubble beneath your feet, wanting to be anywhere but here. With Hoseok reminding you of what a monster you were. No good for him. The last bit was your own belief, Hoseok was too good to think that.

“Does it make you feel good? Knowing you’ve won once again? That no one will probably ever know me like you do, because you know-”

“No, I-”

“-that I’ll never be able to open up to anyone again? So you can continue to save me, save the fucking day and be able to see me without having to have the burden of loving me. Are you satisfied?”

Clenching your jaw, you barely restrained your tongue, ready to deny all the charges. But you couldn’t. Because to some extent, they were true. You were a coward, too afraid to love him like he deserved so you reeled in your self-righteousness, thinking you were doing a veracious deed by keeping him at an arm’s length, resorting to catching fleeting glimpses into his life through the mishaps he found himself in often and to what only you knew how to pull him out off. It was your twisted way of keeping him in your life while simultaneously telling him he wasn’t worth the fight you’d have to go through with your demons, to keep him. You were a disaster for him, yet he failed to see that.

“Not everything I do is about you, Hoseok.” Yes it is!You wanted to shout from roof tops. “I have called Yoongi, the car will be here in 5 minutes to pick you up.” Hoseok chuckled at your obvious dismissal of his previous accusations.

“You’re a fucking liar, Y/N. Everything you do is to trap me so much so that I can’t even breathe without you helping me.” Hoseok, with much effort, pulled himself to his feet stumbling, coming closer to your figure that was starting to retreat at his close proximity.

“You know what the sad thing is? I don’t even want you to stop. I’m in love with you and you don’t even care.” Hoseok felt like his heart was tearing apart, eyes welling up with unshed tears clouding his vision as he leaned closer to your face.

“You’ve… You’ve broken me.” Tears sliding their way down his pale cheek as his eyes closed themselves, seemingly surrendered in the moment. He looked utterly defeated and it made you want to fling yourself off a bridge. You hadn’t anticipated such defeat from him. You wanted to shake him, tell him to yell at you. Call you a cold blooded monster, anything but this. Anything but this look of pure crushing vanquish and hurt across his face. So clear that you felt it in your bones. Felt the pain he was feeling, almost tasting it on the tip of your tongue.

The sound of a car pulling in the rubble filled parking lot interrupted any measly response you might have conjured up or worse, fell to your knees to ask him for forgiveness. Instead, you gathered yourself and looked him in the eyes one last time as you heard footsteps approaching you both.

“You’re not in love with me, Hoseok.”

Before he could respond, you spun around, walking back the way to your car as if you were being chased, about to be prey to a dangerous predator. When in reality, you were the only predator, praying on Hoseok’s feelings. Being inside the safety and the much needed warmth from the heater you had cranked up on your way before, the events that had conspired just moments before really began to settle in. You had ruined everything with Hoseok. Cut off any chances of a future you might have had with him. Alas, in the end, you were your own demise. The incessant voice and the circumstances, remained at the back of your mind, convincing you that it just had to be this way.

___________________________________________________________________________

Hoseok could feel the worst hangover creeping up to overtake his senses since his college graduation party. Only this time, he hadn’t forgotten anything that had taken place just before he had blacked out in the back of Yoongi’s escalade. Remembering every bitter detail of the night, your indifference to his confession; not even a second glance spared his way before you had rid yourself of him and left him weeping and being a pathetic mess of a man. He had never felt more vulnerable in that moment, hoping to make you realise that what you both had meant so much to him, only to find out that it in fact, meant much more to him than it ever did to you. Vividly remembering the day, you had shut him out of your life, with nothing more than a text. When he had confronted you the next day thinking it was just your insecurities creeping up again, instead he was faced with your calm and apathetic gaze.

“What are you saying? You can’t just ‘terminate’ this relationship. This isn’t a damn contract, Y/N.” Exasperated, he had run his hand through his hair for what seemed like the hundredth time, pacing back and forth in his office as you sat in the chair across from his own, hands in your lap looking ahead. Professional as ever.

“Details are unimportant. I’m sorry Hoseok but,” You had taken a deep breath looking as much composed as he was close to losing his mind at how easy all these words seem to come to the tip of your tongue, spoken with such assurance that had him bewildered, “We don’t want the same things. I thought… I thought I wanted this. Us.”

“So that’s it? You give me a two weeks’ notice of your resignation along with dumping me or whatever the fuck the time we spend together meant to you? Jesus Christ Y/N, are you going to move to a different country next?” He couldn’t believe it, that you had so easily given up your position at the company just because whatever you had with him, was over.

“I’ve been offered a position elsewhere for a while, I can assure you this is just… a messy coincidence. It’ll be best if we don’t work together.” You had stood up, smoothing your skirt over, carefully avoiding eye contact with him, standing in place for a few seconds. He watched you as you stood in silence, looking across his desk to the sun setting outside, hues of orange and pink shining in his office through the various sky scrapers surrounding his company building. He raked his brain for any and every word he could think of to make you stay, understand why and how the sudden change in your behaviour had come about. He knew he was lying to himself with the thought that it was a sudden change. That he hadn’t seen you gradually pull away from him, emotionally and physically, only the skeleton of you remaining in the nights when he’d cradle you against his figure, trying to omit even the slightest bit of sincerity from your form that would lay emotionally torpid beneath him. A mere ghost of the woman he had made love to before. He was sure it was love. So sure that you reciprocated his sentiments as well.

Before you could leave the room, he grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around to face him.

“What happened, Y/N? W-What did I do? Why are you pulling away? Please tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.” He was sure he had almost looked manic, desperation lacing his words, hoping to reason with you.

“I told you Hoseok, I-I don’t want this. Please, just let me go.” He knew you didn’t just mean literally. He had fucking known, yet he continued to humiliate himself.

“I know you think you shouldn’t be with me but please, I love you,” he had taken your face in his hands, drawing your body closer as if to convey some of his feelings and pour them into your body and reignite the feelings that were no longer there, “and you love me. We can make this work Y/N, please.”

