#how much has been taken from them by a stupid fucking cult

[i-am-the-balancing-point]

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[oops-prow-did-it-again]

New Phyrexia disturbed me - and not how it should have

This is going to be a VERY opinion-heavy post. Before I say anything, I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not condemning the entirety of the New Phyrexia arc, nor am I saying that the people who wrote these stories meant for them to be taken this way. This is just a post getting into why the New Phyrexia arc rubbed me the wrong way again and again, and why it's... kind of ruined my love for Magic, if I'm completely honest.

Also, yes, I understand that New Phyrexia was meant to horrify and unsettle people - but I feel like it unsettled me in ways that they kind of weren't going for. I expect horror to unsettle me and show me some fucked up shit, for lack of a better terminology - but I also was expecting, in the fantasy/scifi horror shit, I'd get some stuff that didn't feel like it hit so close to home.

More under the cut.

First of all, it has always felt as if Magic can never quite decide if Phyrexians are people or monsters. This is worsened in New Phyrexia, where time and time again, we are given reason to think that New Phyrexians are people that are simply heavily indoctrinated from birth. Yes, the glistening oil works in strange ways, and they have somewhat of shared knowledge amongst their entire network, but by and large, you see time and time again, that Phyrexians have individuality. This seems intentional - you are shown from the start that Elesh Norn is an egomaniac, a fool, and that her plans of grandeur are insane. But her insanity shapes this world.

In that way, everyone in this world are... mostly actually victims of her insanity. Ixhel and Urabrask on New Capenna stand out as examples of times where Phyrexians show that they are not the heartless monsters they are made out to be. In Urabrask's first cards, he claims that he wishes the Mirrans to be left alone.

Yet, in ONE, we see time and time again that red Phyrexians and Mirrans are fighting still, Urabrask doesn't seem to be paying that much attention to the Phyrexians, and... frankly, I don't know what the Halo subplot was supposed to be about (forgive me, if this was addressed in passing, I only skimmed the latter half of MOM to see what big things happened, because i was so upset with it at that point I didn't really WANT to read it anymore). Yes, I have read the creators saying time and time again that just because Urabrask doesn't say outright he wants the multiverse compleated, it doesn't mean it's not what he wants, deep down. However... this still harks back onto one idea.

Sapient creatures being born evil.

This is a trope that I LOATHE in fantasy/scifi to my core. I understand that Phyrexians, for all intents and purposes, are created in a monstrous fashion. They are not created in a similar way to people. However, in the end, they still ACT LIKE PEOPLE. They have individuality, free will (yes, even if it is limited by the strict theocratic control of Norn, they still have it - how did Ixhel create, otherwise? How did Sheoldred rebel? Why did Nahiri snap at Nissa to show the skyclaves? Why did Tamiyo freeze upon seeing children?), and whether you like it or not, this makes them people. They are extremely different people, and yes, their existence does present conflict - but they. are. still. people.

I understand how it may feel offensive to real people to call the (rightful) fear and concern towards Phyrexians to be racism, as I feel like that waters down the term. However... again, knowing that Phyrexians are largely a cult that has been severely indoctrinated by Elesh Norn... it becomes difficult not to feel bad for them, and as if they have all been written off simply because they have a terrible leader. It comes across, to me, as another case of fantasy racism; similar to orcs being portrayed as idiot, warmongering beasts in some settings, or goblins being portrayed as stupid people little better respected than animals (and full of antisemitic stereotypes), just with less baggage attached.

It comes across as them having wanted to create a sapient race of people that was okay to bash and throw under the bus, so to speak. And yes, they gave plenty of reasons for why these people needed to go... but ultimately, it still feels like people went out of their way to create a civilization of people and show us justification for exterminating them.

I'm not trying to water down the term racism, but like... maybe I don't know the right words, but you understand why that might be uncomfortable, right?

Furthermore, at the start, I thought the transformative nature of Phyrexians was cool. Hot, even, as plenty others here on Tumblr think. Yes, I always sort of knew it was meant to be horrifying, too... but I also thought that the creators also were making them semi-alluring on purpose. (Look at Elesh Norn in promotional art. Look at her in the ONE trailer!! Look at the email they sent out for Arena on Valentine's Day, for god's sake!) But as time goes on... I start to get this uncomfortable feeling that this borderline sensual, sexual tension the Phyrexians produce is supposed to be PART of the horror.

And that's where things start getting uncomfortable for me. I am a transgender man. I don't know if I like sexualized, different people that transform themselves... being treated as horrible monsters that can't be coexisted with. I know plenty of trans people felt otherwise about Phyrexians; I understand this likely wasn't even the intention. BUT it still felt that way to me, for someone living in a country where trans people are getting more and more hunted on the daily.

Suddenly, it wasn't so fun anymore, to look at Elesh Norn and see her as heehoo sexy dommy mommy everyone joked at her being. It felt, to me at least, like she was a caricature of what I was. Of what people like me are. Monstrous. Out to destroy the world. Egomaniacs who want to force others down our same "lifestyle."

This is not helped by how Strixhaven, despite being an obvious play on Hogwarts & Harry Potter, came back into importance in MOM. They made a new Planeswalker from that plane, even! I loathe Strixhaven, and I was not at all pleased to learn that they have made it more important. The stories from the original Strixhaven set make me uncomfortable, too; Lukka arrives at a tavern and is asking for food, as he is not doing so well, and people comment on how he dresses strange, and when he (not rudely!) tells them they wouldn't know where he's from even if he told them, they react by SHOOTING FIREBALLS AT HIM.

These people saw a stranger. And decided the appropriate reaction was to shoot fireballs. (More on Lukka later, as I'm not done with him yet) but you understand how that might have also been deeply uncomfortable, right? Like yes, it did seem very intentional, to show how unkind the general populace of Arcavios can be... but there never seemed to be any point to that?? So it just came across as people hating a guy for dressing unconventionally for ""flavor"" to the very-obviously-based-on-TERF-school set. Which. WHY?

I also was not blind to how most of the compleated Planeswalkers were the nonhuman ones. Barring Lukka and Jace, every compleated Planeswalker was nonhuman, which I think... was done purposefully, because nonhumans are viewed as inherently more "monstrous" to our primal little monkey brains. (I don't think it was coincidence; there are PLENTY of human planeswalkers, to the point the majority could have easily not been human.) But this makes me uncomfortable too, because it feels like it, again, not only implies that Phyrexians are not people and are monsters (even though they had been given traits again and again that very firmly confirmed them as people), but that these nonhuman planeswalkers are inherently more monstrous, too.

Ajani - leonin. Tamiyo - moonfolk. Tibalt - (half) devil. Nissa - elf. Vraska - gorgon. Nahiri - kor.

And of the human Planeswalkers compleated, they chose Lukka and Jace. Jace, who has had a steep history of being viewed as less than human and little more than a tool (even sometimes by himself, as much as he hates it), and Lukka, who was also viewed as less than human by the society he came from, and was essentially labeled a sick dog to be shot on sight by his home city. (But more on him and why I particularly hate what was done with him later.)

And like... I'm not saying that corruption arcs or that transformation horror can't be done in a tasteful way!! It just started to feel like, as time went on, that this stuff was... malicious. I already was uncomfortable with how Phyrexians were seemingly being set up to be offed or taken out the picture completely (for there being no feasible way for them to coexist in the multiverse), so maybe I was looking for flaws, even where most wouldn't see them. But, I mean.. it just... Idk man. That part, too, gets under my skin.

And Lukka. LUKKA. I loathe what has been done to his character like none other. It is frequent fan interpretation that Lukka is stupid, Lukka deserves everything that has happened to him, and that it's a good thing he is gone. However, having read everything he has ever appeared in, I am so infuriated that even the creators THEMSELVES seemed to have bought into this idea.

For those that don't know, Lukka first appeared in Ikoria: Lair of Behemoths - Sundered Bond, a digital novella. He was born and raised in Drannith, a heavily militarized city, one of three so-called "sanctuaries" that have actually managed to stay around on Ikoria. Ikoria is a world of kaiju-esque mutated, crazy monster animals, and he was raised in propaganda by Drannith's military, the Coppercoats. He is 40+ years old when we meet him; he has served the Coppercoats for half of that, and then another 2 years or so as Captain of a Specials force team. You see, through him, that he's actually a very caring leader and a rather simple guy: he is betrothed to Jirina Kudro, the daughter of General Kudro, leader of the Coppercoats, and his concerns seem to only be getting his team back home in one piece and getting quality time with his wife. He's not perfect, he's rough around the edges, would probably be an asshole to hang out with in real life, but it FITS for the world he comes from.

And then, he accidentally bonds with a winged cat that slaughters 3/4 of his team in front of him, within minutes of each other. General Kudro has kept the bonding magic Lukka experienced a secret from Drannith populace. He believes it makes Lukka "sick." (Need I explain why a leader referring to a group of people as inherently 'sick' is bad??) Even Jirina, for as much as she apparently loves her father, so emphatically believes her father will kill Lukka for this that she helps him escape! the city!!!

To recap, Lukka has his entire world upended from beneath his feet in the course of like, a day. He becomes the public enemy of the city he has defended with his life for years. In his eyes, it is us (the humans of Ikoria) versus them (the monsters of the plane). This is how he has been raised and trained; he did not choose the bonding and is (rightfully!) upset and horrified at it (ONE was incorrect when it said he "always knew he was different;" lukka made no such acknowledgments in Sundered Bond, that was an invention of ONE). He later then meets Vivien, who tells him how her home plane was DESTROYED (um??? Vivien? Why would you tell a man whose life is going to shit about that??) which makes Lukka vow to himself that he will not lose his home.

Later in the story, Lukka learns of a presence in a particular crystal called the Ozolith, and he goes to it. There, for reasons that would take too long to explain, a three-way battle ensues, and an unknown Planeswalker reaches out to Lukka through the Ozolith. The Planeswalker shows Lukka one of the bonders he has met along the way getting killed by a skysail's bolt meant to kill monsters and it is only then that Lukka accepts the power of the Ozolith.

Anyway, saying all this to say... Lukka is a villain, yes. But contrary to popular belief, he is NOT stupid. He is just as smart as anyone would be in the situation he was put into, coming from the world he comes from. He wanted, again and again and again, nothing more than to just go home. He even tried to spin his bonding into a way that Drannith could defend itself, by telling Kudro they should use monsters instead of peoples' lives (but Kudro wasn't hearing it; and the kicker? Drannith would go on to use bonders & monsters to protect the city anyway, after Lukka had been run off the world).

Lukka had a SHIT deck of cards handed to him in Ikoria, and he - REASONABLY - lashed out. It was just that when he lashed out, he had the power of a Planeswalker manipulating him, whispering in his ear, and the power to actually make people listen. He believed his choices were come home and die like a good soldier, or force them to let him come home. Maybe other people fault him for that, but I don't fault him for choosing to live, even if doing so caused much violence and bloodshed.

But yes, he was still a villain, and in Strixhaven, he was relegated to villain again, when people once again presume him to be an Oriq - which he doesn't even know what that is - and finally, he simply decides that if everyone keeps calling him one, he might as well be one. This comes after nearly starving to death and having his new bond, Mila, save his life. Had someone from Strixhaven maybe, I don't know, taken pity on this very clearly struggling guy.... I don't know! I feel like his role in Strixhaven really never would have happened. THE GUY LITERALLY JUST WANTED FOOD AND WATER. I cannot emphasize that enough

Anyway, saying this all to say, Lukka's arc felt like it was headed toward a redemption of some kind. He had been given a raw deal, reacted very humanly but very poorly, and now, the only way he had to go was up.

Instead, we got Vivien shooting him dead. Calling him "lukka-thing." We got Vivien saying nothing as she faces down the man she called a friend and seemingly felt bad for by the end of Sundered Bond and killing him.

As someone from a country that is VERY obviously careening toward more VERY conservative bullshit... THAT PLOT DID NOT SIT WELL WITH ME. It felt VERY MUCH like I was being told "if you are born into shit circumstances or bad things are done to you, and you don't sit there and take it, you will be punished for not simply taking it. And that punishment may very well be death."

I especially did not care for how Jirina seemed to be veering into her father's mindset in the story in MOM. And yes, she was called out for this, but the story also seemed to be trying to lean into this "survival, no matter the cost" vibe, which seemed like it was subtly justifying what she did, since it DID technically work in the end. Vivien's emo ass "but survival is the only law out here now" or w/e it was she said to herself as she killed Lukka definitely didn't help that feeling, either.

It upset me very much to see a character born into a shitty society, given raw deal after raw deal, and then be told that he deserved to die instead of get help. Or worse, that dying WAS getting help. It was "putting him out of his misery." He was "irreversibly changed," and "didn't know better anymore," he "couldn't be helped." That, combined with how compleation started to feel like a very negative allegory for transgender people after a point to me (see near the beginning of this), made Lukka's death feel like rapidfire punch after rapidfire punch to the gut.

AND NOT IN THE WAY THAT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN! I would have loved to see Vivien upset that she can't get to apologize. I would have loved to see Vivien agonizing over the decision to kill him. I would have loved her maybe showing some more REMORSE over having to do it, even if she did feel it was the only way forward. We have seen that New Phyrexians, especially compleated Planeswalkers, are still themselves, even while compleated, so the fact Lukka had nothing to say to her either felt hollow, too. He thought she was his friend and she turned on him; why didn't he have anything to say about that?

Urabrask being pulled apart at the limbs, then, felt like the final message to me: New Phyrexians are not people, they are monsters, end of discussion. They are not making it out of this. Stop asking/talking about it.

Suffice to say, by the time I got to the story of Elspeth becoming an archangel, everything felt hollow and gross for me. I've seen the promo art of Aftermath showing Nahiri and Nissa at least recovered; I get the feeling most of them, bar Tamiyo, Tibalt, and Lukka, probably have recovered or will recover.

But, frankly, I don't think I'm very invested anymore. New Phyrexia felt like it crossed a lot of lines, and not in the way that I would have appreciated horror to do so. It hit on a lot of sensitive subjects that made it rather difficult to enjoy as mere entertainment. Maybe I am just oversensitive, due to the day and age I am living in, due to the fact I am deeply unhappy with the fact I am forced to live closeted irl and feel hypervigilant of all slights, but it felt very gross to me.

Lukka's death in particular just... sealed the deal for me. I know he wasn't a big deal. Maybe he was always intended to just be a villain that gets killed off. But it's not even necessarily about him, in particular, it was about what his death represented. It was about how he was a product of propaganda and hatred, and how he was never given a chance to be better. it's about how I was told that death was the only way forward for him.

Maybe when I was 12 I would have liked that, but I'm over my obsession with the 'death is the only salvation.' SO MUCH MEDIA uses this trope, and frankly, I'm fucking sick of it.

I want to see people, even some of the most depraved fucking people you can imagine, getting better. I want to see that people can change and recognize the error in their ways. I'm tired of being told to look and see "us vs. them."

I'm not saying that you can't have conflict. But I am saying that if you're going to have conflict of this scale, I would prefer it to be solved in ways that don't essentially boil down to "kill/put away the Them."

Because that fucking blows.

If you've made it this far, I am grateful, but again, please keep in mind that this is the ramblings of a deeply mentally unwell ADHD-addled 22 year old (who is not on and cannot get Adderall right now). Emotional dysregulation IS a big problem I deal with, and the world I live in right now fucking sucks. If you're reading this going "oh my godd, let people enjoy things, you crybaby" then please just... move on? Because I'm not trying to tell people not to enjoy it, quite the contrary I WISH these things didn't bother me so much because I JUST got into Magic, and I would love to keep enjoying it! And Im happy for you if you have tolerance/could enjoy it through these things!

I'm just... sad. I'm very, very disappointed in this story. It was pretty, it was flashy, people clearly put in effort, but it felt like a low blow, all things considered, and worse, it touches literally all aspects of canon and cannot be safely disregarded. Much like War of the Spark, it affects almost everything, and will for a while yet.

[pollenallergie]

Tom Grant was definitely one of those pokémon-obsessed kids in primary school. He used to bring his case of cards to school in his backpack so that he could show them off to his mates and to whatever bird he was trying to impress that week. The girls were seldom impressed by his collection, but his mates always were. Even back then, pokémon cards were pretty costly (especially when you’re eight and have no real source of income), so Tom used to do housework and yard work for the elderly people in his neighbourhood: mowing the grass in their gardens, watering and tending to any plants that they might’ve had, dusting the hard-to-reach places in their homes, greasing up any squeaky door hinges, hanging up picture frames for them, etc. He made it fun for himself by thinking of it like a game: mow Mr. Redding’s garden for 100XP, carry in Mrs. Harold’s groceries for her for 50XP, then use your XP to level up your arsenal (buy more pokémon cards).

He had some of the best pokémon, so you know he was almost always the winner of playground card battles. That is until one of the posh kids came along with all the amazing cards their daddies’ money had bought them and stupid smug grins to match… Tom usually did his best to stay away from those pricks. He preferred battling his mates anyway; it was more fun that way as there was better sportsmanship and comradely involved when you battled against your mates.

As an adult, older!Tom Grant still has his whole collection of pokémon cards, and, of course, most of them are in pristine condition. Tom’s always been very good about taking care of the things he finds important, even as a kid. He always kept his cards neatly packed away until it was time for afternoon-break card trading, and, even then, he was always incredibly careful with how he handled his cards in the heat of battle.

Once in a while, he’ll buy a new pack of pokémon cards to add to his collection, but, for the most part, his collection is made up of cards he got before ‘07. Well, cards he got before ‘07 and some vintage cards that he’s gotten from online auctions. Online pokémon card auctions are a secret vice of his; it’s the closest he gets to gambling, other than betting against his mates on the outcomes of upcoming rugby matches and on whether or not they can chug a pint in less than three seconds (they can’t). He hasn’t spent too much money there, at least not compared to the millions of dollars that some collectors shell out on those things, but he has blown more of his income on those than he’d like to admit.

Tom doesn’t need to be taken care of or looked after much when he’s sloshed; he’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. However, your one task when he’s drunk is to keep him off those online auction sites. The only time you ever look through his phone is to make sure he hadn’t sneaked onto one of them while you weren’t looking the night before when he was drunk… Luckily, you’re really good at your unofficial job, so, usually, the only sites he’s sneaking onto when he’s plastered are 1) youtube to watch people blow shit up and fuck around with their engineering knowledge (he’s a simple man, he likes e’splosions and fucking around… but absolutely not finding out because fuck consequences), 2) your mum’s Facebook page so that he can go through her photos and look at all the ones of you (he doesn’t have any social media accounts of his own, and most of yours are private, so he has to resort to stalking your mum’s Facebook page to look at pictures of you… or, at least, to look at pictures of you that he doesn’t already have on his phone), and 3) fucking around with the ‘Special:Random’ feature on Wikipedia (he enjoys reading niche Wikipedia articles… but only the ones that involve fucky shit, like a famous politician getting a shoe thrown at them or the war against emus or Europe’s history of defenestration or famous historical sex cults).

Other websites that Tom is not allowed to get on whilst he’s drunk and why: 1) any pet supplies website because he will spend too much money on unnecessary purchases for The Lads, 2) the official Lego online store because he will spend too much money on new and exclusive sets, and 3) any website/app where you can order food online to be delivered because he will, spontaneously, order enough food to feed a small village if given the opportunity (he’s a foodie), and while he won’t waste all the food, he will eat himself sick and you will have to listen to his pitiful moans and groans (and retching) for the rest of the night.

[priestessame]

Strawberry milk

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✷ 🎀 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝒢𝑒𝓉❀u 𝒮𝓊𝑔𝓊𝓇𝓊 🎀 ✷

MinorS DNI

🍓Afab!Reader🍓

Warnings: dubcon, dumbification, Suguru is pussydrunk af, yandere themes, dirty talk, slight humiliation, mindbreak- this one is slightly dark ya'll idk. 🎀 ✷After loosing the war, all that's left is for Getou to commemorate you properly into his cult. 🎀 ✷

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For a villain who swore to kill you, he fucked you like he has loved you all his life. Kissing up your tears as you struggled to take his length and moaning praises against your mouth as he pounded into you. Somewhere down the line you were sure he had lost his mind too, gotten so pussydrunk he couldn't even form coherent thoughts.

You couldn't even tell how long it had been, the concept of time had warped around you, mind fuzzy from just all the pleasure. His rough fingers dug into you hips, holding you in place as his cock glided into your core, the mushroom tip pressing up so deeply it had you seeing stars. His calloused thumb rolled over your swollen clit, the other hand kneading into your breast, flicking and rubbing your nipple lazily.

He hadn't even taken the time to undress you properly, just haphazardly pulling your jujitsu kaisen uniform down, and sliding to your panties to the side. His impatience to take you would have been flattering if you wanted any of this happening.

You always thought he was attractive, you had even been empathetic towards him, but you never realized how closely he was observing you. Not until the final wall of defense had fallen and he had pinned you down against your will. You were the stupid one weren't you? to so blatantly fall for his gentlemanly façade. To hope he would show some mercy.

His grunt sent cold thrills down your spine, making you walls squeezed tighter around him. The way his cock throbbed inside you, you could tell he was going to come again, his hands slid down to your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. "so sweet, so perfect for me." He mewled out as his cock slammed into you at a cruel angle. He loved to fuck you in a mating press, making sure he can fuck his cum inside your deepest parts. That's the only way you'd really become his after all.

You can't help but babble incoherently, eyes short of rolling back from all the pleasure. At this point your mind was blanking, body trembling from exhaustion, but he still hadn't had enough, you surprised yourself with how willingly you had given yourself up to him, fucking your hips back into his and begging for release.

Suguru had just laughed and cooed you on, like he knew all along this is all you were. A pliant slut for his cock. His mouth slammed into yours again, shoving his tongue inside to taste you. "Look how well your pussy is milking me~" he said, his tone tipped with honey. "Its like you were made for me weren't you."

His thrusts grew more erratic as your own breaking point grew closer. "S-Suguru, I-I can't-"

"hmm?" he said, "Going to come again love?" he whispered against your mouth. "Go ahead, cum on my cock, show me how much you love me owning you."

You yelped from his words, broken syllables of his name tumbled out of your lips, the world around you melted as the only thing you could fathom now was the pleasure the man before you could offer. Your legs wrapped around him weakly as he continued to use you, "Suguru~ please, nhg please fill me up~ make me yours~" you pleaded.

The smile on his face was that of a man victorious, the humiliating sound of his hips snapping against yours filled the empty room. He grunted bottoming out inside you as your pleasure finally snapped, Your walls spasmed around him, finally drawing his own orgasm. Your back arched as the full intensity of the most intense orgasm you had ever felt trembled through your body.

Suguru growled as he spurted ropes of thick cum inside you, the tip still pressed up against your cervix. It was too much, so much, he made you feel so full you couldn't recall why you had been fighting him in the first place. His eyes burned into your glazed orbs like you were the only thing keeping him sane. He didn't meant to be this mean to you the first time, but he just couldn't help himself from fucking your warm cunt, he just had to break you until you couldn't think of anything but him.

He hated seeing you on the other side, standing with those disgusting monkeys, someone so ethereal and powerful as you should be by his side. He brushed your cheek gently, kissing the edge of your mouth, and if fighting a few more wars was a price for that, he wouldn't mind paying it, He really wouldn't mind it at all.

You felt his strong hands caress your body lovingly as you came down from your high, brushing the hair off your face, peppering your sides with feather light kisses. He was still inside you, as you felt his release dribble out of your cunt, overflowing. He squished you up against his torso as he pressed kisses on your forehead, "Tell you love me, sweetheart." he said softly.

"I love you Suguru~ I love you so much."

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yALL filthy for reading this. But i get you girl lets go to therapy together.

[rainecloud020604]

RAINE idk where you want to say it but can you tell me more about Universo's Holy Sinners AU 🥺I was thinking about it lots today and I wanna hear your Thoughts

oh my god this post ended up a mile long under the cut with ye!!

okay SO :3c Holy sinners is actually an AU that @flowerrose14 came up with by going "hehe wouldnt it be funny if Anthony was a demon and Universo was a priest and they had a thing going on" and well yea how could I not go wild with an idea like that? In Aus i do like to do things like change ocs species if need be, as for this au Universo instead of being a god is in fact an angel disguised as a priest on earth

Now the reason they are disguised is because he has been walking on the earth since like the late late 1800s and has grasped this is an area mortals tend to well use this position for power and manipulate people and Universo wanted to find a way to eliminate that, as well as get away from the role of a warrior angel as slaying demons constantly gets tiring and boring after a few hundred years :( finding a way to work themself into being a priest and also finding a specific church to work on and rid it of corruption and rebuild it to be more open and safe to all people of hell even different religions too

This is just a small but big goal universo has been working on for a WHILE, and in the mean time having a job got them a little too much money than he needed so in the 1950s they had a huge house built, several rooms and they planned it out perfectly so it could have several people living there as Uni wanted another place for people to be able to come to and live for a bit or a while if needed, the roof is high enough for them to get through and the smallest room is theirs as he doesnt really need that much and wants any people who he takes in to feel comfortable and get the room they prefer and not have to have the smallest one

though all of this is background stuff on this universo <33 it is minor things but it leads up to current uni who is a priest, and has a few kids hes taken custody of living in their house of all sorts of traumatized origins that well what can they do other than make sure they are comfortable and have a place the feel safe <3 Though there is Artsy who hates them because of Anthony's influence on her which leads to a lot of spite fueled actions where uni sits there going "okay good luck be safe" and her getting pissy ahfdkjhsfash

All while duel wielding this universo has to deal with Anthony. Who honestly just pisses off universo SO much because its just constant fighting and exorcisms and dealing with his bullshit that is flirting????? fucked up flirting???? Anthony just annoys Universo to hell and back and gets under their skin often enough that Uni has almost almost considered wiping Anthony off of this plane of existence because of this demons bullshit, but they havent so its fine! It's only like Anthony ripped off Universos brothers wings at some point and thats when universo finally snapped to let anthony get a small taste of what they are hiding underneath that guise of a priest <3 After all universo puts a lot of energy into concealing their aura of how powerful of an angel they are because well that can draw a lot of attention from demons he doesnt want at all! Though Anthony isn't helping at all :/

A lot of universos life is private though part of it is dragged into the public eye against their will, after all you house a cult victim and the news wants to be in your face constantly about it when shes out and about with you as you are trying to help her through exposure therapy to get out of the house a little more. A lot of this bullshit just annoys Universo but they do their best to appear relaxed and unbothered by it constantly, after all its just stupid stuff no need to give the public some entertainment while you are trying to help someone out >:( especially recovering from something traumatic, though his home life otherwise is rather chaotic in other means, got two ghosts in the house who were guardians of one kid who uni has decided to make sure their graves were proper and also the documentary about them and their criminal past before death didnt misgender either of them, its all a little chaotic but thats okay! after all Universo did in fact kinda welcome this into the house <3

theres so much going on with him and it makes me ghjekrgkehgerhgjk because they choose to juggle so much and its fine, he can handle being a holy man on top of this and making sure people of all practices have a place to do so <3 Universo rebuilt a catholic church for this purpose and he'll be damn sure this is a safe place as it took a lot of work

[arctichotch]

Look I clearly don’t know the entire amber heard/ Johnny depot story because no one does but it’s kinda fucked how the media is seeing everything. Like there are countless other cases of domestic abuse were a man was clearly an offender and they don’t get any attention/ the victim gets blamed because they put a hot guy in jail.

But this case gets so much attention? Probably because Amber Heard is a queer woman and eveyone loves showing attention to them in a negative light

I’m not saying I know enough at all to say who’s side I’m on but all of the Amber hate is vv weird

yes i agree. even if you have no knowledge or interest in who is in the wrong or who did what etc. it is just common sense to see and acknowledge that the media attention in just weird and wrong.

it was a smear campaign that snowballed with people (especially those with a platform of some sort eg. minor celebs, streamers, youtubers, tiktok etc) spreading misinformation that further defames amber heard.

like either way you look at it, it is obvious who is being attacked in the public eye. i’ve never seen this much targeted hate (often based purely off misinformation) to one person. and it’s not even a criminal trial. it’s a defamation case.

i don’t really know if it’s because amber is an openly bisexual woman, who has been in open relationships with women and just overall is open about her sexuality (i’m not gonna say it is or isn’t a factor because i have no evidence so support either).

or if people have seen an opportunity to let their misogynistic tendencies to run wild and not be shamed for it and instead gain views and likes from it.

or if it’s because johnny depp is such a beloved actor that has been in so many peoples lives since childhood.

or because people choose to only acknowledge the negative crap that has been taken out of context and twisted (e.g, the poop thing, the “tell the world, johnny” tape) which has led to this almost cult like gathering of people who dedicate themselves to hating amber heard when as a matter of fact, they do not know the actual background of this trial, the expert testimony etc. and instead rely on those STUPID body language analysts on youtube, the youtube lawyers etc.

it’s just a mass hate campaign against amber at this point that has built up johnny depp to be an angel when in fact he is such a bad person and always has been.

basically in a round about way, amber heard has been vilified by tiktok memes, youtube clips (of just a few minutes of an overall testimony), and the love and admiration of jd even though he is just a bad person and was bad long before amber arrived on the scene.

it just isn’t right how she is being attacked and spoke about in such disgusting manners online even if you think she’s guilty. some of the things said about her are straight up sick.

(also side note, why a trial discussing intense topics of domestic violence, sexual assault against a man with such a wide public following was allowed to be streamed live to millions upon millions everyday is baffling to me)

(edit: also also the whole narrative that has arisen that there is one way to be a victim and it looks nothing like amber heard is so fucking damaging. there is no one set way for victims to act. everyone is different and deals with trauma in different ways.)

[azmodeous-blog]

𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝟰, 𝗬𝗘𝗦 𝗜 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗜𝗧 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗬 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗪𝗛𝗢𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗛𝗔𝗦𝗡’𝗧!

So Season 4 of Stranger things has been nominated to win an Emmy and so has Big Mouth Season 5, now I’d like to explain why I think Stranger Things shouldn’t be getting an Emmy.

