#i haven’t felt like the panic I associate with a new person in my life lol

[notveryshrugemoji]

I just caught myself smiling at my phone and I was like “meg the stallion would not approve of this behaviour. knock it off.” lol

#he’s from New Zealand and like I dunno but he wants to go camping and thinks I’m cool #actually scratch all of that #all of those things are true and also #i haven’t felt like the panic I associate with a new person in my life lol #friend or otherwise there’s this weird period where I’m just like fucking batty and paranoid lol #the jokes honestly write themselves I am a trope it’s so boring #like girlie it’s a disorganized attachment style pull it together lol #but that panic feeling isn’t there and maybe that’s him or maybe that’s the personal work I’ve done #anyway I love talking shit about dating here it’s the only place I share EVERYTHING hahahhahaha #like my sister knows less than you guys that’s wild lol #anyway love ya the most kisses!!!!

[alice-angel12x]

Death is always around the Corner

Idia + Death!Reader+ Ö̵̗̭͙̠͍̙̬̦̬̺͙̻̻̰̮́͌̈́͑̅̉̉͆̄̓̉̒͝͝ͅř̵̡̨̡̞̦̩̰͖͚͕͙́̑̎̆̏̐͂̀́͒̿͆̆̆̀̿̐̀͂͊̀͑́̅̈́̚t̴̛̛͖͚͑̽͑̓͋̒̈̈́̀̔́̌͒̆͘͝͠ẖ̵͚̦̫̫̻͔̤͚̺̬̗̥͇̾̈͐̎̿̊̋̄̉͑̅͑̊̊̍́̿̚ͅơ̵̛̹̯̤̟̔̍̋͗͗̾͆̒̏̋̉͐͛̿͆̇̈͆̈́̈́̔͝͠

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Iida, Malleus

Masterlist

Let's set the scene:

So it was finally that time again, I will not let you get in the way of my work Shroud. The shroud company, through blessing or curse from Hades. Made it very difficult to find the Isle of woe to be by mortals, or Death itself. Memories from times of old began to resurface.

" Look at this cute little pie. We would like to thank you all for the gifts on behalf of our son," Zeus smiled. " Oh, so precious. How absolutely heart-warming. I haven’t felt this choked up since I got some moussaka stuck in my throat," Hades said, trying to make a joke. "Don’t look so glum, chum. Come and join the celebrations!" Zeus invited. " I’d love to, but unfortunately, I can’t leave my post thanks to the work you graciously “bestowed” upon me. Love to stay, but sadly can’t!" Hades said as he backed away. "Come now, you’ll work yourself to death!NGet it? To death! I could kill myself laughing!" Zeus laughed as the rest of the party joined him. " Ugh, if only…!" Hades scoffed to himself.

As Hades returned to the underworld, his two minions Pain and Panic came running with news.

"BOSS! BOSS!" Panic cried out.

"What! What is it!? I am Not in the mood," Hades scowled.

"T-T-The Boss! The Big Boss is back!" the two screamed.

"After all this time, this could be a great opportunity," Hades smirked.

The God quickly made his way to a simply room that belonged to the one and only, Death. The room was simple, it had one throne that was placed by the window. That over looked the river of Souls.

"Hey, Death! The Big Boss, Head honcho, Top dog! How've yeah been?" Hades greeted his long time boss and friend. "How was the travel, travel good brought souvenir?"

"Hmm, oh. Hello Hades," Death greeted, snapped out of their thoughts. "You needed something?"

"So I have plans for Mayhem, your favorite," Hades smirked as he went on to explain his plans.

But he noticed that something was different about his underworld friend. The bloodthirst chaos loving friend was not present, instead this sad and mellow person sat before him.

"Um Who are you and you know what happened to Death?" Hades asked.

"Just a new perspective I guess. As for your plan. If that's what you really want I won't stop you, though I'm afraid I will not join you," Death said calmly.

"Okay, no seriously what happened to you. What happened to the King/Queen of terror and dread?" Hades asked.

"I guess like you I'm also tired of ruling the dead and this place," Death sighed as they looked back at the underworld.

__________________

Death would be confided Hades. The only other high being that would associate with them. Even if they were never Hade's first choice.

But Death told Hades about the many changes to come. Like how they plan to eventually get rid of the underworld. Their symbol and trophy to rub into Life's face of their power over said, god.

Hades did not like this much. But he was confident he would take over Olympus before that would happen. But of course, things didn't go that way.

So as not to lose anything else, using the last of his power to hide the remaining piece of the underworld and a few mortal followers. Becoming the Isle of woe.

__________________

Y/n knew that this next series of events might be the only chance to find this isle of Woe. At least for a long time.

So in the middle of the night, Y/n woke Jamil and asked for his assistance.

Y/n informed Jamil what was about to go down in the morning. So they gave Jamil an enchanted necklace to hide him in plain sight. While they took on his form and be captured in his stead.

Jamil agreed to this since he doesn't like the thought of being dragged off to possibly be never seen again.

________________

~~SNAP! SNAP! CRACK! SNAP!!~~

" What are those!? They’re all flying in the sky with their– Wait, are those hoverboards!?"Kalim gasped.

"What in the world…!? Unless there are events, the school is supposed to be protected with a magical ward to keep intruders away," Vil said in a slightly nervous tone.

"No, the Barrior is breaking," 'Jamil' said.

"They’re heading this way. One, two… Incoming! Take cover, everyone!" Rook said to everyone.

"Jamil" quickly raised a shield to protect everyone from the debris and robots falling from a ceiling.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" Deuce asked as he helped "y/n" stand up.

"This is the Hepta Unit. We have visuals on Subjects D and E. Beginning Detainment Maneuvers," The bots said.

" I do not know who you are, but it is absolutely impolite to be barging in through windows! I will acknowledge this as an emergency! On my authority as the Pomefiore Prefect, you are all given permission to use magic against these intruders!" Vil said.

"Wait! Vil, I need you to think carefully," 'Jamil' said quickly. " We are outnumbered, and most of the students here are rookie wizards. You Rook, and maybe myself can last a while, but the first years."

Vil scowled as he realized Jamil's assessment was right, and they would risk a lot if they fight.

"Then what do you recommend we do?" Vil glared but gasped as he watched Jamil raise his arms and surrendered.

" What!?" Everyone gasped.

" They are only after us. If we don't resist no one will get hurt," Jamil said simply, Vil sighed in frustration as he slowly raised his hands.

_______________________________________

As the fiery robotic men loaded the overblot boys into the airship, "Jamil" gave one final look back to the school. Only to see the VDC group running in the distance, trying to reach them in time.

"Jamil" smiled warmly as the airship door began to close. My heart warmed that mortals were trying to save them-... No, save Jamil.

But It was a long Flight, and the most "Jamil" could do was let Riddle rest on their lap. When the boy woke up, he was a bit startled. But "Jamil" Was quick to comfort the boy.

But Azul quickly pointed out that "Jamil" was acting strange. So Y/n decided to let them in on the plan a bit.

So "Jamil " explained how the Isle of Woe is the only place in the world that is hidden from the eyes of Death. It is also the place where many blot monsters are stored.

The boys asked why death would care so much about Blot monsters. With "Jamil" would explain that when a person overblots, for a time they will be joined by a blot phantom.

But eventually, the phantom will consume the victim and store the person's soul deep within it. Leaving the soul in perpetual torment, till the Phantom is destroyed.

-----------------------------------------------

"And you know this how?" Leona glared.

"Cause they told me. So in my plans to get into better standing and redemption. I am willingly being their eyes, and beckon for them to track down," Jamil smirked.

"So that's why you didn't want to fight, Y/n wanted this to happen," Vil sighed in annoyance.

"They also wanted no one to get hurt," Jamil snapped back.

"So how long must we wait for Y/n to rescue us?" Azul asked nervesly.

"Only Time will decide," Jamil said.

"Umm don't you mean 'Only time can tell' ?" Riddle asked.

"No," Jamil said simply.

"So these robots are from the Isle of Woe?" Vil asked.

"They’re S.T.Y.X’s special security unit, Charon. It’s their job to capture magicians who have Overblotted so they could be transported to the Island of Woe," Leona explained, then smirked. " But the fact that not even Y/n can find this place must be a blow to their ego. Score one for mortals."

"I think you mean score one for Hades," Jamil said as he went on to explain the story of Hades, Death, and the Underworld.

Apparently, the story was so Gripping and engaging, the 4-hour flight was over in a flash. They have arrived on the Isle of Woe, with Idia there to greet them. But as soon as Jamil stepped off the airship a wave of cries and howls filled their ears, the sounds that went unheard by everyone else.

"̶w̷҉̧h͘͟y͜͝͏ h͘a͏̵v͢e̸ ̡̀͝y̡o͏u̵͠ ̛̀f̷̨͢o͜r̴̕͜s̷̢a̧͝͏k̷͠en͏̷ ͟u̧̨s̕͡,̡ ͡d͢ea̢͠͡th͟

"̴̕P̸͞l̸͝e̷͡a͝s̵͘ȩ̷,̷͢ ͟w̸̡h̸͡ȩ͏r̵e̛ ̵͝a̶̡re̷͟͞ ̸̡y̸͜o̴u̷͝ ́͞D̵̛͠e͏̀a̴t̢́̀h̷͟?̴͘͠!̡͟"͢

"̡̀͘S͘om̛̀e̸͘o͘n̶̨͜e ͘͟Pl̵e̸̶a̧ś̷̶e ̕͟͜S͢҉a͞v̸e͞ ͏̷M̷͢͝é͢͝!̢͢!̨̕"҉

The voices cried out, it was so overwhelming Y/n almost dropped their disguise. But they composed themselves and held back their tears.

As Idia put the boys through many tests, he noticed something strange about Jamil's vitals. That he didn't have any vitals or basic signs of life. Before Idia could pull Jamil aside for questioning, he was locked in the meeting room with the rest of the NRC boys.

________________________________

Idia began to question Jamil, but he didn't really answer any of the questions. Till ortho pointed out that Jamil had no body heat. So seeing no need to hide, they dropped the illusion.

Revealing Death.

Idia began to panic as he quickly stood, but before calling for hade's level to shut down. His calling device suddenly shut down from low power, and the same with some of Ortho's functions.

Y/n sat down confidently as Idia trembled in his boots, and the others sat in awe and confusion. Vil was just frustrated that he was tricked so easily.

"Y-you can't be here! The Isle of Woe is supposed to be hidden from you?!" Idia panicked.

"You can only hide from death for so long," Y/n said simply as they rested their elbows on the table.