You had broken yourself from his hold with such ferocity you would think that he had been assaulting you instead of the tender embrace he had captured your form in to. And then you had spoken those words, with such guarantee, they chilled him to the core. The words that tore him apart, let him know that this was a lost cause.

“You know that I have never said what I don’t mean, made any claims that don’t stand a chance. My decision is final Hoseok. I’m sorry but I don’t want this.”

It was then he had realised, you had never once uttered the words, I love you, to him.

And damn it all to hell and back, no amount of liquid poison could make him forget the pain and humiliation you had caused him. No amount of alcohol could cause permanent damage to the part of his heart and brain that still clung to the devotion and ardour he held for you. He would’ve reminisced in his reflections longer if it hadn’t been for the shrill ring of his cell phone. The screen signalling that his best friend was on the line, the only reason he even decides to reach for his phone.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Thanks Yoongi, for dragging my drunk, delinquent ass at 3 am in the morning from the freezing cold and to my house and in my own damn bed so I don’t freeze to death. Oh no problem Hoseok! That’s what friends are for!”

Hoseok just closed his eyes, letting Yoongi run his mouth and call him out on his obviously lacking mannerisms. Sighing, he thanked his best friend, as he deserved.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, asshole.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, too hungover to fight with his friend. He needed a damn drink and he needed it ASAP. Putting his phone on speaker, Hoseok climbed out of his bed with much difficulty, wanting to do nothing but fall back into the pillowy, literally, heaven that was his bed. Where the smell of you still lingered from weeks ago. Rubbing his face, he walked over to the whiskey bottle on his minibar, the glass cork making a clinking noise as he set it aside to pour himself a drink right before Yoongi’s shout sounded from the phone.

“Don’t you fucking dare pour that drink, Jung Hoseok. I will come down and beat your fucking ass if you got shit faced today when it is barely noon.”

“Time isn’t real Yoongi, get over it.” Pouring himself a drink, Hoseok looks at the phone in his hand, contemplating if he should hang up and be miserable on his own without any damn interruptions.

“Hoseok,” Yoongi’s earnest voice and the way it audibly softens, makes him halt, “as your business partner, your childhood best friend and most importantly, as someone who cares about you, I’m advising you that drinking yourself silly every day like you’ve been doing for the last four weeks is not healthy.”

He lets out a snort in disbelief at himself, as if he didn’t already know that. Yoongi however, goes on after a large exhale as if to prepare himself for what he’s about to say.

“I know… it’s have been hard for you to not fall down that hole. I know it must hurt like hell, believe me. But you have to pull yourself out of it. You can’t change what’s happened but please,” Yoongi almost pleads, “you need to let go.”

“I know, hyung.” Hoseok hears Yoongi, but he doesn’t want to. His heart doesn’t seem to be listening either. He knows that unless he tries, there is no other way to relieve himself of his pain. It’s funny how usually, it’s the other way around. Hoseok is the endless beam of energy and hope for Yoongi and his lethargic personality. Now that the roles are reversed, he truly begins to appreciate his best friend.

“Good… why don’t you come in to the office today, huh? It hasn’t been the same without you, brother.” Hoseok grins slightly at the sincerity in Yoongi’s voice, not being used to the elder’s open display of such brotherly affection.

“Okay, hyung. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Oh thank god, I’ve been holding down the fort while you sulked but it’s about time you came back.”

“Don’t make me change my mind.” Yoongi laughs before hanging up. Managing a multi-million-dollar enterprise that they built together was never a one-person job. Hoseok feels a pang of guilt deep within his chest thinking about Yoongi being on his own while he’d been too lost in his own mind when he wasn’t drunk, to even check in on him. If for no one else, Hoseok decides then and there, he needs to get himself together at least for Yoongi and tips his glass of whiskey, in to the sink.

“Look who emerged from the bat cave. Sure you got no burns from the sunlight on the way over?”

“Hyung, I will throw my phone at you if you don’t shut the fuck up. Christ, the looks from the staff were enough. Do I look that bad?”

Did he really? It was a wonder no one had bumped into each other or some other dramatic soap opera shit when he had entered the main floor and an audible hush had fallen around him as he passed his staff and went straight for his private elevator to the top floor. It was no better when he had entered his floor and all the staff on his way over to Yoongi’s office, which was next to his own, had parted like he was Moses and they were the red sea. Their hushed ‘Good mornings’ had barely passed his ears and he had appreciated that no one tried to be overly enthusiastic. But he figured it was probably not because he was hungover and more because they weren’t sure if their boss was going to actually going to stay.

“Unfortunately, you look great as always, even when you’re 80% alcohol right now and probably took a shower after a month,” Yoongi murmurs ‘Handsome motherfucker’ under his breath as he pours Hoseok a shot of espresso. He rolls his eyes at Yoongi’s snide compliment.

“Anyhow,” handing Hoseok his coffee, Yoongi sits back in his chair as Hoseok walks over to the floor to ceiling glass window, overlooking Seoul city, “I’m glad you’re here, Hoseok.”

Hoseok nods at Yoongi, not finding it in him to do more, knowing there was still something he needed to get off his chest.

“Why did you send her hyung?” The frustration in his voice evident.

“I didn’t know where you were! How was I supposed to know you were at the cemetery when you don’t tell me shit?”

“You didn’t have to.” The bitterness of the espresso makes it easier to make implications that his best friend definitely didn’t appreciate.

“Excuse me? You’re the one always grilling me about my life, making me ‘lean on’ you. Why can’t I do the same for you? Don’t be a hypocrite.” Yoongi leans back in his chair, trying to find the right words to tell Hoseok that he needs to let somebody in on the thoughts in his head. Especially in a time when he’s so fragile because of you. Hoseok downs the rest of his espresso and runs his hands through his blonde tresses, pulling for a few seconds in sheer aggravation at himself.

“I know… I know. I’m sorry I made you worry. I just… didn’t want to see her.” Yoongi gets out of his chair as he listens to Hoseok’s voice get softer and quieter. Walking over, he looks at Hoseok’s face and truly sees for the first time how tired his best friend looks. Placing his hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, he gives a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry I had to send her. Keep me in the loop and I won’t have to ask… her.” Yoongi stays clear of saying your name out loud seeing how delicate of a state Hoseok was in, not wanting to cause any more pain than necessary as Hoseok nods in agreement.