I honestly love Stranger Things and I have for a while, I’ve basically been watching it since it came out. But Season 4 just wasn’t as good. I’m not sure if it was just that there were too many characters or there was just too much going on or what it was but it was just different from the other magnificent seasons they’ve made. It just felt off. I think one of the big parts is just how much queerbaiting they did especially with Byler (Mike x Will). They kind of did it with Eddie and Steve, Nancy and Robin, Eleven and Max, etc. I’m not saying that every single character in Stranger Things has to be gay or anything like that (since people have been getting upset about that) I’m just saying that Netflix lost a lot of potential from not putting any of them together. Yes I know that Eleven was dating Mike and Max was sort of dating Lucas but still- Robin was single, Steve was single, and so was Steve. But where they really fucked up was with Byler. Holy shit I could write a whole ass chapter book on how much they fucked up with Byler. So many people have stated that Will liked someone even the creators the Duffer Brothers themselves said he did. But instead of using this or at least DOING ANYTHING WITH THIS, they used it to help out a completely heterosexual couple. It’s just disgusting that we could finally get a queer relationship in Stranger Things other than just Robin having a crush on a random girl (more on that later) but nope. That was taken away from us cuz we can’t have a queer relationship in the show. But we could’ve at least gotten another queer character but no, he barely even told anyone! He wouldn’t even tell Johnathan in a non metaphoric way. My mother who is literally Pansexual couldn’t understand, had me to explain it, then search it up to get it explained more cuz she had no clue why he was crying. No hate to my mom of course it’s just that some people won’t understand why he’s crying since they never said anything about him being gay in this season. It was said in previous seasons but not the one where he cries about not being able to date his best friend. I really hope they fix this in the next season but I doubt it. Now with Robin and the other girl I can’t remember the name of, I don’t like them. I’m glad that we actually get the possibility for a queer relationship in Stranger Things but she literally just entered in this season. I think it would’ve been better for Robin to have had a crush on Nancy instead simply because they obviously have more chemistry and just more scenes together than Robin and her crush. Robin and Nancy are obviously better friends and would work better because of that, because they have a friendship while Robin and her crush barely have anything. It’s sweet in the scenes that they’re in but Nancy and Robin just work better! Now my next topic for this is Eddie’s death. Yes I loved Eddie and it might sound just like I’m angry because he died but it’s more than that, it’s the reason that he died. I think it’s stupid that the creators won’t touch their main characters for death but they’ll kill off beloved characters THAT ONLY GOT ONE SEASON!!! Like Barb, Bob, and Alexei were all instantly loved by the fandom and then were instantly killed off!! Like Tf? They did the same thing to Eddie! Brought a new character in, people loved him, and then killed him off. But they would never even touch their precious little main characters. It’s stupid how Steve literally was also bitten by the bats so many times and then SURVIVED. Max broke all her Fucking 206 bones, blood came out of her eyes and she went blind and SURVIVED. But somehow Eddie gets bitten a couple times and then dies. It makes no sense. He also died For a town that saw him as a cult leader that killed hundreds of people! Like what the actual fuck. They didn’t deserve Eddie. Don’t think this as me absolutely hating Stranger Things, of course there were good things, there always were but they could’ve done so much better with this. I really hope they fix it in season 5 but again I really really doubt it.

Now Big Mouth! Big Mouth season 5 is honestly so much better and deserves the Emmy even more. It gets creative and talks about serious topics like love and hate and how sometimes those feelings aren’t exactly expressed in the best ways. Sure, it can be gross at some parts but that’s what makes Big Mouth different from any show I’ve ever seen! They’re not afraid to get gross and show actual representation than just one gay character! It also has amazing songs and just good, creative animation. Sure, stranger things talks about trauma and things like that but Big Mouth talks about, shame, masturbation (and how it’s healthy), periods, love, hate, expressing your feelings in an incorrect manner, suppressing your feelings, depression, anxiety, toxic relationships, grief, and a lot more! Topics that some shows won’t even touch! They just do so much and do it in such interesting ways even if they’re gross sometimes! But they do it in their own way! That’s why it deserves an Emmy, it doesn’t care what they’re talking about, they’ll do it! While stranger things dangles their topics and like lightly graces their fingers over them. Sure Stranger Things isn’t all about these topics but they won’t even show more than one gay character like Big Mouth does! Plus Big Mouth is just more creative and is just better to look at!

I’d love to hear y’all’s opinions (creative criticism please) about these in the comments!!

[blogtaculous]

I decided to take on Far Cry 5, and now that I’ve finished it boy do I have opinions!

What the fuck was the story. Like, what the fuck. This isn’t the good sort of “what the fuck” like when the alien shows up at the Brazilian birthday party, but the bad kind where nothing makes sense and everything is stupid. Four main antagonists and all of them are Vaas. It’s just Far Cry 3 again, but worse.

Not once in all the constant, endless, bad monologues from four people who spoke with the same cadence and vocabulary did I feel anything close to interest. Just awful writing. Talking in circles FOREVER for no reason. Did they even hint at anything? No. Just talking for the sake of talking. Zero charisma on display.

Far Cry’s tone is always weird, considering the main gameplay has the “holy shit can you believe that!” vibe but then the story is like “This guy is called The Cook because he made two kids eat their parents’ toes before setting them all on fire.” (Side note: it takes like 10 goddamn minutes of the slowest paced storytelling to learn about The Cook and I killed him in 8 seconds with a rocket launcher immediately after laying eyes on him)

The nuclear war was fucking dumb. Ubisoft thinks there were lots of clues, but in the end those clues were:

- Bog standard fictitious doomsday cult says the world is going to end

So when the nukes go off the only response I could muster was “huh?” I even knew that was going to happen (because it came out 5 years ago) so I was actively looking for the subtle clues and hints that was even on the table. Like… it wouldn’t have taken much, but when Ubisoft’s goal was obviously to create that twist ending there can’t be any substantial clues. If the player could guess it then Ubisoft would consider that a failure (the HBO gambit). There were opportunities during the NUMEROUS capture moments to expand on the possibility of nuclear war. I’m putting a pin in that because…

Speaking of unavoidable capture moments:

The capture squads were fucking dumb. Here’s a worthless combat encounter that is not winnable and inescapable. You get paralyzed and captured. The end. Absolutely trash. I know each of the lieutenants gets a moment of “ha, fooled you!” but this guy was so boring and so lame. I don’t even remember how he outsmarted the protagonist.

The Bliss induced haze was okay. I thought it was a little lame that the Marshall is “rescued” in one such haze, but when it was revealed he was compromised from the start I softened on it a little. The cutscene where he becomes Faith’s parrot and starts killing the militia in the prison was really good. I felt betrayed. Also I’m bummed that Faith gets exactly one line floating that Joseph is also manipulating her, and it’s right before she dies.

The random arrows to the thigh were stupid, and I thought the hallucination kill house was also stupid, though I began to get the hint and thought the execution of the Manchurian Candidate plot was really solid. Especially since that is the only area that requires the player constantly return to the militia base to get new tasks, so the parallels between the hallucination and the Wolf’s Den become obvious right as it’s too late. Plus, characters remark at the length Rook has been missing when he’s being conditioned. Seriously, a great story moment and cool twist.

The final boss fight was fucking goofy. It has a solid gimmick, though how the fuck did every named character get Blissed like that? It doesn’t make Joseph feel powerful or in control, it’s just contrived. The fight itself would be better if the battle arena was more than 5 square feet. Really stupid trying to revive someone while Joseph appears out of nowhere to kill everyone else. He also has a great line, right at the end, where he’s begging Rook to believe him, and it sounds sincere and desperate. Naturally it lasts one second then he’s back to being a jackass.

Back to the pin:

Joseph and his lieutenants are obtuse just for the sake of being obtuse, in service of keeping the nuclear twist a secret until the end. I could keep complaining, but here are some solutions:

- The Knock at the Cabin method: in the aforementioned film, Leonard et al prepare video material to convince Eric, Andrew, and Wen that the end of the world is, indeed, imminent. Joseph should have done this. “Next time I see you,” he says to Rook, “<thing is going to happen elsewhere in the world> which means apocalypse is coming and I have seen it already” so that Rook has to consider whether it’s a long con lie or truly the start of the end of the world.

- Don’t fucking end the game that way

Moving on to a related diatribe, it absolutely makes no sense that Jacob’s arrest by Rook brings out the start of nuclear war. Did Joseph just know those two unrelated events would take place at the same time? Who knows, but it certainly isn’t the writers of the game. This concept needed to be fleshed out, but honestly this entire story needed to be done in a different game where the core gameplay loop is something other than “explore a huge world however you want with whatever tools you like and slowly liberate it.” Ubisoft also can’t fall back on “there were radio broadcasts that things were going bad in the rest of the world!” because who fucking listens to those (I didn’t hear even one) and, again, why would an intense global geopolitical crisis hinge on A RANDOM ROOKIE SHERIFF’S DEPUTY ARRESTING A CULT LEADER IN MONTANA??

Anyway, it was an okay game, because Far Cry games are pretty consistent in quality of gameplay. I’m glad there was no crafting. I wish there were more weapons. The perk system was good.

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

scapegoat, blessed lamb || loic || reaction

There was one truth Loic could easily say that he shared more deeply than anything with the now-cooling corpse on the ground, and that truth was that the bond you had with your brother was everything. So long as you had that, then you were able to make it through anything. Maxime was, for much of his life, the only sort of stability or companionship he had. For Juzo, maybe Jinpachi was that, too.

Maybe that’s what the younger man had meant when he said that Loic would understand one day, and that day simply came early. Maybe he’d hoped to keep their minds and attentions occupied for so long that Jinpachi could reconsider this whole “dramatic reveal” sort of thing, reconsider what he had done, take back the years that made this cult what it was today, rewind time to a world where they were just brothers, take it back and say sorry--

Loic bites down on the nail of his thumb before that thought can go anywhere he would rather it not. 

(There is, however, the impossible to ignore whisper in the back of his mind that claws on the innards of his skull. It whispers how both Juzo and himself stood at their podiums and lied to the faces of everyone in this room, claiming to have taken a life that they did not, to conceal their brother’s involvement. Like concealing it would make it so it never happened in the first place, and they could take the burden of blame instead because of some intrinsic failure they had to keep this fate from befalling their brother in the first place.)

(Though impossible to ignore, Loic instead chooses to crush it.)

His eyes don’t leave the pooling blood, the motionless form, for several moments. Eventually, they travel up to The Shepherd and their entourage. He tries to steel himself to meet each of their eyes for a moment, but he fails. The only one he manages to stare down is the one who wants the attention the most in the first place:

Jinpachi Otsuka, The Shepherd, older brother to Juzo.

“How…have we been?”

He asks in almost a whisper before letting out a chuckle that turns into a full-body laugh for just a brief second before he stamps it out.

“Well, we’ve been--fucking trapped in your murder game! So! Pretty awful! Thanks! What did you want us to say, exactly? Oh, we’ve been having a great time, wish we could have--gone on for more!?”

His voice had shifted into something joyful and light, a reminder, maybe, that Jinpachi’s not the only one here who can put on a different voice when he wants to. The only difference between their sort of acting is that one of them knows when enough is more than enough, and Loic certainly has learned impulse control over the course of his life.

“You know, for some--some all-powerful or whatever cult leader, it’s pretty telling that you felt the need to bring your #besties into the trial with you? Like, I don’t know, I just…think that’s interesting. Almost like you know you don’t know how to clean up your own messes and have to rely on other people to do it for you every single time. Or because you knew that you seriously were not making it out of here with all of your bones in tact if you--didn’t.”

Lifting his hand, he begins to play with his earring, feeling the comforting and grounding sway and gentle thump against his finger each time it swings

“I knew something was wrong with you from the very start, you know that? Something was off, and I didn’t want to gloat about it when it was your brother in front of us because, fuck, he’s got something going for him, and it’s called the world’s shittiest older brother. But you? You’re just a freak. You and all of your little lackeys--you’re all freakshows! And I cannot wait for you to open those stupid votes for us because obviously you’re going to, and we will all gladly vote, and we will all gladly leave.”

His shoulders shudder as he tries to catch his breath for a few seconds, and he eventually just shakes his head.

“You…How could you do that to him? He loved you. He asked me if I thought that treatment was possible for anyone, no matter how severe, and I said yes. I believed that. But you…”

Loic loses that vindication, that triumph he had been holding onto the high of, and he’s left feeling a deep sympathy for Juzo.

(Later, it will turn to empathy.)

“If you’re willing to treat him like that…maybe it isn’t.”

[arielmagicesi]

5 + 7 from the fic ask!

Aaahh thanks so much

5. How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

Already answered in a different ask

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

Idk what counts as "a snippet" but I'm posting a long section because I've had writer's block on this story for months now but I'm proud of this bit that I wrote back in March:

“I used to be better,” he said. “I used to be better. I used to be human, and strong, and feel things. Now so oftentimes I just feel nothing. And I wish I could have friends and loved ones, but it’s not possible for me.”

“Why is it not possible for you?”

“I don’t know! Probably just something bad and wrong with me! The only time I was loved for real, it turned out to be a big fake fraud!”

Lilith took some quick notes.

“What time was that?” she asked.

“In the Wellness Center. It was this place-”

“Jan’s Wellness Center?” Lilith asked.

She’d heard about that place. It was a horror story that had spread through the cryptid therapy community. An underground vampire cult had formed, led by a woman named Jan, who had promised her followers humanity. She’d managed to keep the racket going for several decades, making an obscene amount of money on the black market from vampire fangs and bodily fluids that she took from her followers. The whole horrible story had come out when a slayer had happened upon the cult and attacked them, and Jan had taken the survivors for a ritual suicide before escaping herself.

Nandor nodded.

“Oh,” Lilith said. “Whoa. That’s…”

“Stupid and dumb of me, I know,” Nandor said.

“No, not at all. I was going to say that’s intense. Nandor, you survived a cult. From what I’ve heard, a very dangerous cult. I’m- well, I’m shocked you haven’t been brought in for therapy before now.”

“I didn’t need it,” Nandor said. “I’ve been handling my independence by myself. Laszlo is the one who insisted on this. He said that my hysteria has been giving Colin Robinson a stomachache from eating too much of my energy.”

-----

aaaand I'm gonna be super self-indulgent and post a bit from my OTHER wip:

Before she could make a decision about whether to go over and say hi, Rebecca shouted, “Oh my God!” and locked eyes with her across the bar. Fuck.

Annie froze in place.

“Annie Edison?” Rebecca shouted. “Guys, it’s Annie Edison!”

“OK, so we do not know who that is,” one of her friends said in a monotone. Annie had been led to believe that gay bars would have extremely loud pop music playing, but this bar’s sad indie girl music was playing quietly enough that she could hear the bachelorette party’s entire conversation from across the bar.

Annie waved awkwardly. “Hi.”

“Get over here! Come on!” Rebecca insisted, waving Annie over. Annie grimaced awkwardly and grabbed her drink from the bar, walking on over to the bachelorette party.

“Hi,” she said again, waving at the party, which consisted of a handful of women dressed in matching t-shirts that read “#BethlenciaWedding”.

“OK, guys,” Rebecca said. In the past 30 seconds, she was proving to be as over-the-top and loud as she’d been back at camp twenty years ago. “This is Annie Edison, she was, like, my best friend for two months at Camp Kvetcher. You remember, that awful Jewish summer camp my mom made me go to when I was twelve where they literally forced us to pray all the time and it was, totally, like, a patriarchal thing about finding a Jewish husband and anyway that’s not the point hiii Annie how have you been?”

---

Rereading those bits is making me want to actually work on the WIPs so yay I might do that soon! let's hope lol. Anyway thank you so much for the ask! I love to talk about me

[missmentelle]

Why Smart People Believe Stupid Things

If you’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years, you might have noticed that the world has a bit of a misinformation problem. 

The problem isn’t just with the recent election conspiracies, either. The last couple of years has brought us the rise (and occasionally fall) of misinformation-based movements like:

Sandy Hook conspiracies

Gamergate

Pizzagate

The MRA/incel/MGTOW movements

anti-vaxxers

flat-earthers

the birther movement

the Illuminati 

climate change denial

Spygate

Holocaust denial 

COVID-19 denial 

5G panic 

QAnon 

But why do people believe this stuff?

It would be easy - too easy - to say that people fall for this stuff because they’re stupid. We all want to believe that smart people like us are immune from being taken in by deranged conspiracies. But it’s just not that simple. People from all walks of life are going down these rabbit holes - people with degrees and professional careers and rich lives have fallen for these theories, leaving their loved ones baffled. Decades-long relationships have splintered this year, as the number of people flocking to these conspiracies out of nowhere reaches a fever pitch. 

So why do smart people start believing some incredibly stupid things? It’s because:

Our brains are built to identify patterns. 

Our brains fucking love puzzles and patterns. This is a well-known phenomenon called apophenia, and at one point, it was probably helpful for our survival - the prehistoric human who noticed patterns in things like animal migration, plant life cycles and the movement of the stars was probably a lot more likely to survive than the human who couldn’t figure out how to use natural clues to navigate or find food. 

The problem, though, is that we can’t really turn this off. Even when we’re presented with completely random data, we’ll see patterns. We see patterns in everything, even when there’s no pattern there. This is why people see Jesus in a burnt piece of toast or get superstitious about hockey playoffs or insist on always playing at a certain slot machine - our brains look for patterns in the constant barrage of random information in our daily lives, and insist that those patterns are really there, even when they’re completely imagined. 

A lot of conspiracy theories have their roots in people making connections between things that aren’t really connected. The belief that “vaccines cause autism” was bolstered by the fact that the first recognizable symptoms of autism happen to appear at roughly the same time that children receive one of their rounds of childhood immunizations - the two things are completely unconnected, but our brains have a hard time letting go of the pattern they see there. Likewise, many people were quick to latch on to the fact that early maps of COVID infections were extremely similar to maps of 5G coverage -  the fact that there’s a reasonable explanation for this (major cities are more likely to have both high COVID cases AND 5G networks) doesn’t change the fact that our brains just really, really want to see a connection there. 

Our brains love proportionality. 

Specifically, our brains like effects to be directly proportional to their causes - in other words, we like it when big events have big causes, and small causes only lead to small events. It’s uncomfortable for us when the reverse is true. And so anytime we feel like a “big” event (celebrity death, global pandemic, your precious child is diagnosed with autism) has a small or unsatisfying cause (car accident, pandemics just sort of happen every few decades, people just get autism sometimes), we sometimes feel the need to start looking around for the bigger, more sinister, “true” cause of that event. 

Consider, for instance, the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot four times by a Turkish member of a known Italian paramilitary secret society who’d recently escaped from prison - on the surface, it seems like the sort of thing conspiracy theorists salivate over, seeing how it was an actual multinational conspiracy. But they never had much interest in the assassination attempt. Why? Because the Pope didn’t die. He recovered from his injuries and went right back to Pope-ing. The event didn’t have a serious outcome, and so people are content with the idea that one extremist carried it out. The death of Princess Diana, however, has been fertile ground for conspiracy theories; even though a woman dying in a car accident is less weird than a man being shot four times by a paid political assassin, her death has attracted more conspiracy theories because it had a bigger outcome. A princess dying in a car accident doesn’t feel big enough. It’s unsatisfying. We want such a monumentous moment in history to have a bigger, more interesting cause. 

These theories prey on pre-existing fear and anger. 

Are you a terrified new parent who wants the best for their child and feels anxious about having them injected with a substance you don’t totally understand? Congrats, you’re a prime target for the anti-vaccine movement. Are you a young white male who doesn’t like seeing more and more games aimed at women and minorities, and is worried that “your” gaming culture is being stolen from you? You might have been very interested in something called Gamergate. Are you a right-wing white person who worries that “your” country and way of life is being stolen by immigrants, non-Christians and coastal liberals? You’re going to love the “all left-wingers are Satantic pedo baby-eaters” messaging of QAnon. 

Misinformation and conspiracy theories are often aimed strategically at the anxieties and fears that people are already experiencing. No one likes being told that their fears are insane or irrational; it’s not hard to see why people gravitate towards communities that say “yes, you were right all along, and everyone who told you that you were nuts to be worried about this is just a dumb sheep. We believe you, and we have evidence that you were right along, right here.” Fear is a powerful motivator, and you can make people believe and do some pretty extreme things if you just keep telling them “yes, that thing you’re afraid of is true, but also it’s way worse than you could have ever imagined.”

Real information is often complicated, hard to understand, and inherently unsatisfying. 

The information that comes from the scientific community is often very frustrating for a layperson; we want science to have hard-and-fast answers, but it doesn’t. The closest you get to a straight answer is often “it depends” or “we don’t know, but we think X might be likely”. Understanding the results of a scientific study with any confidence requires knowing about sampling practices, error types, effect sizes, confidence intervals and publishing biases. Even asking a simple question like “is X bad for my child” will usually get you a complicated, uncertain answer - in most cases, it really just depends. Not understanding complex topics makes people afraid - it makes it hard to trust that they’re being given the right information, and that they’re making the right choices. 

Conspiracy theories and misinformation, on the other hand, are often simple, and they are certain. Vaccines bad. Natural things good. 5G bad. Organic food good. The reason girls won’t date you isn’t a complex combination of your social skills, hygiene, appearance, projected values, personal circumstances, degree of extroversion, luck and life phase - girls won’t date you because feminism is bad, and if we got rid of feminism you’d have a girlfriend. The reason Donald Trump was an unpopular president wasn’t a complex combination of his public bigotry, lack of decorum, lack of qualifications, open incompetence, nepotism, corruption, loss of soft power, refusal to uphold the basic responsibilities of his position or his constant lying - they hated him because he was fighting a secret sex cult and they’re all in it. 

Instead of making you feel stupid because you’re overwhelmed with complex information, expert opinions and uncertain advice, conspiracy theories make you feel smart - smarter, in fact, than everyone who doesn’t believe in them. And that’s a powerful thing for people living in a credential-heavy world. 

Many conspiracy theories are unfalsifiable. 

It is very difficult to prove a negative. If I tell you, for instance, that there’s no such thing as a purple swan, it would be very difficult for me to actually prove that to you - I could spend the rest of my life photographing swans and looking for swans and talking to people who know a lot about swans, and yet the slim possibility would still exist that there was a purple swan out there somewhere that I just hadn’t found yet. That’s why, in most circumstances, the burden of proof lies with the person making the extraordinary claim - if you tell me that purple swans exist, we should continue to assume that they don’t until you actually produce a purple swan. 

Conspiracy theories, however, are built so that it’s nearly impossible to “prove” them wrong. Is there any proof that the world’s top-ranking politicians and celebrities are all in a giant child sex trafficking cult? No. But can you prove that they aren’t in a child sex-trafficking cult? No, not really. Even if I, again, spent the rest of my life investigating celebrities and following celebrities and talking to people who know celebrities, I still couldn’t definitely prove that this cult doesn’t exist - there’s always a chance that the specific celebrities I’ve investigated just aren’t in the cult (but other ones are!) or that they’re hiding evidence of the cult even better than we think. Lack of evidence for a conspiracy theory is always treated as more evidence for the theory - we can’t find anything because this goes even higher up than we think! They’re even more sophisticated at hiding this than we thought! People deeply entrenched in these theories don’t even realize that they are stuck in a circular loop where everything seems to prove their theory right - they just see a mountain of “evidence” for their side. 

Our brains are very attached to information that we “learned” by ourselves.

Learning accurate information is not a particularly interactive or exciting experience. An expert or reliable source just presents the information to you in its entirety, you read or watch the information, and that’s the end of it. You can look for more information or look for clarification of something, but it’s a one-way street - the information is just laid out for you, you take what you need, end of story. 

Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, almost never show their hand all at once. They drop little breadcrumbs of information that slowly lead you where they want you to go. This is why conspiracy theorists are forever telling you to “do your research” - they know that if they tell you everything at once, you won’t believe them. Instead, they want you to indoctrinate yourself slowly over time, by taking the little hints they give you and running off to find or invent evidence that matches that clue. If I tell you that celebrities often wear symbols that identify them as part of a cult and that you should “do your research” about it, you can absolutely find evidence that substantiates my claim - there are literally millions of photos of celebrities out there, and anyone who looks hard enough is guaranteed to find common shapes, poses and themes that might just mean something (they don’t - eyes and triangles are incredibly common design elements, and if I took enough pictures of you, I could also “prove” that you also clearly display symbols that signal you’re in the cult). 

The fact that you “found” the evidence on your own, however, makes it more meaningful to you. We trust ourselves, and we trust that the patterns we uncover by ourselves are true. It doesn’t feel like you’re being fed misinformation - it feels like you’ve discovered an important truth that “they” didn’t want you to find, and you’ll hang onto that for dear life. 

Older people have not learned to be media-literate in a digital world. 

Fifty years ago, not just anyone could access popular media. All of this stuff had a huge barrier to entry - if you wanted to be on TV or be in the papers or have a radio show, you had to be a professional affiliated with a major media brand. Consumers didn’t have easy access to niche communities or alternative information - your sources of information were basically your local paper, the nightly news, and your morning radio show, and they all more or less agreed on the same set of facts. For decades, if it looked official and it appeared in print, you could probably trust that it was true. 

Of course, we live in a very different world today - today, any asshole can accumulate an audience of millions, even if they have no credentials and nothing they say is actually true (like “The Food Babe”, a blogger with no credentials in medicine, nutrition, health sciences, biology or chemistry who peddles health misinformation to the 3 million people who visit her blog every month). It’s very tough for older people (and some younger people) to get their heads around the fact that it’s very easy to create an “official-looking” news source, and that they can’t necessarily trust everything they find on the internet. When you combine that with a tendency toward “clickbait headlines” that often misrepresent the information in the article, you have a generation struggling to determine who they can trust in a media landscape that doesn’t at all resemble the media landscape they once knew. 

These beliefs become a part of someone’s identity. 

A person doesn’t tell you that they believe in anti-vaxx information - they tell you that they ARE an anti-vaxxer. Likewise, people will tell you that they ARE a flat-earther, a birther, or a Gamergater. By design, these beliefs are not meant to be something you have a casual relationship with, like your opinion of pizza toppings or how much you trust local weather forecasts - they are meant to form a core part of your identity. 

And once something becomes a core part of your identity, trying to make you stop believing it becomes almost impossible. Once we’ve formed an initial impression of something, facts just don’t change our minds. If you identify as an antivaxxer and I present evidence that disproves your beliefs, in your mind, I’m not correcting inaccurate information - I am launching a very personal attack against a core part of who you are. In fact, the more evidence I present, the more you will burrow down into your antivaxx beliefs, more confident than ever that you are right. Admitting that you are wrong about something that is important to you is painful, and your brain would prefer to simply deflect conflicting information rather than subject you to that pain.

We can see this at work with something called the confirmation bias. Simply put, once we believe something, our brains hold on to all evidence that that belief is true, and ignore evidence that it’s false. If I show you 100 articles that disprove your pet theory and 3 articles that confirm it, you’ll cling to those 3 articles and forget about the rest. Even if I show you nothing but articles that disprove your theory, you’ll likely go through them and pick out any ambiguous or conflicting information as evidence for “your side”, even if the conclusion of the article shows that you are wrong - our brains simply care about feeling right more than they care about what is actually true.  

There is a strong community aspect to these theories. 

There is no one quite as supportive or as understanding as a conspiracy theorist - provided, of course, that you believe in the same conspiracy theories that they do. People who start looking into these conspiracy theories are told that they aren’t crazy, and that their fears are totally valid. They’re told that the people in their lives who doubted them were just brainwashed sheep, but that they’ve finally found a community of people who get where they’re coming from. Whenever they report back to the group with the “evidence” they’ve found or the new elaborations on the conspiracy theory that they’ve been thinking of (“what if it’s even worse than we thought??”), they are given praise for their valuable contributions. These conspiracy groups often become important parts of people’s social networks - they can spend hours every day talking with like-minded people from these communities and sharing their ideas. 

Of course, the flipside of this is that anyone who starts to doubt or move away from the conspiracy immediately loses that community and social support. People who have broken away from antivaxx and QAnon often say that the hardest part of leaving was losing the community and friendships they’d built - not necessarily giving up on the theory itself. Many people are rejected by their real-life friends and family once they start to get entrenched in conspiracy theories; the friendships they build online in the course of researching these theories often become the only social supports they have left, and losing those supports means having no one to turn to at all. This is by design - the threat of losing your community has kept people trapped in abusive religious sects and cults for as long as those things have existed. 

[sawkinator]

Neopets NFTs: A tangent

(A somewhat continuation of my previous posts about the Neopets NFTs)

Okay so this doesn’t have much to do with the NFTs or Neopets Metaverse ‘project’ itself but imo it’s kind of wild on its own and needs to be recorded for posterity

So there’s one person in particular who’s been a major shill for the Neopets NFTs since the beginning. Let’s call them ‘Musty’.

Now I say ‘shill’ but I and many others believe he isn’t actually paid, he’s just that passionate about a project that, frankly, was doomed to start from the beginning, blissfully ignoring the insane amount of red flags.

At the beginning of this whole thing this dude spent like, 36 hours on the Neoboards (basically the Neopets forums) shilling the project and debating anyone who had any concerns.

He did so with a rather young account that already had a lot of nice pets on it which was kind of sus (and like. a lot of NFTbros bought shell accounts to do this. Which is just sad.)

This guy also came into the Discord server for the Neopets subreddit to try and have ‘debates’ about NFTs and the Metaverse but ended up just being a huge prick. Finally he was banned.

Musty continued to be a huge proponent of the project in the Metaverse server, telling people to stop spreading ‘fud’ (Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt) about the project and acting almost like a cult member? This dude’s vibes are rancid.

“NFTs can help get people out of poverty! Also fuck you if you’re poor lmao” ???

However when Neopets Metaverse announced the changes to their launch, like dropping Raydium and introducing a ‘price curve’ where the NFTs would get more expensive the more were sold. This upset Musty enough to even write an entire blog post begging the Metaverse team to delay the launch and change the launch method to be more ‘fair’.

Which like... Neopets (especially under Jumpstart) has a looong history of not really listening to the userbase on basically anything, and given that Jumpstart’s parent company, Netdragon, owned 2 of the 3 companies involved in this project. Almost the entire active Neopets community was vehemently against the NFTs and they went ahead with it anyways. You think they’d listen to one NFTbro and his opinions about how they should do the launch? Almost certainly not.

So with that background, let’s get to the genuinely crazy part of the story: the Maraquan Lutari.

This guy really loves this particular species/color combo, and one was even his active pet on the Neoboards (he claimed he ‘bought’ it but he also might have used a perk that Neopets Premium users have where you can make a pet basically any species/color combo you want but who even fucking knows. Also why did this guy buy a premium membership on a one-week-old account?). Musty had even been hoping to get or buy an NFT featuring a Maraquan Lutari.

The problem with this particular pet is that it was a fanmade design that Neopets asked the creator if they could use on the website, and at one point it was decided that any fanmade pet designs wouldn’t be used in the NFTs.

Naturally this also pissed Musty off, so in response, he took an image of his own Maraquan Lutari and minted it into an NFT without the original artist’s permission.

Of course this didn’t go unnoticed, and he was called out for it.

Even the original artist commented on his tweet about his NFT about how stupid he was being.

And then, under the guise of ‘properly paying artists’ (but not fucking asking permission to use their art in the first place apparently), he offered to compensate the artist.

In cryptocurrency.

Why crypto and not actual money? Supposedly, because he doesn’t like Paypal (which like, fair. But paying with monopoly money that burns down forests isn’t that morally superior my good bitch. Also like... Venmo exists.)

Of course, the artist turned down this ridiculous offer. Not long after minting his Lutari, it was taken down with a DMCA because at the end of the day it’s copyrighted Neopets material.

Now the REAL kicker to this whole story: neither Lutaris or Maraquan-painted pets were included in the NFTs. This guy was never going to get his Maraquan Lutari NFT.

And that’s the story of Musty, the Maraquan Lutari Guy.

(s/o to everyone on the r/Neopets Discord for the screenshots)

[deepdarkdelights]

10 Years (Jungkook x Reader) (10 Seconds Part 3)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Manipulation, Murder, scenes of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Past Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Torture (not depicted), Cult Like Activity, Forced Relationships, Smut, Blood (lots of it), Fear, Contraception 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is.