"W-why are you here?" Idia asked slowly.

"I'm here to collect all the souls in Tartarus," Y/n said simply.

"This isn't the underworld, there are no souls to collect," Idia glared.

"That is untrue. Phantoms hold the souls of their victims and those it slaughters. I am here to collect them," Y/n said.

"but that would mean you will destroy the phantoms. But we need them to study and find a way to stop blot," Idia reasoned.

"Those 10,000 and more souls have been suffering for thousands of years. I think it's time to give them an out," Y/n replied as they stood up.

"Demands here, demands there… This isn’t a zoo, damn it. Did you forget what I said earlier? Don’t make me repeat myself again… I!!! AM!!! THE!!! BOSS!!!" Idia shouted as stood in front of Y/n, blocking their path.

"HAHAHAHAHA!!" Y/n laughed, so much so that they had to lean against the table to support themselves. "You almost remind me of Hades. But no Your not my boss, and are you okay with keeping Ortho the first in Tartarus, to suffer till the end of time? You made a machine of him, so why not let the real one go?"

Idia froze as Y/n bore into his soul when suddenly the power went out as the room went dark.

______________________________________________

Things just did not get better, as Y/n learned that Rook and Epel had tracked them down. And the blot phantoms had felt the presence of their doom. So in one last desperate attempt, they manipulated the bot Ortho. To Get Idia down to them.

With this, the isle of woe went into Chaos. The NRC boys went to go collect the thunder staff, but thanks to Y/n there were little to no phantoms standing in their way.

Y/n, in a blink of an eye, was making quick work of the phantom. Ortho was not happy about the lack of challenge to the NRC boys.

But eventually, The boy manages to push the final phantom back to Tartarus. The phantom using Ortho's voice cried out to Idia.

Idia jumped to follow his "brother" to Tartarus, but Y/n in one clean motion slayed the phantom.

______________________________________________

As Idia's memories and regrets flashed in his mind, he slowly opened his eyes to find himself in the void. As he sat up, he heard a familiar voice in the distance, he turned to See Ortho. He was sitting on death's lap as the two were talking when Ortho noticed Idia. Death helped ortho to his feet as Ortho ran to Idia and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you for looking out for me. You’ve made me so happy. But, you can’t be here yet, Big Brother," Ortho said.

"Ortho… Why? I want to go with you. We made a promise, didn’t we? And You," Idia turned to Death. " Why did you save me, I just wanted to follow Ortho."

"Because Ortho and I believe it's not your time yet," Y/n answered.

"You still have comics to read, concerts to watch, and new games to play, don’t you…? You love this world too much to give up on it completely," Ortho added.

"What!? Who said I loved this rotten world!? All that nonsense can just disappear!" Idia said as he began to tremble.

"Not everything has to make sense. You shouldn’t have to give up on anything ever again. You have your future ahead of you, Big Brother.  You see, I want you to fulfill the dreams we talked about that day," Ortho smiled.

"Our Dream?" Idia asked.

"I’m sure it will take a long time. You might feel like giving up along the way, but… I know… I’m sure you can go anywhere, Brother. It may be long and tiring, but you’ll get there someday. It’s okay. I’ll be right there with you always. Please, don’t give up," Ortho said as he gave one last squeeze of a hug. He slowly let go of Idia and turned to Death. "Okay, I'm ready to go now."

"Wait, Ortho! Death Please Don't Take Him?!" Idia begged as he watched Ortho grab Y/n's hand.

"Actually I have something special for you, and I want Idia to be there. But he needs to wake up first," Y/n explained.

"Really, I can't wait. Hurry and wake up big brother," Ortho said.

________________________________________

When Idia came to, standing over him was Y/n and some old man. Who was actually Vil? Idia shyly apologized to everyone and said he would probably never return to school.

But Grim and everyone else was not going to let him off easy, telling him to fix ramshackle at least. But the group was spooked to see the ghost of ortho next to Y/n.

"Well before you do anything else I will need you to come with me Idia," Y/n said as ortho grabbed their hand.

"H-huh W-why?" Idia asked.

"To accompany ortho and me when we go to see someone important. And I think Vil will need to come too," Y/n sighed.

"Why am I needed?" old man vil asked.

"To help with your situation," Y/n said. "And the rest of you are free to go back to the school, we will catch up."

"W-wait where are you going?" Epel asked.

"And where is this important person?" Riddle asked.

"In the void between dimensions and the worlds," Y/n answered simply.

"Who could you possibly be taking them to?" Azul asked.

"Life," Y/n smiled

______________________________________________

To be continued...

#twisted wonderland #Falling Pegasus answers #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #death!reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud #ortho shroud #idia x reader

[moved-to-cinnamon-phrog]

hii, anon with the yellow guy f/o here again to talk about him!!

I'm actually very new to dhmis, but I was immediately drawn to yellow. Upon watching the YouTube series and the show I started looking into the fandom a bit. The amount of people that have the hc that yellow is a child lowkey freaked me out at first because I thought it was somehow canon. (Nothing against that hc though it's just not for me!) I'm definitely not into any of that pr0shipper stuff so I had to do a bit of research.

After resolving the initial panic I decided to get into self shipping and have yellow guy as my first official f/o! I've known about self shipping for a while, but hadn't had the bravery to try it. I found that it makes me really happy especially since my DHMIS hyperfixation has hit me harder than any other fandom has in a longg time!

The amount of constant inspiration and energy thinking about yellow guy has given me is insane!! He's gotten me back into drawing after a huge break from it because I'm just so in love with him that I have to translate those thoughts into art. I have so much art of yellow saved to my phone cuz there are so many talented people in this fandom and I love seeing how they interpret him!

It's so nice to see someone who also has yellow as an f/o and I would be so so happy to hear you talk about him as well!!!

ASDFGHJKIUYTREWQEFGVCBNVCVBN!!!!!!! HI ANON!!!!!!

Sorry for such a late reply, I was trying to conjure up any kind of coherent sentence in my head because I am SO happy for you and to be able to talk to someone who also has Yellow as an F/O.

I haven’t been in this fandom for long, either. Only a week from a year. Which is crazy, because it feels like only yesterday I was subjected to this crazy, sopping puppet man and yet I feel like I’ve known him my whole life.

ALSO YOUR ART!!!! I BET IT’S AMAZING!!!!!!!

He’s given me SO MUCH drawing inspiration as well, most of my sketchbook is at least 70% Yellow asdfghsdfgxcvbcvb

I love him, and for once I don’t once feel pained over it.

Every other person I’ve loved, fictional and real, just felt… hollow. I always felt detached and empty and had no real comfort. Most made me feel worse.

But, with Yellow, things feel better. Things feel fuller. Brighter, even. I always tried to associate my past crushes with sunlight, but it never really fit them.

But it does with Yellow. Because he literally is sunlight. The vibrant colour of it, the warm softness of it, even the violent blaze of it.

And I’m glad he makes you feel a similar way, really.

[annacantdie]

written 5/22/22

The year I was fifteen was easily the worst year of my life. To be fair, I am young, so I don't have a lot of competition between the other 9 or 10 years I can actually remember, but it was traumatic nonetheless. I like to describe my life in ways that diminish the things that have happened to me. A mindset portrayed by hollow phrases such as “life just dealt me a shitty hand of cards”, and “i make the best of what i’ve been given” Those describing my generally dissatisfying life in a nonchalant way, but the way i’ve coped with my hardships has been anything but nonchalant.

I frequently wonder what I'd say to my fifteen year old self if I was given the opportunity to have a conversation with her. She was a troubled shadow of the person I am now, and while I'm in no way completely stable or healed of that girl I was, I think that my younger counterpart would be surprised at how far I’ve come. When i was fifteen i attempted suicide. That statement has been so ingrained into my speech, between having to explain to doctors, therapists, mentors, and friends, it does not feel like any sort of a big deal. Everybody goes through rough patches, my brain repeats, why would mine be any different? These statements heavily downplay the intensity of every emotion I felt at that period of my life. Every single feeling was heightened to an intense degree. A happy moment with a friend didn’t give me a comforting sense of joy, it gave me a manic state of excitement. A snappy moment from a parent didn't give me a quick sting to be shaken off, it sent me into a panic attack. I was far from but the mellow persona i’ve adapted now, I was an ticking time bomb simply waiting to go off at any moment. So many things had built up inside of me, I was absolutely unstable, and I truly couldn’t see a future where I wasn’t dead. I had no desire to be alive, and that statement isn’t said lightly. I genuinely lost my will to live, and the intrusive self harming thoughts that had haunted me ever since I could remember were becoming far more actual considerations for me than far off ideas driven by random emotional situations. I’d grown up always thinking I'd be better off dead, even happier dead, but those thoughts stayed locked away in a nightmarish area of my consciousness, never at the forefront where ideas were actually given a sense of consideration. Then, as was probably expected, I made the decision to end my own life. I attempted, failed, and woke up in the morning disappointed. But, unsurprisingly as the extremely depressed person I was at that time, I was not willing to put in the effort to come up with a new idea to try again. I could barely force myself to get out of bed to pee, I wasn’t about to come up with an intricate plan to take my own life after my first one didn’t work.

So, with the contextual nonsense out of the way, I think I've figured out an idea of what’d I’d say to that deeply troubled girl, and while I can’t present this to her, I might as well put it out there. Hopefully it’ll heal that part of me that's still that broken fourteen year old girl, or maybe it’ll help someone else. I don’t really care which.

Hey man, how are ya? Not well, I know, I was there. Literally. I don’t fucking know if this will help, like at all, but I wanna tell you all the things that get better. SO much of the shit that feels like it's suffocating you right now works out, and while things haven’t made it to perfection yet, as of now at least, there’s a much higher level of breathing room two years from where you're at now, I promise.

Let’s start out with the lighthearted stuff, you've got a killer haircut right now. You learned how to make your natural hair look insanely good, and you have the coolest shaggy, curly, healthy head of hair ever. And you got bangs, they look amazing. To top it off you finally learned to dress the way you want, and people finally associate you with having good style, just like you’ve always wanted. You still listen to the same music, but you've found so much other cool new shit that gets you through the day better than anything else can, and you still love to draw more than anything else in this world. You've got three amazing best friends, a plethora of other cronies, and a boyfriend you're absolutely head over heels for. Mom finally loosens up and you've got a phone with every social media your heart could want, completely unmonitored. And finally you’re comfortable with your sexuality and are generally out as a queer person. While there's so many more little things that I think you’d enjoy to hear, I feel like with those more significant ones out of the way we should address the elephant in the room.