“Tell you what, let’s go out after work and get a drink at Merlo’s?”

“Hyung, you were just chastising me for drinking.” Yoongi claps Hoseok’s back walking back over to his chair.

“For drinking alone, there is a difference. This time I’ll be there to keep an eye on you. Come on, have a drink with your hyung!” Hoseok can’t help when a laugh escapes him when Yoongi belts out his thick Daegu accent on purpose. In times like these, he really appreciated Yoongi having his back.

“This is definitely not the best bar in Seoul, hyung,” Hoseok takes in the posh décor that makes him roll his eyes and the over pretentious staff and bartenders with their snappy movements to guise themselves as standouts. When in reality, this was an overpriced bar and Hoseok just wanted a drink.

“Well, I thought maybe we’ll change it up a bit… Also Jiwoo might have sent someone to meet you.” Yoongi mumbles the last part, knowing Hoseok wouldn’t have come to a place like this otherwise. And he was right as Hoseok’s eyes widen.

“Noona? And you didn’t think to tell me? What the hell, hyung. You know I’m not ready!” He can almost feel his cool composure melting off him in layers, knowing his older sister’s matches were more often than not, wacky.

“It’s been weeks, Hoseok. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get out there. Maybe this will help.” Hoseok tries to listen to Yoongi, he really does. But he doesn’t want to. It’s too early. His wounds feel like they were inflicted just yesterday, too fresh, too clear. Too agonising. Nevertheless, he knows unless he does this, he won’t get Yoongi off his back. So, nodding, Hoseok agrees reluctantly.

“Also, she’s a recent share holder at our company and new to the city. She doesn’t know you or anything or has any expectations and inclinations of you, Hoseok. This is your chance to try and start fresh.”

“Okay… I’ll try just for you, hyung.” Yoongi pats Hoseok’s back, genuinely appreciative of his friend’s trust in him and that he was sincerely, making an effort. Or so it seemed.

“We also have a lot of pending business to take care of. The collaboration launch party of Kim Inc. and Jung-Min enterprise as well as our conference in Jeju is coming up all in a span of a few weeks and months respectively.” Hoseok was half engrossed in his drink and half listening to Yoongi when a slender figure had joined their private booth. The woman was nothing short of gorgeous as even Yoongi took in her S shaped figure and golden bronzed skin clad in a mildly suggestive knee length dress.

“I’m glad I crashed this conversation at the right time before you two got too carried away.” Her beaming smile, though sweet, was too much for Hoseok.

“Hyolyn, glad you could join us.” Yoongi sits up as Hyolyn slips right in with Hoseok as he comes to term with the fact that this is definitely the girl his sister and Yoongi have set him up with. She was jaw-dropping, but she wasn’t you.

“Hoseok, this is the lovely lady I was just telling you about.” Hoseok conjured up a half sincere smile as he took in her small features gleaming up at him politely.

“Nice to meet you.”

“No, nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’ve heard great things about you from Jiwoo and Yoongi here.” Hoseok sent Hyolyn a tight smile, not being in the business of enjoying hearing himself being extolled. He tried his best to be polite and forthcoming to the newcomer at their table. It wasn’t as if Hyolyn wasn’t nice on top of her already beautiful exterior. She genuinely paid interest in what he had to say and hung on to his every word, paying him entirely too much attention. Nothing he was used to with you.

Get a fucking hold of yourself, he cursed at himself. If even after a month you still clouded his mind this much, he wondered how long it would take him to stop comparing every woman to you.

“Alright then, I have some matters to take care of it seems,” Yoongi complained with his eyebrows furrowed, looking down at his phone after an hour of Hyolyn’s arrival. Hoseok almost let his jaw drop at how unconvincing the older man was at pretending that he had something urgent to attend to. Though, Yoongi probably was trying to spare Hoseok the embarrassment that undoubtedly would come along if he had abruptly left. Which Yoongi has done before. Hoseok could tell that Yoongi was serious about him moving on if he was willing to play a matchmaker with his sister.

“Oh okay, shame you have to leave so soon.” Hyolyn contorted her pretty face in a look of sympathy, looking up at Yoongi who was now standing with his suit jacket in his hand. He looked at Hoseok and Hyolyn, throwing a sly smirk at Hoseok’s glaring face.

“Yeah, shame. Anyway, you take care of him, alright?” With a solute, Yoongi was dashing out of the bar moving faster than Hoseok had ever seen him move in all the years he’d known him.

“Look, you don’t have to “take care” of me like that smug bastard suggested,” Hyolyn stifled a laugh, smiling politely at Hoseok leaning in to talk to her, “I’ll be fine if you would rather find better company. I’m afraid I’m not going to be too entertaining tonight.”

Hyolyn decreased the distance between them even more and brought her hand lightly on top of his, a show of understanding.

“Look, I will be honest, Jiwoo told me you had just gotten out of a relationship and were in pretty bad shape. I understand if you’re not in the right mindset to give someone else a chance but,” Hyolyn took a deep breath and let her kind eyes hold his own as she spoke with a gentle smile on her face, “We don’t have to do anything. I can be here as a friend if you want?”

He could see the glint in her eyes, instantly grasping what she was suggesting. However, Hoseok knew he couldn’t use someone as sweet as Hyolyn as his rebound.

“I appreciate that, Hyolyn, really. I think I may need a friend for now, more than anything.” At that she smiles knowingly, removing her hand atop his.

Time passes a little quicker as Hyolyn makes commendable effort to get to know Hoseok, carefully distracting him from downing his drinks too fast. In fact, Hoseok himself is surprised at the unfamiliar feeling of you being absent from floating in his mind, staining his every thought. That’s until by some cruel joke the universe must be playing on him, he spots a figure strutting inside the bar, a dress clinging to your sinful body and heels that used to drive him crazy. Who was he kidding, they still drove him crazy. It takes him a little longer to notice the man beside you, his hand grasping your own as he’s leading you to a booth in the VIP section he currently himself was in.