A/N: SURPRISE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABIES! Just for you, here is part three! I spent a whole week dedicating hours to write it so I could have a treat ready for you this Halloween! To date, this is my favorite chapter and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did!

Read Part Here (1) // Read Part Here (2) // Read Part Here (4)

You had pissed him off, that much was obvious. His fingers were still curled into the fabric of your underwear, one flex away from ripping them off. His jaw was tense and his cheeks hallowed in irritation as he fixed you with his intense glare. Jungkook was many things to you, the number one being your source of immeasurable fear. In that moment though, your glare was just as harsh; you were just as angry as he was but for far different reasons. 

You were angry, but you also weren’t stupid. You knew that this could go one of two ways. You could fight back and piss him off further resulting in another punishment or him taking you anyways. Or you could play his game. 

For once, you thanked God that you were such a fucking crybaby because letting all your pent up feelings out was going to be good for what you were going to do next. Your lips trembled as your eyes watered, brimming with tears that threatened to wet your flushed cheeks. You clenched your eyes shut as a choked cry left your lips, your hand coming up to harshly smack his chest. 

“You don’t really love me!” You cried, trying to roll onto your side and away from him while curling your hands into your near naked chest. 

There was a pause of silence between the two of you, his confusion palpable. You pulled your legs free from him and curled up into a ball, loud sobs leaving your chest that sounded more animal than human. As your cries grew louder he finally snapped out of shock, his hands desperately reaching for you as you shrunk away from his touch. 

“Baby, baby!” He called, his voice sounding more hurt each time you rejected him; shrinking into yourself further. “Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?”

“No!” You yelled, sounding more like a petulant child than a scorned lover. “All you want is to use me, you don’t care about me!” You cried dramatically, turning onto your stomach so you could bury your face in your forearms. 

It was like all of the events you had endured were becoming fuel for you, each horrible thing he had done to you spurring tears upon tears to help your performance. You would make him believe you, you had to if it would buy you some time. 

“That’s not true! I love you more than anything, I just wanted to show you how much I love you, baby.” He said, his hands sliding over your waist and under your stomach to turn you over to face him. Your eyes remained clenched shut as he rolled you over, your face wet and hot from the tantrum you had thrown. You almost had him, you could feel him walking straight into your trap. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“You don’t care,” You sobbed, shaking your head. “You only want to have sex with me. You don’t even care about what I want.” You sniffled, bringing your shaking hands up to cover your tear streaked face.

“Fuck, that’s far from the truth. Please tell me what you want, baby. Please, I’ll do anything for you.” He whispered, his much lager hands gently curling around your smaller wrists and prying them from your face so he could catch a glimpse of you. 

Your heart pounded harder at his words, your first thoughts heading towards your freedom. But you quickly stunted that thought, you knew when he said “anything” he meant “anything but that.” You would have to make do with what you had, and your first mission was to keep yourself untouched by him. 

He brought your hand up to his face, pressing light kisses to each finger as soft pleas fell from his lips. He really was at your mercy, intoxicated by your scent, touch, and doe eyes. All it took was a few tears to have him like this for you. But you still knew better, you knew there was a beast lurking beneath the surface of those innocent round eyes and bunny-like smiles. You wouldn’t be fooled by him.

“I-” You began, a hiccup breaking your voice. “I want to save myself for marriage, I always have.” You said, forcing yourself to remain still as he ceased pressing kisses to your knuckles only stopping to raise your hand to cup the smooth flesh of his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as leaned into your palm, breathing in your scent just by your pulse.

“So, you’re my good girl then? No one else has touched you?” He asked, long lashes still grazing the dips beneath his eyes. 

You nodded in affirmation only to realize he still couldn’t see you. “Yes, no one has.” You agreed.

A sigh of relief had him falling limp against you, removing your hand from his cheek so he could press a kiss to the center of your palm. His demeanor had shifted so quickly even you were surprised. He gently looped his arms beneath your waist and dragged the two of you up into a sitting position, sliding you onto his lap with ease and pressing your chest to his own. It was horrifyingly intimate, the feeling of his bare chest flush against your barely clothed one. He was warm and strong and would have been comforting had the circumstances been different.

That was something you thought often: had the circumstances been different. But they weren’t. Jungkook was as selfish as he was lonely, and because of that he was delusional and overbearing. Sometimes his presence closed in so tightly on your own you felt as if you couldn’t get a single breath in. And because of that, you longed to be miles away from him. He was suffocating you so slowly and ever so painfully. 

His fingers wove themselves into your hair, guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder as he held you close. “I'll wait for you, and only for you.”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

He held you to his chest for a while and nothing was said between the two of you. There was only the steady rise and fall of your chests against one another while his fingers carded through your hair. Your eyes had fluttered shut yet your body was still tense, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be touched in this way. But you knew you could never fully let your guard down around him, he was far too unpredictable. But all that time spent with him had been in your favor, now you knew what made him tick. And you were going to exploit that.

Jungkook pulled you away from his body, his eyes tracing your face. He gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss, so light it was barely there, to your lips. You could feel him sigh against your lower lip before he reluctantly pulled away. He had to prove to you now that he wasn’t solely after your body, although that was an added benefit for him. He could wait, just for a little while longer.

He leaned over the side of the bed and scooped up his previously abandoned shirt, guiding your arms through the sleeves and pulling the collar down over your head. He couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your head popping up and out of the shirt, your figure drowning in his clothes. His eyes strayed, following where the hem of his shirt laid at the tops of your thighs. You were so tempting, it was no wonder you thought he was only after your body.

Before he could get too distracted he leaned over you and yanked the chain of the lamp, effectively drowning the two of you in a deep pool of darkness. You froze for a moment, your heart thudding as you lost sight of him and what he was doing. You couldn’t see him, but you could still definitely feel him. His strong arms had already curled around your waist, yanking you down on top of him. You yelped in fear as you once more collided with his chest. The man was like a fucking brick wall. You could feel the ginger brush of his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand to rest on his bare chest as he tucked your head into the crook of his neck. You were sure if anyone were to walk in you would look like lovers. How far from the truth they would be.

You were shaking now, the reality of what has almost happened finding you in the seclusion of the dark. But you had to remind yourself, you had outsmarted him this time. You were finally beginning to understand the game: fake it til you make it. If you could play along for long enough then you could find your way out of here. And you were more determined than ever. 

“You cold, baby?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence first. He must have felt you shaking. 

You nodded in response, trying to play off what you were actually feeling. Fear. Jungkook grasped the edge of the blanket and pulled it up higher, pressing the two of you together beneath the warmth of the covers. You closed your eyes once more, and this time you tried to pretend he was someone else. Anyone else. It was much harder than anticipated, you knew his scent, his touch, and his form. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of him. 

But you would try. 

You could feel sleep coming for you, the crash of emotions you had survived finally taking their toll on you once more. 

You had made it 10 days, how much longer would you have to last? 

“Baby,” Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

Long enough to escape, that was for sure. 

~~~~~~~

The next day, things already seemed to be so different. To say you were surprised was an understatement. The ten days of hell you had endured with Jungkook could have been a dream for all you knew. He still was the same way you remembered him to be, clingy, whiny, and overbearingly affectionate. But for the duration of that day, nothing he did had the same sexual undertone you had dealt with for the past ten days.

You were relieved, it seemed like you were finally getting a hold of your horrible situation. Well, for now at least. Jungkook was going to be far easier to fool than his father. And you couldn’t lie, his father terrified you to no end. He had trained Jungkook’s mother into absolute obedience with his unrelenting and ruthless nature. You were sure that if anyone was going to be able to spot your fakery from a mile away, it was going to be him without a doubt. So you had one choice, you were going to have to sell it good. 

And that meant having to do things you really didn’t want to do. 

Very quickly, you found yourself taking on the role of a traditional housewife. Jungkook had made it clear before that that was something he didn’t expect from you. All he wanted was you, or so he claimed. He said that he liked doing things together, he didn’t want you being forced into the traditional role you never truly wanted. But you knew what his father expected, and if you were going to win this game you were going to have to sacrifice a few of your pieces.

And you also knew that if you could keep this charade up for long enough, you could fool them all. It was only a matter of time, and you were willing to give up a few days, weeks, or months to find your freedom again. And if that meant making meals with Jungkook’s mother, cleaning the house, and folding fucking laundry you would do it all with a smile.

Days were passing faster and melting into weeks, and at this point you couldn’t really tell how long you had been missing. You wondered if your family was looking for you, if your friends missed you, or if everyone assumed you were dead in a ditch at this point, your flesh melting away and returning to the earth from which it came from. Sometimes, you even wondered if that would have been better. To have been discarded and left to disappear if it meant you didn’t have to pretend to be something you weren’t and if it meant that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of being punished for a misstep or cower under the sharp glare of Jungkook’s father. But you were determined, fucking terrified but so determined to make it out of this alive. 

The call of your name pulled you from the lull of your thoughts. You shook your head to clear you from your daze. Your hands were plunged under warm soapy water, a plate held in your motionless hands. 

“There you are, I thought I lost you for a moment.” Jungkook’s mother giggled, her small hands delicately drying the plate in her grasp. 

You gave her a gentle smile in response, lifting the plate from the water and giving it one more rinse before handing it over to her. There was one upside to this endeavor, you had someone you could call a friend. You liked her, it was hard not to with all of the time you spent together. Her warm, motherly nature was comforting in a place like this. And it made you miss your own mom even more.

“Jungkook seems happier lately.” She mused, gazing out of the window above the sink. You followed her line of sight, seeing Jungkook and his father outside on the back deck with the red flare of a cigarette tucked between his father’s lips. 

She wasn’t wrong, ever since you had started playing along he seemed more relaxed, happier even. Even now a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he listened to whatever his father was saying. But you could tell he wasn’t really listening, his eyes had that far off look to them like he was somewhere else entirely.

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” She said softly, setting down the freshly dried plate to turn and look at you. “I’ve never seen him so happy before. Jungkook was always a quiet child, he kept to himself for the most part. But you bring out parts of him I rarely got to see.” She smiled.

Yeah, the depraved parts are what you brought out. You let out a gentle sigh, welcoming the faux smile you had grown accustomed to to settle on your lips. “I wish we could have met on different terms.”

That wasn’t a total lie. 

“I know, sweetie. The first couple years are always the hardest.” She replied, lightly resting her hands on the tops of your shoulders with a tender smile. “It just takes some time for people like us, outsiders, to get used to their way of life.”

This wasn’t the first time she had told you this and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes you forgot she wasn’t just a mother, she was a person who has been brainwashed so meticulously you had no doubt all of the work that had been done on her had no way of coming unraveled. And you would be damned if you were going to let that happen to you too. You liked her a lot, and she liked you too. But you had no doubt in your mind that if it came down to it, she would never help you escape. Most likely, she would turn you over to her husband and son. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even the person who had once been like you.

“I hope so.” You lied through your smile, gently squeezing her wrist in affirmation. Ever since you had stopped crying, it had become easier to lie. 

The sliding glass door off of the kitchen slid open with a click, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting into the kitchen. Jungkook’s father stood in the doorframe, peering into the kitchen and settling his gaze on you and his wife. He fixed you with a stern look, the look in his eyes practically freezing you to your spot like a deer in headlights. 

The only ones you were fooling were Jungkook and his mother. That much was obvious. 

“Baby!” Jungkook called, his bunny smile and doe eyes catching your attention from behind his father's shoulder where he was standing on the porch. 

He looked so relaxed compared to the first few weeks you had spent with him. Had you already lulled him into the belief that you were finally becoming compliant to his demands? You couldn’t be too sure. He was leaned back against the deck fencing, his elbows propped up behind him on the top of the fence. His one leg was a little stretched out in front of the other one as he looked at you, the golden cast of the setting sun bathing his lithe form. He looked like any other normal guy on vacation at the lake: a pair of ripped jeans tucked into thick boots and an open flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes lingered over the tattoos that decorated his arm, he really would have been any girl’s dream guy. It was a shame that he had to warp that into a nightmare.

Jungkook’s smile widened eagerly as he motioned for you to join him. Outside. 

Your heart began to flutter in your chest, it felt like the wings of a hummingbird thrumming in anticipation as the latch of its cage was lifted. You tried your best to calm yourself, you remembered what happened the last time you had fled into the woods, it had only taken mere moments for him to find you once again. You had not a doubt in your mind that Jungkook knew these forests better than anyone. You couldn’t run, not just yet. You hadn’t fooled everyone. You were sure that a better opportunity would arise. 

You took a calming breath and quickly dried your hands off before approaching the door. Jungkook’s father remained in the doorframe, his presence casting a shadow over you. He scared you far more than Jungkook did, and for the first time in your life you were willing to run into the arms of your captor if it meant he would keep you out of the way of his father’s wrath. That was the one thing you were sure of when it came down to it - Jungkook would protect you if he was in love with you like he claimed to be.

Your head was bowed low, your eyes fixed to your bare feet and the tile beneath them. You looked like a rabbit - you remained still like it would stop the curious predator from approaching. 

“Don’t try anything if you know what’s good for you.” He whispered lowly, his voice was gravelly and deep in his chest. The smell of smoke wafted under your nose as he stepped to the side, allowing you access to the deck. You flinched from his sudden movement before hurriedly rushing past him and outside. 

The fleeting sun felt so good against your skin, your chest heaved as you took in a deep inhale of the fresh air. It felt like layers of clothes and weights had been removed from your body and the oppressive weight of Jungkook’s father’s stare was confined to the inside of the lake house. This was the freest you had felt in weeks, or what had most likely turned into months. Time was escaping you faster and faster every day.

You jolted in surprise, your eyes fluttering open as Jungkook’s fingers grazed the smooth skin of your hand. You hadn’t heard him approach in your moment of euphoria. He looked down at you with a gentle smile and a gleam to his chocolate brown eyes. He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is. The last thing you wanted was to fall victim to Stockholm syndrome. And you knew you weren’t, he still made you uncomfortable and he had done awful things to you. Thoughts like those could override any one of his sweet, innocent looks. For now. If you didn’t act faster, time would grasp you in it’s clutches. 

Jungkook raised his hand to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking the flesh of your cheek as his other hand came to rest on your waist. He looked at you like you were the center of the universe, like nothing else mattered to him anymore. His touch was warm but his gaze was uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to look at you like that, like he was in love with you. Not after everything he had done. 

But you also couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that understood him. His father was fucking horrible and he had you, his wife, and his son all under his thumb. Jungkook and his mother were captives just as much as you were. That was the only sympathy you had ever felt for him.

Jungkook’s eyes had slid shut, his large hand encircling your wrist and raising your open palm to his lips to press a light kiss to the center of your hand. That was something he had started doing, but you never dared to ask him about it. You had assumed it was his way of keeping himself together, like he was taking a small hit instead of drowning himself in ecstacy. It was like he was pacing himself with you.

“Walk with me?” He whispered, his eyes slid closed as he breathed in your scent, the two of you encompassed by the light of the setting sun. 

“Okay.” You answered softly, trying to keep your legs cemented to where they were before they took flight and had you fleeing the lake house once again. 

Jungkook smiled at you again, his fingers hastily lacing yours with his own. His tight grip would be enough to keep you grounded for now. 

He led you down the steps until your feet met the soft grass once more. The cuts to your feet had healed and the feeling of the grass between your toes was soothing and comforting. Jungkook’s grip was loosening and  allowing him to gently tug you in the direction of the lake. You had only seen it from the windows of the house and just barely when it was illuminated by the moon that night you had tried to flee for the first time. You pushed down the thoughts of escape as your pace began to match his, your hands hanging between the two of you and swaying gently as you approached the little beach at the edge of the large, blue lake.

Your eyebrows began to knit together in confusion as you caught sight of the full stretch of the beach. There looked to be a little porch that began on the grass and stretched over the sandy beach. It had a wooden terrace stretching overtop decorated with fairy lights and was exposed to the sky above. You could see there was a thin air mattress set on top of the deck area covered in various pillows and blankets with a cooler set aside. It was insanely intimate and bordered on romantic. Had he set this up for the two of you?

You shivered in discomfort, unsure of what to do. Maybe you should suggest walking down by the water, you really didn’t want to go over to that “love nest.”

“Arms out.” Jungkook suddenly said, sliding in front of you. You looked at him in confusion until he set his hands on your arms and raised them up by your sides. He wordlessly slid the flannel off his shoulders and began to help you slip the sleeves onto your bare arms. He thought you were cold again. At least you could use that as an excuse during your ploy.

The shirt was big on you which was no surprise at this point. All of his clothes were baggy on you, most of them were baggy on him too. You looked like a child who had gotten into their parents closet. But the look in Jungkook’s eyes spoke volumes. It was a possessive thing, he liked seeing you in his clothes, he liked it when his scent lingered on you. He liked that he had you where he wanted you. Little did he know, you had him where you wanted him as well. 

Once he was done fixing his shirt around you he smoothed the collar down and sent a smile your way. “Come on.”

Jungkook tried to walk forward, your grip on his hand stopping him short. He pivoted on his heel, the sand kicking up slightly. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your lower lip as your eyes focused on the sight of a little crab crawling quickly across the surface of the sand. “Can we go over there?” You asked, jerking your head in the direction of the lake. 

Jungkook turned, his dark eyes settling on the waves rushing over the shallow drop off of sand. “Hm, not today. It’s pretty cold, I don’t want you to get sick sweetheart.”

“I won't,” You tried once more, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“We’ll go tomorrow.” He cut you off, his eyes boring into your own. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that this wasn’t up for debate. If he wanted to do something that badly, he was going to do it. He gave your hand a firm tug and pulled you into him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders and tuck you into his side.

You didn’t look at him as you walked, your eyes fixed to the sight of your toes turning over the sand as you walked. But you could feel his stare burning into the side of your head like it always was. Every time you thought just maybe he couldn’t be that bad, he reminded you quickly of what your situation was like. He has the final say in everything, whether he agreed or disagreed with you. 

The two of you stepped up onto the little wooden terrace, Jungkook taking a seat on the mattress and pulling you down in between his legs allowing your back to lean up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and set his chin on the top of your head. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon of the lake casting an ethereal glow over the water. 

You were glad you didn’t miss this sight, you supposed. It was probably the most uplifting thing you had seen in a long while. It wouldn’t be long now before the sun disappeared and it would be dark across the lake. Already the lights strung up above you seemed to be growing stronger as the sun faded away. 

You could feel Jungkook’s hand coming up to play with your hair, his touch the most delicate it had ever been. It was so gentle that if you closed your eyes you could pretend it was just the wind ruffling your hair. He spoke your name softly, the hand that had occupied your tresses caressed the length of your arm and settled on the top of your hand. Your brows knitted together in confusion as you felt his other hand flip yours over and settle something in the center of your palm. It was smooth, cold, and metallic to the touch with hard edges. 

You dropped your chin and searched for whatever it was he had just given you. He laughed softly, cupping your palm shut so that you couldn’t see.

“Ask me.” He simply said, his eyes aglow with mischief.

“Let me see.” You said, trying to pry your fingers open beneath his hold. It was no use.

“Try again, maybe a little nicer this time.” He teased.

 You huffed in frustration, already over whatever he was up too. “Jungkook, give me back my hand, please.” You said, adding more emphasis than needed on the “please.”

He chuckled low in his chest and released his grip on your hand. Without thinking you uncurled your fingers and looked at what he had given you. On sight you felt a wave of nausea roll through your stomach, your heart dropping in your chest. 

Sitting delicately on the smooth skin of your palm was an engagement ring. 

You couldn’t move, you were frozen in absolute fear. The only thing you could feel was the violent thudding of your heart in your chest and the beginnings of a cold sweat on your neck. You had either played your part too well, or Jungkook was more than aware of what you had been doing. You couldn’t rule out his father either, he was just as likely as having a hand in this. 

“I’ve waited for ten years to ask you to marry me, and I can’t imagine a better time than now to finally ask you.”

You were spiralling, you could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming. Your vision was focusing and unfocusing, the sound of your rapid heartbeats pounding in your eardrums. Were you having a heart attack? It felt like you were having a heart attack. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your lungs were swelling and cutting off any oxygen that tried to slip into your mouth. 

But there was one thing you could focus on, he said ten years. That math didn’t make sense, when the two of you had first met in highschool and that was only four years ago. 

“Ten years?” You echoed, the panic clear in your voice. How many more secrets was he harboring?

He hummed in response, his slender fingers picking up the diamond embedded ring from your grasp. You hadn’t realized how tightly you had been holding it until he took it from you, the diamond had made little incisions in your palm that were running with specks of blood. 

“I first met you when we were freshmen, but I first saw you when we were little.” He reminisced, a far off look in his eyes as he toyed with the ring. “I just caught a glimpse of you, but that was enough. You were wearing a white sundress and the cutest little butterfly sandals. I remember I asked my mom if you were an angel. She told me no, but I told her that I was going to marry you anyways because you were so pretty. And I kept my promise, didn’t I? 

You could feel yourself fading faster than the sun, you were so confused and panicked your body was on the brink of shutting down. You could feel the burn of bile rising up your throat as he lifted your left hand and gently slid the ring down your ring finger.

“You don’t have to say yes, but you can’t say no.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “That’s how it works in my family.”

~~~~~~~

You don’t remember much of what happened before you passed out, but you did wake up wrapped in Jungkook’s arms in his bed under the blankets. And that goddamn ring was still on your finger. And if things weren’t already bad enough, then they were bound to get worse. You were getting “married” in only a few days. 

To say that was jarring didn’t even cover half of what you were feeling. Not only was Jungkook trying to keep you bound to him in every way possible, but it was going to happen and fast. You tried to calm yourself by remembering whatever ceremony you were going to go through would not be legally binding. You wouldn’t actually be married in the eyes of the law. The two of you would have to get a marriage license and have it approved with witnesses, and there was no way you wouldn’t get help if you were dragged to a courthouse. Jungkook was persistant but he wasn’t stupid. This would be purely symbolic, and nothing more. But that thought did not drive away your stress or the butterflies in your stomach. 

And of course your short days full of trying on various dresses and hairstyles did not help one bit. Jungkook’s mom was excited, her face aglow with pure happiness as she chose dresses on your behalf and made even more decisions regarding  the ceremony on your behalf. Apparently, that was tradition. The “outsider” was rarely involved in situations like these, the mother in law and the prospective spouse took care of everything. You were too sick to your stomach to do anything, no matter what you said you knew that Jungkook wouldn’t listen to you. He had waited ten years to propose he said, there was nothing that would stop him from finally getting what he wanted. And once the two of you were “married” you were out of excuses to deny his advances. You were so fucked. 

Maybe you should have ran into the woods again when he had taken you out of the house. You should have just thrown caution to the wind and tried again. No, Jungkook would have caught you. You knew that. Maybe it would have been better to lay yourself in the lake and float away into nothingness. But you knew, no matter what you did or where you went Jungkook would follow you to the ends of the earth. He was inescapable, and the thought of that left you with an intense feeling of claustrophobia. Much like the prey you were, he would hunt you down and corner you with no possibilities of escape before going in for the kill. 

It still wasn’t time to run yet, you had convinced yourself of that. Now really would be the worst time to flee with the influx of members of Jungkook’s family arriving for the “wedding” that was to take place. Just the thought of that word had your stomach churning in unease.

His family was much larger than you expected and, to your horror, they all were just like him. Every single one of them knew about your predicament, and in fact amongst them were people like you who had been dragged into this life. Amongst the supposed wedding party were kidnappers and victims who were all coming to celebrate another successful hunt and capture of a prize. 

It only took five days to gather everyone and everything for the ceremony. It had all been rushed in order to get you to this point where you were once again in the room you had first woken in when Jungkook had taken you. Or, as his mother liked to call it, the bridal suite. The room itself hadn’t changed though, the walls were still that off white color, the barred windows still surrounded my lacy, gauze curtains, and the bedspread was still baby pink, white, and frilly. The only difference was the wedding gown hanging from a hook on the bedroom door.

You ran your fingers through your freshly washed hair, knotting the tresses in your hold and tugging in anxiety. Your leg was bouncing rapidly, how had it gotten to this point? How were you supposed to go out there and do this? You couldn’t. Not when you were about to be surrounded by kidnappers and their pets kept closely to their side. 

A knock to the door had you rocking back in surprise, your head jerking up to see who was there. The door remained shut and silence followed suit. You looked on in curiosity until a voice called your name through the door. 

“Are you decent, sweetheart?” It was Mrs. Jeon. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice cracking. The shower you had just taken wasn’t enough to hide all of the crying you had been doing all morning. But at least you didn’t have to see Jungkook, that was one upside. He refused to come near you until the ceremony, he was a firm believer that it was bad luck to see you beforehand.

You were grateful. 

You heard the click of the lock being undone before you saw the door swing open and Mrs. Jeon pocket the key she held in her hand. She looked happy, far more excited than you had anticipated. She was already done up for the ceremony, a formal dress laid over her figure and her hair twisted into an updo. She was naturally pretty and you could see what resemblance she had to her son. It sent a chill down your spine.

Not much was said between the two of you as she ushered you over to the vanity, gently gripping the tops of your shoulders and guiding you down onto the stool. Her work was done quietly and delicately. And you were so out of it, you didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were dull and unfocused, staring into the mirror but not processing what you were seeing in the slightest. 

“Sweetheart, what I’m going to tell you will be very important so I need you to listen closely.” She hummed, her hands fluttering around your face as she began to lightly apply makeup. “Have you ever been to a wedding?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as she gently applied eyeshadow to your lids. “Yes.”

“Good, then you already know what to expect. But, there are going to be some changes.” She said, tilting your head back with a feather light touch. “During the ceremony, don’t say anything.”

“What?” You asked, your face tensing in confusion. You felt her hands gently tap your cheeks, a silent way of signaling you needed to relax the muscles of your face. 

“Jungkook will take care of everything, vows and all. You just need to be there as he does so.” She explained. That made sense in some twisted way. If no part of the ceremony involved you talking, then you couldn’t exactly say no. “The objections will be left out as well.”

How ironic. 

“Other than that, things will go exactly how you expect them too. As long as you do your part, everything will be just fine.” She smiled as you opened your eyes once more. 

You felt her hands lightly smoothe your freshly styled hair, a fond look gracing her kind features. You felt a strange connection to her, you supposed it had to do with your shared experiences. She was taking on the role of a twisted mentor, imparting some of her “wisdom” onto you to help you as best she could.

The part you were most scared of came next, the dress. You tried your best not to look at yourself as the chiffon and lace slid smoothly over your bare skin. It was cool to the touch, light and airy unlike most dresses you had seen brides wear. By all rights it was stunning, you only wished you didn’t have to wear it if it meant that you would be walking down the aisle towards a man you never dreamt of being yours.

You wore no veil, and for that you were thankful. You couldn’t stand the thought of Jungkook having to lift it from your face like you had seen done before time and time again. Instead, a halo of white carnations and fabric butterflies graced the crown of your head. They were real, their scent fresh and welcoming. A part of you ached at the thought of them withering away, their stems having been sliced apart. They were beautiful, but would only be that way for a fraction of time.

You seated yourself on the edge of the bed, your bare feet gently grazing the silk of the comforter. Your heart was pounding wildly, this was a different type of fear you had never felt before. It was the anxiety of having to provide a performance for all of Jungkook’s family and the knowledge that you couldn’t run. 

Mrs. Jeon knelt down to the floor, a soft groan falling from her painted lips as she felt the ache in her knees. She reached a slender arm out underneath the bed, retrieving a white box tied closed with a satin ribbon. You looked on in curiosity as she carefully untied the bow and set the ribbon on the mattress.

“I wore these, Jungkook’s grandmother wore them, and the women before her.” She explained as she tugged the lid of the box free.

Upon seeing what laid inside the box, tears immediately began to prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart pounding wildly against your ribcage. Your shaky hand came up to cup your mouth to stifle any cries that attempted to escape. Held between the soft hands of your captor’s mother was a set of leg cuffs, each cuff meant to be sealed around your ankles that were held together by a length of chain that would prevent you from taking the strides you would need to run. They were treating you like a prisoner. 

“I-I can’t put those on,” You choked, “Please, please don’t make me do it.” You sobbed, shuffling away from her as best you could. 

“Oh, sweetie.” She cooed, setting them back down into the box and bringing you into her motherly embrace. “It’s only for a short while, I promise they’ll be off by your first dance. And they’re not as heavy as they look and no one will see them under your dress.”

“I don’t want to.” You sniffled as her fingers gently tapped away the tears in an attempt to stop your makeup from running. 

“I know, neither did I.” She sighed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Jungkook thought you didn’t need them but my husband thought it would be for the best.”

You froze at what she said. His father wanted this. 

“He’s a man of tradition for sure.” She giggled, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to relax you. “It’ll be quicker than you think, trust me.”

There was no room for debate, you had learned that quickly with the Jeon family. They always got their way and never took no for an answer. You experienced that first hand. So, all you could do was close your eyes, clench your fists, and tense your jaw as she snapped the cold metal cuffs around each of your ankles. 

“See? Not so bad.” She hummed before taking your hand and helping you to stand. “Everyone is waiting on us, it’s best we don’t keep them waiting any longer.”

She guided you out of the room, the sound of the chain connecting your anklets dragging over the wood of the floor sent a cringe to your face. They were loud. From what you knew, the ceremony was to take place outside right in the fringe of the forest. At least there would be grass and maybe then they wouldn’t be as distracting or cacophonous as they were now. At least that was what you hoped, it was like if you pretended they weren’t there maybe they would actually disappear. 

You didn’t make it far before you felt that familiar, sharp glare digging into you. His father was already here. 

“Now, since your father won’t be able to give you away we’re going to. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Jeon smiled, a sharp contrast to the stoic face of her husband. 

The thought of having to wrap your arm around his own nauseated you more than anything. Being with Jungkook was like heaven compared to his father. You feared his hold and gaze to the point that you craved Jungkook’s touch. Anything was better than having to be that close to a man so evil. 

You didn’t respond, fear having paralyzed your throat. It didn’t matter what you said, it was going to happen anyways. That much you knew to be true. 

The three of you linked arms, you in the middle of the parents of your kidnapper. Mrs. Jeon held your left arm gently, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your forearm. Mr. Jeon gripped you tightly, his hold unrelenting and harboring a warning. You wouldn’t be surprised if once he released you his fingerprints would be left behind as purple marks to your skin. 

As the three of you began to walk and exit the lake house, your inescapability became far more apparent. You could see the large crowd of people waiting for you, their eyes burning into you. From the large group, everyone was lining the aisle with their arms linked like they were creating a chain of people in preparation for you. With a horrifying realization you came to understand what they were doing. They were forming a wall on either side of you, creating a tunnel to walk through that would prevent you from escaping. 

They had planned everything out perfectly, years of trial and error and countless “weddings” allowing them to perfect their formula. They knew what they were doing and had no intention of letting you go. They were all sick every single one of them. 