We’re alive. Crazy, right?

I know that if you had to put everything you owned on it, you’d bet you’d be dead by seventeen. But look at where you are now! I know you well, you are me after all, and so I'm aware it is not comforting to you for me to sing your praises, to say how proud I am of you, I know it only makes you feel like shit. That pathetic feeling where people praise you for accomplishments, the ones that while are monumental for you would not be monumental for the average person, doesn't go away, but hopefully it’ll mean a little something coming from your future self. I’m proud of you. Of us. Of me. The road ahead of you is difficult, and does not come without challenge, new and old, but you kill it. Never does it become easy, you will struggle, you will scream, you will cry, and you will consider a take two on the whole death by your own hand thing, but you keep your head up. With every piece of shit that fucks you over, every freak of nature type accident that absolutley screws up your wellbeing, and every good person that unintentionally hurts you, you keep on walking. Sometimes you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get through it, and sometimes a kind soul offers a hand. Life doesn’t get easier per say, but by god you get good at getting through it. Keep up the good work, stay stubborn, and stay driven. It’ll help you more than you know.

That's all for now I guess, I hope that provides you some sort of comfort, and I can't wait for you to fully experience the person you're growing to be.

L8R SK8R

Best wishes,

Anna-Claire Chupp

[popi-the-fatui]

CHILDE BF HCs

(that no one asked for but here they are anyways)

A/N: this man needs some luv. Long post, there is a whole iceberg under the “read more”. Also, I tried to keep a Gender Neutral reader so pls DM me if there are any mistakes!!

TW: DESCRIPTION OF AN ANXIETY ATTACK, SPOILERS FOR THE REX LAPIS QUEST AND CHILDE’S PAST, a little bit of angst

🐋 Let’s bust some myths first: contrary to popular belief, Childe has no experience at relationships or intimacy at all. Non. Cero. The Venn diagram of romantic/intimate stuff and things Childe has done is a void. But it’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that he hasn’t had the time to experience any of these things because he is a busy man: between fighting, training and being a Harbinger, there is not a minute left for him to indulge in other things. 

🐋 The problem with this is that Tartaglia is a people’s person. He WANTS to be able to have someone that he can do these things with. At the end of the day, when he comes home tired after a mission, all he wants is someone to be waiting for him with cuddles, hugs, kisses, reassurance, caresses, or just a simple “how did your day go?” Because of this, he has a lot of pent-up love that he has not been able to give. 

🐋 In that note, he is also incredibly touch-starved: not only does he want someone to give that love to, but Childe also craves to receive it. When was the last time he was touched by someone in a context that was not a fight? He loves fighting, obviously: he has trained for a big part of his life to be able to defeat everything and everyone. But he is also just a human, and there are limits to how long a person can go without a loving touch. 

🐋 So when he finally falls victim to the first signs of infatuation, this poor whale man will have an internal battle: do I reach for them? Would they be better off if they never meet me? Will they accept me? Has my reputation already ruined this for me before it even began? How do I approach them? Do I look presentable? Am I going to scare them away? Childe will be torn between wanting to protect you from himself (as the Fatui business is not an easy pill to swallow for everyone) and protect himself from you (his heart would not handle rejection/disgust very well), and wanting to KISS YOU AND HUG YOU AND KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU BECAUSE ARGH WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO ADORABLE.

🐋 So he finally decides to compromise between these two stances, and let YOU decide whether you want him as a friend, a lover or a stranger. He starts greeting you whenever he sees you in the streets, subtly asking if you would like him to join you in your commissions, inviting you for lunch/dinner after a mission so you can recharge your energy, asking if you want to go and share drinks with him and Zhongli. You know, friendly stuff friends do. And he doesn’t even try to hide the happy smile that escapes him whenever you say yes to him: when it comes to you, there is nothing he needs to hide. Well, except for that one thing. 

🐋 He knows that you know he is somehow associated with the Fatui, if his constant trips to the Northland Bank aren’t enough to tell. Usually, Childe dislikes going around things as he much rather hit straight to the point (being the point a fight, a deal or just a simple conversation). But he has grown so addicted to the sensations you make him feel that he can’t help but to try to postpone that tiny little detail about himself for later. He has never had anyone who genuinely wants to spend time with him and that can keep up with him. Childe knows he can be quite intense and that rumors about him aren’t really rumors but WARNINGS, and to finally have someone, even if you’re just friends, that is actively trying to get to know the real him means so much, and he doesn’t want to let that go as selfish as he knows it is because there’s a chance you could get hurt (emotionally and physically). 

🐋 Unfortunately for him, everything that goes up must go down, and that fateful day comes when his plans to take Rex Lapis’ Gnosis blows back to him. After that brief, tense conversation with La Signora and Zhongli, Childe’s ego can’t be any lower: it’s not often that he loses, and much less often that he loses while feeling like a fool. He wants to scream, fight, punch, kick. Anything to take out the impotence and anger he is feeling right now. 

🐋 You found him in this state while you were looking for him to see if he was alright because a WHOLE ASS PALACE JUST FELL FROM THE SKY and you’re very concerned for him as you haven’t had any news directly from him and all you know is that apparently Childe was the cause of it?

🐋 As soon as he sees you, his blood-lust disappears and he no longer wants to fight something: he wants to cry from shame. Shame at being found in this state. Shame at failing. Shame at what you would think of him now that the cat’s out of the bag because from the look in your face is EVIDENT that now you know how far his relationship with the Fatui goes. 

🐋 He falls to the ground, tears finally coming out and he is crying ugly sobs while hiccuping nonsense about how he is a weak, pathetic, disgusting failure and it’s not fair it’s not FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR IT’S NOT-

🐋 “Look at me” you softly call to him, but he is panicking and hyperventilating and not responding to anything that’s outside of his head, so you decide to sit on your knees in front of him, gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing his tears away with your thumbs. 

🐋 “Childe, look at me. Please?” You try again, carefulness in your tone as to not startle him. And when he finally reacts and looks up, you don’t see Tartaglia the 11th Harbinger, nor Childe the fatui flirt. All you see is a broken man that carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, exhausted from constantly fighting against everything the world has thrown at him, and your heart aches for him and wonders how long this man has suffered alone, how long has he suffered in silence. 

🐋 “It’s okay, Childe. You’re okay. Can you breathe for me?” You position yourself behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing circles with your fingers to further calm him. “Breath with me, yeah just like that. Now hold it for a bit and then release it. Keep going, I’ll do it with you. I’m here”

🐋 Childe finds himself finding it easier to breathe with each inhale and exhale, and when he is finally going down from his high, catharsis hits him HARD. Is this what he has been missing all of his life? Is releasing all that pent-up frustration supposed to feel this good? And he feels a little selfish, because he knows he doesn’t deserve your comfort after the stunt he pulled, but Childe can’t help but become putty under your tender touches and your soft words, and he wishes for a different context, for a different past in which he never fell into the abyss, never joined the Fatui, never felt that the only way to survive was to fight. Instead, he wishes for a past in which he is traveling because he wants to, and he meets you, and he courts you and makes your cheeks heat up at something he said. And you are not touching him because he had a panic crisis that he himself caused. No, he imagines the both of you after a dinner date in Liyue. The sky is dark and the stars are shining but the streets are still full of people laughing and talking and the light from the lamps are reflecting beautifully in your hair. You are walking near the harbor, and you are holding his hand and he is giving you a kiss on your forehead because he can’t help himself. In another life, he would have found you and loved you the way you deserve and the way he needs. 

🐋 But he knows that now is too late, and all he has left is a mind full of regret because he did, in fact, hurt you. How could you trust him after this? How could you WANT him after this? So imagine his surprise when the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a soft “Are you ok now, Childe?”

🐋 “I- how- what?” He mutters in disbelief. Why are YOU asking HIM that? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

🐋 “You had me very worried back there. I thought you would stop breathing at any moment. You are not hurt, are you?”

🐋 And he laughs. A high-pitched, almost maniac laugh. “You know I was the cause of all of…” he says, moving his arms to signal, well, everywhere “...this, right? I believe you now must know what my real business in Liyue was, and that I’m not just some random Fatui officer”

🐋 “Well… I kind of suspected it? How many ‘random Fatui officers’ are carrying a Vision, huge amounts of Mora and have so many ‘meetings’ at the Northland Bank with the Qixing themselves? I mean, I didn’t know you were a Harbinger, but I did know that you were a higher up in the organization. I’m not dumb, you know?” you answer light-heartedly. 

🐋 “Then why would you keep hanging out with me? If you knew all of that, then you for sure must have known that people tend to keep me in a ‘do not trust’ list. People are wary around me, and they should! If you knew of the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve DONE. The reputation surrounding the Fatui, especially the Harbingers, wasn’t built on nothing, you know?”

🐋 “Don’t get me wrong. I do have somewhat of an idea of the things you do for a living. And let me be clear: I certainly do not condone it. And to be honest, I know that things between us would be easier if you weren’t a Fatui and I actually wish you weren’t one” you can feel how his whole body deflated at that, and even if you are sitting behind him, you just know he has a pout on his face, so you resolve for hugging him from behind and rest the side of your face between his shoulder blades, and continue. 

🐋 “But in the past weeks, I also had the opportunity to get to know you. Not Fatui you. But human you. I know that you have a family that you love very much and you do everything in your power to protect them. I know that you haven’t had it easy, and that some scars you have still hurt. I know that you absolutely can’t eat with chopsticks, but your pride refuses to give up and you try anyway. I know that you’re a passionate man that holds his dearest people close to his heart. I know that you hate when I’m sad so you’re willing to make a fool of yourself if that means I’ll end up laughing. I know how you wait outside of my building until my window lights up after you get me home so you are sure nothing happened to me. I know by the way you sometimes disassociate from the world around you that you are thinking of home and returning to your family” as you speak, you feel something wet falling on your upper arms, and realize that Childe is silently crying. You have half a mind to stop, but you also know that he needs to hear this, so you tighten your hug a little in reassurance. 

🐋 “I also know that whenever I see you with a new wound, I can’t help but worry for you and my first instinct is to check if you are okay. I’m now familiar with the way my heart skips a beat whenever I get to see one of your genuine smiles, especially when the reason behind them is that you get to spend some time with me. I know my eyes soften when I see you talking about something you’re passionate about. The truth is, I care for you, Childe. I really do, Fatui or not. Harbinger or not. And yes, while I would rather you not be one, I still can’t help but long for your company because you make me happy. Because I love you. So don’t underestimate me. I’m strong and so are my feelings. You being a Fatui is not gonna change that”. After this, you two sit in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not an awkward one despite your confession. You know he is gathering his thoughts so you move one of your arms that is wrapped around Childe’s torso to card your fingers through his hair, mindful of the knots that had appeared after the battle. If he doesn’t believe your words, then you sure hope he trusts your actions. 