He must have been staring for a while since Hyolyn turns to follow his gaze. He’s thankful she can’t tell if he’s watching you or the man you’re with. Which happen to be none other than-

“Isn’t that Kim Namjoon of Kim Inc, the company you’re going in business with?”

Hoseok doesn’t add the fact that he also used to be his best friend, once upon a time. Instead he motions the waiter over without sparing a glance at him, continuing to watch you interact with Namjoon as you lean forward to talk with him, no doubt giving him an eyeful of your luscious breasts. Hoseok could almost feel the steam coming off from him like he was just about a second away from evaporating into the thin air.

“Seems so.” If he gives off any hints of the drastic change in his demeanour and the frequency by which the alcohol is disappearing down his throat almost doubling than before, Hyolyn doesn’t mention.

“I’ve heard he just hired a new PA with crazy high salary.” Hoseok’s attention immediately zooming back on to Hyolyn’s speculations.

“And where did you hear that?” Hyolyn smirks, rolling her eyes as she explains.

“Oh you know the amount of gossip that goes around when you’re a young and handsome man in such a position of power.” Hoseok has to almost force himself to pay attention to what she’s saying. He had known from his sources that you’d taken a position as a PA for Namjoon and had never understood for the life of him, your decision to do the same job you had done for him, and move to another company to do exactly that rather than ask for a promotion. He never entertained the possibility of you actually working for Namjoon for reasons other than not being able to work for the man who was invested in you more than you, him. Reasons like more money. And the thought alone made him want to march up to you to confront your need for a bigger salary than the unconditional love he thought was being reciprocated.

“Yeah? What’ve you heard about me?” Hyolyn turns back to Hoseok, clinking her drink with his own.

“Nothing that makes me want to not give you a chance.” She says with a smile. Just then, he sees you emerge from the booth you’d been in with Namjoon, adjusting your dress. As though you feel his intense gaze on your skin, you look up, making his heart almost stop. You don’t fare much better as you dash towards what he assumes is the restroom. Before he can talk himself out of it, he finds himself following you, vaguely deciphering a call of his name from Hyolyn.

He enters the restroom, not giving you a chance to say anything else, before he confronts you. He just had to know.

“He’s paying you well, huh?” Hoseok is almost seething and there you are, calm and collected as ever. Like his accusations didn’t matter to you. Just like nothing ever fucking matters to you.

“I am a PA to a CEO; Yes, he is.” You state as a matter of fact, reapplying your lipstick that he just notices was a little smudged. Hoseok could feel his heart beating louder and faster in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He never thought you’d be this indifferent to him. The look of panic he had seen on your face just before almost feeling like an illusion now. The woman in front of him now was nothing short of a distant, bitter reality he wanted to never face but was now forced to.

You didn’t want him. You never wanted him.

“Is money so fucking important to you? You could’ve asked me for it and I’d have given it to you!” because I was that in love with you. Though he doesn’t say that out loud he knows you hear it loud and clear. And once again, you don’t spare him a second breath, brushing your hands down your tantalizing dress, staring him straight in the eyes as you approach him.

“I am a PA not a CEO and an heir to a million-dollar empire. Yes, money is of importance to me.” Hoseok groans at your too technical answer, not giving anything away. He was sick and tired of you being evasive.

“Stop with this bullshit Y/N, you know what I’m asking.” He takes a deep breath, closing the distance between himself and where you stood holding on to the sink.

“Are you fucking him? Is he paying you enough to put out, huh?” Your eyes remain focused on his own, refusing to waver like he thought, hoped, they would. Hoped that you’d break out into sounds of horror and surprise, telling him that he was wrong and that you would never do anything like that. Hell, be mad at him, hit him and demand to know how he dare accuse you of being some money hungry whore.

But you don’t. Instead, you leave him with words that dry out his mouth and stop his heart.

“Maybe he is. Either way, who I’m fucking doesn’t concern you anymore, Hoseok.” You give him another chilling look before pushing past him, exiting the bathroom. Hoseok could feel everything slowing down around him. Your words still ringing in his ears. It was as if he was glued to where he stood. No amount of commands his brain sent to his muscles were able to move him. The bitter reality was taking its sweet time settling in his bones, rendering him useless to move until another woman enters the bathroom, gasping out for him to leave.

He sped back to his booth, hastily apologizing to Hyolyn, who looked just as confused as he had felt moments before you had walked out on him.

“Is everything Alright, Hoseok?”

“I just can’t do this right now Hyolyn, I’m sorry.” He sighed beckoning the waiter over to settle his and Hyolyn’s bill. She looked sweetly sympathetic, standing up with him to make sure he was alright. Hoseok wasn’t really sure if he was upset or angry. Maybe both. With the dizziness being from sheer rage or hurt, he wasn’t quite sure. What he was sure of, though, was that he wanted to get out of this bar before he suffocated.

“Can I do something to help?” Her pleading eyes made the pang of guilt that was bubbling away in his chest a tad bit bigger at the fact that he was leaving her to go numb his senses by fucking someone senseless.

He reached over to caress her cheek as his parting vow, “No you can’t, get home safe Hyolyn.”

All Hoseok could think about was your words, your body clinging to Namjoon’s, your scent when he confronted you in the bathroom. Even when the girl, whose name he had forgotten the minute she had said it, took him in her mouth like her life depended on it. It had been hours since he’d left the bar after the debacle with you at the bar where he’d also left Hyolyn and went to the sleaziest club he could find, where he wouldn’t be able to be recognized.

Only thing on his mind was the stagnant truth. No matter how many times he replayed your answers in his mind, picking them apart to see the silver lining to what you’d hinted at but was plainly clear if only he let himself believe it too. You didn’t care about him anymore, possibly never did.