And what was most likely the most upsetting sight was the children in the group, even they  

joined in on the human paper chain. They were little blank slates, perfect models that were trained from day one on what their way of life would be. You couldn’t help but see Jungkook reflected in their gaze. In your mind you could picture him as a small boy, large brown doe eyes watching a bound bride floating down the aisle in her white dress. It was no wonder he was so fucked up, and evidently those children would grow up just like he did. 

This was the first time you thought about fixing Jungkook, as you were walking through the tunnel of people, white petals crushing beneath your feet, and the drag of the chain between your legs like a snake slithering through grass. This was the first time you had even considered that to be a possibility. 

Your head lifted as the thought entered your mind, your gaze flicking around until it settled on him at the end of the aisle under an arch of moss and carnations. He was dressed nicely, but not in a tux like many grooms had been. He wore dress pants, held up by a set of suspenders over his shoulders. The top few buttons of his shirt had been left undone and exposed some of the smooth, tan flesh hiding beneath the fabric. He had also rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, his arm of tattoos proudly on display. He looked relaxed despite the excited smile that lit up his face and the gleam of adoration in those dark eyes. Even you couldn’t deny how attractive he looked like that.

A firm squeeze to your arm had your teeth sinking into your lip as the three of you ceased walking, Jungkook mere steps away from you. This was the first time you wanted to run towards him instead of away from him because it meant you would be able to escape his father. 

“Behave.” His father whispered just beside your ear, his voice deep in his chest and laced with warning. 

Without another word, his hand slipped down your wrist and guided your hand into his sons. And just like that, he and his wife turned and took their seat. And you could finally breathe again. For now. 

Jungkook was smiling at you, that familiar bunny like grin gracing his lips. His hands cradled your own, holding them between the two of you. You were sure he thought all of his dreams were coming true. He tense his fingers, giving your hands a firm squeeze of excitement. You had never seen him happier.

You could see an older gentleman beneath the makeshift altar, you assumed he was there to “officiate” the proceedings. You couldn’t help but zone out, the sight before you was distracting. The makeshift wedding his family had created would have been something out of a dream had this all been voluntary on your part. Forest weddings had always appeared to be so beautiful, and now that you were here you couldn’t help but agree. Strands of green moss formed a canopy above the wedding party, delicate vines of white flowers hanging from above and all around you. The aisle you had walked down had been made of moss, grass, ferns, and flat stones littered with white flowers and petals. 

It was absolutely breathtaking, and you knew once the sun went down and the fairy lights flickered to life it would be even more stunning. 

You were suddenly snapped out of your daze as you felt Jungkook's hand cup the side of your face before leaning down to you and pressing his lips tightly to your own. 

You had missed the entire thing. 

You could vaguely hear the cheers of his family behind you as he held you close, kissing you surprisingly hard in front of his entire family. You could feel your stomach tightening in anxiety and your face flushing with heat in embarrassment. You felt him pull back for a moment, hot air brushing over your lips before he reconnected with you again, and again, and again until you grasped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him away. 

He smiled at you in satisfaction as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. He was showing off, letting everyone know that you were his and that there was nothing you could do about. 

Your heart was in your stomach, the dread piling up as you felt him tugging you back down the aisle. He giggled as you almost tripped, his strides too long for you to keep up with when your gate was impaired by the length of chain connecting your ankles. Without a word he turned and scooped you up in his arms, ironically carrying you bridal style back towards the lake house where the “reception” was to be held. 

You turned your head to look over his shoulder, your eyes widening as you watched his family rushing after the two of you in what could have very well been a stampede. Your eyes lingered on a few of the people coming after you, it wasn’t hard to see who was an “outsider” like you. They had that same hopeless hollowness to their eyes, their will having dried up a long time ago. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you caught sight of one woman. She walked quickly, trying to keep up with the man beside her as she adjusted the infant in her arms. She looked tired and depressed beneath her layer of makeup. You could see the strain of her smile smooth away when her eyes connected with yours. You could see the message she was sending you clear as day without saying a word. 

“I’m sorry.” 

~~~~~~~

The reception was the most normal part of the wedding and something you were more familiar with. The only change was instead of the garter removal, your leg cuffs were removed. There was a part of you that was glad you were spared the mortifying experience of watching Jungkook’s head disappear under the chiffon of your skirt and feeling his lips drag across the length of your leg as his teeth pulled the garter free from you. 

Although, the leg cuffs were just as horrible and embarrassing. You were certain if you didn’t calm yourself down you would be throwing up all over the pristine white dress you wore. You could visualize the pure horror that would spread across Mrs. Jeon’s face.

You were sure that that wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened though. But tonight you had been doing your very best to hide your disdain for everyone there, you still had a part to play regardless of the situation you had been put in. You didn’t have to look happy, you just had to hide your fear to the best of your ability. 

That was easier said than done. 

It was when Jungkook left you alone with his sister that your facade began to crumble away. 

“Jimin, Taehyung!” He yelled, his eyes lighting up as he darted away from the table you were seated at in excitement. You watched him race across the room to the two men he had called for, locking them into a tight embrace. 

Your legs twitched, the thought of fleeing always at the back of your mind. Now would be the worst time of all times, who wouldn’t be able to see the only one dressed all in white sprinting into the woods. The last thing you wanted to do was start a hunting trip.

The soft delicate call of your name reminded you that you were still in company. The empty seat that Jungkook once occupied has been filled by the slender form of his sister. She looked just like him, but softer and feminine. She had a gentle smile fixed to her lips that reminded you exactly of her mother. There was not a single bit of her father in her, genetic wise.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She grinned. “All of these years Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you and he only lets me meet you once you’re getting married, that little punk.”

You bit your lip before you could spit anything back. You could feel the blood leave your face as she spoke. It always disturbed you when you remembered for just how long Jungkook had been waiting for you, watching you, longing for you. 

“Hell, he was the first person I introduced to my boyfriend.” She said with a roll of her eyes, “I mean of course I couldn’t take him on my own, he was much too heavy for just me alone.”

Your heart stilled as you slowly turned your head to face her. “Too heavy?” You echoed, hoping she didn’t mean what you thought she did. 

“Mhmm, the first time I saw him was at the gym. He was just so much bigger than me I knew I couldn’t take him home on my own. So, I called Jungkook. He made things so much easier, he really is such a good brother to me.” She said with a fond smile, her eyes seeming to glaze as she reminisced. 

All this time, you had assumed it was only the men of the family that partook in the kidnappings. But no, it was anyone who was an “insider.” Anyone who was born into the family. That explained how Jungkook had made no mistakes when he took you, he had practice with someone much bigger than you were. You quickly reached for your glass of wine, chugging back as much of it as you could to calm yourself before you slipped into another attack. 

“He’s right over there,” She sighed, nodding in his direction. “Jackson and I have been together for about six months now, he’s a tough one to train that's for sure.”

You followed her gaze, your eyes settling on the man that stood mere inches away from her father. He was undeniably handsome, but you could still see the fear etched deep into his face as he stood next to Mr. Jeon. You were confused why he was still there, he was strong so he had to be capable of escape. In fact, you were sure he could take down Jungkook’s father quite easily. That was of course until you realized what his handicap was. You were confused for a moment, it looked like he was wearing a choker perhaps. But, upon further inspection you realized what it was. A collar. 

Jungkook’s sister hummed to herself, setting her clutch down on the table next to you before she undid it and pulled out a small remote. “It’s harder for women like us in this family. Subduing guys like Jackson isn’t easy. But one controlled shock works wonders.” She laughed, a sadistic smile curling into her mouth as she stroked the remote. 

So, that was the part of her father she inherited. 

You could see the horror on Jackson’s face as his dark eyes connected with the remote she held between her dainty fingers. Without her even saying a word he was rushing to her side in fear of her even thinking about pressing a single button on that remote.

You were light headed, the sudden realization of just how horrible this family was allowed the glass of wine to slip from your fingers, the dark red liquid spilling over some of the white carnations that rested in front of you decorating them in jagged, red stripes.

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice called to you, and for the first time that word was comforting to your ears. In comparison to his sister, you had lucked out when it came to the Jeon siblings.

You sent him a strained smile as you lifted the stem of the wine glass and set it back up right. Your gaze lingered on the stained carnations, a sour thought entering your mind as you realized their purity had been stained, and no amount of cleansing would ever get it back. 

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. Your wife and I are going to be best friends.” His sister smiled as her hand curled around Jackson’s.

The two of you looked at one another momentarily, and in his eyes you saw a mutual message. 

“Please, help me.” 

~~~~~~~

You didn’t know how much more you could take, that was for sure. Everyone there was beyond messed up and sent your heart racing just at the sight of them. You were relieved when the crowd began to drain, leaving only a few people loitering around as the night dragged on. 

You had tackled so much in one day, but you knew there was still more to come. 

As the last people headed to their cars, Jungkook’s mother grabbed you by your hand and led you into the house, leaving Jungkook and his father and his two friends outside.

You stumbled after her in confusion, shaken up by the pace she had set. She led you back into what had originally been your room and shut the door tightly behind the two of you. She leaned against it with a gentle smile to her face, but you could see something else in her eyes. She was concerned. 

“I wanted to give you your wedding present here.” She said softly, crossing the room to the dresser pushed up against the wall. 

“I don’t need any presents.” You replied, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip in stress as you thought of what was to come. You knew you couldn’t hold Jungkook back any longer now that you had run out of excuses.

“I think you’ll need this one.” She said, her voice cracking as she slid her hand behind the dresser and pulled something free. She hid the gift behind her back in both hands as she made her way back to you in complete silence. 

Without a word, she raised your hand palm facing the ceiling and set a container in your hand. On sight you immediately recognized what it was. 

It was birth control. 

“What?” You whispered in pure shock, popping it open to make sure it actually was what it appeared to be. 

You raised your head and your eyes connected with hers. She wore no smile like you had seen her with so many times. Her face looked tired and her eyes were clearer than you had ever seen them before. For a moment, she seemed normal. She seemed to be just like you. No words passed between the two of you, all you needed was to see the expression you had witnessed twice earlier that day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, help me.”

And now, “I understand.”

The four of you were all the same, people who were suffering and couldn’t escape. She understood better than anyone what you were going through, and she wasn’t as broken as she had originally let on. Some of the original her was still there, a soft ember of a fire that had been snuffed out years ago.