🐋 Childe is the one who breaks the silence when he asks “How could you possibly love someone like me?”. If you weren’t sitting that close to him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He says this so softly, so gently, almost as if he was trying to convince himself and not you. 

🐋 “Silly boy” you laugh warmly. “Did you hear anything I just said?” You ruffle his hair, and finally, FINALLY, you can hear him giggle a little. “You don’t get to decide who I love. That’s my choice, and I choose to love you”

🐋 No kisses were shared that day. No grand, magnificent romantic gestures were made. Only the silent promise of two young lovers to love and cherish each other as they were. And maybe, just maybe, you could work things out, together, to build yourselves a brighter future. 

🐋 So after all has been said and done: congrats! You are now the proud s/o of Teyvat’s biggest simp. 

🐋 Childe is your number one fan. Everything you do is carefully recorded in his mind for later use. He has to go on a mission away from you? Be prepared to be pampered and being taken on several dates the previous week so this clingy man has something to hold on to. 

🐋 Also: he is shameless. He will not be afraid of making out with you in plain daylight on a busy street. But fear not! If you happen to not be a fan of PDA, he will try to be low-profile. You are, afterall, a person he treasures and can’t live without, so your comfort comes before his needs. Now, I say “try” because he will still demand to hold your hand and give you the random kiss on your cheek. 

🐋 HUGS. FROM. BEHIND. Watch him giving you hugs like Oprah. You are buying something? Cooking? Chilling? Expect to feel a pair of long limbs wrapping from behind you in a tight hug like a koala. It’s his hourly vibe check. 

🐋 Very jealous and protective of you. He is very afraid that one day you’ll realize there are plenty of people better than him and you’ll leave him, so please remind this simp that he is more than enough for you. 

🐋 He also has nightmares from the time he spent in the abyss and will take sometime for him to realize that he is no longer there, so give him a few minutes for him to come to his senses and then please for the love of the Tsaritsa cuddle the life out of him. Also on this note, I have the headcanon that he prefers being the little spoon. That, or facing each other and he rests his face in the crook of your neck while leaving little pecks there. 

🐋 Also you discover, to your surprise and as stated at the beginning , that this man has absolutely no idea how to do relationships. To compensate for this and to give you only the best of the best (as you deserve), he spends time in his travels to read romantic novels to have an idea of what to do, so don’t be surprised if he says or does something corny or cringey. 

🐋 The most chaotic “meet the family” you’ll ever have. As soon as he takes you to Snezhnaya, you will have all of his siblings running and tackling you into a bear hug (he sends A LOT of letters to his family about you and if you read them you would not be sure if he is talking about you or a deity).

🐋 He also tries to keep you out of anything regarding the Fatui. It’s a relief that you finally know about how deep his person runs in the organization, but he also wants to spare you from the details of what he does unless something is really bothering him. 

🐋 All in all, this golden retriever is your biggest hype man and the most loyal boyfriend. You will never get bored with Childe, as everyday is an adventure with him and he will make sure you to make you as happy and loved as you make him feel.

#childe #childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #mine #tw axiety #tw anxiety attack #genshin spoilers #genshin impact spoilers

[kaypeace21]

What's in a name? (Analysing all the names in stranger things)

*I'll be repeating some names more than once as I break down categories .

Show , book, and tv easterggs

Alot of character names may have deeper meaning but some are also refs to stories they liked. The stranger writers twitter posted a list of movies said to inspire s4 (which I’ll be referencing).

Dart- dustin names him this after d'artagenean (a 3 musketeers book character) and one of Dustin's fav candies (3 muskateers). Similarly his pet turtle yurtle is implied to be named after the dr Seuss’ story 'yertle the turtle'.

Brenner- main character from 'the birds', which was on the st s4 list.

Byers- john byers from x files. The duffers mentioned x files was an inspo for the show. Although John byers (from x files) resembles Murray as an unhinged conspiracy theorist. The documentary paradise lost was also cited as inspo for st- john byers and his son, terry, Michael, and Steve were names in said film

Jim Hopper- in Predator (another st inspo) he was a soldier who was flayed to death in the woods. Another character in the film with a similar fate was “Hawkins”.

Detective Wheeler and elle Holloway- from silent Hill franchise. Another ref mentioned by the Duffers. Holloway was the surname of st's Heather. Elle (is el) and Wheeler is Mike's surname. Wheeler was also on the ep of twiglight zone (another cited ref by the duffers) . In the ep 'mute' sheriff wheeler takes in a mute psychic girl as his foster daughter. So some hints at hopper too . Hopper even mentions el-anor (gilipse) in s1. The surname of a main character in the silent hill series.Lt. Colonel Sullivan (s4) could be a eastergg of silent hill 4 which had a Sullivan character.

Henderson- st twitter mentioned how all the bond films were on the s4 inspiration list . So Dustin's surname being the same as one of the bond characters is a nod. Duffers also mentioned ‘freaks & geeks’ as inspo- and 1 character’s surname was also Henderson (another nod).

Mrs Driscoll (from s3) - a nod to invasion of the body snatchers which was mentioned as inspo by the Duffers. And clear inspo for s3.

Powell (cop and partner of hopper ) - diehard films also on s4 list. He's named after the cop powell.

Callahan (cop and partner of Hopper) - father Callahan ref. He shows up in many of Stephen King novels. The Duffers have cited over 10 novels and books from him as inspo for st

Nancy- she's called ‘Nancy drew’ (from the novels). And the duffers have mentioned they are fans of elmstreet - who's main character was Nancy. Nancy also references 'Oliver twist" ,and that book has a character named Nancy in it. Nancy was also a first Lady in the 80s similar to her friend Barbara- who was also a first Lady in the 80s.Nancy's name might also be inspired by "Nancy Wheeler", a secondary character in the 1970 book Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret written by Judy Blume.

Fred (s4)- apparently a high-school journalist who may be friend or foe. This one is a stretch but given nancy maybe being an elmstreet ref- and her enemy being fred-die kreuger. Fred may have animosity to Nancy and that's why his name is Fred. I mean ... they even cast a new s4 character with Freddie kreuger's original actor.so...

Jason (s4) - is in the 1986 Nancy drew novel (when s4 takes place). He is similar to the duffers description. In the novel he's a rich, popular, arrogant jock and blackmailing students at the high-school . S3 even named one of its episodes after a nancy drew novel- so wouldn't surprise me.

Christie carpenter (s4/reffed in s1 by hopper)- christie is the main character in the hellraiser series (which is on the s4 st list). Carpenter is the surname of the director of 'the thing' name dropped in s3. (The flesh monster in s3 also resembles the thing) , and in s1 mr clarke watches it ,and mike has the thing movie poster in his basement.

Argyle (s4) - die hard 1-2 were on the s4 st list. And is a name of a diehard character.

Max- her name is 'mad max' like the 80s film. But since the Duffers like videogames. Her name may be a ref to max caufield from the ‘life is strange’ game as well. She has a 'never Maxine rule' similar to max in st. But the game character is similar to jonathan as she is a teen photographer and says similar words to jonathan in s1 saying she would rather watch people through a camera than interact with them.

Eddie munson (s4)- not going to lie. I have no proof of this but I immediately thought of the TV character Eddie Munster (the friendly monster ).

Possible comic book easteggs

The duffers are no stranger to comic book references. The duffers have already directly reffed xmen, wonderwoman, and green lantern. Kali's place also has a comic book ref to 'the invisibles' on the wall. While the s4 movie list mentions thor ragnock , age of ultron, and 2 batman films. Some of these refs will go over your head if you haven't read my DID theory. But a lot of this analysis will still be enjoyable. :)

Jane st ives (jane ives aka el). marvel. (jane st ives sees her dad k*ll her mom and vows revenge against him.Sort of similar to what brenner did to terry).

Stephanie harrington (Steve harrington)- 80s marvel comic. DP.7. Will DID ref. Antibody, is a medical resident who can project from his body a dark figure of himself (also called an "antibody", a word play on the medical term) that flies, can become intangible, and transfer its memories to another person by physical contact (mindflayer).  He later merges with the antibody. like how susie refs ‘wizard of earthsea’ -the novel where the young wizard Ged releases a shadow monster (said to be an ancient evil) but it turns out to be the dark aspects of his personality and the only way for the chaos to stop is to accept his darkness and merge as 1.

Barry bauman (Murray bauman) . marvel comics - Will did easteregg.Bauman lived in never ending darkness. He felt, that there was a realm outside the darkness and started to explore the entire content of his brain thus using now more than the usual 10 % .Also had telekinesis.He turned his attention to the stars in order to exact revenge on the human race which spends billions of dollars to kill each other, but wouldn't spend the mere million or so it would have cost to cure him. For his vengeance he transported the suns near our galaxy into his omnipotent brain. As the people of Earth would learn of the disappearing of the suns they would panic and feel Bauman's loneliness before he would destroy Earth.Despite the death of his physical body, Bauman's consciousness somehow survived and began hopping from body to body throughout the galaxy, his powers growing until the Star Thief was recognized as a major threat to galactic society.

Sinclair- last name of xmen rhaine.  Will Did ref. storyline Rahne Sinclair is mentally bonded to Havok against her will(Will/mf).She is subsequently manipulated by the Shadow King. Her bond with Havok causes her to act irrationally, sometimes threatening teammates, sometimes by flirting with them.  She undergoes more than one attempt to undo the bonding, with varying results. Her instability also manifests in many odd dreams, in which her identity is merged into pop culture figures. What’s funny is charlie heaton (jonathan byers) was just in an xmen movie with this Rhaine character.

Victor creel (s4)-sounds like mutant victor creed of the xmen comic. x men Mutant with ab*sive dad and poor socioeconomic background. He had a "birthday tradition" of ab*sing his young relatives on their birthdays. Which reminds me of Lonnie making jonathan cry for a week (because he forced him to k*ll a rabbit on his b-day). Not to mention Lonnie is prob coming back for Will’s b day in s4... so... the name is prob a ref to that ‘birthday tradition’. Could also be a stephen king reference -since Duffers love him. The Creel family was in sk’s book “pet cemetary’-which fun fact (the actress who plays El’s aunt is in the recent remake)!

Yuri (s4)-Yuri Topolov (Russian: Юрий Тополов) was a Soviet scientist and the first foe of the Hulk. 