“Fuck,” The girl licking away at the underside of his cock looked up at him smiling around him when he heavily rested his head on the wall he was leaning against. Thinking he’d been responding to her tongue she continued with much fervour, when really, he was cursing himself for not being able to accept the truth. You had ditched him at the first signs he had shown of wanting to deepen his relationship with him. Jumping ship as soon as he shared his heart with you, about his mother, his fears of you leaving him. And you had done exactly that it seems like. Now he knew the catalyst had been the six figure salary Namjoon had offered you. His mind was filled with rage and his heart was filled with betrayal. And even after you blatantly admitting you might be sleeping with Namjoon, he somehow thought of you and your mouth being the one swallowing around him instead. The only thing Hoseok wanted to do was get you out of his system. And of course, why wouldn’t he start with fucking you out of his system.

He’d hooked up with the first willing girl, telling his brain to shut the fuck up when his conscious accused him of trying to find you even in a one night stand he’ll never see again. She’d been all the more eager when he’d pushed her against the wall, making her feel the rigidity of his cock against her to coax her to her knees. He wanted to bang on the walls, pull on his hair, beat the living shit out of himself for being so fucking oblivious to your changing demeanour the months before it had all unravelled while simultaneously still wanting to rush back to you.

Alas, it was easier to hate you now. Knowing how money hungry you were, willing to shamelessly flaunt yourself as such too. But he knew mindlessly hooking up with random women was not about to provide him with the numbness he craved. He needed closure and he was going to fucking get it. Maybe, just maybe, what he was about to do would put his need for you at a halt. He hated you in this moment. He wanted it to blossom so much that it occupied all the space in his traitorous heart.

So what does he do? Go straight to your apartment of course.

“Hoseok? What are you do-” You weren’t given even the courtesy of finishing your sentence before he had his mouth over yours. Your hands had found purchase on his chest and it’d boiled his blood even further. Not sure if at the way his heart had skipped several beats or at you because it was so easy for you to make it do so.

He had wanted to be gentle at first, to share more of those deep sweet kisses that left him dizzy and stunned, but that dress and those heels…

Screw gentle.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you further inside, barely taking the time to lock the door before he pushed you against it and slanted his mouth over yours. He slid his hands under your ass and lifted you so that you were truly pinned between the wooden door and his pelvis, which he rocked against you as he kissed you. Hoseok looked around to make sure you were truly alone, and then he grabbed your hand and tugged you inside your bedroom. He spun you around so that your ass was pressed against him—pressed against his erection. He put one hand over your mouth and then undid the knot to the ribbon that held your pyjama pants snug to your hips.

“You’re only hungry for money and cock aren’t you?” He said in your ear, not expecting an answer. “Where you get more of any of those, you go running with your mouth wide open.”

And then he slid his fingers down your stomach, slipping under your silk panties. You moaned against his hand, hands tugging on his arm that was relentless between your legs.

“Shhh,” He said. “Sluts like you don’t get a say on what’s done to them.”

You whimper in response. Too responsive for your own good.

God, he loved your pussy. He’d never felt anything softer than the skin between your legs—and fuck you were wet. So wet that he really could pull his slacks down and take what he wanted, right here, right now. But no. You didn’t deserve that.

Not that he wouldn’t fantasize about it as he got you off.

He started in on your clit in earnest now, circling it hard and fast, loving the way you bucked against his hand. He knew it was more pressure and speed than was comfortable, but he also knew that you would like it that way, savour that tiny, tiny bite of pain with your pleasure with the way you were gushing more than you ever had before. You were filthy and he was finally realising that.

“I would’ve done this all day, Y/N,” He rasped in your ear. “I love reaching down the front of your pants, playing with your cunt, making you come. Do you like it?”

You nodded, your breathing jagged against his hand. You were getting close.

“Too fucking bad,” He said, and he almost felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, listening to himself say these words. But he was beyond caring, or more importantly, was beyond the point of denying the reality. You really never cared then and he really didn’t care now. He was drunk on the need to leave you begging and wondering what you’d left behind.

“Now you show that you’re a fucking human being and not a robot? Hm? Rutting against my hand like the gold digging whore you are. You want to come don’t you?”

You nodded again, eagerly, desperately.

“Of course you do. Always wanting more,” and his voice was hoarse now. “You’re nothing to me anymore, Y/N. And you know what? My fingers in your cunt while saying that makes me so fucking hard. Feel me. Feel how hard I am just thinking about it.” He grounded his cock into your ass, and you shuddered again.

He could feel you convulsing around his fingers, clenching and unclenching when he prodded at the spongey bundle deep within you, making you thrash around in his grasp. He stilled his hand, resorting to rubbing your walls.

“Does he fuck you like I did? Hm? Or does that even matter?” Hoseok plucks your clit with his thumb and pointer finger, “It doesn’t matter does it? You’ll run to the next man with a fat cock and an even fatter wallet. I had everything baby but it wasn’t enough for you.”

There was no entity that could stop Hoseok from saying all that was to come out of his mouth like he’d bottled it all up for the past month. He picks up a punishing rhythm, your pussy struggling to clench around his fingers as they left your cunt just as quickly as they had entered. Before Hoseok can stop, you’re tumbling over the edge, breathing hard behind Hoseok’s hand.

You quaked under his touch for a long minute, and finally came down, sagging against him.

He kept his hand in your panties for a minute or two longer, loving the way it looked, loving the way it felt, and then he reluctantly withdrew. He sucked on his fingers as you turned to face him, eyes bright and cheeks clearly flushed even in the dark of the bedroom, looking nothing like the put together statue you had looked earlier. You looked positively ruined and Hoseok fucking loved it. For once feeling like he had a better idea of what was to come than you. Because the ball was in his court.

He walked backwards, sitting on your bed like he had done many times before. Only this time, instead of waiting for you to climb on to him, letting you take the reins, he demanded complete obedience and strangely, you obliged.

“Come here,” He says. “And kneel.”

You did, your breath audible now, kneeling in front of him and crossing your ankles behind you, taunting him with those eyes.

“Take them off,” He said, jerking his chin down to indicate his belted slacks. You did, impatiently tugging them off his hips, and he groaned as his erection was finally, finally let free. You sat there after completing the task as if he was giving you orders like he had before at the office. Hoseok let himself really stare you down, holding your gaze until your, dare he say, embarrassed one strayed far from his face to his cock. “Suck me like the cock hungry slut you are, Y/N.”