No words passed between the two of you, none needed to be.

~~~~~~~

You heard Jungkook enter before you saw him, your back facing him as you were settled on the edge of the bed. You could feel the bed dip as he climbed on, crawling over to you until his arms could wrap around your waist and his chin could rest on your shoulder. You could smell the wine on his breath as he chuckled.

“Hello, Mrs. Jeon.” He mumbled, pressing his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder with a hum.

A chill ran down your spine at his words, they were foreign to you, they just didn’t seem right because you knew them to be false. He raised his head, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw and turn your head to face him. His fingers lightly stroked the skin of your cheek as he leaned in uncomfortably close. You could tell he was buzzed, a lazy smile stretching across his face as his eyes traced every curve and detail of your face. He looked positively enamored. 

Without any warning he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own for a moment before pulling back for a breath and leaning in again, and again, and again. 

“I love you.” He whispered against the shape of your lips, his fingers gingerly stroking your cheek as his chest shook with each inhale. It seemed like he could never get used to the feeling of your lips, so warm, soft and wet. How could he not be intoxicated by you?

His tongue gently stroked your lower lip, a whine breaking free from his throat as you kept your lips together, refusing to let him in. Instead of growing frustrated, he let out a soft sigh and pressed another brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, laying a trail of kisses down your cheek and jaw before settling on your neck.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers twisting into his shirt as he began to leave hot, open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, low groans bubbling in his chest from the mere taste of your skin. You could tell how needy he was from the way he harshly sucked purple bruises into your neck, his tongue swiping over each fresh mark with a sweet moan at the end. 

“Love you so, so, so much.” He whispered, his fingers trailing behind your back to pluck at the tiny pearl buttons holding your dress together. You tensed up, but you didn’t push him away. He didn’t stop his assault on your neck as you felt each button springing free, the front of your dress becoming looser and looser with each motion. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips at one particularly harder suck to your throat causing Jungkook to shudder against you as he heard your light cry. He pressed his forehead against your own for a moment, collecting himself while his hands still tried to unloop the back of your dress.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you walking towards me, you looked so perfect, so beautiful. Just like an angel.” He said, his voice shaking as his lips trembled. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you like this, and it was worth the wait.” 

His fingers trailed up the exposed skin of your back, goosebumps raising in their wake. He gently traced the lace of your straps before pulling them down, shimming the delicate fabric free from your torso. His breath caught in chest at the first sight of your bare breasts, the cut of the dress in the back being too low to allow you to wear a bra. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, the tips of his fingers ever so lightly tracing the tops of your breasts. He was pacing himself for your sake, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep a hold of himself, especially with the ever present tightening of his pants at the back of his mind. 

He suddenly pressed his lips back to yours once again, this time more frantically and harder than before. His hands came up to your shoulders, pushing you back down into the mattress beneath you. He was breathing much heavier now, unwilling to part from your lips as he tried to roll the fabric of your dress down your hips without leaving you. 

He groaned in frustration against your mouth, pulling back to roughly pull the dress down your body and toss it over his shoulder into the recesses of the room. He sat on his knees, towering above you and staring down at you with a carnal look in his eyes. He hastily began removing his own shirt, his irritation growing as he struggled with each button in his haste.

With a final grunt, he pulled his shirt free and tossed it to join your discarded dress. You froze as your eyes trailed over his naked torso, your heart thundering as your eyes settled on his chest. A fresh clear wrap was sealed against his chest over his heart. You could feel your body tense up as you took in the new ink that had been etched into his skin. He had tattooed your name on his chest. 

Jungkook looked back at you in confusion, unsure as to what caused the look of pure fear to seep into the once passive and smooth features of your face. He followed your line of sight ending on the new piece he had.

 “Do you like it?” He suddenly smiled. 

“I got it as my gift to you. You’ll always be right here,” He said, interlacing your fingers once more and resting your joined hands on top of his heart. “I’ll always love you, my good girl.”

All you could do was clench your eyes shut, it was your only way of taking yourself out of this situation. You could feel his bare chest press against yours, his long fingers tracing over every curve of your body as he shook in excitement. How long he had waited for this moment. To have you in every way possible. 

“It’s alright, I know what to do.” He whispered as you jolted from the feeling of his hand grazing the hem of your underwear, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You shuddered as he slid them down your legs, another article of clothing that was meant to join the floor. You were tensed up tight, your legs clenched shut in anxiety as you felt his gaze burn into every feature of your naked body. 

“So perfect,” He hummed, “So beautiful.” He cooed, resting his head on your chest as he rubbed slow circles in your thigh, each stroke sending him closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. 

“Jungkook!” You cried as you felt him force your legs open in one strong pull. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied before quickly reaching down and stroking the length of your untouched cored. You shrieked at the unfamiliar feeling, clamping your legs closed around his intruding hand. 

“Come on, baby.” He said, coaxing your legs open. “I need to get you ready.”

All you could do was lean your head back into the pillows, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your jaw as he continued, his fingers ever so lightly coming up to rub firm circles into your clit. You choked a moan back, thighs trembling as you tried your best not to snap them shut once more. 

“So good for me,” He cooed, sucking hickies into the hollow of your collar bone as he pressed his fingers down harder, your hips jerking instinctively up towards the pressure. “So pretty, my wife. Mine.”

He was unrelenting, his tight grip on you sure to reappear as bruises tomorrow morning. He didn’t allow you to hide your desperate whines or shocked gasps from him as he continued to pleasure you, the feeling sending tingles straight from your core all throughout your body. As much as you didn’t want to be with Junhkook, you could admit you were happy he at least knew what a clit was and made this a lot less horrible for you. 

You winced at the feeling of his finger gently prodding at your entrance, a thin layer of wetness coating his finger as he pushed in. You jerked and tensed your muscles at the foreign feeling, trying to pull back and away. 

“Relax. I need to stretch you out.” He said firmly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around one of your sensitive nipples, your tight walls relaxing at the new feeling. And, without warning, he slipped his finger in and began to stroke deep inside you, parts that your own fingers would not be capable of reaching. 

“Fuck!” You cried, tossing your head back as he quickly found that part that made you feel incredibly hot.

“That’s my good girl, fuck.” He groaned into your blushing skin as he thrusted his finger in, grazing that spot that made a new wave of wetness come gushing out. 

“Jungkook!” You groaned, your hand coming between the two of you to lay limply at his chest as you twitched in pleasure. 

He groaned in response, sucking the hardened peak of your chest harder as he continued pumping his fingers, slowly pressing in a second. You whine at the stretch, shaking as you felt his hips begin rutting against your leg, his mouth popping free from you as a needy whimper leaves his throat. 

“I need you so bad, baby.” He whined into your skin, choked groans shaking his chest as he quickened the pace of his hips against your leg and the pace of his fingers strumming against your walls. 

He easily, and embarrassingly, slid his fingers free from your heat, a string of your desire following his retreating digits. Without saying anything he quickly brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck them clean with enthusiasm, his body shaking like he was in ecstasy just from the mere taste.  

“So fucking sweet.” He moaned, his hands frantically grasping the hem of his pants, shuffling them and his underwear down in one motion. 

You could feel the heat rising to your face at the sight of him, your eyes falling shut once more as your thighs fell closed. He was fucking huge and you didn’t think you could take him. That didn’t really matter now though, did it?

His hands slid down your hips, rubbing small circles in the hallows before he gripped each leg and forced them open and around his slender waist. You kept your eyes clenched shut as you felt him reach in between the two of you, the head of his length brushing against your slick entrance. You were tensing again, anxious for what was to come. You were sure it was going to hurt. You felt his hips push forward and the head of dick just barely slip in as you bared down in fear. 

A soft groan escaped him, his head dropping to your throat. “Baby, you gotta relax for me.”

You whined in response, your body still wound up tight. You could feel him sigh into your throat before his hand lightly caressed your leg and made its way back to your core, his fingers returning to rubbing those firm circles into your throbbing clit. Almost immediately, your walls began to flutter around nothing at the sensual touch, your lips parting as you trembled in pleasure.  And, before you knew it, he forced himself all the way in in one motion. A sharp cry left your mouth as you flung your arms around his neck, tears pricking in your eyes at the sudden flash of pain that invaded your senses. 

Jungkook was shaking above you, his eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy as he forced his hips to remain still. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard you could taste your own blood on your tongue. You groaned in discomfort, your cheeks feeling wet as a few tears escaped. You felt incredibly full, so full that it hurt. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing the tears streaked down your face he quickly tried to calm you. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.” He whispered, pressing kisses to each streak of tears. 

“Doing so well for me,” He cooed, his fingers quickly circling around your clit once more to work you through your discomfort with pleasure. “Such a good girl.”

As soon as he felt you begin to relax around him, your hips jerking up into his touch, he began to pull his hips back and slowly slide back in at a frustratingly slow pace. His jaw clenched as he kept himself under control, restraining himself from abandoning all restraint and just railing you like he wanted to.

But, once he felt your hips rolling up into his with that sweet whine of your voice he couldn’t help himself. Before you knew it, his hands were laced with your own and pinned down to the mattress, his pace quickening as higher, breathy moans left his chest, his lips leaving hot, wet, kisses to your neck before he rose his head and connected your lips again. 

You moaned into his mouth, surprising yourself at the sounds you were making. His tongue rolled over your lips and without restraint you parted your lips for him. A deep groan left his mouth as he curled his tongue against your own and pumped his length deep into you with a smooth pace. The only sounds filling the room were choked moans and the slap of skin against skin. 

You were already getting closer, the prepping he had done earlier bringing you to this point, the knot in your stomach tightening with each brush of the head of his dick against that spot deep inside you. Your legs tightened around his waist, your fingers gripping his own tightly as he filled you so good. Your walls were clamping down tightly around him, the feeling just far better than you had expected it to be. 

You could do this, you could use this to your advantage. 

One particularly hard thrust had you crying out against the wet, puffy flesh of his lips. You were sure tomorrow both of you would look like a wreck. Jungkook freed his hand from yours, returning to the soft bundle of nerves that begged for his touch. You cried out at the feeling of his length thrusting in and out of your wet core and his dexterous fingers rubbing firmly into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rambled, snapping into you harder and harder as he felt your warm walls begin to tremble around him. You were going to cum, he could tell. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Show me how good I was, cum all over my cock for me like the good girl I know you are.” He panted into the shell of ear, pressing down harder and fucking into your pliant body faster than before, drawing sharp cries of pleasure from you that you couldn’t keep in any longer.

“Cum for me, please cum for me.” He was practically begging you, you could feel his length twitch inside of you. He was on the edge just like you were, but he wanted you to let go before he did. 

And you did. With a loud cry your back arched, pressing your chest up into his own as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Pleasure shot straight from your core and all throughout every nerve of your body, your walls fluttering helplessly around him. You could feel his thrusts become less paced and more frantic, his eyes clenched shut as he chased his release. And the feeling of you tightening so painfully around him was enough to do him in. With a loud moan he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his hips working himself into you as he came in spurts, your body flinching at the unfamiliar feeling as you tried to catch your breath. 

He whined as he continued to come, filling you up with each pump of his cock. His hips were shuddering with each thrust until he finally fell limp against you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He mumbled, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your already marked up skin. He still hadn’t removed himself from you and you twitched still from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel his cum and his cock still inside you, like he was trying to stop any of it from dripping out. 

“I love you, baby.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next day you were incredibly sore and wrapped up in Jungkook’s embrace. You were sweating, you noticed. Even in his sleep his grip was unrelenting, strong, and inescapable. 

You had hoped after the wedding his parent’s would have finally left, but that was far from the truth. They were still there, and each week you waited for them to come and tell you and Jungkook that they were ready to go home. You wanted them to leave, but another part of you was still deeply worried for his mother. Her behavior had returned to what you knew, she smiled often, she gushed over her husband, and she coddled her son. There was no sight of the woman you had seen the night of your wedding. 

The only reminder you had of your encounter, was the birth control stashed safely behind the dresser in the room that was never used. You snuck in there every day at the same time to take them in secret.

When your period came a few short weeks after your wedding, Jungkook was visibly upset. He didn’t say anything but you knew what he was thinking. He was hoping the various times you had sex between the wedding and your period would have you fall pregnant. He pouted about it, but simply remarked that the two of you would have to try more. He took care of you, bringing you chocolate snacks, heating pads, and plenty of cuddling. Although you never asked for that last part.

You thought you were going to be safe, that this was the one thing you could get away with this time. It only took a few weeks for everything to fall apart.

You were in the shower when the shouting started. You paused for a moment, tilting your head in the direction of the bathroom door. It was a male who was shouting, but over the sound of the water you couldn’t tell who it was. It was the loud shattering that spurred you into action. In seconds you turned the water off and frantically dried your body, throwing on a hoodie and some sweatpants. 

You swung the door open and walked and quietly as you could down the hallway. The yelling was coming from the kitchen. You pressed yourself against the wall and peered into the room.

It was Jungkook’s father screaming at his mother. It looked like she had been making dinner, various pots settled on the stove as well as a kettle. There were ceramic shards littering the floor, you could only assume a plate had been thrown. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you are the only person in this house who could have done this!” He screamed, slamming down a container onto the counter causing his wife to flinch back in fear. 

It was your birth control. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out? It was a little strange that she was going in there every day at the same time wasn’t it?” He asked, his voice deathly calm. His wife didn’t respond, her gaze pinned to the floor. 

“Fucking answer me!” He screamed, whipping another plate at the wall right beside her head and shattering it into pieces. 

“It was strange.” She echoed, her eyes glazing over. 

“Don’t play games with me, I know damn well she didn’t get them, Jungkook didn’t, and neither did I. If you want your punishment to be easier than tell me the goddamn truth right now.” He snapped.

She was already gone, her mind somewhere else as he screamed at her. You couldn’t stop the torrent of tears from rushing down your face as you witnessed her shutting herself off. Years of toture had made her good at dissociating.

The first hit is what broke you. Without thinking you ran right in between the two of them, wrapping your arms around her as the two of you fell to the ground, cries of pain bursting from your mouth at each hit you endured. He was ruthless, his anger quickly being directed at you. Each punch and kick to your body bringing new blossoms of pain. You stayed firm, your body wrapping around hers to stop the torrent of attacks from reaching her. You could do it for her. 

You felt fingers weave into your hair, pulling you sharply to the ground and causing you to cry out. You struggled as he began to drag you away from Jungkook’s mother by your wet tresses, he was heading to the deck. You had no doubt in your mind he was going to take you outside, torture you, murder you, and dipose of you. 

“Jungkook!” You screamed, thrashing around desperately. “Jungkook! Help!”

You never called out to him for help, never. And that was why he came so quickly. The minute he entered the kitchen his demeanor completely flipped. His eyes settled on his mother, her body laid limp to the floor as she gazed off into nothing. And then he found you, your body being dragged and his father's hand knotted in your hair with marks littering your face. He suddenly reminded you of the Jungkook that took you the first night. His eyes were pitch black and the anger was bubbling just under the surface. 

Your head fell as his father released your hair and you quickly began to scoot back and away from him. You settled yourself in the corner, lifted Jungkook’s mother into your embrace and held her tight. 

As soon as the two of you were safe, he snapped. He grabbed his father by the neck and threw him to the ground, the two of them devolving into a writhing mass of punches and kicks. You could see instantly that Jungkook was going to win, there were no doubts in your mind about that. He had his father pinned quickly and was beating the ever loving shit out of him.

“How fucking dare you!” He was yelling, his face red as he repeatedly laid into him, each hit becoming more brutal than the one before. “How dare you hit my wife! My mother! Fuck you!” He screamed, letting out every ounce of rage he had been holding in. 

You could hear the kettle begin to whistle in the background, the pitch slowly rising as your pulse thrummed strongly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight before you, you didn’t know if Jungkook was going to be able to calm down. He was enraged. 

His father was laying still underneath him, his face bloodied and the only sign of him being alive the rise and fall of his chest. Jungkook finally stopped, sniffing as he rolled off of his father, his knuckles split and covered in blood. But he had stopped far too soon. His father suddenly lurched, dragging him to the ground and wrapping his hands tightly around his son’s throat. 

You watched in shock, Jungkook’s body squirming as he tried to escape, his eyes darting around to try and find you. And, for some reason you don’t exactly know, you reached onto the counter, wrapped your fingers around a knife and slid it across the floor into his waiting hand.  

You snapped your eyes shut as you began to hear the loud grunts of pain from his father each time the knife struck his body. You held Jungkook’s mother close, your hands covering her eyes so there would be no chance of her seeing. The kettle was whistling painfully loud, your heart beating violently as you listened to what was happening. 

And soon, silence fell over the room. You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook pushed the lifeless corpse of his father to the floor. He rolled over and looked at you, his face, neck, and hands coated in thick, wet, blood. He was shaking as he came down from his adrenaline high. He dropped the knife from his grip, tears suddenly pouring from his doe eyes as he crawled across the floor to you and his mother. 

Loud, pained sobs wracked his chest as he threw himself at you, crying into your neck as he held you tightly.The scent of blood was thick in the air, the sticky, crimson fluid staining your skin as he gripped you tightly to him. He was inconsolable, sobbing like a child as he refused to let you move. 

There was a corpse in the room, copious amounts of blood, Jungkook, you, and his mother. 

You raised your hand and gently began to stroke his hair, curling your arms around his shaking, blood soaked body. You lightly pressed a kiss to the top of his head in an attempt to soothe him, rocking him back and forth. 

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s okay.”

[rmnamjoons]

Taking Flight [KNJ Oneshot]

➳ summary: More than a decade after the alien invasion that wiped out most of the planet, you and Namjoon are both in the Pilot Cadet Corps, training for if the alien attackers ever come back. What begins as a playful rivalry between two overachievers develops into a deep friendship and emotional bond, but when the aliens suddenly return and you and Namjoon are separated, you find out just what you’re willing to do to get back to him.

➳ pairing: pilot!Namjoon x pilot!reader

➳ genre: smut, sci fi au, post apocalypse au, alien invasion au, rivals to friends to lovers

➳ word count: 15.2k

➳ read on ao3, link to my masterlist

➳ tags: smut, reunion sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, emotional loving sex, soft dom namjoon, dirty talk (no degradation), rivals to friends to lovers, sexually charged fight/sparring scene when they’re rivals, previously seemingly unrequited love/mutual pining, shower sex, multiple positions, namjoon is needy and so in love

➳ warnings: unnamed character death/death mention, blood mention, injury mention/vague description

➳ a/n: I know this is kind of a niche genre for smut fics; I primarily wrote this for myself, and I definitely had fun and like what I came up with! What’s the point of fanfiction anyway, if not to have fun? Also, this takes place over a few years, and I tried to portray how Namjoon was feral and angry when he was younger but is now a loving gentle giant. Enjoy!

I.

Everybody lost someone in the attacks that killed most of the planet. Friends. Family. Partners. You had lost everything and everyone, like most people who’d lived in the cities that no longer had names — what once had been centers of commerce, tourism, and civilization were now nothing more than craters, and with so few left who remembered them, what they’d once been were now lost to time.

You'd only survived by chance, really. You and your family had been in a tunnel leaving the city, on foot like everyone else, and when everything had turned to chaos, you’d gotten lost from your parents and sister. You still remembered the way people screamed and ran through the tunnel, their voices echoing harshly off the cement walls. You’d spotted someone hiding off to the side in a utility room in the tunnel, and when the blast hit the city center, that person had made you hide in the room too, their body shielding yours from the hellfire, melting around you.

You were five years old then. You were pretty sure your sister had been eight. You couldn’t remember what your parents or sister looked like, or your house, or where you’d gone to school, other than vague flashes and shapes of people who’d once been your whole world. All you’d had with you were the clothes on your back, and even those had been taken away once you’d gotten somewhere safe and been given something clean to change into.

After the ships fell and surviving aliens left, it had taken years to clear the rubble and start over. The attacks that changed and destroyed everything had also been a gift, or so they now preached, in which humanity was able to grow, learn, and become united. The religions and cults who now worshiped the alien attackers believed humanity had deserved extermination, but you liked the more academic approach to the alien race’s lessons: the technology humans had been able to reverse engineer from their fallen ships.

One of the many ways humanity had advanced in the last few years was flight technology. Planes were faster, turned sharper, could go farther, burned cleaner energy. The one thing everyone seemed to agree on was how important Earth’s planes had been in beating them, so that was where all the technology and progress was focused now.

You loved planes and flying, you always had, but the real reason you wanted to be a pilot, you held much closer to your chest: your entire life, you always felt like the attacks when you were young were just the beginning. Like an unhealthy obsession or open wound, it was all you could think about sometimes, what drove your every decision, what led you to the Pilot Cadet Corps. You wanted to be part of the team that took them down if they ever came back. You wanted to be ready.

You were eighteen when you’d joined the Corps. You’d jumped on that opportunity the first moment you were able, without so much as a second glance back at what you left behind. You’d been adopted fairly soon after the attacks, but your adopted parents never felt much like family.

The first full year of Corps was bootcamp. Bunk rooms were co-ed, and every moment of your lives was dictated down to the second. You woke up at six in the morning and ran laps around the track. You had as much free time as you earned between whenever you finished your laps and when breakfast started at seven: the faster you ran, the more free time you got.

Eight to noon was physical training. After lunch was different depending on the day: three days a week you had mental training for whatever field you were going into, mostly flight simulation for the pilots. Another day was more combat training, and the last was an alternate, for first aid, written tests, marksmanship, and other courses along those lines. After that you had more physical training, like sparring and hand-to-hand combat, then dinner, then free time. Lights out was strictly at ten-thirty every night, and then you’d start it all over again the next day.

Now, you stood in line with the other cadets training to be pilots, waiting to hear your class ranks. Every month, they would announce a ranking of all cadets, a score averaged in test results, simulator scores, and overall performance. The better you ranked, the better your placement once you graduated.

“Third place, Park. Eighty-nine point nine,” the sergeant read off, making a small boy a few rows away from you puff up his chest in pride. You weren’t sure why anyone would feel proud of not getting an A, but you pushed that thought away.

You swallowed hard, holding your breath. There were only two spots left, and if you’d scored higher than Park, that meant you got an A and were either in second or first place out of the whole class. You didn’t know everyone’s names yet, so you weren’t sure who you were competing with.

“Second place, Y/L/N. Ninety-five point two.”

You heard the impressed murmur of others in the class before all of them were silenced by a firm look from the sergeant. Your heart sank, your hands curling into tight fists. Second place? You’d been so sure before now that you were working harder than all the other cadets. You were smarter than them, faster, more focused. Who the fuck had beaten you?

“First place, Kim. Ninety-five point three.”

Your brow furrowed. You weren’t sure who this Kim was, but you set your jaw, becoming determined to learn everything about them so you could beat them. Whatever their weaknesses were, you’d find them and exploit them.

You snuck a glance around you, trying to figure out who Kim was, and nearly jumped out of your skin when the tall boy next to you made eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow in the most smug, cocky, asshole-ish look you’d ever seen. That one singular eyebrow quirk, the corner of his lip curling up barely noticeably, all of it made you want to seethe and strangle him.

You’d noticed this man before, but had never thought much of him. He was taller than all the other men, but he hadn’t come off as particularly smart or extraordinary. This guy was the one who’d beaten you?

Now that you looked at him, you noticed he was definitely very muscular. Had he beaten your score through his strength? You could work harder at weight lifting and beat him. Were his test scores perfect? You could make yourself study even more.

Whatever it was that made him first place, you’d find out and beat him.

II.

In the following weeks, you began to wonder how you’d ever missed Kim Namjoon.

You and Namjoon both worked harder than everyone else. You both trained longer, started earlier in the morning and kept going until you were the last ones left. You both pushed yourselves harder than all of your other classmates, academically and physically. Before he was placed first in the class, you hadn’t even noticed him, but now he was the bane of your existence, and you existed only to beat him and come out on top.

You were faster and more agile, but Namjoon was by far stronger. You almost wanted to dispute the scoring system; what use was strength for a pilot? You weren’t soldiers. He needed fast reflexes and precision, not fighting skills or the ability to deadlift two hundred pounds. Was he planning on picking up planes and throwing them at the alien ships? It was so stupid.

The second month of bootcamp, you were the top of the class, and Namjoon was second place now. You smiled smugly to yourself and kept your eyes focused forward, staying perfectly at attention like the other cadets, but you could feel his eyes on you and almost sense his focused anger, that same emotion you’d felt when he’d first beaten you.

After the ranking announcements, you went to combat training in the gym, but your instructor called out both your name and Namjoon’s before you could even get started.

“I want the two of you to spar,” the instructor said as the two of you ran up. “No rules, just fighting. You can use boxing, wrestling, martial arts, whatever you want — just don’t kill each other.”

You narrowed your eyes at Namjoon, almost expecting him to refuse to fight you, for being a girl. Besides occasional glares, the two of you had never so much as said a word to each other, but you figured smug alpha male assholes were all the same.

But instead, Namjoon smiled and said, “All right.” He almost seemed eager to get in the ring and teach you a lesson.

Now, you eyed him from across the ring, how he was watching you with a smug little smirk as he wrapped his knuckles.

“To win, pin the other person’s back to the mat for five full seconds,” your instructor said carefully. “Their back has to fully touch the ground, not just shoulders. They don’t have to be conscious to be pinned.”

You and Namjoon made eye contact at that.

“Whoever wins doesn’t have to run laps next week. Loser runs double laps before eating. You both ready?”

You and Namjoon ended up drawing a crowd of spectators.

The moment the instructor said start, you ran, jumped, and wrapped your legs around his head, twisting and throwing him to the ground so that he was on his back and you stood over his head, smirking down at his stupid surprised face.

He’d hit the mat hard, the breath completely knocked out of him. A few people in the crowd murmured quietly to themselves and quietly asked each other if the fight was already over. You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself feel proud for a split second as you glanced at the spectators, but before you could register what was happening, Namjoon grabbed you by both your legs, making you twist and fall hard on your back, too.

You tried to crawl away from him, but he just pulled you under him by your legs, climbing on top of you and trying to hold you down with his hands. You arched your back as high as you could, touching the mat only with your shoulders and ass as Namjoon fought to grab your wrists. He was on top of you, straddling your abdomen and trying to keep you down without actually touching your chest, and you watched him bite his lip and heard him growl as he focused on not getting hit while you thrashed beneath him.

You brought your leg up and kneed his kidney as hard as you could, making him groan before moving back to pin your legs down too. You could now easily keep your back fully off the mat, but he was straddling you much lower now, bending over you and still trying to grab your arms. This close, you could smell him, his sweat and masculine scent mixed with the cheap soap you all were given, and you had to push aside the fact you kind of liked the way he smelled.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath. You watched Namjoon as he glanced down at your breasts, before his eyes snapped back up at your face, his eyes wide as if he were surprised he’d let himself look.

“Having fun?” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Tons,” he growled, finally catching one of your hands and pinning it down by your wrist.

You hooked your leg up as far as you could, wrapping it around him and using his close proximity to your advantage. This seemed to catch Namjoon very off guard, and you felt more than heard him make a noise in surprise as you essentially embraced him, not giving him any space to move or do anything as you pulled your hand free and wrapped all your limbs around him, hanging off of him like a leach.

Namjoon sat back on his knees, and you held onto him, your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, waiting for your moment to use his weight against him and throw him on his back. He was squirming and wearing himself out, while you just squeezed him, hard enough you heard something in him crack.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, trying to pry you off of him. Before you could answer, he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head backwards, making you gasp and cry out. He started to force you off by getting his hands between your bodies, but you surprised him, grabbing his throat with both hands and squeezing.

Namjoon forcefully brought his hands down on your arms, bending them so that you let go of his neck, and now you were much closer to his face, nearly nose to nose as he still sat there on his knees with you hanging off of him. He held your wrists with both hands now as you tried to struggle free from him, and when you realized you couldn’t, you twisted one wrist, bringing his hand up to your mouth and biting down as hard as you could on the meat of his thumb.

He yelped and let go of you, but before you could use the moment to your advantage, he grabbed you and pushed you off of him, throwing you down away from him while he scrambled back and looked at his hand.

Your body bounced as you hit the mat, rolling a few times until you slammed against the edge of the ring. Namjoon was back on you before you could react, and you felt him behind you, trying to roll you over so he could pin you down on your back again. You brought your head back hard and connected with his nose, making him jump back again.

When you looked back at him, Namjoon was standing across the ring, holding his nose and glaring at you as you jumped to your feet too.

You circled each other for a moment, both closely watching the other’s every move like prey.

His nose was bleeding heavily, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat.  You were pretty sure you had a bruised rib from him throwing you, your lungs burning from exertion from the fight. Everyone who’d been in the gym was now watching, none of them speaking as the two of you circled each other.

You ran at each other at the same time, Namjoon throwing a swing that you easily ducked. While his momentum was off, you punched him hard in the stomach, making him bend over in pain.

He was being sloppy, maybe distracted from his pain and anger, or maybe he was just more of a big clumsy oaf who relied on strength alone than you’d thought. You knew he was smart based on his test scores, but none of that appeared to translate to agility or finesse. He was fighting clumsy and angry, but you only felt more focused now, catching yourself smiling as you almost enjoyed yourself.

When you tried to strike him again, moving to hit your elbow between his shoulders while he was bent over, he turned and reached up, grabbing your neck with both hands. You broke his hold easily, and used that moment to bring your hand up and smack his injured nose.

Namjoon groaned in pain, holding his nose again. You grabbed his free hand, twisting it until he turned around and fell to his knees, yelling in pain, his arm bent painfully behind his back. You now stood behind him, Namjoon unable to move unless he wanted you to break or dislocate his arm, you on your feet with him on his knees.

“Do you forfeit?” you said, pulling his arm up another inch and making him hiss in pain. You could see how much he was sweating and panting, and ignored the way it sent a shiver of lust through you.

“You play dirty,” he seethed. Just standing close to him, you could feel the way heat radiated off of him. You’d noticed before that he was a sweaty guy, but now he was shining with it.

“I seem to remember being told that there were no rules for this fight,” you said, smiling proudly to yourself as you held the large man in place with one hand.

Instead of responding, Namjoon threw himself backwards into you, knocking you off your feet. You were on your back now and he was on his back on top of you, pinning you there. He had to have at least pulled his arm out of socket doing that move, and his body tensed from the pain, but he didn’t stop.

Namjoon pushed down with his shoulders as hard as he could, arching his back and standing up on his feet, bending his legs to put even more weight on just his shoulders to trap you there under him. You were crushed by him, barely able to breathe, let alone keep yourself fully off the mat.

He was so big and heavy, his shoulders wide enough to pin your arms down. You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment, what you hoped would give you an advantage again. You leaned in and bit down where his shoulder met his neck, the same side his arm was dislocated, and you bit down hard.

Namjoon yelped in surprise and pain, and you wrapped your arms around him in a chokehold so that when he tried to roll away, you went with him. He twisted in your arms until he was on top of you, facing you again, and this time you brought your knee up hard between his legs, his eyes closing as he groaned in agony.

You easily pushed him off and got on top of him, straddling his chest and pinning him down. Your knees pressed your full weight down on his biceps, including his injured arm, which made him groan in pain with every harsh exhale. He arched his back and tried to push you off of him, but he could barely move or reach you, his arms both pinned outward.

“Tired of getting your ass kicked yet?” you goaded, raising an eyebrow when Namjoon glared up at you. “How were you ever the top of our class? This is a little too easy.”

“Fuck you,” he growled, seething hard, blood all over his mouth and chin from his broken nose. His back still wasn’t technically on the ground though, so you needed to think of a way to make him stay down.

You were straddling his chest, so you moved your hips forward suddenly before throwing your whole body back, slamming yourself down hard and completely knocking the wind out of him. You simultaneously knocked him down so that his back was against the mat, and purposefully hit the back of your head against his crotch, which had to still be hurting from when you’d just kneed him a minute ago, so that he wouldn’t have the strength to get himself back up for a few seconds. You heard what you thought was a crack, which you really hoped wasn’t his crotch, before you heard and felt him groaning in pain.

The instructor counted out, and you won. You immediately jumped off of him and looked down at the damage.

Blood covered Namjoon’s chin, mouth, and neck, all from his nose wound, which you’d smacked more than once. He was bleeding from the bite on his neck, and his shoulder did not look right, pulled painfully out of socket and potentially broken. He rolled onto his side away from you and moaned, the hand of his arm that wasn’t dislocated over his crotch as he curled up in a ball on the ground.

“You all right?” you asked cautiously, stepping out of the way as the instructor rushed in to help him. Namjoon held up his middle finger to you, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily.

You snorted in amusement and went off to the locker room to shower.

That night, Namjoon limped into dinner.

You were sitting by yourself at a table near the back, reading a book written by a pilot from before the attacks. Namjoon sat down across from you, as if sitting together was something the two of you normally did.

His nose was badly bruised and taped up, definitely broken. Judging by the limp he’d come in with, you’d messed up something below deck. His arm seemed to have been popped back in socket, but you could see the bruising spreading over his collarbone under his t-shirt, and his arm was in a sling. He had bite marks on his neck and hand, and the one on his neck had needed stitches.

You tried not to smile to yourself.

“Y/L/N?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure of your name, like you two weren’t rivals constantly competing and you hadn’t kicked his ass a few hours ago.

“Kim,” you said, returning the formality.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you went back to eating, trying not to look over at him. He rested his non-injured hand on his stomach, and you wondered if you’d broken one of his ribs or if he was just hungry.

“You planning on eating?” you asked him after a moment.

Namjoon actually smiled, laughing to himself weakly.

“I don’t think I even have the energy to walk across the room to get food,” he murmured, his voice a little deeper than usual.

Without a word, you stood, walking straight across the room to get another plate of food. When you returned and placed it in front of him, he looked up at you with wide eyes, confused and shocked by your gesture.

“Do you need me to cut it up for you, too?” you teased, though glancing at his arm, you wondered if he’d actually need that.