Dimitri (s4)-Dmitri Bukharin was born in Kuibyshev, Russia (some sources say Moscow).  First appeared in Iron man.

Peter ballard ( s4 character) may just be a hellfire ref . since I guy with last name ballard was a double agent for the hellfire club (name of st s4 ep 1). And ballard means bald which the actor is certainly not lol. I don't think he's literally associated with hellfire but its just a ref. And because its implied in his st character summary despite working for the mental hospital-where brenner is most likely at- he's horrified by the treatment of the psych patients. So that may be where the double agent aspect would come into play.

Ian Hargrove (billy hargrove)- batman comics. had a history of mental health problems dating back to childhood, which his parents were unable to afford treatment for. His brother John hargrove tried to keep him out of trouble but Ian developed an uncanny talent for explosives (will the wise fire powers). He ends up at Archam asylum. Cough billy is Will's alter. Why he has the name billy (a nickname for William) . Jonathan in s2 mentions how he likes the writer vonnegut- who wrote slaughter house 5- the main character was Billy. Already mentioned how it connects to my did theory .

Jason carver (s4)- carver is the last name of the comic hero thunderbolt (in the flash)-the first name of thunderbolt is Will and his brother is named Lonnie. There was also a John carver in the comic.

Holland (barb's last name) last name of Swamp thing. I think its plot has quite a few s4/5 spoilers but Im not diving into it right now.

Names associated with religions or mythology 

(if you’ve read my DID theory- some themes will appear relevant in relation  WIll’s alters or to WIll’s past/tr*uma).

-‘Kali prasad".Kali  is the name of a Hindu goddess . Kali’s iconography and mythology commonly associate her with death,  violence, s*xuality, but also paradoxically -motherly love. In myths ‘she only k*lls demons’ and is described as  ‘overflowing with incomprehensible love for her children’ - (aka ST’s Kali k*lling people from hawkins lab for hurting kids). Her third eye stands for wisdom (like Will the wise).Kali is called at times ‘ the bright fire of truth’ (will the wise/fire powers).The devotee makes her image in his heart and under her influence burns away all limitations and ignorance in the cremation fires. This inner cremation fire in the heart is the gyanagni (fire of knowledge), which kali bestows (cough Will the wise-fire powers). The goddess also could create a darkcloud of lightning (similar to the mf). The phrase “brilliant as a dark cloud” is a snippet of one such prayer dedicated to Kali.The name Kali is derived from the Hindu word that means “time”. Kali receives her name because she devours ‘kala’ (Time)- like clocks ticking when El sees demogorgan/clock being wonky when Will see mf/clocks in s4 promos.’ After devouring time she resumes her own dark formlessness. “This transformative effect can be metaphorically illustrated in the West as a black hole in space” (cough mf cough hopper blackhole/time refs). Kali’s s2 butterfly-“Kali is the Hindu goddess associated with eternal energy. ... The cocoon, butterfly and the karmic golden wheel reflect Her deep connection with life.”And Prasād (her last name) is a material substance that is a religious offering to gods in  Hinduism .

-While, EL is the name of a Cannanite (male) god associated with “salt water “ (pool filled with salt in s1) who “dwelled in a tent” (in s1 Mike’s blanket fort) .And his gray-beard was described as " "full of wisdom.” él’  in Spanish means ‘he’- which could be a nod at her ( androgynous) presentation in s1. El can also be translated to "God" or 'god'. The el character has various mythologies depending on which culture/ religion is using the term 'el'. In the post-biblical period, "el" became a regular element in the names of angels such as "Gabri·el," "Micha·el," and "Azri·el," to denote their status as divine beings.And Jane translates to " Yahweh (god) is gracious/merciful". The cannanite god El was also dubbed “Compassionate God of Mercy.”  Earlier, a ninth century B.C.E. inscription  identifies Ēl- the name of the Babylonian water god Ea, lord of the watery subterranean abyss (cough watery  dark void in st). Terry (el’s mom-aka Teressa) was originally used in the Middle Ages for a “child baptized in holy water” (El in the sensory water tank/Terry used it too,according to Becky in s1). Eleanor (called this in s1)- can mean "sun ray" (possible the opposite of the ‘shadow monster’ or Kali who can represent a “black hole”). 

-Will-the s4 st movie lists (‘red dragon’, gods of monsters, & ‘blade runner’ ) mention the artist and writer William Blake  (specifically his painting of the angel michael fighting a dragon in revelations - reffed in st s1). He was one of many painters part of the exhibition of “ The World Turned Upside Down: Apocalyptic Imagery.”The World Turned Upside Down explores the myriad ways that artists in England visualized the apocalypse in a period fraught with political, religious, economic, and cultural change. 

During this period Blake was commissioned to create over a hundred paintings intended to illustrate books of the Bible along with revelations .  He also drew illustrations for the novel Dante’s inferno. Blake’s brutally satirizes oppressive authority in church and state.He said those who proclaim restrictive moral rules and oppressive laws as “goodness” are in themselves evil. Hence to counteract this repression, Blake announces that he is of the “Devil’s Party” (cough hellfire club ref-and dissing the satanic panic of the hellfire club and other marginilised groups) . He also says “men forgot that All deities reside in the human breast.” So Instead of looking for God on remote altars, Blake warns, man should look within.He produced a diverse and symbolically rich œuvre, which embraced the “imagination as “the body of God.” He wrote his own stories based on biblical writings- one includes the fire wielding character of Los (will the wise) who represented jesus. Los (like jesus does in revelations) causes the destruction of the world and the second judgment unfolds. The poem ends with Los’s unfallen state rising up and shepherding in science and removing the dark religions. I also talked about  how this story ‘book of los’ hints at the DID theory-but this is getting long-so you can just read the explanation here if interested. Also, hellooo Both names are William B(yers/lake). Billy (a alter of Will-sharing the name William) in s3 he even wore “lady of pillar” medallion- i.e about jesus/mary.

JOHN (supposedly Jesus’ blood relative- who wrote ‘revelations’.) In scripture John was called “the disciple whom Jesus loved as a brother” .Fire is the most typical element associated with the Saint John's Eve celebration (Jonathan did light the demogorgan on fire). Many scholars consider John & Jesus ("apocalyptic prophets"). Jonathan itself translates to " yahweh (god ) has given" in Hebrew.

Michael- Similar to kali, he’s a religious figure known for killing demons. He’s the arch-angel from the book of revelations (Apocalypse). A evil Beast (with seven heads usually translated to ‘satan’ or ‘dragon’) appears .“it was a 7″ causes Will to be attacked by the demogorgan ( which in d&d is a demon with multiple heads). The Archangel MICHAEL fought and defeated this 7 headed beast/satan. Corresponding with Mike at the end of s1 writing a fictional d&d story for Will (based off defeating the demogorgan) which was about helping kill a 7 HEADED MONSTER! Michael is also the archangel who oversees on Earth the natural element of fire (Mike telling Will the wise to use ‘fireball’ to defeat this same 7 headed monster in the game, at the end of s1)! Ironically though Jesus /Christian god is also associated with 7s a lot (he has 7 angels and during the apocalypse causes 7 plagues , he has 7 candles etc .)cause the number seven, represented ‘perfection’ according to ancient numerology . Will’s b day is March 22- (3) +2+2 =7 (“it was a 7”). Will’s bday even falls in what christians call “the holy week”( the week immediately preceding Easter.)  At the end of s1 they even defeat this 7 headed monster because Will rolls a 14 (which can be broken down into two 7s). Michael & William also have 7 letters in each of their names respectively- equating to this 14. This dragon biblical story (of Michael) is also William blake’s most popular painting. Also, random fact in revelations god has a rainbow throne (with thunder /lightning -will the wise powers- coming from the throne, and seven lit torches next to it ) . He also wears a rainbow halo. Lol. Michael also roughly translates to  ( 'Who like el?' The answer being roughly translated to ' no one like el' ... which i mean literally is saying there is no one similar to her. But I still think its a linguistic pun/ burn that Mike is not actually into El romantically).

Jim (James) hopper- According to the s3 script Hopper’s real name is James. JAMES (JIM) was an apostle to jesus- brother of john. And in the bible was called a ’son of thunder ’. Will’s powers/ hopper being an alter of Will's so technically brother of jonathan and thunder powers. Not to mention David on Instagram saying hopper has " he has risen. like bread" is a Jesus ref to 'he has risen"... even the bread ref could be a catholic ref to the last supper.

  Martin Brenner/marsha holland-  have their first name reference the roman god Mars who was originally a ‘thunder or storm deity’ (will the wise/mf powers). EL (in cannanite mythology) also allowed Baal the storm god to rule the entire earth.

ROBIN- was the God of Thunder’s- Thor’s- favorite bird. And Dustin also means ‘Thor’s stone.’The red belly robin is also an important bird in Christianity. Legend has it that the robin got its red belly from a fire in which it was trying to protect Jesus. Robin also name drops the greek god prometheus- the god of fire (will the wise) who brought human beings life and knowledge. And Steve looks at Robin and says "let there be light" a biblical passage. The robin represents selflessness for a higher truth. 

Barb- Saint BARBara- dad kept her locked away from the outside world (like el/brenner) . He tried to k*ll her when he learned she didn’t believe in his religion- so the dad was punished by “god” who electrocuted him with lightning/lit him on fire. (Will the wise powers).

Nancy- is derived from a medieval diminutive of Annis, an English form of Agnes.  There’s the christian saint Agnes- who was beautiful and from a wealthy family. She was the Christian saint of girls and v*rginity . And the duffers subverted this along with the problematic horror movie trope of the ' v*rgin female heroine surviving while her more se*ually liberated female friends are punished by the villain' ( by having her survive specifically because she decided to have s*x).Agnes was also led out and bound to a stake, but (allegedly) the bundle of wood would not burn, or the flames parted away from her (will the wise fire powers). Also people claimed that any man who tried to r*pe her was struck blind.

Hopper's wife’s name -Dianne- is also the roman goddess of ,nature, hunting and wild animals( and greek equivalent to Artemis) .Becky  means ‘snare’ -for hunting animals .Teressa (Terry) means ' huntress'.  The name was originally used in the Middle Ages for a child baptized in holy water . Name of 2 saints-Teresa of Avila and Therese of Lisieux. Lonnie’s gf (Cynthia) was originally an epithet of the Greek goddess Artemis, as well.