You continued to stare at his heavy cock against his stomach, listening to him demean you. Nothing like you’d ever imagined Hoseok to be like. “You don’t get to just take Y/N. Time to give a little baby.”

Hearing the endearment, albeit said in a more sinister context, provides enough of an incentive for you to start laving his cock with attention like never before. You pressed soft, red lips to the silky skin of his cock. “Fuck, just like that.” He breathed down at you. “Suck it good baby.”

He found your lips with his thumb, running it along your lower one and pulling it down to open you up more. “Hold still,” He told you, and then he guided his cock into your waiting mouth.

It had only been a month, and yet he’d forgotten that your mouth was like a slice of heaven, warm and wet and with that flicking, fluttering tongue that danced along the underside of his dick. He laced his hands through your hair—fucking up whatever adorable hairstyle you’d had it in—and then slowly withdrew, savouring every single second as your lips and tongue kissed against his skin. And then he slid in again, less gently this time, his eyes darting from your lips to your crossed ankles to the way your hand circled your clit as he slowly fucked your mouth. You were being so filthy, even when he had been degrading you just before, calling you all sorts of name you definitely should be refuting instead of finding them arousing enough to get on your knees for him.

You kept your eyes pinned to his, peering up at him through those long dark eyelashes, and he thought about all the times they’d distracted the hell out of him at the office and all the times that he’d fucked your brains out before, always whispering his affections for you and how crazy he was for you, at the end. And now, he just wanted to paddle your sweet ass for making him so goddamned crazy about you.

He tightened his grip in your hair. He wanted to go hard, he wanted to make your eyes water, he wanted to thrust until he reached the point where he could barely hold back from shooting down your throat.

“Ready?” He whispered to you, still wanting to tread on the side of consent and caution.

And then you groaned a frustrated groan, as if annoyed that he was asking again.

“Be patient,” he said and thrust hard into your mouth. Hoseok heard you choke as he hit the back of your throat, but he only gave you a minute before he pushed in again, and again. He knew he was longer and wider than most men, he knew he was harder to take, but Hoseok wasn’t going to cut you any slack unless you asked for it, not after that stunt. Because he was so absolutely sure that everything you did was to make him hurt. And hurt he was. Hurt and angry and horny and fucking in love with you. But you were not.

“You like being bad? You like making me punish you by going out with himof all people??”

You managed to nod, your watery eyes blinking up at him to make him even angrier. He knew you were most likely saying it to get on his nerves further. Make him leave, screaming, disgruntled and heartbroken. Jokes on you; his heart was already broke.

He swore. “You’ve made me crazy, y/n.” He sounds like on the bring on an angry yet sorrowful outburst.

But you smirk around his cock, and fuck, he hated and loved you at the same time. He hated love. He drove into your mouth several more times, right up until he could feel that familiar clench in his belly and then Hoseok pulled out, his breathing ragged from the effort it took not to come all over your gorgeous face. Instead, he used his thumb to wipe at your eyes, which were now smudged with makeup and tears. The ever-so-slightly smeared lipstick he left the way it was.

You sat there, breathing heavy, looking up at Hoseok like a deer caught in the headlights. Waiting and waiting until Hoseok is finally threading his hands in your hair again to roughly stand you up, a wince leaving your swollen, lipstick smeared lips. The venom laced in the way his mouth was sneering but it was his eyes that betrayed him. They were sad and you felt the pang of hurt you had so desperately tried to bury. And had been succeeding until he’d showed up at your door.

“You want to hurt me do you? Want to break my heart? Well,” he’s stepping forward, face so close to yours you could smell the whiskey on him, “I’m going to break you first. I’m going to fuck you until you’re crying, sobbing, begging me to stop. And when you’re as shattered as I am; you’ll run back to me to fix you.” Just like I have. But he doesn’t say that.

And in a matter of seconds, he’s tugging you out of your room with a punishing grip on your hair and throwing you on your couch, no gentleness, no warning as he pushes you face first down on the couch. He had no reservations anymore. Nothing. Because all that was repeated in his mind was that hewas nothing to you.

“H-Hoseok. P-Please.” Your muffled moan has his heart tightening and wounded at the same time. Why did you call his name like he was the only one for you when he knew you were already fucking another man? He wastes no time in making your ass bare in front of him, perched up on the arm rest of the sofa as you race yourself by clutching the cushion of your couch. But he can’t help and take a look before he does anything. Your pink, swollen folds. The labia of your pussy bloomed like a rose, dripping and ready for him to sink in to. And that’s exactly what he does.

“Fuck! H-Hoseok. Oh god.” You’re already crying out like you’d been waiting for him to push his cock inside you for a century. Why was he doing this? Why was he digging this hole deeper than it already was and he couldn’t get out of it no matter how much he tried? Yet, with every thrust of his hardened girth spearing your cunt over and over and over has him digging his own grave. He wanted to die inside you. He was so madly, dangerously in love with you and you knew it. Because when you ask him to go faster in your high pitched mewl – he does. He fucks you like his life depends on it. Over and over and the symphony of your dripping arousal coating his length is something he wants to revel in. Knowing that it could very well be the last time he got to feel you at all.

You were crying now. Sobbing with every thrust like he’d been the one breaking open your insides instead the damage you’d done to him. Why were you so cruel? Why did you want to hurt so bad? And why did you want to hurt himso bad? Hoseok’s lost and torn between the physical pleasure and the emotional pain. Trying desperately to fuck it away.

“Hoseokie,” you cry out when start pushing back against his thrusting hips, “ f-fuck me harder. Tear me apart. You hate me right?” your puffy, teary face is looking right back at him and he’s losing his mind. “then show me.” He’s angry at the use of your nickname for him when you two were together.