Namjoon shook his head after a moment, glancing down at his plate.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. You saw a small, genuine smile on his lips, and you realized then for the very first time that he had dimples.

III.

The following week came, as did Namjoon’s punishment week for losing the sparring match. The first morning, you noticed him waking up earlier than everyone else to go start his laps, since he had to do double. You quickly got dressed and followed.

You ran up beside him as he slowly jogged around the track.

“What are you doing?” He looked over at you, furrowing his brow but not stopping.

“Running laps,” you answered flatly.

You ran the same number of laps as he did that morning, despite having won the right not to run this week. Namjoon, you learned, had a broken rib and pulled groin in addition to all the other stuff you’d done to him, and he’d been given an out and didn’t have to run any laps after all. Your instructor had told him that he needed to focus on healing and not accidentally hurt himself more. He didn’t have to do combat training or anything else physical until he was healed, but he still ran his punishment laps anyway, completely by choice, and so you ran them too, matching his pace the entire time, neither of you saying a word to the other.

Despite getting his ass kicked in the sparring match, the rest of the cadets viewed Namjoon as almost a superhero after that. They respected how well he’d taken a beating; he was the guy who kept fighting, even with half a dozen injuries and multiple broken bones. You were the only one who’d been able to best him, using just your speed to outwit him, and now the rest of the class respected you both even more. Namjoon was a nearly unstoppable tank, and you were the lithe fox that beat him.

As boot camp continued, you and Namjoon continued your quiet friendship, neither of you the overly gushy or warm type, both focused only on training. You studied together, and started helping each other instead of competing. Both of you only improved your scores and times.

Namjoon helped you with your physical training, helping you get stronger. You helped him with his marksmanship, precision, and speed. You regularly sparred and fought and pushed each other further. You studied together, fought together, ate together, did everything together.

The first year of Corps ended, and you entered the second year. This was more specialized, focused on specifically becoming a pilot with more time on flight training instead of physical and military training, which you still definitely had a lot of.

Your class was smaller now, but you still slept in a co-ed barrack. You and Namjoon picked spots next to each other this year.

One night during winter break, almost everyone else had gone home for the week, the two of you essentially having the base to yourselves. It was well past midnight and after lights out, but you and Namjoon laid in your beds talking quietly, both on your sides facing each other. You only had about a foot of space between your beds, and you could just barely make out his face in the dark.

Namjoon told you that he remembered the attacks, losing his family, everything. He’d had a sister too, and had lived in a suburb, not one of the cities. He didn’t explain further, but said that he remembered what happened to his family, and that he’d been found in the woods by himself weeks later. He’d only been seven years old at the time, and you wondered how the hell he’d made it on his own for so long.

You got the feeling he was used to being on his own, and didn’t let himself get attached to anything or anyone. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch him, put your hand on his shoulder and tell him he didn’t have to be alone anymore. But instead you sighed, ignoring the way his sad eyes made your heart ache.

IV.

Your second year turned into your third, and you and Namjoon only became closer. You both planned to go on to a fourth year of training, even though it wasn’t required, as it would give you higher credentials and clearance when you finished. Both of you still strived to be perfect, after all.

Halfway through your third year together, you realized Namjoon was the closest thing you had to family. You both saw each other pretty much every moment of every day. You both didn’t leave the base for holidays, so the longest you’d been apart since first meeting was a few hours, at most.

You were constantly together, even when you didn’t need to be. You woke up early and ran laps, even though you were no longer required to — only first year cadets ran laps, but you both continued because… you didn’t know why, and you didn’t question it. You loved running with him.

That first year together, Namjoon had been stoic and quiet. He didn’t talk much, unless directly questioned, and even then he kept his answers as concise as possible. You weren’t exactly talkative, but when the two of you talked to each other alone, especially in the past few years, Namjoon began coming out of his shell. When he wasn’t guarded and quiet, he was warm and funny, almost loving in his own kind of way. You got the feeling he was naturally full of love, but had pushed that part of himself down in the years he’d spent alone and in shelters.

Now, you were giving Namjoon a haircut. His hair grew weirdly fast, and there were rules about keeping everything, including hair, perfectly in uniform. Men had to have very short hair and be clean-shaven, which meant Namjoon had to get a haircut basically every other week.

When it was warm you did this outside, but now it was winter and you were in the locker room. While you worked, you talked about upcoming tests and other little things. You kept catching Namjoon looking up at you as you stood in front of him, between his spread legs, and he seemed to be getting bolder, watching your face outright instead of just stealing glances.

“Close your eyes and tilt your head back,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact you were blushing and flustered. Namjoon listened without a word, and you let yourself look at him for just a second; your faces were close, even with him sitting and you standing, because of how tall he was. You’d been obsessed with his lips lately, finding yourself fantasizing about them at the most inopportune times, thinking about how soft and full they looked and wondering what they’d feel like against your own.

Before you could pull yourself from your thoughts and start on the front of his hair, the power suddenly cut out.

You let out a small gasp, but this wasn’t exactly surprising around here. The power went out often because of the testing they were doing with switching over completely to alien tech for larger power structures. Still, you’d gasped in surprise because you’d been so focused on Namjoon’s face, and now the two of you were alone together in a dark locker room.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

Of course you were okay; the lights had just gone off.

“Yeah,” you answered anyway. You moved your hands from over his head to his shoulders, feeling him in the dark.

“It’ll be back on in a second, we’re okay,” he said, his thumbs moving slightly, like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know,” you said, your voice sounding small. You weren’t afraid at all, but you didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.

The lights came back on then, and you looked down at him. Namjoon smiled up at you, dimples on full display, and it nearly took your breath away. He had a little piece of cut hair on his cheek, which you gently brushed away, and he wrinkled his nose at you, making your heart ache.

You finished giving him his haircut, and afterwards he pulled off his shirt and went over to one of the showers, to wash off the pieces of hair you’d cut. You gathered up the electric razor and your other belongings while you heard him undressing behind you, turning on the shower and humming happily to himself.

You stopped yourself from looking at him as you walked out of the room and went back to the barracks, refusing to let yourself think about him showering or the way he’d looked at you.

VI.

Your last year of training was mostly just the two of you working together and with various superior officers. You’d get promotions and rank changes after some time in the field, but you’d start out as Senior Airmen, and would probably both make Staff Sergeant within a few years of graduating. There were no wars or active duty anymore, but it meant you’d both be given leadership positions, if ever the need arose.

After graduation, you and Namjoon would both receive your assignments and placements. You’d both requested to be placed together, without requesting anything else. You could be sent anywhere in the world, given any position; you didn’t care where you ended up though, as long as you were with him.

Since it was your last year, you were both given proper rooms instead of barracks. The rooms were small and minimal, but your room was right across from Namjoon’s. You spent a lot of time in each other’s rooms, even sometimes sleeping over.

Now, you laid on Namjoon’s bed in his room, while he sat at the chair by his desk with his feet propped up on the end of his bed. He was playing with a stress ball, passing it back and forth between his hands. You’d finished all your testing and training, so you were both basically just resting until graduation, anticipating your placements. It was late at night, the rest of the base quiet and sleeping.

“Dream placement,” you said, turning your head and pointing at him. “Go.”

“Oh, man…” Namjoon rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Southern California.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What’s in Southern California, besides desert?”

“That’s the closest base to where the first ship went down. They’ve got the best tech out there, the best planes.”

“Okay, true,” you sighed. “But there’s nothing out there for miles. There’d be nothing to do.”

“What else is there, besides flying?” Namjoon threw the little ball he was playing with gently so it bounced off the wall beside you and landed on your stomach.

“I like flying and being able to see something besides sand, rock, and craters for hundreds of miles,” you said, tossing the ball back to him.

“You feel like you’re going faster if you don’t have anything to look at,” he said, catching the ball with one hand and tossing it behind him onto his desk.

“You also get lost easier,” you laughed, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Not if you’re a good navigator,” Namjoon laughed too, standing up and moving onto the bed with you. He wasn’t exactly tickling you, but he was touching your body and you were both giggling as he laid down beside you.

“If you want to feel like you’re going fast, then just go fast,” you said, your hands on his shoulders now as you grinned up at him. He was partially on top of you, partially beside you as he smiled down at you, his mouth so close to yours.

“I want to go even faster,” he said, but he stilled suddenly, looking down at you with wide eyes. He seemed to have suddenly realized the position the two of you were in, and he moved so that he was just beside you, laying on his side as you laid on your back.

You sighed. It was always like this — not that you were complaining, because you loved the relationship you already had with him. But lately, you’d get so close, almost kissing, almost embracing, almost something, and then he’d back off. You still loved the moments before, where you could forget that you were just friends and pretend you were something more, as much as it ended up hurting your heart in the long run.

Even now, you loved this. Namjoon propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you as you continued talking, a different topic now. Your mouths were only a few inches apart. It would be so easy for him to just lean down and kiss you, like you wanted him to so badly.

Namjoon’s hand that wasn’t supporting his head rested on your stomach. You put your hands there too, playing with him, feeling his long fingers and how big his hand was, and Namjoon let you, pretending not to notice.

You talked about graduation plans, life plans, little nothings that made each other sadly smile. Neither of you said it, but you both worried you wouldn’t be placed together.

“What’s your dream placement?” he asked you gently, his voice soft.

“You know, I don’t even care,” you said. Because it didn’t matter where they put you as long as you were with him, but you didn’t say that.

That night the two of you fell asleep like that, in that position. It wasn’t the first time.

VII.

When you woke up, you could feel Namjoon’s gentle breathing on your neck. You turned your head and looked at him, studying his expression in the early morning calm.

He was still on his side facing you, so now you were face-to-face, your foreheads and noses only a few inches apart. His hand still rested on your stomach, and you still held his hand there with both of your hands. You felt his fingers twitch a little in his sleep and wondered what he was dreaming about. His other arm was under the pillow now, and through it you could almost feel the swell of his bicep and warmth of his skin.

You only ever let yourself really look at him like this when he was sleeping, when the two of you had sleepovers in each other’s rooms. You studied the shape of his nose, the way his big, plush lips parted, the puffiness of his cheeks as he relaxed and breathed, every freckle and mole on his face that you wanted to kiss so badly. Cuddled up with him like this, you could feel how warm he was; Namjoon was a furnace of a man, and you’d gotten so used to sharing a bed with him the past few months, you now had to layer up and sleep with an extra blanket whenever you slept alone.

Namjoon sighed then, shifting a little in his sleep. You quickly closed your eyes and turned your head back so you weren’t facing him directly, in case he opened his eyes.

You felt him moving, shifting so that his arm was hugging you instead of his hand just resting on you. His hand was now on your side, below your armpit, his thumb on the side of your breast. He sighed and seemed to fall back asleep, softly snoring again after a few moments.

You laid like that for a while, enjoying this feeling, knowing you’d never have this for real. You'd never wake up next to Namjoon in the context you wanted, but this was more than enough for you. You were so in love with him, but he didn’t see you the same way, so you’d enjoy waking up in his arms for as long as you could.

When Namjoon eventually woke up on his own, he seemed to slowly realize the position you were in, moving his hand down carefully to more platonic territory. You opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him, and were caught off guard by the way he was staring at you so openly, looking down at your mouth for a few moments before looking back at your eyes with an expression you couldn’t name.

“Y/N,” he murmured, so softly you could barely hear him, but you could feel the rumble of it in his chest. You didn’t say anything, both of you just looking at each other in the peaceful quiet stillness of early morning, the only noises both of your gentle breathing.

Namjoon moved his hand up to your shoulder, and then his hand was cupping your cheek, brushing your hair back from your face. The tips of your noses were almost touching, his warm breath on your lips. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against yours, your heart almost stopping in your chest from how close he was. He’s never done anything like this before, and you definitely were not going to stop him.

He turned his head slightly, your foreheads still connected as the tip of his nose skimmed along your cheek, by your nose. He brushed his lips against yours so lightly you could barely feel him, his eyes still closed. You could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek, and prayed he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was racing or how you nearly whimpered at his every touch.

Namjoon moved and brushed his barely parted lips against the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw. His hand on your cheek, he stroked your skin with his thumb slowly, touching you, feeling you. His leg moved up slowly, hooking over yours, and you spread your legs for him. You couldn’t even think straight right now, the only things your brain were processing were the touches and sensations Namjoon was giving you.

What the hell was he doing? The thought of him seeing you romantically, the same way you saw him, had seemed so impossible before now, but now, as he brushed his lips against your skin, you wondered if he’d been longing the same way you had.

Namjoon turned your head carefully, slightly away from him, so that you were looking directly up again. He kissed your cheek closer to him while he stroked the other, pressing gentle open-mouthed kisses down your face and neck as he slowly moved himself on top of you. You, matching his slow movements, wrapped your legs loosely around him and held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon kissed your skin as lightly as he could, feeling you anywhere you’d let him, and you were lost in him. He switched to your other side, kissing your collarbone and neck and jaw, and one of his hands moved up behind your head, tangling in your hair. Every movement was slow and deliberate and gentle.

You never would’ve guessed Namjoon was the gentle type, but now that this was happening, it made sense and you craved it. He closed his lips lightly against your earlobe and you gasped loudly, trying to arch up against him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your ear. “So soft, so perfect, my angel, my love.” His voice was so warm and deep, and you quietly whimpered, holding onto his shoulders even tighter. You felt like he could make you come just from this, just from his light touches and hearing his deep voice praise you. You'd wanted him so badly for years now, you’d dreamed about him, fantasized nonstop, and now here he was, and the tension was already building up for you.

He hadn’t even fully kissed your mouth yet. Namjoon pressed his lips against your cheek, caressing the other side of your face with his hand, just holding your body so close to his. You swore you could die right now and be fine with that.

An alarm suddenly blared, and both of your bodies stilled and tensed.

Namjoon jumped off of you and sat back on his legs, looking around the room like he was expecting to see what was happening written on the walls. You sat up too, looking around. Your legs were still spread, your brain still hazy from Namjoon’s kisses, and you looked at him as you saw him working through what was happening.

“Something’s wrong,” Namjoon said, quickly jumping up. He sat back down on the side of his bed long enough to put on his shoes. “Come on,” he said, pulling you up when he stood again.

You snapped yourself out of your lust-haze. The alarm was still going off, which meant something major was happening right now. It wasn’t just a test.

You left, quickly scampering across the hall to your own room so you could get dressed.

You and Namjoon met up in between your rooms a moment later, both in uniform, and ran down together to where the rest of the base had gathered, Namjoon taking your hand in his as you ran.

VIII.

It was another attack, like when you were young.

You all stood there at attention receiving orders, none of you looking anywhere except forward blankly. This was it, everything you had trained for, the exact reason you’d trained so hard. They were back.

You and Namjoon were both assigned as squadron leaders to two different units, Namjoon to Red One and you to Blue One. Those were two of the best, most elite units of fighter jets, but you looked over at him when you got your assignments. You weren’t together, so you wouldn’t know if he was okay until after it was all over.

You were all dismissed and had fifteen minutes to get to your planes and prepare for launch. You went straight to your plane, not stopping to talk to Namjoon. You knew you wouldn’t be able to leave him once you looked at him, so it was better to just pretend this morning hadn’t happened.

You were just starting to climb the ladder up to your plane when you heard his voice.

“Not saying goodbye?”

You froze in your tracks, but didn’t turn or look at him. You couldn’t make yourself say anything, instead just staring straight in front of you with your hands on the rungs of the ladder.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice much softer now as he walked over to you. The planes were close together so you were in tight quarters, and he stood right behind you, his hands not quite touching your sides.

“What?” you said, not looking back at him.

“Please don’t leave without saying goodbye,” he said. You'd never heard his voice like this. Quiet, pleading, loving. It was like this morning in bed, but more desperate, yearning, begging you to look at him.

You started to move up the ladder without turning around, and he put his hands on your hips, stopping you. He immediately let go, not wanting to trap you there.

You sighed and turned around to face him, only partially, still a step up on the ladder so you were just slightly taller than him. You reached back and held onto the ladder with one hand as you looked at him.

When you saw the expression on his face, it took your breath away. He looked almost tearful, sick with worry, trying to be stronger than how he obviously felt.

“Goodbye,” you said softly, bringing your free hand up to his cheek.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and tried to smile weakly. His hair was getting a little long, you noticed then for some reason. He was supposed to keep it short to stay in uniform, but now it looked long enough for you to run your fingers through.

Namjoon’s eyes were wide and innocent, searching your face. Around you, the base was chaotic and busy as other pilots ran to their planes and officers barked out orders and engines started up. The two of you just stood there in your quiet moment, both a lot less excited about your first mission than you’d thought you’d be, everything happening so much sooner then you’d both thought and on such a larger scale than you ever could have anticipated. You remembered almost wanting this when you were young, promising yourself that you’d be ready if they ever came back. Maybe the universe was punishing you; whenever you loved someone, the universe immediately sought to take it from you. Your family when you were young, and now Namjoon.

He looked like he wanted to kiss you or tell you something. He parted his lips and glanced at your mouth, his brow furrowing as he breathed, and he looked back up at your eyes, his expression so worried.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, smiling gently.

You turned and climbed up into your plane without another word.

V.

There had been twenty pilots in your squadron when you left, and four when you returned.

You didn’t really remember the aliens from when you were little, but you’d seen countless videos. You knew what they looked like, how they performed, what their technology was supposed to be like, what their weaknesses had been.

You saw so many planes go down. The alien ship had a different defense than last time, and the fight was only over when the alien ship suddenly left and moved on, seemingly just because it wanted to, not because the humans posed any kind of threat to it. When it left, it had taken out an entire city, just like last time. The town near the base had only recently gotten its infrastructure set up.

You and your three surviving pilots returned first out of all the other squadrons. You quickly climbed out of your plane and ran down to the hangar, asking about the other pilots still out there. You needed to know if Namjoon was okay.

Before you even got to the hangar, another alarm started blaring. A plane near you exploded, and you spun around, looking up at the sky.

There had to be over a hundred alien ships in the sky, all firing on the base and the planes.

“Get inside, now!” you yelled, pointing at the pilots from your squadron who’d ducked down near their planes. You knew the base had a bunker, and the number of people at the base now could easily survive down there long-term.

There was panic as people got down there as fast as they could, all climbing over each other and yelling. You stayed back where you could see the sky, ducking down in a safe spot and watching as long as you could. You only saw alien ships, none of your own.

You imagined Namjoon’s last seconds. If he hadn’t made it back to the base, there was no way he’d survive. The ships would find him. You could only see the planes you’d seen exploding earlier, hear the voices of the pilots in your squadron on your coms as their ships exploded. A cut-off shout, and then nothing.

You finally made yourself run down to the bunker. In the distance, you could hear the ships destroying every visible part of the base, every last truck and car and plane and tank exploding as the blasts hit them. The walls shook and lights flickered and dust fell from the ceiling as you made your way down the stairwell to the bunker.

Over the destruction above you, you could hear Namjoon’s voice that morning in his bed, the world frozen around you then, the only things that mattered his large, gentle hands, his slow, exploring mouth, and his soft voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’d breathed against your neck. You'd been able to feel his smile, the tip of his nose tracing your jaw, the warmth of his breath on your skin. You'd never felt safer than when you were laying in bed with him.

You pushed the door of the bunker shut behind you, your hands shaking and eyes welling up. You could not think about this; you had to push all of that aside for now. You had a job to do.

After about five minutes down in the bunker, the lights went out. The weak backup generator kicked on near-immediately, but now there was no connection to the outside world. If any pilots managed to survive this long, the base wouldn’t know about it or have any way of contacting them.

When you’d taken off, both you and Namjoon had been promoted to captains, to lead your squadrons. Once all of the remaining people at the base were down in the bunker and accounted for, you were promoted again, this time to major.

Almost everyone out of the thousand or so people on the base had gone out to fight. The only people who’d stayed behind were ground control officers, technicians, first years, civilians who worked on the base, and the top few people in charge. There were maybe a few hundred people down in the massive bunker now, and you ranked sixth in command out of all of them.

Namjoon would’ve been so jealous you outranked him, you thought with a small smile.

VI.

Four days passed with no news.

There was no service. There was no internet, radio, or any connection to the outside world.

You were itching to get out. There was no news from the outside world, but there also hadn’t been any explosions since the first day. The alien ships had to be gone by now. On the second day, you’d tried to suggest to the general that you could go up to the surface and see if an evacuation could be planned, but the general and other officers had all said that there was no need to evacuate, because there were plenty of supplies down here. They would continue to work on regaining communications with other bases, and nothing else immediately mattered until then.

Now, you were on your cot, staring at the ceiling above you. It was the middle of the night and just about everyone else was asleep. Most people slept on cots in what looked like an old gym, all lined up in long rows. Everyone had been given two changes of clothes, all gray jumpsuits. You felt like you were in prison.

The scratchy wool blanket was pulled up to your neck. You tried to imagine sharing the cot with Namjoon, the two of you squeezed onto the spot only meant for one and giggling when you just barely fit. You imagined him spooning you, kissing your neck and shoulder and holding you close to him. You imagined feeling his heartbeat in his chest. You imagined his face when his plane exploded.

It wasn’t fair. You’d literally just become something more than friends, maybe, kind of. Your relationship with Namjoon meant everything to you, and it had suddenly been changing in such amazing ways, and then he’d immediately been taken from you.

You refused to cry about this. You refused to even accept he was gone. There were ways he could’ve survived. There had to be. He could’ve flown low and ejected and hidden in the rubble of the city. Except he wasn’t a coward; you knew him, and you knew he was the type to win or die fighting. He could’ve led other survivors away from the city. Except there was no way these planes could’ve outrun the alien ships. They weren’t fast enough.

There had to be a way. You had to get up to the surface and find out. You had to find him.

VII.

After one week down in the bunker, you felt like you were going out of your mind.

You had a plan. You were going to go to the surface whether they let you or not. You were going to find Namjoon, or at least the remains of his plane. You were going to find him or find closure.

You needed climbing gear to get up the destroyed stairwell. You’d need to find rope and gear, a lot of water, and survival supplies. You began your plan, looking around for spare supplies nobody would notice was missing until you were gone. You knew where to find rope, but you had to figure out how to acquire and carry enough water. Plus you would need to bring medical supplies, in case Namjoon was injured. God, you could just imagine him, laying somewhere, bleeding out and barely conscious. You wondered if he’d thought of you, imagined you coming to save him.

You were seconds away from stealing rope from a supply closet when a short little man walked around the corner.

“Major?”

You froze in place. You weren’t in the room yet; you were innocent.

“Yes?” you said, smiling politely.

“The general wants to see you,” he said, and left without adding anything else.

Shit. How had they known? You hadn’t done anything yet, or told anyone or written anything down.

You made your way to the command center. Not much was going on there in the way of commanding anything, but it was where the higher ups — which now included you — met, and it was where they were attempting to reestablish communications with the outside world.

The room was busy with officers buzzing around. There were a lot of exposed wires hanging out of the walls. It looked like they were rebuilding a computer system circa 1970.

“Major,” the general said, motioning you over.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re the highest ranking field officer, so this goes to you first,” he said, handing you a manila folder. “We’ve established communication with a base a hundred and fifty miles from here, but only briefly. They said they have seven survivors from our base. They didn’t say who.” The general quickly added the last part when he saw your face light up at the mention of survivors.

You glanced down at the folder. Before you could speak, the general continued.

“We need someone — a pilot — to go up to the surface and see if any planes are still intact, and if so, fly to Walker Base. If there aren’t any planes left, we’ll probably have you try to find a car, or hike if you have to. We need to get our relay codes to that base, and once we do, we’ll have full communication with them again. You up for it?”

You looked up at the general, smiling.

VIII.

It took you about an hour to climb the staircase. Most of it was rubble and a lot of it involved throwing up a rope and securing it on something to climb the huge gaps where the stairs had fallen out, but you eventually got to the top, pushing aside debris to get yourself outside.

The base was gone. There was no way any planes survived this. Still, you walked out onto the strip, just in case.

Some of the piles of charred metal were still smoking. A few small fires were still going, most of them out in the lot, where jet fuel must still be feeding them. You tried to see if you could spot where your and Namjoon’s rooms used to be, but it was all just rubble, ash, and charred cinderblocks.

You walked down the landing strip, looking at the piles of scorched plane parts, blasted to nothing. Pieces of metal jutted up, a plane wing here, a part of engine there. Every pile you saw, you imagined seeing Namjoon’s body among them. You knew if he was dead, he wouldn’t be here, he’d be out in the city — but seeing all of the destroyed planes wasn’t helping.

You stopped in your tracks.

At the end of the landing strip, under a broken wing of a much larger plane, was the most beautiful F-15 Eagle you had ever seen.

You ran to it, climbing on it when you reached it and pushing aside the wing of the bigger plane until it clamored to the ground. You climbed into the cockpit, dropping your backpack with supplies and the relay codes into the little compartment, feeling nearly dizzy in euphoria. You prepped the jet for takeoff, everything going smoothly, and you imagined Namjoon’s face when you showed up at the base. He’d be so happy to see you, but so surprised, and when you told him that you got promoted to major–

You stopped for a moment, your smile falling as you stared blankly at your hands on the switches and dials.

You didn’t know if he was one of the survivors at the other base. You shouldn’t get your hopes up just to show up and find out he wasn’t one of the pilots who made it. For all you knew, you’d get there and one of the pilots from Namjoon’s squadron would tell you all about how he died.

You focused on the task in front of you. You were on a mission, first and foremost, to get the relay codes to the base. That was the important thing right now, not yourself or Namjoon.

You got the plane prepped and ready to go. The center of the runway was clear, since most of the planes had been gone.

F-15s were always your favorite.

IX.

You didn’t attract any alien attention while flying, thankfully. You got there in just over twenty minutes; around the fifteen minute mark, you slowed down and the base contacted you on your descent into their airspace. You had to identify yourself and state your intentions, but the base seemed completely willing to let anyone human land.

When you landed, a few people ran out and took care of your plane for you, as you were escorted inside. You handed over the relay codes and quickly asked if you could see the survivors from your base.

“Most of them were pretty shell-shocked when they got here, but they’re soldiers. They know how it is,” the officer escorting you said as the two of you walked. “How many survivors at your base?”

“Three hundred and forty-two,” you said flatly, staring straight in front of you as you walked. “We had four pilots including myself return, the rest were non-flight officers and civilians. No casualties on the ground, but the base was destroyed in an aerial attack shortly after we landed.”

“Yeah, we heard about that. That’s why we got your other pilots,” the guy said, motioning in front of him in the direction you were walking, assumedly at the surviving pilots. “They didn’t have anywhere to land and thought the base was gone, so they came here. All from different squadrons, but led by one captain.”

You perked up when you heard that. A captain had survived.

You really did try not to get your hopes up. Your base was huge; there were so many squadrons, only one captain surviving was not good news for Namjoon. Still, you were hopeful.

You were led to a barrack where a few pilots were sitting around together, all men looking bored out of their minds. You recognized Park from your training class, and a few others as well. You scanned their faces quickly, looking from person to person, desperately searching for him, frantic and anxious and despairing when you looked and didn’t see him–

“Y/N?” a voice said from behind you, and you spun around.

Namjoon had walked in behind you from the other direction; he looked like he’d just taken a shower, from the wet hair, clean clothes, and bag over his shoulder, which he dropped as he stared at you in disbelief.

Neither of you even said anything. You were only about ten feet apart already, but you immediately met in the middle, desperately grabbing at each other, hugging tightly. Your legs were up around his waist and he held you to him as he kissed all over your face. The room was spinning or maybe Namjoon was just spinning you around, you didn’t care, you just held onto him and tried to kiss him, one hand in his hair and the other arm around his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.

As much as you wanted and tried to kiss him, Namjoon was just too much; it was like he was trying to kiss every last millimeter of your face at least twice. He was holding you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t even care. His skin, his hair, his mouth, his kisses were all the most amazing things you’d ever felt. You were pressed chest-to-chest, arms wrapped around each other, and you could almost feel his heartbeat pumping along with your own.

Namjoon stopped kissing you long enough to nuzzle against you, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against yours, nearly animalistic.

“I missed you so much, my love,” he breathed. You swore his face was wet with tears, his cheek still pressed against your own. “I haven’t thought about anything other than you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you this whole time, I love you so much… god, fuck, when I thought I’d lost you…” He started kissing your cheek again desperately, his hand coming up to hold your other cheek and hold you in place.

“I missed you too,” you gasped, your voice small and high-pitched as you tried and failed to hold in your tears.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he kept repeating, not even stopping speaking as he kissed you, so some of his words were muffled.

“I love you, too, Joon,” you managed to say before he kissed your mouth, tilting his head to kiss you so deeply it took your breath away.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” somebody else in the room said then. “Do you guys want us to, like, leave or something?”

Namjoon stopped, catching his breath as you turned your head to look back at the six other pilots and the officer all awkwardly watching you.

“Uh, sorry,” you muttered, putting your feet back on the ground and turning around. Namjoon kept touching you, not taking his hands off you, even as you faced the others.

“I know you both outrank us, but get a room,” a different pilot laughed, his smile boxy and voice deep.

“You have a room, actually,” the officer that led you in said, perking up like that was his cue.

“We do?” Namjoon asked, confused. He stood behind you, hands on your hips, tall enough to see over your head.

“She does,” the officer gestured to you. “She’s a major. All superior officers class O4 and up get their own private room.”

“Major?” Namjoon said, tilting a little to look at your face. You smiled to yourself smugly.

“I can take you there now,” the officer said, motioning to the door behind him.

Namjoon stepped to the side and looked down at the ground shyly, glancing up at you and pouting. You wanted to roll your eyes; he actually thought you weren’t going to invite him to come with you.

“You too,” you said, holding out your hand for him.

Namjoon beamed, and quickly picked up his bag and jogged over to what must be his bed, grabbing the few belongings he had, and shuffled back over to your side, taking your hand and kissing you on the cheek before following along with you.

“Go get it, captain,” one of the pilots jeered at him, the others all snickering and wolf-whistling as Namjoon dropped your hand long enough to flip all the other pilots off while the officer led the two of you out and down the hallway.

As soon as the door was shut behind you in your room, the officer gone and the two of you alone, Namjoon dropped his belongings and picked you up again, your legs tight around him, the two of you kissing again. You felt your back against the cold metal of the old-fashioned blast door, one of Namjoon’s hands holding your face.

“How’d you get here?” he murmured against your neck after a moment, kissing your cheek between gasps. “They said the base was destroyed, no contact.”

“The attack happened right after I landed. Everyone got down in the bunker, no casualties on the ground,” you gasped, still a little short on breath. As you spoke, Namjoon kissed your neck, working his way up to your jaw. “They needed a pilot to bring relay codes here.”

“What’s this about you being a major now?” he said, smirking, his lips not leaving your cheek.

“Got an upgrade while you were gone,” you said, and then you gasped, laughing as Namjoon suddenly sucked your skin over your pulse on your neck, leaving behind a deep purple hickey.

“Well, Miss Major, that means you outrank me now,” he said, leaning back enough to smile at you, his expression a mix of mischievous and proud.

He stepped backward then, still supporting you with his arms, and walked back until he got to the bed, sitting down on it. He laid back, pulling you down on top of him gently, your mouths connected the whole way down.

He was the best thing you’d ever felt, his large, firm body contrasting his gentle touches and kisses. You couldn’t get close enough to him, but it was slow, lazy, loving, everything you’d ever wanted with him, his soft tongue in your mouth, his firm arms around you, his warm body under you.

You couldn’t get over how good he smelled. There was the soap he’d just used, but you’d known him and been close to him long enough to know his scent. He tasted so good too; he swirled his tongue with yours slowly, tracing lazy patterns on your tongue, kissing you so deeply your head spun. His hands rested on your back, his fingers spreading wider as he tried to touch more of you.

You parted for air as he rolled you both, holding your body to his with one hand as he pulled you up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as he gently laid you down. Even though you would’ve only fallen a few inches and the bed was soft, he set you down like you were made of glass, looking down at you with love and hearts in his eyes, not breaking eye contact as he gave you a small, warm smile.

His dark hair was mussed up a little from you running your fingers through it, and it looked fantastic on him. His face was flushed and his parted lips were red and a little swollen, and he looked like he’d been crying, or was about to cry, or both.

You pulled him down to you and kissed him again. He set his body against yours, lining himself up with you as you wrapped your legs around him. You were both still fully clothed, but you could feel him, pressed perfectly against you from your collars to his growing erection and your throbbing core.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, grinding slowly against you. “I’ve loved you for so long, I wanted to die when I thought something happened to you and I never told you. I promise I’m going to tell you now, every single day, every time I see you, every time we make love, every second of every day–” He cut himself off by kissing your neck desperately, moving down toward your breast.

“I love you, my angel. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world, I love you so much,” he said, kissing along your skin frantically by the collar of your ugly flight jumpsuit. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, I love you, I love you,” he said, kissing up the center of your chest toward your clavicle. His messy hair tickled your chin, and you rested one of your hands on the back of his head as he worked, gently stroking his hair.

“I love you too,” you managed to say, though words weren’t really coming to you right now, with all Namjoon was doing to you.

Namjoon got up then, and you watched for a moment as he started quickly stripping off his clothes. You sat up too, pulling off your jumpsuit, and Namjoon got all but his boxers off before your arms were even out. He helped you, running his hands along your skin as you peeled off the jumpsuit, leaving you in just the undershirt and shorts you’d had on underneath.

There was a moment where the two of you just sat there looking at each other. You’d both seen each other in this context — nearly naked — before, from sleeping in the same room to swimming to other random things you’d done together over the years, but this was the first time it was ever like this.

Namjoon raised his hands slowly, his fingers just barely skimming against your hips. His eyes were on your breasts, his mouth nearly watering, and you smiled at that. He looked up at you, his eyes innocent and showing every emotion he had within him; he was asking for permission.

You brought your hand up to his face and kissed him slowly, savoring every movement of his lips, the feel of his tongue, the taste of him. His hands went to your thighs and helped you wrap your legs around him, and then you were laying down again, Namjoon on top of you.