Power couple Angela & jake (s4) - Angela means 'messenger of God". And Jake (also means ”supplanter”) is derived from jacob. Jacob was the son of Isaac and Rebecca in genesis. El’s aunt,Becky (Rebecca) is wife of isaac.Other theories claim that Jacob is in fact derived from a hypothetical name like יַעֲקֹבְאֵל (Ya'aqov'el) meaning "may God protect".The name jacob is also where the names James/jim is derived from.

couple Steve spies on in s3- Anna Jacobi & Mark Lewinsky. Anna ( name of the mother of the Virgin Mary) Jacobi ("he who supplants"-aka same meaning as jim since both names are derived from jacob). Mark (”the god mars”-same meaning as martin brenner) .Lewinsky (lion-same name meaning as Lonnie). Also derived from the Hebrew root לוי‎ (leví, “priest”)

Joyce means "lord". Could also be a ref to the ('unofficial') saint Joyce who gave up wealth to live in poverty.

Ted-is the short form of the names Theodore and Edward. Theodore is a Greek name meaning "gift of God", Edward has an English origin and means "wealthy guard." Eddie (from s4) also means ‘wealthy guard”

Holly (nancy and Mike's sis)- Holly meanings are 'One who is pious' or 'sacred'

Karen- can be short for Katherine-one of the first christian saints.”Saint Katherine of the Wheel “(er). A 4th century martyr who suffered t*rture on a spiked wheel.  Wheeler does mean ‘occupational name for a maker of wheels’ after all. 

Gospel of LUKE (lucas?) , or simply Luke, tells of the origins, birth, ministry, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ.

Sinclair- Catholic saint of computers and TV screens (i mean... he is in the av club).

MAXimilian was deemed a saint in the 1980s- saint of journalists and radios. (Both aspects of s3)

Saint stephen/steven ( STEVE)-an early disciple and deacon . Considered one of the first m*rtyrs of the church.Stephen is first mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles as one of seven deacons appointed by the Apostles to distribute food (lol icecream) .According to Orthodox belief, he was the eldest and is therefore called “archdeacon”.

Sara- Her name is a feminine form of sar (Hebrew: שַׂר‎), meaning “chieftain” or “prince."  She was the wife and sister of Abraham (ew -given her being an alter of Will though, such a name doesn’t surprise me). Similar to st Barabara’s dad - Abraham tried to k*ll his son isaac in the name of god. Becky (El's aunt) - is derived from Rebecca - wife of Isaac.

Claudia (Dustin's mom)- Christian woman of Rome greeted by Paul in his second letter to Timothy (in the bible).

Sam mayfield (max's dad) -  Short for Samuel or Samantha, from the Biblical name Shemu'el, which means "God has heard", from the Hebrew shama, meaning "heard" and el, meaning "God". Samuel is rumored to be argyle first name.

Marsha Kelly (s4)- Kelly means "frequents churches" or " bright headed". Given she's a counselor the bright headed pun makes sense. But maybe she's not to be trusted if she frequents churches during a satanic panic arc which was fueled by Christian religious extremism . Or she's someone who contrasts the rest of the religious people in town since she's not originally from hawkins...who knows. x files’ main character was catholic but in one ep she criticized a small town for the satanic panic occurring-and says how accusing these kids who listen to rock as satanic or being k*llers is ludicrous.

Peter ballard (s4) - Peter was also the name of an apostle. 

Tina (side character s2)- like christy (s4) it’s short for Christina which translates to "follower of christ" or 'stream'. Tina was the gal who hosted the t halloween party and also the name of one of Erica’s friends in s3.

Samantha (goth girl jonathan talks to in s2 party) translates to "told by god".

Tommy (s1-2) "God's gift" or "twin".Thomas is the Greek variation of the Aramaic name Ta’oma’. It came about because there were too many apostles named Judas; Jesus renamed one Thomas—meaning "twin"—to distinguish him from Judas Iscariot and the Judas also known as Thaddeus.

carol (tommy’s gf)- Carol is the short form of Caroline and the meaning is derived from the English vocabulary word for “song” or “hymn". A hymn being a religious song or poem.

Benny ( who helped El at his dinner) - originally derived from latin bennedictus which means "blessed"

Stacey (s2-3 ) rejected dustin at dance. Stacey- "resurrection "

Grigori (the guy following and tracking hopper, Joyce, and alexi)- The name was adopted by early Christians heedful of the Biblical passage located in 1 Peter 5:8, “Be sober-minded; be watchful."grigory now means 'watchful and vigalent'

Alexi- prob based on the russian folklore story of alexy. A clever priest's son who tricks a dragon.

Harrington- similar to Robin's religious animal iconography. Harrington means 'he goat'.The most popular image of the Satanic goat dates back to the ever-mysterious Knights of Templar, who were accused of worshipping an idol known as Baphomet (a 1/2 human 1/2 goat man). Roman Catholic society decried it as a demon that demanded human sacrifice — but it would take a few more centuries before the goat became a truly occult symbol.Anton Lavey adopted Baphomet as the sigil of the Church of Satan in 1966, and it has appeared on countless metal album covers. But, Baphomet isn't the lone source of inspiration for our goat-like depictions of Satan.it's also believed that early Christians, seeking to demonize preexisting Pagan traditions, drew comparisons between the Devil and the Greek god Pan (god of nature), who happened to resemble a goat.Some cited how in revelations- during the apocalypse- Jesus separates the 'lambs from the goats'. ( supposedly Good vs bad)

Given the fact s3 alluded to the satanic panic. A Christian movement in the 80s that demonized and said d&d ,rock music, homosexuality, other religions, stephen King,horror films, wearing black,and non conservative ideology were 'satanic.' I wouldn't be surprised by this possible ref. Heck even William Blake criticized similar religious movements in his own time period. Several movies from the s4 list allude to this. The most obvious being the documentary paradise lost (named after the fictional retelling of satan/adam and eve story) - the documentary directly focuses on a witch hunt of rock loving teens (wrongfully accused of m*rders) in a small town during the satanic panic. Not to mention ironically s4 is hinted to be around easter. So Using such symbolism to address religious fundamentalism and the bigotry/hysteria it can cause isn't surprising. No i’m not lumping all religious people into this negative category- obviously.

Other Names with similar definitions

*Hunting /forests woods, nature, animals

Hunters and people in forrests

name meaning : becky - snare (a trap for catching birds or animals). Teressa-huntress. Dianne/Cynthia (Hopper’s ex wife/Lonnie’s gf) - is a roman/greek goddess of hunting and wild animals.  Rhadaghast- Will's password for cb is a lothr wizard who protects forests/wildlife.martin/marsha- previously god of agriculture/plants.As an agricultural guardian, he was believed to directed his energies toward creating conditions that allow crops to grow, which may include warding off hostile forces of nature (pumpkins rotting in s2). El in phoenician culture was called Elus and its Greek equivalent Cronus (god of agriculture) steve- he goat- associated with pan- god of fields, groves, wooded glens . brenner- ‘someone who cleared forests by burning’. the blond women, Brenner worked with,  Fraizer-  “of the forrest men”

* FUN FACT: Kali’s name originally was going to be ‘Roman’ (which is derived from Romulus-the son of Mars... aka Martin Brenner) .

Trees

Ives and owens- ives means 'yew wood' while Owen means 'yew tree. ' bauman- nickname for someone who lived near a tree.comes from the German word "baum," or "boum" in Middle High and Old German, meaning "tree’. Jennifer hayes- Jennifer  derived from Old English words "jenefer", "genefer" and "jinifer", all of which were variants of Juniper used to describe the juniper tree.Lonnie means "oak tree; or lion". Lion plushie in cb and the lion el has along with the tree establishes a connection between all 3 maybe? Oak groves were especially sacred to  the goddess dianna too. Buckley (it has many different translations) - Old English "boch ley" (with boch meaning beech tree and ley meaning wood, glade or clearing).

Nature

buckley if translated from "bok lee," means meadow, or field. mayfield- open country (field) where madder (mæddre) grows. Holland- wood land, Bruce (who was also possessed) - means WILLow lands . Keith (s2-3) : woods or forrest.Hargrove- meadow filled with rabbits (Jonathan’s hunting story).Holloway is a topographic surname, which was given to a person who resided near a physical feature such as a hill, stream, or type of tree. Tina means 'river' . Burness (guy who claimed he jumped into quarry)-stream. Neil- cloud. Lowe (Bruce's last name)-This surname is derived from a geographical locality 'at the low,' i.e. the hill. Hayes means "hedged area'.

Flowers

Flo (hopper's secretary)- means flower. Suzie-  lily flower. Susan (Max’s mom)- means lily, lotus flower or rose. Karen (in Japanese can mean)- flower, lotus, or water lily. Heather is also a variety of small shrubs with pink or white flowers which commonly grow in rocky areas.  Erica is a type of "heather" plant. martin/marsha: in the legend of Mars,his mother become pregnant with him using a magic flower- which was given to her by the goddess flora.

Bright (aka intelligent)

Bob- nickname of Robert . Both Bob and Robert mean 'bright, shinning or fame'. Aka smart -he's called ' Bob the brain ' for a reason.

Robin- is also diminutive of Robert . And we all know robin is smart too. Being multilingual/ cracking the code.Robin (like Robert) also means 'bright, shining , or fame.'

Lucas- means "bright" or "shinning" aka he's also a smart cookie. His firework plan saving the day.

Lonnie and Larry (the mayor) can both be nicknames for Lawrence which also means ' bright one' or 'shinning one'. Well... both are cunning I'll give them that. Lonnie is unfortunately ...smart. I think this detail had other foreshadowing. Joyce to Will about Will the wise ' if he's so wise why does he need the fireballs? can't he just outsmart the bad guys? " Will: " yeah. Usually. BUT sometimes the bad guys are smart too." I never understood why on earth Joyce would be with someone as awful as Lonnie in the first place- than be with his literal opposite Bob- but maybe she just found intelligence attractive?

Names associated with thunder/lightning/fire (Like Will/mf/Will the wise)

Byers-reprsents Greek Zeus (god of thunder/lightning). Martin - references the roman god Mars who was originally a ‘thunder or storm deity’ .ROBIN- was the German God of Thunder’s- Thor’s- favorite bird. And Dustin also means ‘Thor’s stone.’Jim- “son of thunder”. Christian god- has throne (surrounded by thunder /lightning). Kali- could summon thunder storms.Nancy/Barb-both saints associated with fire. Kali-is called at times ‘ the bright fire of truth’ /and bestows the fire of knowledge. Robin also name drops the greek god prometheus- the god of fire. Mars -the keeper of Rome's perpetual flame . The Robin bird in a Christian story myth protects Jesus from hell's fire. William Blake- wrote about a fire wielding character of Los who represented jesus. Jesus during end times wields fire. Michael is the archangel who oversees on Earth the natural element of fire. Fire is the most typical element associated with the Saint John's Eve celebration (Saint John- called Jesus’s brother).