His heart is pounding and his loins are firing up when you’re looking at him with your bedroom eyes with a hint of sadness? No you weren’t capable of that. You only liked to hurt others. Never yourself. Hoseok was fooling himself if he thought that this was for his revenge. You knew him and you were using him to your best advantage. And that’s the only thing that makes his grab your hips, pulling all the way out until the tip of his cockhead remains inside and then – he slams right back in. You’re almost howling and Hoseok is gripping your hair again, the silky tresses reminding him of memories he wanted to burn away before he pulls back your head harshly, bowing your back as his hips snap in to yours.

“I’ll tear you apart. Because that’s what you want right? You don’t want love. You want to hurt. And I’m going to make it hurt.” He’s sneering as he snaps hips in to you with each word while your cries accompany the already lewd sounds of skin on skin.

“I’m going to cum inside you. And you’re going to keep it in you until Namjoon wants to fuck. Do you understand me, y/n?” He swats your bottom harshly, making you yelp when you don’t respond at first.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes what?” He slaps your ass again, the skin going crimson read and heating up as his fluid hips smack brutally against it again and again.

“Yes, sir. Hoseok!” He’s started circling your anus that was so well lubricated because of the creamy mess your pussy and his pre-leaking length had made. Hoseok was close and he needed to cum in you. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking with the alcohol still clouding his brain but he’s circling the tight ring until he can work a finger in.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Hoseok, i-it hurts.” Good. Good. I want you to fucking hurt. Even if it wasn’t the way he wanted to but this will have to suffice. But of course, after a few minutes of him slowly fucking a finger in to your ass – you were moaning already. Dripping and leaking all over his length more than ever and he knew you liked this. But you’ll never admit it. You never admitted anything. You lived your life in denial and somehow he was still so madly, insanely in love with you.

“That’s it baby,” the endearment slips him before he can stop it, knowing this was new to you as he fingers your ass while simultaneously pounding away at your cunt. And he’s close. So close to everything but you.

“I’m cumming h-hoseok I’m-” you don’t get to finish your sentence as you’re squirting on his thrusting cock with a loud shout like he’d just stabbed you a thousand times. But of course. It was the other way around. Maybe not literally but the pain was so much that it might as well be.

“That’s it… fuck,” he’s rubbing the globes of your ass, soothing the inflamed skin as he picks up pace, needing to finish while your walls were still clenching on his cock like a vice and soon enough, he’s buried himself in to you to the hilt and hot, white spurts of cum are pushed inside your battered, swollen and red cunt.

I love you. I love you.

His brain is chanting the phrase over and over while his mouth is only growling and grunting. It’s silent except for the loud breathing of the both of you. Catching your breath while you lay face down on the couch, facing towards the seat of the couch while Hoseok stood behind you.

“I hope happiness never finds you.” His whisper is soft. Sad and pathetic and vituperative. He can only hear you sniffle slightly because it’s so silent in the apartment.

You don’t say anything when he pulls out. You don’t say anything when he calls out your name, once. You don’t say anything when he zips himself up and walks out of the door, watching you not watch him as you lay facing away from the door. Away from him. And that’s it.

a/n: yeah. no part 2 because... this was written on a whim and im not too good with angst usually so hdbucibniuwrn let me know what you think? As always, thank you for reading :)

#bts smut #bts #jhope #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #this is some heavy stuff i only read parts i was told to fix and i wanted to crawl under my bed and cry for my baby hoseok #he doesn't deserve this !!!!

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takerfoxx · 5 years

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She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Season 3 FINALE, First Impressions.

=slowly sits down with my head in my hands=

=heavy sigh=

All right.

Let’s do this.

When we last left Adora, she had been instructed to “go back to the beginning” without really knowing what that means. But first she took a detour (with Madam Razz’s blessing) to go get Glimmer and Bow first. And when she arrived.

Oh. Oh no...

At first I thought reality had molded itself exclusively into what Catra wants. But now we see that it was doing it everything, creating a superficially perfect world. And in Glimmer’s perfect world, she has a wonderful relationship with her mother, Bow is still around but working as an apprentice historian (which, uh, raises...questions), and...

...um...

...and her father is still alive.

We finally meet King Micah, and he is every bit the loving and supportive father and husband he’s been made out to be. I was already steeling myself to be emotionally ravaged by this episode, but that got me. And it goes back to what I’ve said a hundred times before: execution is everything. I’ve seen this trope so many times, where a main character wakes in an alternate reality that’s happier than the one they’ve known, usually complete with a happy relationship with an absent parent. And normally it doesn’t do anything for me, but because this show had worked so hard to make me care about these characters, seeing King Micah there with his wife and daughter...it got to me. And it’s interesting to note that the “perfect” reality is constantly remodeling itself. When Adora was in the Fright Zone, the invasion was well underway with her having led the attack on Thaymor that we saw in the pilot and they were all gearing up to go after Mermista. But since the Fright Zone had been consumed by the collapse, the invasion had never even happened, and those in Brightmoon didn’t even know what the Horde was.

Unfortunately the collapse is still underway, and it comes to Brightmoon. Fortunately Glimmer and Bow come to believe Adora and they make their way to go see Entrapta for advice, but not before Glimmer’s home is destroyed, and not before Angella remembers who she is and has to say goodbye to Micah for the second time. What makes it worse is the heavy implication that this Micah isn’t some illusion conjured up to make her and Glimmer happy, but might be the actual Micah, returned from the dead. He seems to actually remember everything for himself and realize what’s going on...mere seconds before he’s consumed.

Fuck.

Anyway, reality starts really breaking down then, and the BFS start getting shuffled around from place to place at lightning speed, all the while watching people they care about disappear. Fortunately, Entrapta lasts long enough to let them know that not only is reality collapsing around them, but it’s following Adora specifically since it was her sword that opened the portal. That’s why different places don’t seem to fall apart until she goes there. Entrapta also let’s them know how to bring things back to normal: they need to find Adora’s sword. Unfortunately, doing to will force whoever removes the sword from the portal to stay behind. When I heard that, I knew.

And well, they set off to do just that, but by then things have already gone too far. Reality is now truly fucked, cycling them through space and time. We see the old Etheria before it was removed from the universe. We finally meet Mara, hundreds of years in the past.

And we watch Bow and Glimmer disappear as well.