He kissed down your chest, this time simultaneously running one of his hands up your stomach under your thin undershirt. He cupped your breast with that hand, feeling you fully, while his mouth kissed back up to your neck. He got your undershirt off without either of you having to get up, though he did have to lean back a little to give you room to wiggle around, and then he unhooked your bra and threw that and your undershirt somewhere behind him.

Namjoon swirled his tongue around one of your nipples, gently squeezing your other breast with his hand, your peaked nipple hard against his palm. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger slowly while sucking the other, just barely using teeth and making you gasp, and then he switched sides, doing the same thing again.

“That feels so good, Joonie,” you sighed, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself. You stroked his hair while he worked, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. Every moment or so, you’d let out a moan for him, tightening your fingers in his hair whenever he did something that made you see stars, and he’d hum back to you, responding without taking his mouth off you.

Namjoon moved down your abdomen, kissing every rib, every freckle, every last inch of your skin. He dipped his tongue into your belly button and you gasped and giggled, feeling his grin against your skin as he kissed down your navel, his tongue tracing along the edge of the little shorts you still had on.

You reached down and tried to pull off your shorts, but Namjoon’s hands replaced your own, slowly pulling just your shorts off and leaving your panties. He tossed your shorts the same direction he’d tossed your bra, and then looked down at you, sitting back on his legs. Your legs were spread wide, your soaked panties the only thing covering you, your eyes desperate for him, your breasts rising and falling as your breath quickened in anticipation and need for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his expression almost dazed in love and adoration. He looked like he didn’t know where to look, his eyes scanning your face, your breasts, your spread thighs, the spot on your panties where you were already wet and soaking for him. You bit your lip and whimpered, and he closed his eyes, sighing and smiling to himself, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Namjoon bent over and kissed your ankle, slowly, chastely. He moved to the other side and repeated that, kissing your anklebone. He moved up your calf, staying on that side, kissing you over and over and moving so slowly you started to whine for him, begging him to go faster and reaching down for him. He reached up and took one of your hands, holding it and lacing your fingers together as he continued what he was doing, not at all speeding up.

He kissed your knee, the side of it, the front of it, and tilting your leg gently to kiss the back of it. He moved up, kissing your inner thigh while still holding your hand. You spread your legs further for him, whimpering and squeezing his hand as he got closer and closer to your center.

Namjoon pulled back then, a smug smile on his face as he started moving down to kiss his way up your other leg, starting again at your ankle. You let out a whiney moan, pulling his hand and looking down at him, pleading.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry,” he said gently, moving back to where you wanted him most.

He kissed you right over your panties, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that made you cry out. You could feel him breathing hard through his nose, smelling and inhaling you as he moved his mouth against you, letting go of your hand so he could hold your thighs with both his large, perfect hands.

He licked and sucked the fabric of your panties, tasting where you were soaked for him. It was the most amazing thing you’d ever felt, and you spread your legs even further for him, your hands holding onto the sheets of the bed, your knuckles turning white.

You gasped when you felt teeth, and then Namjoon was slowly pulling your panties down your legs with his mouth, looking up at you with playful eyes and a smirk. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead just closed your legs enough for him to get your panties off of you, letting him have his fun. He let out a small growl at you, your panties still in his mouth, and you giggled, a soft noise that made his eyes light up.

Before you could think or do anything, Namjoon was back between your legs, spreading you open with his fingers and licking a slow, thick line up your folds to your clit.

You cried out, your head falling back and eyes squeezing closed. Namjoon repeated the motion, even slower this time, moaning a little too as he let the tip of his tongue enter you for just a moment. You whined, pulling his hair hard and trying to spread your legs even further, and Namjoon stopped, humming softly as he turned his head and kissed your thigh.

“I love you so fucking much,” Namjoon murmured against your skin, kissing you there again. “Your pussy’s so pretty, my love. So soft and wet for me.”

“Joonie,” you sighed, stroking his hair. You could feel his smile against your thigh, and it made you smile, too. You felt warm, like you were glowing from his love.

Namjoon turned his head back and dipped his tongue into you again, this time further, like he was trying to see how far he could go. His lips sucked at your entrance as his tongue flicked in and out, not fast enough to get you off, but not slow, either. He moved his tongue like he was trying to drink you, lapping you up, bringing your wetness into his mouth and down his throat.

You moaned loudly for him, pulling his face harder against you by his hair, and he reached up and grabbed one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours over one of your thighs.

He moved his mouth up to your clit, drawing random shapes over it with the tip of his tongue lazily while he curled two fingers into you. He moved clumsily, like he wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing but just wanted to make you feel good, and what he was doing was definitely working. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in eagerness and love, and when he moaned around your clit, and you nearly screamed.

“Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck. God, your mouth is… mmm, god, you’re so fucking good, that feels so good, Joonie, Joonie–” You cut yourself off with a long, agonized cry as Namjoon sucked your clit into his mouth hard, swirling his tongue around it as he suctioned his mouth and moved his fingers inside you faster. You repeated a chorus of nothing but his name between breathy moans as you held onto his hair with your free hand, your other hand squeezing his.

You gasped when you came, your whole body tensing as you saw stars and every nerve in your body exploded in pleasure. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream as you failed to breathe, your lungs tightening and your orgasm only building and building as Namjoon kept moving his tongue and fingers. You felt like you were floating in space, millions of stars around you all bursting at once, the entire universe stopping for you and Namjoon and the love you felt for each other.

After a moment, you took in a shaky breath, trying to recover while your mind was still mush. Namjoon was still moving his mouth on you, now licking up your wetness at your entrance and moaning to himself at the taste. If he kept that up, you were going to come again, and soon.

You moaned, pulling on his hair enough for him to look up at you, not stopping what his mouth was doing. You pleaded with your eyes, whimpering and pulling his hair again, and he put his lips to your entrance one last time, this time spreading his lips as wide as possible and sucking as he slowly closed his mouth. You gasped and almost screamed at the sensation of him actually drinking you, desperate to taste you.

Your second orgasm was smaller, making you shudder and gasp for just a moment before steadily breathing deeply as you tried to recover again. You looked down at him, barely able to lift your head; Namjoon was kissing your thigh, your hips, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as he slowly worked his way up your stomach. You could see how hard he was, his precum glistening on the head of his cock as it bounced against his stomach with his movements.

You started to reach down to grasp him, but he gently stopped you, bringing your hand back up by your head and lacing his fingers with yours. He kissed your collarbone, leaving a trail of wet kiss spots all over your body, your own wetness in the shape of his lips and chin.

“Please, Joonie,” you hummed, and he came back to you, kissing your lips slowly and letting you taste yourself on him. You wrapped your legs around him tightly as he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when you felt the head of his cock against your folds, gasping when he started slowly sliding into you, every amazing inch of him filling and stretching you.

Namjoon buried his face in your neck, the length of his nose pressed against the curve of your jaw. He turned his head enough to kiss your neck, feeling your rapid, heavy pulse with his lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, not opening his eyes. “So fucking tight and wet for me, my angel, my princess, my heart, my love. I love you so fucking much.” He kissed your neck again gently before pushing all the way into you and bottoming out, the stretch so wonderfully tight and full. You cried out, spreading your legs further and higher for him, grabbing at his shoulders, scraping your fingernails down his back as he filled you up so completely.

Namjoon pulled out slowly and then pushed in again, rocking into you. You were desperate, nearly delirious and just about ready to cry if he didn’t start moving faster. He seemed to just barely be holding on by a thread, his own orgasm already one sudden movement away from overwhelming him.

“God, Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck,” you cried, close to actually in tears now. You started to say something else but it turned into a small whimper as he thrust into you again, hard.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, “I love you so much, Y/N…” Your name turned into a long moan as he began his slow, torturous pace, both of you so close to the edge already. You didn’t know how he was possibly going so slow still, other than the fact he must want to torture you.

“Go faster, please,” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders as tight as you could and digging in your fingernails. “I need you so bad, Joonie. God, fuck me, please…”

“I love you, angel,” he said, kissing your shoulder. He picked up the pace a little, but it wasn’t enough. “I love you, baby, I love you so much. I love you, I love you–”

“Go fucking faster, now, please…” you sobbed, pulling his hair, making him hiss in pain, but he listened, reaching down and holding your hip with one hand as he started pounding into you, the force of it making the bed creak and your breasts bounce with each quick, powerful thrust. You were long past gone, moaning loudly with each exhale, and Namjoon groaned and grunted, his head against your shoulder as the two of you moved together, you rolling your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.

Namjoon broke first. His orgasm hit him suddenly and he tried to keep moving, his thrusts sloppy, erratic, and uneven as he spilled into you, his mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut. He let out a long groan until he ran out of air, and then he didn’t inhale again until he finished, suddenly and harshly gasping in again, his whole body shaking in your arms.

He reached down and rubbed your clit furiously, and you only lasted a few seconds before you gasped too, clenching around his still half-hard erection inside you, which only made him groan in overstimulation as you squeezed and spasmed around him, gasping nothing but his name and feeling nothing but him, your love, your Namjoon.

Namjoon somehow managed to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. He moved to the side enough to fall beside you, one of his legs still between your thighs as he laid on his stomach, slightly turned in toward you. His hand moved up to cup and stroke your cheek as he lazily kissed your shoulder.

“I love you too, Joonie,” you said between shaky breaths, your vision almost blurry from lust and exhaustion and a dumb happy smile on your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

X.

You laid there for a little while together before you eventually went another round, this time as slow as Namjoon had wanted to go the first time.

When you came this time, your orgasm had to have lasted at least five full minutes (or at least, it felt like that) as Namjoon kept moving in and out of you, keeping up his steady, slow, overwhelming movements that left you delirious with his cock inside you, his thumb on your clit, and his lips on yours, breathing in every moan of his name.

After you both laid there a while again, lazy in post coital haze, you eventually got up and went to your room’s personal little bathroom, where you turned on the tiny shower and let it warm up. You stood there feeling the water’s temperature with your hand while Namjoon stood behind you, arms wrapped around you and lips on your neck. It was like he couldn’t go more than a few minutes without saying “I love you,” not that you were complaining.

You showered together, Namjoon standing behind you the whole time and washing your body for you. He massaged your breasts, hands sudsy as the warm water fell down over them as he kissed your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. One of his hands fell down to your folds, stroking you slowly as his other hand moved to your breast, arm wrapping around you so that his forearm could also press against your nipple, stimulating and touching both of your breasts at once.

Namjoon slid two fingers into you as he kissed your temple. You could feel him hard against your ass, and that feeling made your eyes flutter.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you, pleasing you, making love to you,” he murmured into your hair. You responded with an agonized moan, reaching back and holding onto his shoulder for support. “I’ve wanted you like this since we first met. I dreamed about eating your perfect little pussy so many times, doing exactly this to you, feeling you squeeze my cock like you did earlier when you came so prettily. You’re better than anything I ever could’ve imagined though, baby. Your pussy tastes like heaven and feels even better. You’re so fucking perfect, princess, I love you so much, more than my heart can bare.”

You felt like he had to be bending you over slightly, his firm chest against your back. You swore you could actually feel his cock throbbing.

“I need you,” you moaned, your eyes closed as you felt nothing but his hands.

“I’m here,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I’m here, angel. I love you.”

“Need you inside me,” you said, spreading your legs to stand with your feet braced wider apart. “I love you, too, Joonie. Please…”

Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice. Hooking his arm around your waist for support, he bent you both over a little more, sliding into you from behind in one smooth motion. You cried out in ecstasy, he felt so good and big and yours.

It was fast and sloppy; he hugged you against him with both arms while you braced yourself on the tile wall in front of you. The sound of skin smacking against wet skin, his hips hitting your ass coupled with both your quiet moans and the wet squelching of him moving hard and fast inside you, echoing off the tile walls with the sound of the running water. He filled you so perfectly, stretched you out so far, you felt like he was fucking up into your guts, so hard and deep and good.

You came at the same time, Namjoon groaning and squeezing you harder as your eyes rolled back in your head.

When you’d both recovered some, you stood there under the water, still in the same position. You both knew base rules about wasting water, so you needed to wrap this up, but neither of you wanted to move.

You eventually got out and dried off, both of you getting ready for bed with the toiletries provided by the base. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you the whole time though, so the whole process probably took three times longer than it should’ve.

When you both finished, he pulled you to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you, his hands spreading out on your bare back. Namjoon’s tongue slowly swirled with yours as he let out a small, contented hum, and he wrapped your legs up around his body, supporting you with one hand on your back and the other on your thigh.

Namjoon walked to your bed, carrying you, and laid down with you on top of him. You didn’t end up going another round, but you kissed for a while until eventually you started to move off of him to sleep beside him. Namjoon, though, held you there on top of him, keeping you there.

He murmured a soft little “please,” stroking your back gently, begging you to stay where you were on top of him. You laid back down and kissed right over his heart, before turning your head and resting your cheek on his chest, nuzzling in against him to sleep as he pulled the sheets up around you both.

You were safe in his arms. The world around you didn’t matter; not the people down the hall, not anything outside the base, none of it. The whole universe was just you and Namjoon in this bed, and nothing else existed. He was yours, and you were his.

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter ten: "Set me free my honey bee"

Word count: 11,6K

Summary: Let's jump 19 months in time and see how painful it has turned for reader and Spencer to hide their feelings for each other. JJ leaves the team, and a new member joins the BAU.

Warnings: Angst and hurt. Fools being assholes. Cursing, of course. Mention of CM cases and spoilers on S06E11.

A/N: Please don't hate me. Just remember things usually look like the shit before they get worst, and then everything is better. I hope.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Time is a weird thing. I remember when I was in school and time didn't pass fast enough. Semesters were eternal. It felt it had been years by the time summer vacation arrived. The complete opposite happened to me at the BAU. Suddenly, time passed too quickly. A whole year and a half went by in the blink of an eye.

I told Spencer about it, and he sent me a paper published by Professor Adrian Bejan that presented an argument based on the physics of neural signal processing. He hypothesizes that, over time, the rate at which we process visual information slows down, and this is what makes time 'speed up' as we grow older.

My answer was that I thought it happened 'cos as we grew older, we did things that actually gave us joy, which made us feel the time was passing faster than before. So we argued a whole Saturday afternoon about it and created our own theories for that event.

My theory was my personal favorite, 'cos it was the only one that could easily explain why so much time had passed in the BAU, and it felt like it had been just a few weeks.

It hadn't been easy, though. Those nineteen months had been filled with some of the worst situations we had been through as a team.

After I got shot, JJ finally admitted her relationship with Will and got pregnant. That was shocking, the first BAU baby: Henry.

Sadly, Henry was the only little good thing that happened that year. Because to sum it up, a bunch of awful shit happened to all of us: Hotch was in a car explosion that almost killed him. Spencer and Prentiss got trapped in an undercover mission into an underground cult to investigate child abuse, and Emily was beaten up pretty badly. Also, Spencer got infected with anthrax and nearly died. That was probably the most agonizing moment I had lived since the whole Tobias Hankel situation two years earlier.

Also, that year Prentiss had to investigate the case of the death of one of her best friends, and I was in a pretty nasty fight with an unsub that got me out of the field for three weeks. Not to mention, Spencer was shot in the leg.

Hotch was stabbed by the only unsub that has actually won against the BAU: Foyet. He attacked Aaron and got on the lose for months, but we all knew his next move as torture Hotch's family. That's why his ex-wife Haley and his little son Jack had to go into protective custody, and he couldn't see them for months while we tried to catch Foyet.

Things didn't go as planned. And without a doubt, the worst moment that year was the day Haley died. Foyet killed her, and Aaron lost it. He literally killed him with his bare hands the moment he got him. For a solid week, I was sure Aaron Hotchner wouldn't be the unit chief anymore. Strauss actually opened an investigation related to everything that happened that day. But in the end, somehow, she understood the "bloodbath" that had happened in that house was all in Foyet's hands.

However, there's no way to deny that the whole team had changed in many ways after that year. The concept of being a family was now more present than ever. After chasing Foyet for months, we were all onto him as if he was chasing our own family, because he was.

You don't work this kind of job with a team like mine and don't get attached to them. And this goes beyond how in love I was with Spencer. The (Y/N) who first stepped into the BAU, scared to show her true self, was long gone. And despite my deepest fears, letting them in and showing them who I really was had been one of the smartest decisions I have ever made.

Do you want to know which was my stupidest decision? Falling in love with Spencer Reid. It hadn't actually been my choice. I just didn't fight the feeling either. I don't think I could have even if I tried, though. Those nineteen months brought us so close, my mom thought we were living together, and the teasing from our friends was so common we weren't even affected by it.

For Christ Sakes, even Strauss thought we were dating! She forced us to attend a seminar on fraternization, concerned after she realized we always took our vacation together. We had a lot of fun trips, though. First, we visited his mom and had an amazing weekend in Las Vegas. Then we took a few days off after the anthrax incident and went to Hawaii. Picture Spencer Reid in an "all-inclusive," drinking all the coffee and eating all the pastries possible while reading a million books underneath an extra-large umbrella. We had fun that week, did some local touring, but most of all, sleeping in and relaxing. Spencer hates the beach but got those tickets anyway.

Did everybody think we were a couple? Yes

Did it help that we shared rooms, 'cos we were already used to it? No

Did it feel like a honeymoon without sex? Yes

Could I stop thinking about sex with Spencer? No.

And all that led us to the nightmare our relationship was going to become.

Penelope Garcia was drunk. She kept pouring shots and pushing them to us. Emily was wasted as well. But she kept acting like the classy lady she is. Not like JJ. My poor baby had mascara smeared under her eyes after crying for like an hour.

We found out she was leaving the team, and it was a hard blow on us. And by hard, I mean the worst thing that had ever happened to us. We had suffered without JJ when she was on maternity leave. And we struggled without her. Now knowing the Pentagon had taken her away from the BAU was torture.

We had a goodbye party for her at Rossi's, but this was our goodbye girl's night, and neither of us was holding anything back.

We had cried, we had sung sad songs. We drank all the champagne, wine, and vodka we could find. And now, holding our tequila shots, we knew it was time to call it a night.

- "I just love you girls so much,"- JJ whispered, crying- I don't wanna work without you.

- "Boo, come here!!"- I opened my arms and wrapped them around my friend, kissing the top of her hair a few times- "I love you too, and you are going to come back so soon you won't have time to miss us. You'll see. Papa Rossi and Dada Hotch are gonna fix everything."

I was drunk. Seriously drunk. But that wasn't the reason why I was so sweet with JJ. The truth is, I was broken-hearted. Like Penelope and Reid, I didn't manage change very well, and the fact that JJ was forced to leave made me feel frustrated and mad. But most of all, it made me think of every time I had been a little bitch with her during the years. And I regretted each one of them.

- "And we won't be far!"- Emily added and caressed JJ's arm, smiling kindly- "You will still be in town, and we will not leave you alone"- JJ chuckled and nodded.

- "I know, girls. Shit, I love you all so much!"

- "We love you too!"- Penelope sobbed and moved closer, wrapping the three of us in her arms.

- "Please, take care!"- JJ wiped off the tears from her eyes and looked at us- "Emily, don't do anything stupid! Don't rush in the field, and please don't take your fucking vest off!!"

- "I won't! I promise!"

- "You have to live to be Unit chief one day!"- JJ added, and Prentiss widened her eyes, shocked.

- "That's not really my gold."

- "But you'd be queen, baby!!"- Jareau added and turned to Penelope- "And you, please make sure Hotch eats. I kept a stack of granola bars on my desk to keep him fueled during the day. He usually forgets lunchtime and skips dinner, so..."

- "Don't worry, JJ,"- Penelope nodded, and we all felt our heartbreak a little thinking about all the things JJ did in her daily basics to take care of the team, and we didn't even know.

- "How are we going to survive without you?"- I mumbled, pouting. JJ chuckled and held my hand.

- "You are a rock, and you will do a fantastic job keeping this team together. Just, please, can you and Spencer start dating now?"

I wide opened my eyes and stared at JJ. The comment surprised me. I shouldn't, 'cos the whole "you and Spencer should start dating" joke was getting old. Only this time, JJ wasn't joking. She held both my hands and looked right into my eyes.

- "(Y/N), he loves you"- I was about to argue with her, but she covered my mouth with her Cheetos smelling hand.

- "Don't say a word! Spencer loves you so much you really must be blind not to see it. And I know you love him too. It's implied in all the little things you do for him every day. So don't take it for granted. Don't think this will last forever 'cos look at me! A week ago, I was happily working at the BAU, and now I'm drinking at my goodbye party! So don't waste any more time! You are in love with Spencer, and he loves you! It doesn't take a profiler to see it. So please! Act on it!"

There was a dramatic silence after. I didn't know how to break it. I could just joke around, but somehow, it didn't feel right. It had been too quiet for too long, and that made everything harder to deny. Finally, Emily put her hand on mine, just like JJ was still doing, and smiled at me.

- "There's nothing to be ashamed of, (Y/N). You are not the first person to fall for her best friend."

- "And the Junior G Man loves you so much,"- Penelope added, landing her hand on our hands too.

- "As his friend"- I corrected and sighed. I guess that was it. After three years, I could probably start facing my feelings in front of my friends.

- "No, (Y/N)"- Garcia tried to argue, but I shook my head and stood up, 'cos all that sudden attention and affection was bothering me.

- "PG, I was in Hawaii with the man, sharing a room, walking around in a bikini, and he didn't do anything."

- "That's because he is shy!"- Emily excused him right away.

- "My bikini leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. Do you know what he said when he first saw me on it?"- I looked at my friend and poured us another round of tequila- "And I quote, "I don't think I brought enough books. This one is too interesting."

I air quoted with my fingers as we spoke, and the three of them looked at me, speechless. I made my point and drank my shot, feeling the alcohol burning down my throat. My friends opened their mouths but didn't produce a word. I sighed and looked at them.

- "But he hates the beach, and he took you there anyway,"- Emily pointed out

- "Did he give you his speech about how he hates sandy food?"- JJ asked me, and I chuckled, nodding.

- "And about pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, and of course, the real reason he hates the beach: drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces."

- "And the man took you to the beach!"- Penelope argued.

- "But he didn't do anything! he didn't make his move, didn't even hold my hand!!"- I nearly shouted- "That's why, among a lot of reasons, is how I know Spencer is not interested in me! If only I'd tell you all the shit we've been through!"

- "Please!! Tell us!!"- Garcia begged and grabbed one of my legs- "I won't live another day 'cos I won't be able to deal with the mystery!"

- "No! 'cos you are gonna tell Morgan"- I slurred- "And he is going to embarrass and tease my honey bunny, and my honey bunny is gonna get all nervous and nervous around me, and we are never going to..."- I stopped talking and looked at my friends. I was sharing too much.

- "(Y/N)?"- Prentiss looked at me, but I just shook my head and looked down.

- "I think I better go home."

- "No, you can't drive like this,"- JJ argued immediately and held my hand- "I'm not gonna let you go intoxicated. Will is gonna come pick me up, and we'll drop you in your place."

I nodded at her and stayed still. My friends smiled at me, and slowly very slowly, I leaned on JJ's shoulder and rested my head on it.

- "I love you, boo,"- I whispered, and she giggled- "I don't think I'll stay sane without you there with us anymore."

- "Hotch is gonna manage to get her back,"- Penelope assured me, and I just nodded.

- "Meanwhile, we won't replace you, and if anyone tries to push someone new into the team, we are not gonna take them,"- I added, feeling JJ's hand holding mine.

- "Don't be mean with people just 'cos you miss me. If there's a new teammate, it won't be their fault I was pushed out of the BAU."

- "But, JJ,"- I tried to argue, but she shook her head right away.

- "No, (Y/N). You can't be mean to people just because."

Clearly, my friend hoped I could be the better person. The simple question was: did I want to be the better person? Right there, drunk and sad, the answer was no.

Spencer's point of view

I kept finding myself awake at four in the morning, walking around my apartment, not able to read or to write anything. For the last months, at least twice or three times each week, I would stay awake, no matter how tired I felt, and I would haunt my own apartment, listening to my vinyl records.

The sudden lack of sleep wasn't really something weird in me. I have always been nocturnal. Besides, the news of JJ's departure had hit us all pretty hard. I had already shared my share of tears and tried to manage the fury that caused me to know we were helpless to the government's decisions. There was nothing we could do, neither us, Hotch, or even Strauss. Not that she would if she could.

My family was in crisis, and all we could do was hope for the best and stay together.

It was scary losing JJ. It made me think of all the things that could go wrong every day on the field daily. It was bad that we could get hurt or even die on our work. But that they divided us that way made no sense. Like Rossi said: our loss was someone else's winning, and in the FBI, no one cared if we lost.

I poured myself a cup of herbal tea and inhaled the smell of it. It smelled like home. Like (Y/N). She had some of her favorite teas in my apartment. She had a bunch of all her things there, actually. When mom visited, she thought we were living together. She is still sure we are dating and that I don't wanna tell her. I don't longer argue with her about it. It's useless, and it somehow feels good to imagine in another world. It was actually true.

That year my feelings for my best friend had grown in a way that made it all more difficult to deal with. I didn't just love her. I was in love with her. She was in everything I did, in each and every one of my thoughts. I could hear her laughter in my head, like a record playing my favorite song over and over again.

When she was out there in the field, I couldn't stop running all the probabilities of her getting hurt, and most of the time, I would do my best to keep her safe, knowing it could somehow interfere with the case.

Hotch had called me to his office a few times, aware something was going with me. He could read it on my face, I guess. It was scary to know everybody could read my feelings for (Y/N) but her. And it was sad to think of the worst: that she knew how much I loved her, but she didn't feel the same, and she was just being my friend 'cos she was never going to be anything else but my friend.

I drank my tea and hummed the song that sounded in my house at four in the morning: Love is a losing game. Seemed pretty accurate for my mood. I remember the day I got that vinyl. We were out with (Y/N), Frank, and Lu, looking for a present for Mikey's birthday, and we ended up in a record store, getting a million vinyl records for ourselves.

- "Are you getting all those?"- (Y/N) asked me and looked at the seven albums in my hand.

- "Yes, why? I can't?"- I answered and raised an eyebrow.

- "Sassy!"- she giggled and grabbed them- "You can get all the albums you want. But I have to give my approval first. No, you are not getting this!"- she grabbed The Beatles' Revolver and left it aside.

- "What? Why? It's only one I need to complete my collection."

- "I know, but when you get it, you'll force me to listen to it, and I don't like the Beatles,"- she argued, and I just shook my head, taking the album again.

- "Sorry, chipmunk, I'm buying it."

- "Fine. I won't go to your house for the next couple of weeks then."

- "Why don't you tell me which album you wanna listen to when you are in my house then?"- I looked at her, smiling at me and looking for a record on the shelves.

- "This! You need some Amy in your life."

And I did. Now, at four in the morning, all alone walking around, I could see her in my apartment, singing along to her favorite songs while cooking dinner, feeling at home. I wished she was there, with me, doing nothing. Watching tv, or reading. Just hanging out. I knew it wasn't healthy being in love with my friend, seeing her every day, and also hanging out with her every chance I got. But even when I knew she was never going to love me the way I did, I was going to take every chance I had to enjoy her company. If that was all I was going to get.

My phone took me from my thoughts, and I quickly walked to my room to get it. I thought it was Hotch announcing a case, but it was JJ.

- "Hey! JJ, everything ok? Is Henry ok?"

- "Yes, hi Spence. We are all ok."

- "It's four in the morning."

- "Sorry I woke you up... I just..." - she made a pause and sighed at the other side of the line- "Spencer, you know I love you."

- "I love you too. You are one of my best friends. Is everything ok?"

- "Yes, I just wanted to... remember a bunch of years ago, when you asked me to that football game?"

A million years had passed since the one and only time I had asked JJ out. It was the only move I tried to do on her, and I failed incredibly. It was awkward, and she had no idea it was a date, so she invited Garcia to come along. I was so embarrassed I never even mentioned that single event ever again, and our friendship grew after.

- "Yes, I remember, JJ. Why?"

- "When you asked me out, did you have a crush on me?"

- "JJ, are you drunk?"- I had to ask 'cos that conversation was starting to scare me.

- "Yes, but that's not why I'm talking about this. Just answer the questions, Spence. When you asked me out on that date, did you have a crush on me?"

- "Yes, I did."

I closed my eyes, embarrassed to face feelings that were far forgotten.

- "You see, I had a crush on you too back then,"- JJ said and chuckled- "But neither of us acted on it, and life continued, and now I'm in love with Will, and we have a baby, and you are his godfather."

Of all the things I thought I would listen to that day, never in a million years, I imagined I would hear JJ drunk telling me she had a crush on me when we first met.

- "Now, do you want that to happen again?"- she asked, and I didn't get it, 'cos I was still trying to process what I had just heard. So I might have had a relationship with her if only I had said something, act on it. Kiss her, ask her out again?

- "What?"

- "Spence. Do you want to miss the chance to be with the girl you like?"

- "No, but JJ, what are you talking about?"

She sighed, frustrated, and used that tone of voice with me, that very maternal specific tone of voice she used to explain things she knew were hard for me to follow.

- "When you like someone, Spence, you have to tell her. 'Cos sometimes, life gets in the way, and if you don't do what you have to do to be happy, no one will do it for you."

- "Are you ok, JJ?"

- "Yes, Spence, I'm ok. I'm home with Will. We just got here after dropping (Y/N) off her place."

- "How was she?"

- "She might have had a few too many drinks, but she'll be ok in the morning. Maybe she'd appreciate it if you brought her coffee and donuts."

- "She doesn't like donuts,"- I corrected her- "She likes cupcakes and brownies."

- "Sorry. Coffee and cupcakes... just tell her you love her, Spence. She deserves to know."

I held my breath and closed my eyes. I didn't get why JJ was telling me that, but I knew I didn't want to talk about it. So I said good night and hung up.

What was the point of telling me we could have been a couple of years had passed already? Why didn't she say a thing before? Or even better, why didn't she ever say a word about it at all? So I missed the chance to be happy with her. Great. One more regret to add to my list.

I laid on my bed and tried to remember that date. I was so nervous that day, my hands shook inside my pockets as I walked to JJ's door. She looked beautiful that day, especially when she looked at me and announced she had invited Penelope to join us.

That was when I realized she would never see me as a proper date, just like a friend. And I learned to make my peace with that over the years. My crush for JJ lasted a few more months, but it vanished when I fell for (Y/N). What if she had never joined the team? Would I have been in love with JJ forever? Jeniffer always made me feel like her little brother, and I guess that's the mechanic that works for us. We were good friends ever since we met, and yes, I had a crush on her, but we work more like siblings than anything else.

What was the point in telling me I had missed a chance with her now? I just couldn't see it.

(Y/N)'s point of view

The next few weeks were us trying to survive without JJ. The team was making the best it could, but it was hard. Penelope took the lead during the second case without JJ. She turned into our tech analyst and communication liaison, only to collapse under the pressure of having two roles.

No one was going to replace JJ. We all knew it. Literally, no one, 'cos Hotch decided he and Garcia were going to split the job, and we were all going to collaborate as much as we could, 'cos we were a team. A family. And that's what families do.

And families were the target of the unsub we were hunting the day everything changed. Again. I hadn't recovered from the departure of JJ when Rossi and Hotch walked to the bullpen and introduced us to Agent Trainee Ashley Seaver.

My nemesis.

- "Agent trainee Seaver"- Rossi smiled at her like a proud father and looked at us as we stood up, wondering who she was- "Supervisory Special Agent Prentiss, (Y/L/N), and Morgan."

- "I've heard so much about the three of you,"- she said with the sweetest tone of voice I had ever heard. Something about that felt odd.

- "I hope it is all good- Morgan flirted right away, of course."

- "Very, sir."

- "Anything specific? I mean about me in particular?"- I turned to him and failed in holding back my chuckles.

- "Please, don't encourage him, or he will never stop talking,"- I said, and Derek elbowed me playfully. Seaver smiled at us and even blushed a little bit. She was nervous.

- "Agent Seaver is on loan to us from the academy while she is remedial training with an injury."

Hotch announced. And my stomach tightened right away. There was something wrong with that whole scene. I could feel it in my guts. But I didn't know why?

- "Concussion. Hand to hand got a little out of control."- Seaver explained and kept a silly smile on her face.

- "How's the other guy?"- Prentiss asked.

- "Don't ask."

- "I was remediated in the academy also,"- Spencer said, walking over us, and suddenly I understood why I had a bad feeling about everything.

- "Agent Seaver, Dr. Reid."

As soon as I heard Rossi say those words, there was a part of me who just wanted to hold Spencer's hand and push him away from her, even before they could say hi. She looked at him like he was eye candy, and I clenched my knuckles as I stared at the scene.

- "Uhm... What was your issue?"- she asked him, and I could see the pink on her cheek intensifying as he looked at her, confused.

- "What was my issue? Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's alley. You know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field."

Seaver stared at him and kept nodding, though I wondered if she was listening to what he had said. Spencer looked exceedingly handsome that day. His hair was very short for the first time in years, and he still had no idea how to comb it, so it was all over the place, making him look as hot as fuck.

I was so in love with him, I didn't know what to do with those feelings at all. It was hard working with Reid at that point. I just wanted to kiss him.

- "Agent Seaver's going to accompany us to New Mexico,"- Aaron announced, and I couldn't help but question him right away.

- "She is?"

- "As a consultant."- he assured me.

- "On?"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Hotch, wondering what a trainee agent could help us with as a consultant.

- "She has a unique perspective,"- Rossi tried to explain, but it sounded like bullshit.

- "They don't know?"- Seaver turned to the elderly agents, and they shook their heads.

- "Well, we weren't sure how you wanted to,"- David whispered.

- "Uh... Seaver's not my original last name. It's my mother's maiden name. Mine used to be Beauchamp. My father is Charles Beauchamp"- Ashley was supposed to explain the circumstances of her consultancy to the whole team, but she just looked at Spencer as she spoke.

- "As in the Redmond ripper, Charles Beauchamp?"- he asked her, and suddenly, it clicked. It was like my whole body was telling me I couldn't be close to her for a reason.

- "That's him,"- she whispered and kept her eyes on my best friend as he continued talking.

- "He killed 25 women over 10 years in rural North Dakota. I think that you caught him, right, Rossi?"- and David nodded.

- "Hotch was on that team, too."

- "Based on her life experience, we were hoping that agent Seaver might recognize something in the family dynamics inside the community that could be helpful. We have a plane waiting,"- Hotch announced and looked at us, but none of us said a word.

I kept my eyes glued at my feet the whole time Aaron talked. Then, Spencer nodded and walked with Seaver and Rossi out to the hangar. I couldn't even blink. I think I was in shock.

- "Her father was a serial killer?"- Prentiss asked Hotch, not getting what he was thinking.

- "That's definitely a different set of parameters,"- Morgan added. Neither of them was sold on the idea, which made me feel a little bit better.

- "I don't want her presence to get us sidetracked. It's a long shot that she's gonna see anything helpful. We work it like any other case,"- Hotch was clear, and Prentiss and Morgan nodded.

- "You got it."

But I disagreed with that.

- "(Y/N), is everything ok?"- Aaron asked me, and I tried my best to lie and be cool.

- "Yeah, I'm ok."

- "Ok. We work this like any other case. Wheels up in twenty."

But everything was far from being ok.

I sat next to Spencer on the jet, and we reviewed the case files together. Hotch briefed us, and we all pretended it wasn't weird having Seaver there. And I guess we had to pretend it wasn't odd knowing her dad was a serial killer.

- "You are very young, (Y/N),"- she said and smiled at me. She was sitting across from Spencer and me, and you could tell she had been trying to join the conversation for a few minutes now.

-" Twenty eight,"- I answered and looked at the files again.

- "And you, doctor?"

- "You can call me Reid. I'm twenty eight too,"- Spencer cut her a short, awkward, and nervous smile, and I turned to him.