Animals (and their symbolism)

Byers- means ‘ cattle shed’.The Greeks considered the bull animal totem to be a symbol of Zeus (god of thunder and lighting - will the wise powers). He is the head of the gods and the almighty ruler of Olympus.  I”n hinduism, Shiva is known as Gorakhnath, means the lord of the cows.  And is also known as, Pasupathinath, the lord of all animals (similar to Rhadaghast). According to some scholars, Shiva’s association with cows and bulls might date back to the Indus Valley period. Cows have a special significance in Hinduism, as aspects of Mother Goddess and as symbols of selfless service. Mahatma Gandhi declared the protection of cows a central feature of Hinduism.Hindus worship cows as the Mother Goddess and symbol of motherhood, kindness and forbearance.”

Tigers: (Sarah’s plushie/ Hawkin’s macott/ Will & Mike have tiger posters in their rooms): The goddess Kali & God Shiva wore a tiger skin (this fact was actually mentioned by Kali in the prequel novel ‘suspicious minds’ ).”In many tribal traditions of India, the tiger (or lion) is worshipped as a god. In some Hindu hymns the domestic fires are compared to the tigers that guard the house.Tigers also figure prominently in many Indian folk-tales, Jataka-stories, and the Panchatantra.”

Lions:(Lonnie means ‘lion’ and el and Will have matching lion plushies)- In the Bible, the lion has two opposite meanings: it is compared to the Devil (1 Pet 5:8) and to Christ (Rev 5:5). Aka: Lonnie is the devil. The kids are the opposite. Nancy also compares the demogorgan to a lion. “In many tribal traditions of India, the lion is worshipped as a god.One of the ten incarnations of Vishnu is Narasimha, who has the head and shoulders of a lion, but the torso of a human.Goddess Durga, a fierce form of Parvathi or Shakti, has a golden lion as her vehicle, while Rahu, a planetary guard, rides upon a black lion as his vehicle.Lions form an important part of Hindu religious art. The face of the lion (simha-mukha) is used in images and sculpture in many Hindu temples to decorate the doors, walls, arches, and windows.The memorial pillar at Saranath  contains four beautifully carved standing lions at the top on a round abacus representing the imperial power. They now constitute the official emblem of the government of India.”

El almost k*lling a cat- “Some superstitious beliefs are also associated with cats in Hinduism. For example, killing a cat is considered a grave sin, for which one may have to offer prayers and give in charity at least seven golden images of the killed cat. “

Harrington- he goat. Buckley- has various translations. Anglo-Saxon: ‘bucc and leah’ meaning goat and wood respectively. And obviously there’s the robin-bird. And I've already discussed their symbolism. Goat= baphomet/pan. 

Robin- thor's fav bird/ helped Jesus from hell's fire.

Buckley- can also translate to " field filled with deer" (like the deer attacked by the demogrogan or the bambi film jon reffed in relation to the hunting story about lonnie).And Karen ( when from it’s Hebrew origins) can mean- antler or horn. Also the caananite God el was usually depicted with animal horns on his head.Diana in Roman art usually is accompanied by a hound (demo dog) or deer.  Because of the story of her turning an attempted r*pist-hunter into a deer/ and then causing dogs to attack him.  Deer is also one of the symbolic animals accepted since early Christianity as an allegory of Jesus Christ and the Christian Disciple. And when associated with Shiva (kali's husband) in Hindu iconography, the deer omen denotes sovereignty over nature and symbolizes the lord of all animals, humans, and the King of the Forest. In many visual and written illustrations, human beings and deer appear as close companions and in some cases, humans adopt the face or antlers of a deer, in images more common in stories of human strife. Deer also have a supernatural significance and appear as apparitions of divinity and in legends of spiritual awakening.

Hargrove- meadow filled with rabbits (like the rabbit lonnie made jonathan k*ll.) Hopper sounds like thumper the rabbit- which jonathan mentions in relation to bunnies . And ... idk... Hopper did make that pun in s3 about bunnies to Larry (lawerence) ? We also have rabbit refs elsewhere like with- el in Benny's. They play the song 'white rabbit' a song referencing Alice in wonderland and in el's room at Terry's house is the white rabbit from that story. Also paralleling to jonathan- el was almost made to k*ll a cat by her father (Cheshire cat aka Alice in wonderland ref + cats are associated with magic powers/witch craft).In Celtic folklore, the rabbit is seen as a supernatural being from the Otherworld.The rabbit symbolism in Christianity has found its way through the Germanic deity Eostre from which the name Easter came to be (s4 will most likely have the Easter holliday).One tale describes the rabbit as the pet of Jesus Christ. And rabbits were often inserted into art of jesus' mother .

Creel- basket or container of fish.fish is taken as symbolizing Christ’s faith, charity, and abundance. A biblical story goes how Christ fed his disciples with 2 fishes and called them “fishers of men.”  The Christians made an acrostic from the Greek word for fish, “ichthys” as early as the first century and it is, “Iesous Christos Theou Yios Soter”, meaning Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.

Names hinting at character traits (which are very literal)

Mr clarke (science teacher)- clarke means 'scholar'

Dottie (in kali's gang)- she was in an insane asylum . And ‘Dotty’ is a very old British slang term  for 'crazy'

War (usually relates to ‘villains’)

Troy- means ' foot soldier'. Martin brenner: Martin means 'war like'. Lonnie is diminutive of Alonzo or Lawrence. Alonzo means 'ready for battle'.

In contrast to Lonnie, Will can mean "desiring peace. " Axel  who is part of Kali’s crew (who i think Will created along with others ) even means "father is peace."

Twin

Tom (Heather's dad) and Tommy mean ‘twin’. Robin's crush Tammy ('twin') Thompson ( 'son of tom’).

* Besides similar/identical name meanings.There’s also a lot of other repeated names that go into this whole twin/mirror imagery which i find strange... makes me wonder about @strangertheory ‘s version of the did theory. If not...maybe it’s just a allusion to the whole Will vs Will the wise arc (possibly) coming up?

Jennifer hayes (popular girl) & Jen (Mr clarke’s gf). Tina (highschool gal) & Tina- erica’s friend- Tina & christy are also nicknames of christina (s4 character). Susie (dustin’s gf) & susan (max’s mom). Sam (max’s dad) and Samantha (girl at party)/ samuel (possibly argyle). Billy Hargrove, Bill (dianne’s new huband),  and Will-all being nicknames for William. Robin & Bob-nicknames for Robert. Lonnie & Larry-nicknames for Lawerence. Ted  & Eddie being nicknames for Edward.James (Will’s bully), Jim Hopper (real name James), jacobi, and jason- all 4 are derived from jacob . Marsha Holland (barb’s mom) and marsha kelly (therapist s4)/martin relate to mars. Tom (reporter), tommy (highschooler), thompson (other highschooler).

it’s definitely peculiar to repeat names like this in a story. Unless it means ...something... I talked about how David was mentioning alot of doppelganger/twin imagery recently-here. So the name mirroring could just be an allusion to the Will/WW arc coming up ...possibly?

#will byers #mike wheeler #el hopper #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #jim hopper #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #murray bauman #robin buckley #byler #kali prasad #martin brenner #lonnie byers #stranger things #stranger things theory #billy hargrove

[phantaloon-books]

I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)

in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.

so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)

It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.

Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.

Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.

But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.

Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?

"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.

"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."

And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.

"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."

"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."

"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.

"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"

Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.

So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-

"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."

Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."

What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.

"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.

"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."

At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?

It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.

Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #trk #the raven king #tkm #the king's men #neil josten #nora sakavic #andrew minyard #kevin day #I'm so sorry #I don't write stuff like this I mean it my angst is very different #fanfiction #also no I didn't kill neil #it's just a goodbye of sorts #aftg fanfic #no this is not betaed or revised for that matter #half of this was written while I was in class #I was going for a prompt and ended up writing almost 2k words instead lmao #sorry I write a lot in my tags #andreil #not really but it's there

[dragonseattofu]

NekuShiki question time! #2 :)

Who said "I love you" first? When?

Do they ever go dancing? How does it go?

Who is more affectionate with the other?

First I love you

The person who I envision to say the first “I love you” in the post-NEO world would be Neku. Pre-NEO I would hands down have thought it would be Shiki, because out of the two I feel like Neku’s more of an awkward sort and wouldn’t know how to put romantic feelings into words. But after NEO I feel like Neku became a little better at conveying his feelings and here’s why:

He watched her exit the elevator. She was talking to someone holding a camera bag, possibly the photographer she had just hired a couple of days ago. He remembered their evening meal yesterday, one he had to pry her away from her work to partake in, relating to her upcoming photoshoot. He learned their usual photographer had double booked and she had to scramble to find a replacement. The replacement looked young, around their age, and seemed to be bowing a goodbye to her before walking towards the exit behind him.

Neku continued to watch her, as she pulled out her phone from her Mr. Mew purse. Shiki tapped furiously at the screen, with speed rivaling Nagi, and seconds later he felt a buzz in his pocket.

After tucking her phone back away, Shiki moved toward the turnstiles situated near the door and finally saw him. It took her a second to overcome the surprise, he didn’t tell her that he was coming to pick her up, but she immediately brightened as she walked toward him at a steadfast pace.

How many days, months, years had he waited and hoped for to see a sight like this? To feel like this? Like his chest tightening in anticipation of her being in his arms, his cheeks warming at her smiling at him for simply … existing? How long had he spent thinking about the life he could have had with his friends, with her?

When Neku was dropped into the Shinjuku UG, he went into shock. Why? Why was he back when he was banned from ever playing the game again? He had just gotten his life back. He finally didn’t feel so alone in the vast seas of Shibuya.

But then he got shot … again.

His cynical side thought, maybe this was his retribution. He didn’t deserve friends, not after what he did to him…

But then he remembered them, and what they had all said to him.

“Let me in! Tell me what you're thinking!”

“Give up on yourself, and you give up on the world.”

“You're not my partner anymore man, you're... my friend. So trus' that yo!”

Come on, work with us. A problem shared is a problem halved!

And then he could have sworn he heard her…

“You finally came back to us … I knew you would.”

“I’m so happy you're back, Neku.”

He didn’t remember her saying that to him, but it wasn’t the first time he felt like he saw things that haven’t happened yet, things that could happen if he played his cards right. Visions of a future that gave him some … hope.