Yeah, I knew they were coming back, but by then I was so wrapped up in what was going on that it utterly destroyed me.

But Adora isn’t allowed time to grieve, because the long-awaited confrontation has finally come. Catra has found her, and she is so obsessed in denying Adora any sort of victory that she’ll gladly let time and space collapse in on itself and kill them all if it means that Adora loses.

Their battle through various various places we’ve visited throughout the show is in many ways a follow-up to The Promise, which was probably my favorite episode in the first season. They used to be so close, but now things have gone too far, and their relationship is all but unsalvageable.

It’s then that Adora finally realizes that she can’t save her former best friend. Catra’s just too far gone. And as much as I love Catra and really do want her to find some measure of peace, Adora snapping back that no, she’s not the one to blame for how Catra turned out and punching her with an emphatic, “You made your choice! Now live with it!” was incredibly satisfying. Because she’s right. No, what happened to Catra wasn’t her fault, but ultimately she has to start taking responsibility for her own actions and stop blaming everyone else.

Well, Shadow Weaver could still stand to shoulder a good chunk of that blame...

And then we get to that scene.

Well, you’re not wrong. And in the wise words of one of my childhood heroes...

I mean, I called it, didn’t I? I knew that the big tragic event was coming, and while I only figured out that it would be Angella, I still figured it out. But even though I saw it coming, even though I had time to brace myself, it still...

...

Fuck it.

Look, I have a very...complicated relationship with my parents. My dad is pretty mentally ill. At the very least he’s bipolar, and probably has several other things wrong with him too, causing him to be subject to sudden and extreme mood swings and paranoid thoughts. On top of it, he badly hurt his back when I was a kid which has left him in constant pain to this day, and what little details I’ve heard of his own childhood has painted him as being a damaged abuse survivor (sounds like someone else I know). As for my mom, well, she’s kind of like me, only a little less so. She’s a bit on the spectrum herself, and I’m pretty sure that even if she’s not outright aromantic, then she’s pretty damned close, and she has her own shit from her own past to work through. As such, he went into marriage looking for love, companionship, and support, while she was just getting married because she felt it was the thing to do, and she also wanted kids.

So while I’m glad that my brother, my sister, and I were brought into the world as a result, it’s clear that they never should have gotten together. Their relationship was constantly toxic and often mutually abusive, moreso on my dad’s end. And when you’re an autistic kid craving a stable and predictable environment growing up in a house that was anything but, when an offhand comment is perfectly fine one day but grounds for a full-on blow up the next, well, it’s...not exactly ideal. I was never physically or sexually abused or something like that, but one day he could be the goofiest, friendliest person in the world and the next one tiny joke will set him off. I mean, it wasn’t all bad. Hell, some of it was pretty great. He really did try to be a good father, and we shared a lot of the same interests, but he was a broken man in so many ways, battling demons that were just stronger than he was.

Anyway, they finally divorced when I was eighteen, and while that was pretty volatile, that was when I finally started to break out of my shell and develop into being my own person. Since then I’ve developed much healthier relationships with both of them. My mom and I have always gotten along great despite us sharing very few interests and having polar opposite political beliefs, and I still stop by to visit every other week to go to the movies or whatever. As for my dad, well, time, distance, and reflection have helped me to understand him better. I always knew that he truly does love us and was trying his best to be a good father, but he was sick and in constant conflict with his mind, with his body, and with his marriage. Nothing ever seemed to work out for him, and it got to him. But I’ll never forget this one story my mom told me about how soon after he had broken his back and lost his job as a result he would force himself to walk to job interviews despite being in so much pain that he could barely cross the parking lot, just because he felt that he had to provide for his family. I’ll always respect that about him, and while it doesn’t excuse the way he would often treat us when his demons took control, I understand him much better, and I pity him more than I resent him.

So, all of that big, long personal tangent to say this: I kind of am a sucker for stories about parental figures who are deeply flawed but do genuinely love their children and just work so hard to do right by them even if they don’t really understand how.

I bawled at the end of Logan despite not really being a big Wolverine fan. Yondu’s funeral in Guardians of the Galaxy 2 is probably the only time a Marvel movie made me tear up. Brave might be considered one of the lesser Pixar movies, it will always be one of my favorites.

Angella had been devastated by the loss of Micah, and that made her terrified of losing anyone else. It’s what caused the rift between her and her daughter. It’s what made her too scared to act. But despite labeling herself as a coward, she ultimately performed the bravest act, willingly laying down her life in order to save Etheria while trusting her daughter’s safety to Adora.

Oh, Angella, you were the bravest one of us. I hope that wherever you are now, you found Micah there waiting for you.

The portal is closed, and reality is restored. But there is plenty of damage to go around. That glare that Adora shoots Catra tell volumes about how their relationship is now. And just that sad look on Hordak’s face as he touches the stone (which bears the run for Loved in First Ones’ Language!) in the armor Entrapta made for him also said so much. You know, I never considered the idea that an evil overlord might have some kind of redemption story. Those are usually reserved for rivals like Catra or good-hearted minions like Entrapta. But if they go that route...I’m not at all opposed. At the very least he has a very compelling character arc, and I really do hope he and Entrapta reunite.

Also, while I am okay with Shadow Weaver working for the good guys now, I hope she’s not let off the hook for all the pain she’s caused. Catra’s wrong about a lot of things, but she is right about how it’s messed up that Shadow Weaver just gets to be one of the good guys after all she’s done. Still, I trust this show to handle it right.

But poor, poor Glimmer. She’s the queen now! She’s the head of the Rebellion! She finally got what she wanted, but in the worst possible way.

And as for that stinger...shit. Reality might have been saved, but Hordak succeeded in getting his message out. And now Horde Prime is coming, and he’s bringing the Horde, the real Horde with him

Well, I guess that wraps that up. I’m all caught up with the show and it’s about halfway through its planned run. Thank you so much to everyone to pushed me into watching this show, I thoroughly loved it. Now we wait together.

#she-ra #spop #adora #catra #angella #king micah #glimmer #hordak #entrapta #abuse tw #reaction

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