- "Honey, did I leave my Mets jersey at your house?"- it was the only question that came to my mind at that minute. It was completely random, but somehow it showed a part of our dynamic that Ashley didn't know. Our friendship. Our closeness.

- "Yes, I found it last night,"- he answered and sipped his coffee- "I was gonna bring it over, but then I remembered you always borrow all my sweaters when you are home or when you stay over, so I thought maybe it was a good idea to keep it at my place."

- "I don't know, Batsy. It's my favorite sweatshirt- I raised an eyebrow, and I'm pretty sure I even flirted a little bit."

- "So? You need to keep one there."

- "But I like wearing your clothes when we are at your place. It's extra large and extra comfy."

- "Is that why you keep taking my sweaters back to your house?"- he asked and chuckled- "Last Sunday, I found four of my sweaters in your closet."

- "Sorry, I'm not even sorry,"- I said and laughed- "And what were you doing in my closet?"

- "Lucy, Ricky, can we focus on the case?"- Morgan asked and waved at us with one silly grin on his face- "We love hearing your adorable daily adventures, but we've got a psycho killer to catch."

Spencer blushed and flustered right away. I stuck out my tongue at Morgan and just shook my head. The way Seaver looked at Reid was still driving me nuts, but I felt I had shown her he was mine, childishly.

It's embarrassing to think that's not the most childish thing I did around her those days. Or in the weeks to follow. But I didn't like Ashley, and I didn't want her around my team. And it wasn't just her constant flirting with Spencer. It was the fact her father had killed my mother's sister when she was in college, and I was making my best effort to keep that fact aside from work. My personal life had to stay out of the FBI, especially when working a case.

I had to do some serious mental work trying to remember it wasn't Ashley's fault her father was a sick bastard. She hadn't hurt my family, and her father had ruined her life too. It wasn't her fault.

But one thing is knowing. Another thing is being rational about it. Spoiler: I wasn't so rational about it.

- "So, (Y/N). Do you like working at the BAU?"- Ashley asked me and looked at me through the rearview mirror. We were in the SUV, and Prentiss was driving. I was in the back seat, trying to ignore her, but she made it impossible.

- "Yes, very much,"- I answered and nodded, not taking my eyes from the window.

- "Everybody is very friendly,"- Seaver added and made a pause. I don't know if she wanted me to say something or if she was trying to find a way to say what she wanted to say.

- "Yes, they are,"- I humored her, and she quickly responded.

- "Are you and Spencer dating?"- I could feel the blood raising my cheeks as she spoke. And Prentiss flashed me a look through the mirror as Ashley continued talking.

- "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I just wondered because of the fraternization policy."

- "Right. Sure. Of course."

Those three words were meant to let Ashley know I wasn't buying her bullshit, So I literally spit them.

- "Spencer is my best friend. We are not dating."

Facing that simple truth had never been harder before, especially after how I saw Ashley's face light up.

- "You just seem to be so close."

- "Oh, they are close,"- Emily smiled at me and winked- "They are so close, they sometimes freak us out."

- "We freak you out?"- I raised an eyebrow and carefully hit her arm, pretending to be upset. But honestly, I was glad she was teasing me.

- "I am just saying, we are all pretty suspicious about you two. I am actually surprised you didn't share rooms tonight. They usually share rooms."- Emily explained to Seaver.

- "He was paired with Morgan,"- I pouted and looked at my phone. I thought maybe I could send him a funny text. I actually wanted to hang out with him.

- "He is very nice,"- Ashley added- "I mean, everybody is nice."

- "Yes, you mentioned it"

I was clearly not being nice. Seaver nodded and looked at the files again. I assumed she was trying to find a way to keep asking about Spencer, and I was making my best not to kill her.

- "Working with a genius must be somehow intimidating,"- she said after a few minutes. Damn it, she wasn't going to let that subject go.

- "It's fun working with Spencer,"- Prentiss said, trying to humor Seaver. And mostly, I guess trying to ease my mood and keep me from killing the trainee agent.

- "I'm sure it is,"- Seaver added. I hated her.

- "He is more than just a genius, he is a nerd."- Emily pointed out and chuckled at her words, making Seaver giggle too. I looked at my book again, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on it at all. He was my nerd. Mine.

- "Well, it's very refreshing to be with a group who trusts and works so well together,"- she added- "I had never felt less judged and more welcome in my entire life."

I know I should have felt sorry for her. But I honestly couldn't. That was the day I realized I wasn't the good person I thought I was. There was a part of me that was a scumbag. I'm guessing knowing that is pretty helpful and positive 'cos you can work on your flaws. But I wasn't planning on working on anything at that minute, though. I just wanted to break Seaver's face.

Spencer's point of view

I didn't like working without JJ. I've never been good with change, and that was a massive alteration of our routine. I missed her, and adding Ashley to the team made things even weirder for me, even for a case. I didn't want to be judgemental, but her father was a serial killer. Of course, that would make things weird.

Besides, everybody kept bugging me, teasing me, trying to see if I liked Seaver. Penelope called while we were on the case and started taunting me, saying she knew I thought Ashley was cute. I could see she was beautiful, but I couldn't see her that way. And I didn't want anyone to say those kinds of things around (Y/N).

Why did I care so much?

I didn't want to face it 'cos I knew it was completely platonic, but I didn't want (Y/N) to think I had a crush on Seaver. I knew my best friend didn't have romantic feelings for me, and I also knew I wasn't going to make a move on her or anything. But I didn't want things to change more than they already had. And most of all, I didn't want anything to alter my dynamic with (Y/N).

But at the same time, somehow, it felt everything was already different between us.

- "Hey, honey bunny,"- (Y/N) walked to me and handed me a cup of coffee- "I thought you might need one of these."

- "You are a lifesaver,"- I whispered and sipped the cup. It was perfect.

We were on the jet on our way back home. The whole team was mostly quiet. The mood was weird. Ashley had done something quite reckless earlier and nearly got herself killed. She walked to the unsub's house all alone, not knowing he was our guy. She almost died, and none of us can even imagine what went through her head to do such a thing.

Rossi and Hotch walked to her. (Y/N) looked at me, and I could read on her face that both of us knew what was going to happen.

Ashley was alone when David sat in front of her, and Hotch stood in the middle of the aisle. Maybe that had been insensitive of us. Neither of us tried to contain her. Neither of us really knew her that well. Or at all, as a matter of fact.

- "You were not supposed to go off on your own."- Hotch went straight to the point.

- "I know,"- she whispered, and I could see how (Y/N)'s face changed. I tried to read her, but all I was able to see was... anger? I had to be wronged. She had no reason to be mad at Ashley.

- "You could have been killed,"- Hotch crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her.

- "I know that, too."

- "Why, Ashley? You're smarter than that"- Rossi sounded like a worried father. I didn't look at him 'cos I kept my eyes on (Y/N)'s, still trying to read her emotions. But what I saw made no sense. She really looked like she was angry at Ashley. Like she hated her.

- "I never got to apologize to any of the victims. The families of the women my father killed. I thought if I could just apologize to one family that had been hurt that way..."

And that was when (Y/N) snapped. She jumped from her seat and walked to Seaver. Aaron and David looked at her surprised, and Morgan turned to me, taking off his headphones. Neither he nor Prentiss got what was happening until that moment.

- "Ok. Shoot!"- (Y/N) sat right in front of Seaver, next to David, and looked at her. But she didn't get it.

- "What? What are you talking about?"

- "You just said you wanted to apologize to one of the families. So go ahead. Try."

The silence on the jet was so deep and awkward it felt no one was ever going to talk again.

- "I'm sorry, (Y/N). But I don't get what you are implying,"- Ashley's voice was a whisper. I knew she was sad and affected, embarrassed even. But I also knew (Y/N), and I could read it on her face. She wasn't joking.

- "You said you wanted to apologize to the family of one of your dad's victims, so go ahead. Apologize to me."

My first instinct was to stand up, which I did. But I froze and didn't take a step closer to (Y/N) when I noticed the severe and cold look in her eyes. I didn't know what she was talking about. But I knew she wasn't bluffing.

- "Why should I... apologize to you?"- Ashley asked her, and her voice broke at a certain point, probably scared of the answer.

- "Your dad killed my mother's older sister. She was in college,"- (Y/N) spit each word with hate and looked at Ashley, waiting for her reply. But Seaver didn't know what to do. She widened her eyes and stayed still. She barely kept her breathing steady.

- "(Y/N), maybe we should let Seaver rest,"- Hotch landed a hand on her shoulder, but my friend shook her head.

- "No, Hotch. By making that choice, she put everyone at risk,"- (Y/N) didn't take her eyes from Ashley as she spoke- "As far as I remember when you are at the academy, they teach you that in the field, we are responsible to and for your team."

- "(Y/N)... I had no idea..."- Ashley tried to apologize, I could see it, but it was clear she wasn't going to win that argument- "I am so sorry."

- "I don't know, Seaver. Did you think saying "sorry" would make those families feel better? 'Cos it ain't working here. "Sorry" won't make my mom stop feeling guilty about what happened. And, if things had gotten ugly back there, "sorry" wouldn't have made your mistake go away in case anyone would have gotten hurt. So no. Sorry doesn't help. Maybe it can ease your conscience, but when you really fuck it up, it never makes things better."

(Y/N) stood up and walked back to her seat in front of me. I let her pass and didn't say a word. I knew she wouldn't want to talk about it there. And, of course, Seaver didn't say a word. She just stood up and walked to the back of the jet, to the bathroom. Rossi and Hotch looked at each other and then looked at me.

David poured a glass of whiskey and walked to (Y/N) slowly. He didn't say a word, he just handed it to her, and she just took it and sipped it with shaky hands.

- "Thanks,"- she whispered, and Rossi nodded. Hotch raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. He just walked to his seat and opened a case file.

I moved back to my seat and opened my satchel. I had run out of candies earlier that day, so I didn't have much to give to her that could make her smile. So I picked a book and handed it to her. She took it and smiled at me kindly. I knew she was fighting back the tears, and I am sure she has held back all the emotions than being with the daughter of the man who killed her aunt since she knew who Seaver was. And she managed to do the job well. I was proud of her.

- "Wanna grab something to eat when we reach DC?"- I whispered, but for the first time ever, she shook her head.

- "I'm gonna have to catch a rain check for that dinner. I think I wanna go straight to my bed today, honey."- she sipped her glass again, and I nodded.

- "Don't worry, next time."

I was waiting for the train to go back home later that night when I saw Seaver sitting at a bench at the station, staring at her hands on her lap. I didn't see her leaving the BAU, though to be honest, I was really focused on finishing my paperwork to go home. (Y/N) had left as soon as we reached DC, but I had stayed a little longer.

I hesitated for a few seconds before I took a few steps closer and waved at Seaver. She looked at me surprised, as soon as she saw me, but didn't move. I smiled, trying to look friendly, and sat next to her.

- "Hi. What are you doing here?"- I asked her, and she shrugged.

- "I was going to go home, but I think I sat here half an hour ago and haven't been able to move,"- I turned to her and shook my head.

- "Do you want to eat something?"- after what had happened at the jet, I figured Ashley wasn't feeling so good, and maybe talking with someone could help her. She looked at me and blushed; I don't know why. But at least, she smiled and nodded.

- "Great, pizza?"

- "Pizza sounds good."

We were waiting for our food and making small talk. I kept giving Ashley pizza facts to fill the silence 'cos it was weird hanging out with Ashley. I didn't know her, really. We had worked a case together, but that didn't mean I knew her. And, of course, we had the whole jet incident. I felt a little guilty about what had happened, though it wasn't my fault at all in retrospect. I just felt like it was my job cheering her up a little bit after everything she had gone through.

- "How do you do it?"- she asked me all of a sudden- "How do you deal with the pressure of this job?"

- "You get used to it, I guess. I don't know if it's a good thing to get used to, but... it comes with the job, I think,"- I didn't know if I was doing ok comforting her. Then again, I have never been particularly good at it. Not then, not now.

- "Did you always dream about doing this?"- she asked me, and her eyes locked into mine in a way that made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

- "Y... yes. Ever since I was a kid, catching the bad guys,"- Seaver nodded and sipped her coke- "You? Why did you get into the academy?"

I regretted my question right after I asked, just 'cos I realized she might have done it to understand her father's behavior. It was only apparent that had shaped her actions.

- "I guess you know that..."- Ashley answered and smiled, her eyes looking straight into mine. I know I blushed. She is a beautiful woman, though I wasn't thinking about her that way. It was an odd feeling being observed that way.

I was glad our pizza made it to the table, and we were forced to stop talking, and I could focus on anything else but her. Not that I didn't want to look at her, but... I think the right way to explain it is to call it "uneasy." That's how I felt. I wanted to be friendly with her, she had a horrible experience consulting with the team, and I was sure she wasn't really having a good day.

- "This might sound weird, but... do you think I can call you sometime?"- Ashley asked after a few minutes. We were eating and talking about nothing important. I nearly chook at her words and looked at her, nodding.

- "Sure, why?"- I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't know why she might need to talk to me again.

- "I just think maybe you could help me with a few assignments at the academy."

- "Yeah, of course."

Ashley Seaver smiled and nodded at me, pleased. She took a sip of Sprite, and I could read her, trying to find the words to continue speaking.

- "I'm glad. I was sure you were going to say no."

- "Why?"- I furrowed my brows, confused- "I'm not a big fan of phones, but I can handle a casual phone call."

- "No, I just didn't think your girlfriend would like... I mean, I think (Y/N) hates me, and as her boyfriend, I thought you... would... I don't know."

- "I'm, we are... we,"- I was completely flustered as I tried to rearrange my thoughts. Seaver looked at me innocently and waited for my words.

- "(Y/N) isn't my girlfriend"- it bothered me to admit that simple fact. Why? 'Cos it hurt to think we looked like a couple, but we weren't. Why did Seaver think we were together?

- "Really? But..."

- "She is my best friend,"- I explained poorly. She nodded and hesitated before saying what she was thinking. It was obvious she was trying to arrange the words in her head.

- "It's just that you two... sorry, I'm overstepping,"- Ashley blushed and shook her head- "She is... strong."

- "Yes, very."

- "I think I started with the wrong foot with her."

- "Well, I don't mean to justify anything, but if your father hurt,"- I made a pause, trying to find a way to say it that wasn't so painful.

- "Killed. My father killed her aunt,"- she corrected me with a cold and monotonous tone of voice. I just nodded and sipped my water.

- "She is an amazing person,"- I don't know if I was trying to excuse (Y/N)'s earlier behavior or if I just loved her so much I needed to tell people how awesome she was.

- "I'm sure you will pass this,"- I assured her- "Once you get to know her, and she gets to know you."

- "I don't think she will give me that chance. Besides, I was just clear to assist with only one case."

- "If you want to stay, you can request your remedial training be here. And if Hotch approves it, I could talk to (Y/N). I'm sure she will like to know you better."

Why did I say all that? I had no idea.

- "Thank you, Spence. You are really sweet,"- Ashley moved closer and held my hand. I stayed very still, absolutely awkward.

- "Yeah, I don't... like... holding hands,"- I quickly moved it away and tried to smile at her. She stayed still, not understanding my reaction but trying to act normal.

- "Sorry."

- "That's ok. I'm a germaphobe, that's all."

After pizza, we left the place and said goodnight. I told Ashley I was weary (which was, in fact, the truth) and got her a cab to take her home. After that, I walked to my place. I felt like I needed to be alone for a while. My head was overwhelmed, and in the latest couple of weeks, I had severe trouble sleeping.

I had migraines that nearly blinded me. I was scared they meant I could develop the first signs of schizophrenia, like mom, 'cos they were coming more and more often. It wasn't that bad yet, the light didn't hurt my eyes, and I didn't have any sign of hallucination, but still, I knew it could be serious.

I tried to think of a reason why I might be having those severe headaches. I was eating correctly, mostly 'cos (Y/N) forced me to eat. No, she didn't force me, but she made sure I had all my meals at work, not just coffee. And usually, at the weekends, we would spend our time together, and she was a fantastic cook. So it wasn't an alimentary issue.

I wasn't sleeping well. That wasn't new, but it was getting serious. I wrote and read a lot at night 'cos I couldn't fall asleep until late. I didn't know why. I just couldn't rest. My body ached, and my brain wouldn't sleep. The only nights I could actually get some rest were the ones when (Y/N) stayed with me. It was a blessing when Hotch paired us to share rooms, 'cos I could easily fall asleep when she was around. Her presence soothed me in a way that I didn't understand. Let me put it this way, I know it might sound cheesy, but the beating of her heart set the rhythm for my own, and at night it would bring me peace.

I reached home that night and sighed. I knew I wasn't going to rest easy. (Y/N) wasn't there with me. So I made myself a cup of herbal tea, (Y/N) had a lot of those in my house, and I drank them when I missed her. The smell coming from the cup made me feel like she was close.

How pathetic I had become! But I could only share those thoughts with myself. No one knew I had feelings for her, and I was going to deny it till the end, no matter what had JJ said. I couldn't take that phone call from my mind, and on those sleepless nights, I kept overthinking and overanalyzing everything.

I got into bed with a few books and my cup of herbal tea. I took a look at my cell phone, two new messages.

- "I miss u"

(Y/N) sent, and a warm feeling spread on my chest as I imagined her whispering those words as I read them

- "Breakfast tomorrow before work?"

- "See you at seven-thirty."

I typed and sent it.

What could ever happen if I told her how much in love I am with her? I would lose her, and I'd be alone. She didn't feel that way for me. It was a fact. I was just glad she was my best friend, and I could share everything with her. Was I pathetic? Yes, very, but in a way, it felt it was just all I deserved. Not more, not less. Just being in love with a girl who didn't love me back.

At least she wasn't dating Paul anymore. I hated that guy.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer was waiting for me outside our usual coffee shop, already holding two cups of coffee. His short hair looked dreamy as she smiled and took off his sunglasses. It had to be illegal being that hot. But, seriously, how didn't he get laid? He was fucking dreamy. In the four years we had been best friends, I saw Spencer in many hairstyles, and each of them made him look like a model.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid had been a process I hadn't actually been fully aware of. But I was completely conscious I needed to hide those feelings from him and from everybody at the BAU.

Ok, fine, I had somehow faced part of those feelings in front of my drunk best buddies at Penelope's house, but I never actually confirmed anything. I had just... shared some of my frustrations, I guess.

- "Good morning, honey bunny,"- I smiled and sighed as I stood in front of Spencer, watching him grin back at me and hand me one of the coffee cups.

- "Good morning, chipmunk. Did you get some rest?"

- "Yes, I fell asleep as soon as I reached my bed. I was exhausted."

- "I'm glad you are fully rested."

- "What did you do yesterday?"

- "Nothing,"- he answered quickly and turned around- "I got you a carrot muffin to go."

- "Thank you so much. I'm starving. I didn't even have dinner yesterday."

- "Really?"

- "I told you, I reached home and crawled into my bed."

We walked outside the coffee shop in silence. Spencer bit his donuts, and I ate my muffin. It was nice and calming being with him doing domestic things in life.

I hated how much in love I was with him 'cos I knew I had to shake that feeling away. He was never going to have feelings for me. I was a regular human being, and Spencer Walter Reid was a genius. He deserved better, he was actually never to think about me that way, and I refused to ruin our friendship with those feelings.

- "So, Comic-con is coming. What are we doing this year?"- I asked as I drove us to Quantico.

- "I was thinking we should do something classic,"- he looked at me, nearly beaming on his seat- "We haven't done Star Wars yet."

- "Really?"- I frowned, confused- "All these years? Are you sure?"

- "(Y/N), eidetic memory,"- he argued, and I chuckled- "So, how do you feel about Leia?"

- "Do I have to be Leia 'cos I'm a girl?"- I asked him, and he flustered right away.

- "What? No, you can be whoever you want to be. I was just, it came to my mind... I didn't,"- I giggled and looked at him for a second.

- "I'm messing with you, Batsy. I always wanted to dress as Leia. Surprisingly, I never had. Padme once, it was a mess, but never Leia. Who are you planning to be?"

- "Maybe Luke... or Obi-Wan. Morgan suggested C3PO once."

- "If I'm Leia, you should be Han,"- I don't know why I said that out loud. I thought about it, I pictured it in my head, but I knew I shouldn't have said it. Then why did those words leave my mouth? I don't know.

- "Han Solo... yes... yeah, sure. Of course! We can pick our outfits this weekend."

- "Great! What do you think would look better? Slave Leia or classic all in white Leia?"- Spencer didn't answer. He just sipped his coffee and looked outside the window.

- "You would look good in both,"- his cellphone interrupted our conversations, and I thought it might be a case. But I was so wrong, it hurt.

- "Hello? Oh, hi, Ashley,"- I nearly hit the break as soon as I heard him saying her name, but instead, I turned around and looked at him.

- "Good, yes. On my way to work with (Y/N). Oh, that's good."

I didn't care what she was saying. I just needed to know why that bitch was calling him. I was blind in jealousy, and I was having a hard time hiding it.

- "Really? Emily? That's... that's great. Sure, we'll see you around, gotta go. Bye."

- "What the fuck?"- I swear, I didn't think what I was saying. Those words just slip through my lips straight from my guts. I hated Seaver.

- "That was Ashley."

- "Figured when you said "Hi Ashley." What? Are you best friends with her now?"

- "What? No! No way! She just wanted to say hi... and... She.... asked for my number 'cos she wanted to help her with some of the academy's projects,"- Spencer was so nervous he actually stuttered as he answered my simple question.

- "Of course, she did,"- my voice was bitter and hurt, but most of all, ironic. And I don't know if Spencer didn't want to understand me or actually didn't get the hint, but he just continued talking.

- "She wanted to tell me she requested her remedial training be at the BAU."

- "What?!"- that wasn't subtle. I actually yelled- "I'm gonna have to see her again?"

- "If Hotch approves..."

- "Fuck!! That's awful!!"- I hit the wheel, frustrated.

- "She's not a bad person, (Y/N). Her dad was a murderer, but that doesn't mean..."- I turned to look at Spencer for a second, and he just shut up- "Sorry."

- "I don't like her, Spencer."

- "Yes, I know."

- "Her dad killed my aunt!!"

- "I know..."

- "And on top of that, that bitch is..."

I had to bite my lips and focus on the road, actually holding my breath for a few seconds, just not to open my mouth and ruin it all.

The main reason why I hated Ashley Seaver wasn't just because of what her father had done. That itself was enough to keep her away. But on top of that, she was flirting with Spencer. She wasn't even subtle about it; she was nearly all over him. I saw her! She wanted him, and he had no idea! He was blind to her attention. Unless he liked it. Did he? Shit, I hoped not.

- "She what?"- Spencer whispered, scared of my reaction.

- "She plays the pity card the whole time. Bad things happen to all of us. You don't have to make it who you are, she does, and she expects sympathy."

I grabbed my muffin and took a big bite of it. Spencer sighed and stayed quiet for a moment, giving me space to decompress, I think.

- "Did you know the origins of carrot cake are disputed by many countries?"- I looked at Spencer, and he nodded- "Many food historians believe carrot cake originated from the English recipe of carrot puddings, eaten by Europeans in the Middle Ages when sugar and sweeteners were expensive, and many people used carrots as a substitute for sugar."

- "My mom would fight all those historians and convince them she invented it. Her carrot cake is the best."

- "And I would agree, the cake she baked for your last birthday was amazing."- I nodded and heard him chuckle as I kept my eyes on the road. I wanted to focus on the memories of my last birthday and how fun it was, but something was bugging me.

- "And why did she call you to tell you what she wanted to do?"- I parked the car outside the BAU and turned to Spencer. He opened his mouth, but no word came from it. So I asked him again.

- "Honey, why did Seaver call you to announce she would take the remedial training at the BAU?"

- "It... might... had been my idea,"- he whispered and held his satchel tight against his body. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it.

- "Why on earth did you do that, Spencer?!"- I shouted as I got out of the car, grabbed my purse, my clean go bag in case we had a case, and started walking towards the building.

- "It wasn't like a suggestion. She just..."

- "I can't believe it!!"

- "It doesn't have to be that bad! It's just for a few weeks..."

- "Hopefully, Hotch won't accept."

- "(Y/N), come on,"- Spencer held my hand and stopped me- "This is not like you. Yeah, you don't like her, but you are making it a big deal, and it's not."

- "I'm starting to think you are crushed on her,"- I didn't want to say those words. They just slipped.

- "What!? Why? No!! I'm not!"- the high pitch on Spencer's voice was a clear sign of how uncomfortable he was with the conversation.

- "Then why are you defending her?"

- "I am not! I'm just saying maybe you are acting a little bit... irrational about this whole thing. She hasn't done anything bad."

- "Other than jeopardizing the whole case yesterday?"

- "Right, other than that..."

I felt Spencer's hand in mine, and I swear, I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt. It kept sending shivers all over my body. His thumb rubbed small circles on my skin, probably trying to calm me down, and it worked. I followed it with my eyes for a second as I took a few deep breaths and nodded.

- "Ok, I won't make a big deal if she stays."

- "Thank you."

- "Just... don't ask me to be her friend."

- "You don't have to be her friend."

Spencer stood in front of me and smiled. I swear all I could think of was kissing him. And a part of me felt it was getting harder and harder to resist. He put on his sunglasses and kept his hand in mine for a moment until Penelope's voice took us from our little bubble.

- "Good morning, my wonder babies!! Ready to fight crime?"

I actually didn't know what I was getting into.

Hotch had taken the day off. We were around the one-year anniversary of Haley's death, and according to what Rossi explained to us, Jack wasn't feeling so good. It was said it would be just a day or two, but I had the feeling it might be a couple of weeks. Hotch would always put himself second, but he would do whatever it took to keep him safe when it came to his son.

Morgan had been asked to take a trip to Petersburg Federal Correctional Complex to do a risk assessment on a case, so Spencer, Prentiss, and I were in the bullpen. Garcia was in her office, and Rossi was in a meeting with Strauss. I'd say it was a very calm morning, catching up with all the pending paperwork we had. Spencer had just gotten me a cup of coffee when I heard Seaver's cheerful voice.

- "Hi guys!"- she walked in with a big smile and waved- "How are you?"

Spencer looked at me as we all said our hellos. I could almost read "Please, be nice" written all over his face, and for a moment, I was willing to do as told. I didn't want him to suspect why I was so annoyed by her after all.

- "I talked to Hotch"- Emily smiled at Seaver and moved a chair for her- He signed off your remedial training, and I'll be your training agent. I'll supervise your work. I already told Rossi too, so it's official.

Ashley jumped from her chair and hugged Emily. I rolled my eyes and stared at the file on my desk. I really wasn't ready to deal with her. I wasn't prepared to deal with someone trying to steal Spencer from me.

Ok, Spencer wasn't mine to keep, but we had been inseparable for four years, and I didn't want to lose that. I didn't want to lose him.

I had never been ready to deal with Spencer dating other girls. The few times girls had hit on him had been awful. Once, Morgan took him to a club when we were on a case, 'cos the unsub was picking his victims there, and he taught him how to pick up girls. The bartender ended up giving him her number 'cos my dorky best friend was charming. Derek still remembered that moment from time to time, quoting it as "The day he turned Spencer into a man."

I loved Derek, but fuck, I hated him sometimes.

- "Welcome to the team,"- Spencer waved at Seaver from his desk and turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

- "Yeah, welcome,"- I added and cut her a short smile.

- "I'm thrilled to join you guys for a few weeks. I always dreamt of being here. I'm ready for making it up after the last case."

- "Don't be so hard on yourself,"- Prentiss interrupted her and smiled friendly- "You remained calm under pressure, and the case was solved. That's all that matters."

I had to control myself not to snort after Emily's words. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on my desk like I had done before. I was so focused on it that I could have actually developed telekinesis skills and moved the freaking file with my eyes.

- "I just wanted to say thank you to all of you,"- Seaver's voice was soft, in a mix of fear, excitement, and... something else I couldn't read.

- "Especially you, Spencer. I really enjoyed our talk last night, and I have the feeling I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Thank you for the pizza. I owe you dinner."

- "Don't, it was nothing,"- Spencer flustered and stood up quickly, grabbing his pile of files and walking away, arguing he needed to ask Garcia something.

I did my best not to move a muscle. I didn't want Seaver to know how much I hated the fact she had shared what seemed to be a lovely evening with Spencer. One he didn't actually mention when we talked about what we had done the previous evening. Why did he decide to keep me in the dark? I couldn't understand that. Maybe he just didn't want me to know he actually had feelings for Seaver. Maybe he had asked her out, and because he knew I hated her (though he really didn't know why), he decided not to tell me what was going on.

I had been wasting all that time in love with Spencer. I knew I would never act on those feelings, and clearly, he didn't have feelings for me. So... maybe it was time to let him go.

How could I let Spencer Reid go when I never actually had him?

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @fandomtrash2405

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 16th, 2021

[mde1011]

when i got into the dsmp i started a note and wrote down any quotes or moments i thought were funny, and im bored at 3 am so enjoy some of them

how is being arrested real? just walk away!!!”

⁃ “once an american always an american. go...go protests masks...or something”

⁃ “...yEAH BUT DID YOU HAVE WAP” “what’s...whats wap?” “...WORSHIP AND PRAYER”

⁃ “HOW DO YOU LIKE POLITICS MOTHERFUCKER”

⁃ “i’m naked” “...no you’re not” “i can be...”

⁃ “uhhhh i’m in a high stress situation....i deal with these poorly”

⁃ “i should go first i’m naked”

⁃ “yEAHHHH WE KILLED AN OLD MAN WITH HEART PROBLEMS”

⁃ “what are you going to do?” “i...have no idea i think i’m gonna start out by punching a tree”

⁃ “tOmmy...did i just hear you say shit ass looking mofo?”

⁃ “i aM gOinG to gEt nAkeD to iNtiMidAtE HiM”

- “...i want freedom !” “you want BALLS.”

⁃ “...down the line. yeah that’s where we discover the art of cannibalism” “oh it’s an art?” “it’s an art”

⁃ “oh there’s some logs here. wonder what they’re saying to me. uh huh. uh huh. oh yeah that’s very racist” “tommy you gotta burn those logs.” “burn ‘em before they spread their racism to other logs”

⁃ “are you pooing?” “*whisper* i’m charging up-““ “he’s ejaculating on the tent.” “he’s WHAT?”

⁃ “he’s sPEEDING. LOOK HOW FAST HES GOING” “i’ve taken so many drugs. someone tell badboyhalo”

⁃ “we should make a pact. and that pact is, uh, we make a book...and in that book...we declare that saying ‘muffin’ is a, is a slur”

⁃ “i was thinking what if one day your bladder just,,,,stopped working.....AGGGFFFFF i was tHINKING ABOUT THAT THE OTHER DAY IVE GOT TO PREPARE IVE GOT YO PREPARE thisiswhydiapersaintthatbad”

⁃ <sapnap> i think i was ordered to um

<tommyinnit> boobed

<sapnap> kill you

<tommyinnit> boobs

<sapnap> if this happens

<tommyinnit> think about boobs man

<sapnap> tsk tsk tommy

<tommyinnit> iM DISGRUNTLED

⁃ “why is this deadman so good at making drugs”

⁃ “i just learnt that a girl hero is called a heroine and it freaked me out”

⁃ “memento memento me-“ “that’s actually the worst word i know so you can’t keep saying that” “oh, really.....? have you ever heard the term ‘racist’?”

⁃ “the person who invented the phrase ‘be yourself’ hadn’t met you!”

⁃ “you seem like the type of guy whose dad would throw him overboard as a joke but he would just drown”

⁃ “shout out to dream for twerking!”

⁃ “let’s talk......let’s talk about sex” “wonderful. what do you think about sex, lazarbeam?” “i ain’t saying SHIT in front of a sixteen year old”

⁃ “what the- i think i’m seeing things” “....tommy i told you not to drink the sea water” “well i DID drink the sea water because it TOLD ME TO”

⁃ “it’s like the movie when that guy gets stranded on an island and has sex with a coconut” “whAT?? dream- dream, you vastly misinterpreted this” “it one hundred percent does”

⁃ “oh mastICATE.....isn’t that when a fish turns inside out?”

⁃ “what are some bad words YOU know, clay?” “i don’t-“ “what about ‘terrorist’?”

⁃ “my mind has to be on the same frequency as jesus when he walked on water”

⁃ “you wanna know why i was late?” “no i really do-“ “i was having a MASSIVE poo. really just a HUGE poo”

⁃ “jUST CUZ YOU TALK ABOUT POO ONCE AND THEN YOU SEE A BIG GREEN BASTARD AMD YOUR LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES AND THEN YOU CANT REMEMBER- YOU CANT REMEMBER IF IT WAS YESTERDAY OR TOMORROW YOU HURT THAT WOMAN”

⁃ “i love america. mmmmm patriotism

⁃ “LIFE IS NOT A HAPPY SONG KERMIT THE FROG”

⁃ “please stop taking the cock”

⁃ “two four six eight who do we appreciate? not the government let’s gooooooo”

⁃ “oooo look at the dogs😍” “wHAAAAAT. WHAT. THERES ACTUALLY LIKE. A MILLION DOGS HERE. WHAT THE HELL.”

⁃ “yeahhhhh bitch i stab- i don’t stab women-“ “woooooooah tommy you stab women?” “heyyyy sapnap”

⁃ “do you know what happens whne you reach the top of the ladder? there’s only one place to go.” “.....side to side😨” “down.” “...i really thought you were gonna say side to side🥺”

⁃ “one last time.” “just like in hamilton😓”

⁃ “you don’t know how many times i’ve mistaken trees for hot women”

⁃ “ i don’t feel better i just destroyed penis”

⁃ “i’ve never seen a snail with bad morals”

⁃ “awwwwwwww😢 i’m doin’ drugs🤧 just like the good ol’ days😓” “.....define the ‘good old days’” “back when i did drugs”

⁃ “have you ever fought a baby? i have and it was trivially easy to defeat, phil.”

⁃ “the only other i egg i know about was the one i learnt about in school....not allowed to say which one....”

⁃ “did you know one of my new years resolutions is to be more like 2010 justin bieber?”

⁃ “apparently cats don’t lay eggs”

⁃ “thinking about trees- if i saw a tree with a beard mmmmmm...holy shit id hit it”

⁃ “we’re in hell dude. science doesn’t matter here”

⁃ “i cant die i cant die i’m GOD”

⁃ “hey pig your letter is the same as pussy, hmm?”

⁃ “are we cool are we COOL guys? CRYSTAL COOL like CRYSTAL METH”

⁃ “he- he’s crying because - because i killed his mother isn’t that right? mother dearest mother deadest mother gonest”

⁃ “bro ive been drinking since i was six and let me tell you...it’s not good to be drinking that young. led to some poor life decisions when i was 8” “what did you do” “i cant say” “...who did you hurt” “....only myself”

⁃ “je suis” “ay i know what that mean you prick” “what does it mean” “it means you’re racist dickhead”

⁃ “i’d never poo in the presence of a women- which is why i’m scared to get a girlfriend i think i’d just explode”

⁃ “biff tannen is one of my idols”

⁃ “black widow died and i thought ‘wow it should’ve been the man’ because he’s a man”

⁃ “there’s a character called captain america and i think he’s stupid”

⁃ “i’m a GOOD LAD i’ve got GOOD MORALS and if i’ve DONE SOMETHING WRONG it WASNT MY FAULT I JUST GOT A LITTLE EXCITED”

⁃ “sam....what’s the longest you’ve ever wiped your arse? for me it’s 48 minutes”

⁃ “why are you standing in the shitter?” “....that’s a SINK” “uhhh welllll” “hAVE YOU SHAT IN THE SINK?????”

⁃ “you’re like a living ghost” “...i think that’s called a human, tubbo”

⁃ “maybe i accidentally kill ranboo and we just never see him again *laughs* ay? and then i go ‘april foooools!!!’ and then i kill their child. i kill him”

⁃ “you built a penis” “it’s a PENIS OF SAFETY”

⁃ “i saw the penis of safety and i pressed mouse button four my friend”

⁃ “the penis on the other side of the river is larger” “ive heard that before....”

⁃ “you’ve turned the penis into a wall” “a wall of safety is better than a penis of safety” “i think the penis was better”

⁃ “if you wanna make a penis i know where we can make a penis and i know how big we can make it”

⁃ “i don’t conceptualize death but i think i just saw it!”

⁃ “yeah i- yeah i know i’m- my first impression on eret was making him read a shrek fan fiction so- i’m not one for first impressions”

⁃ “i-i’m scared for him- i’m scared OF him. yknow the first thing he did when he saw me was imMEDIATELY strip down then jump off then immediately die?”

⁃ “where are you?” “getting stabbed, one second”

⁃ “you’ve seen the joker?” “yea-“ “i resonate a lot with that man” “...oH. oh. that’s- that’s not-“

⁃ “he bURNT DOWN MY HOUSE” “out of LOVE”

⁃ “ohhhh my god stop making me play with the neighbor kid” “o-okay if you don’t go play with him i’m kicking you out of the house-“ “wHAT THE FUCK???”

⁃ “there’s a STRIP CLUB” “oh yeah for wood!” “are you into strippers?” “i mean all it does is make the wood look different so....yeah it doesn’t really do much”

⁃ “no no we have categories, we have the poo-saster- you might have to take a shower after-“ “no, no i’m gonna stop you right there”

⁃ “as i was saying you can have a 1-to-3 wiper, that’s an A-tier poo, my friend”

⁃ “i want you to eat your sock”

⁃ “you know i’m a child- i’m a minor” “sO AM I DICKHEAD”

⁃ “everyone is calling you dresus” “yeah i am”

⁃ “ayyyy ayyyy los DROGAS LOS DROGAS” “no no big q- she’s thirteen- how does this happen with every 13 year old girl you meet?”

⁃ “my poo has muscles like i do”

⁃ “i cant hear the words among us without crying they’ll say there are aliens among us and in the back youll just hear me *choking noises*”

⁃ “tubbo...tubbo is like...tubbo is like mary” “.....did you just call me the Virgin Mary?”

⁃ “i’m just saying, have you ever seen me and jesus in the same room?”

⁃ “do you smoke sam” “all the time”

⁃ “i thought you were talking about the- the speeeeed drug”

⁃ “have you ever sold drugs to kids sam?” “......no”

⁃ “we can’t let the girlboss rule because she will gatekeepe my feelings” “that would not be good”

⁃ “THEY DIDNT INVITE ME TO KILL ME???? NOW I HAVE FOMO”

⁃ “you have obviously taken part in scientology-“ “i have not-“ “you’ve donated to tom cruises cult shit”

⁃ “....am i worse than david dobrik?” “are- are we worse than david dobrik?” “oh- oh god”

⁃ “he has broke one of the rules of the hit best seller ‘the bible’- this kind of looks like a cock”

⁃ “well i’ve moved now, KING”

⁃ “what is an angsty teen and am i one? because when i USED to hang out with my friends they use the word angst a lot”

⁃ “yeah yeah yeah i bench”

⁃ “sam i think i’m angsty i think i’m an angsty tik tok teen looking for a community to help me out”

⁃ “i don’t think you’ve followed the train of logic all the way-“ “there’s a TRAIN INVOLVED????????”

⁃ “i’m like the orange fucker from that animated rom com”

⁃ “i’m under the influence of big cock”

⁃ “it’s meeee big cock man”

⁃ “i cant look away” “sam please use your twitter alt for this” “he’s horny on maaaainnnnn” “and what’s wrong with that?” “.......”

⁃ “you’re a FUCKING IDIOT” “IM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT, BIG COCK”

⁃ “i’m gonna call you ‘cockity’ big cock” “sHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP-“

⁃ “STOP LOOKING AT IT” “ITS SO VIBRANT”

⁃ “at least this guy doesn’t have a cock-“ “itS NOT A COCK” “horny on main jesus-“

⁃ “is that a cock” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

⁃ “.....i wanna see the inside of it again do a split”

⁃ “okay sam-“ “tommy that guy wants your cock-“ “no- no he doesn’t sam”

⁃ “sam, sam and i need you to hear this....dont. act. up.” “i don’t act up-“ “you were acting up-“ “i-“ “you were caught in 8k.” “but- but we both agree it’s not a tie-“

⁃ “please don’t tell me to kill cockity i am overwhelmed”

⁃ “why is there an anus in my tie?”

⁃ “what are the legal implications of this?” “...i mean besides hell you’re good”

⁃ “whatre the legal implications?” “i mean usually that’s a no-no but today, today it’s fine” “yeahhh lets go murder his family”

⁃ “i’d be an antivax landlord”

⁃ “jesus never does drugs” “well- well you turned water into wine king and wine is alcohol”

⁃ “can you put on pants i can’t- i cant stop looking at it- sorry tommy i know you said-“ “yeah sam i know you tried-“

⁃ “you know i fuck with satan”

⁃ “i’m sorry jesus lucifer is just such a good man-“ “oh you- hold me BACK FROM THIS FUCKER HOLD ME BACK ILL SEND HIM TO HELL YOU LIKE HELL-“

⁃ “are you jesus or just a man who grew a beard and put on a suit?”

⁃ “even the guy with his cock out is telling you to stop-“ “oh jesus, and i mean jesus-“ “shUT THE FUCK UP MAN”

⁃ “the best best way to slander him is to stop his offspring; we need to kick him the balls.....no? not a good....? alright us four each take a ball-“

⁃ “......why did jesus give him four scrotums man🙁🙁”