Every battle he fought, every new area he stumbled into, every floating thought he passed, all led to this hope that he would get back to his friends.

When he wasn’t fighting to survive, or when Coco was standing watch so he could rest, he thought about them. Was Beat skipping classes still? Was Rhyme learning how to do those ollies Beat was trying to teach her. Was Shiki … was Shiki hanging out with Eri right now? Was she fixing a stitch on Mr. Mew? Did she miss him, the same way he missed her?

His time in the RG after playing three weeks in the reapers game was short, but nothing less than wonderful. Shiki and Neku went on a couple outings together, just the two of them when the Bito siblings had family errands. It started out a little awkward, especially when familiar restaurant and store keepers thought they were an item already. A specific ramen owner was the worst of them all even though his teasing came from a place of fondness for the pair.

Without him realizing, being with Shiki was almost as natural as breathing, and every moment he spent with her was fun, interesting, precious to him.

Neku didn’t get the time he needed to work out how important Shiki was to him before being plunged into the Shinjuku UG, but three years of company to only the disembodied thoughts of lost souls and an occasional “fairy” reaper gave him the opportunity to delve into it. The conclusion he reached gave him the motivation to keep fighting, to keep surviving. For once, he had someone worth living for.

“Earth to Neku?” Shiki waved her hands in front of his face.

He blinked, bringing himself back to the present. Shiki stood on her toes, trying to look at his face underneath his overgrown bangs. He felt her touch his cheek, concern marring her adorable face.

He hates that he brought so much strain to her life. Maybe she could have been happier with someone else, someone who wouldn’t break their promise to go shopping the next day and abruptly disappear.

But then she smiled at him, having noticed that he simply zoned out. And all of a sudden his negativity stopped spiralling and he felt grounded again. He may not feel like he deserved her, but she chose him nonetheless.

She chose to never give up on him, that he would survive the ordeal he was thrust into. She chose to be the best version of herself that she could be while she waited for him.

And then even after all that time had passed, she still chose to be with him.

Neku didn’t know if there was a word that encompassed the overwhelming emotion he felt whenever he thought of Shiki. One certainly felt close enough though.

“Hey Shiki?” He asked, putting his larger hand over her smaller one that lingered on his cheek.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he said that to anyone, if he did at all. Even though Neku had told Shiki almost immediately after his arrival in the RG that he wanted to be more than friends, he hadn’t used that word before. Love was still such a foreign concept that he wasn’t sure he understood it completely, but if there was anyone in the whole world he could associate love with, it would be Shiki.

Shiki’s hand on his face stiffened at the sudden confession. For a hot second, maybe it wasn’t the time or place she expected him to say it. He felt a slight panic from the doubt of her not reciprocating his feelings.

But those thoughts were quickly thrown out when she leaned in and kissed him.

It was a kiss longer than they had ever shared before. She was physically telling him something, but he was a little preoccupied to fully process anything. Shiki pulled away, far quicker than Neku would have liked, carrying the sweetest grin he ever saw on her.

“I love you too, Neku.”

Dancing

Shiki would have this fancy company dinner that she’d have to go to for networking. As friendly as Shiki is, she’s still introverted and the whole event just sounds utterly exhausting. Neku would be her plus one, because even if that’s the last place he would rather be, he’s her partner, and that’s that. She gets well enough along with everyone, but she has to make the rounds and greet everybody, leaving Neku alone at times. Thankfully Eri’s also there, and the girls take turns between networking and keeping Neku company. He surprises both of them when the head designer for Jupes notices Neku’s deep purple button down shirt from Jupes under a Gatto Nero’s half grey plaid - half black solid blazer (it’s visually better in my head than what I just described), and wants to talk to the designer of the jacket. Neku goes full endorsing mode for his girlfriend, and smiles smug when the girls realize they didn’t need to worry about him, much less securing a major deal with a major brand for a collaboration. He’s pretty happy with himself when he hears a version of Someday play on the surround sound. The dance floor opens up, and a couple of people start a waltz.

Neku thinks to himself, it’s an odd thing to have a dance in the middle of a company dinner, but dinners in the fashion industry are often hosted by the most eccentric of people, and he supposes it’s not so peculiar after all.

The melody plays soft and slow, and if he’s honest with himself, it’s a pretty good rendition of one of his favorite songs. He sees Shiki from the corner of his eye, silently asking her to dance as he extends his hand out. She’s surprised at the gesture. Neku’s many things, but dancer’s not one of them. The exaggerated kicks he’s so fond of are sort of hard to move elegantly in. A simple slow dance, he thinks, is enough for him to handle. Her thin finger slipped effortlessly into his hand.

More affectionate

Post-NEO, I feel that both are pretty affectionate toward one another, but in different ways. Shiki’s more physically affectionate, she’s more of a hugger and is always holding his hand, or his clothes, just so she can feel that he’s there. He doesn’t initiate physical touch as often as she does, but he never let’s go, or moves away from it. This happens more naturally as they start dating, snuggles and such.

Neku’s more affectionate verbally. He’s gotten comfortable saying what’s on his mind more often. He’s not shy about complimenting her, she doesn’t need his reassurances but his opinion is important to her nonetheless. He’s a natural flirt; says things that would be considered suave without intention. He would say pick up lines without realizing that they were pick up lines.

Okay, so I’m like not really sure how best to put my thoughts together but here goes:

The Shibuya and Twister kiddos would all be at some fashion function, and the Fret and Beat would comment on how attractive some of the models are. Neku would just be like, “yeah, they are attractive, but they aren’t as beautiful as Shiki.” Him referring to how much he loves her appearance as well as her personality, whereas he knows nothing about these girls so all he is going on is their looks.

And of course Shiki, who has pins in her mouth and is trying to get her models ready, hears this. Her jaw loosens and the pins fall on the floor. She’s essentially flushed and flabbergasted, by what he said and how nonchalant he said it. He looks at her like he said nothing wrong. Then he just smiles at her, and she just stutters out curse words. She doesn’t have time for this.

Notes: I’m so sorry for the late reply. I’m such a slow thinker and writer! But thanks again for the ask! The first prompt sort of snowballed. Hope you like it! @doesitringabell, I added a collection on Ao3 dedicated to you for any/all other prompts that end up longer than I had anticipated. Check out the source content.

Also sorry for any typos and such, let me know if you spot any. If anyone is still interested in my rambling mess of Neshiki fanfics/ficlets, don’t hesitate to send me more asks! It might take a while, but just know that my moments of silence are just me tinkering with ideas (writing something, hating it, revising it, writing again, rinse, repeat, then screw this, just take it.)

#TWEWY #Neshiki #NekuShiki #the world ends with you #NekuShiki question time #ntwewy #neo twewy #twewy neo #the world end with you neo #neku sakuraba #shiki misaki #daisukenojo bito #rhyme bito #eri #coco atarashi #my post #mypost #myfanfiction #myfanfic

[rekrappeter]

Moments || s.r

pairing: spencer reid x ssa!reader 

warnings: child abduction case | swearing maybe ?? | lmk if I have missed anything ♡

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is my first one-shot involving any members of criminal minds. i have slowly fallen down the rabbit hole of being complete obsessed with spencer reid hence the reason for this new tumblr. lmk if you have any recommendations of other writing pages/criminal minds pages! Also if you have any requests, hit me up♡

This was the moment that you dreaded. The moment after you had the chance to clean yourself up; after you made a nutritional meal; after you made a cup of tea in your favorite mug and after you decided on a movie to spend the night watching. It was the same routine, the only differential factor was the case that happened before it. It was the moment that you were able to take a deep breath and look around your empty apartment, and each time, the sudden feeling of dread suffocated you. 

It was the moment that you used to look forward to but years had past and despite loving your job and the people you worked with, realization dawned on you that it had started taking a toll on your social life. You couldn’t even recall the last time you went out on a date. Was it two years ago or more? Every time you got back from a case, you slowly started falling into a state of loneliness and your mind would keep you preoccupied with the thoughts of never finding someone to love you. 

You stared at the steaming tea in the mug, watching it dance through the air and you felt your eyes starting to tear up with the heavy thoughts in your head. Sighing, you stood up and placed the cup on the coffee table. “That’s enough now..” You mumbled to yourself, grabbing your phone and opening the app store. You flickered through the multiple dating apps that were available, your mind boggled by the amount of them and just as you agreed to install one, your phone buzzed in your grasp.

Hotchner: We have a new case. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you suddenly forgot about the dating app that was installing itself into your phone. Another routine that you were too accustomed to was changing from your loungewear to something more appropriate for work and grabbing your travel bag in less than ten minutes before you were out the door on the way to your second home. 

As you walked into the bullpen, you spotted each member of your team, and a feeling of security flooded over you. “Ah, there you are.” Derek grinned, dressed in a leather jacket and fitted jeans, as he leaned against your allocated desk. 

“Missing me already?” You teased. You could tell that the spark in your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you had to try your hardest to hide your negative thoughts in a room full of profilers. You placed your bag underneath the desk by Derek’s feet and he reached an arm out for a side hug.

“You ok?” He whispered, making it look as if he just kissed the side of your head. 

You knew you couldn’t trust your voice so you just responded by nodding at him, returning the friendly gesture. Derek was your closest friend in the BAU, you enjoyed his energy and could tell there was more to him than just pretty looks and a funny demeanor. Your attention was pulled away from him when Hotchner walked into the room, his confidence stride going towards the conference room. “Let’s go.” 

Garcia debriefed everyone on the active case that we were going to cover and the moment you heard the words child abduction, you sucked in a deep breath. They were always the ones that had the biggest impact on you and it took a while for you to recover from them, depending on the outcome. As you looked around at the team, you noticed that everyone looked exhausted from the previous case you had just closed; you caught Spencer’s glance and returned the empathic smile that he gave you. 

“Wheels up in ten, we’re already four hours behind. We can rest on the jet.” Aaron said before everyone fleeted from the office. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you slowly started to feel yourself slipping away from being hopeful that you were going to find this child. Two other children have gone missing from the area within the past six months and they still haven’t been found. You sat on a chair, your eyes scanning the information board over and over; there had to be something someone missed. Three young boys stared back at you, and time was ticking away. 

A knock on the door pulled your attention away from them and you looked at the door, seeing Spencer there. “Sorry, I didn’t want to startle you.” 

You stood up from the chair, shaking your head and fixing your shirt. “No, no, it’s okay. I should actually be out there. Just thought I might see something different.” You forced out a chuckle when you realized it was Spencer that was in charge of this board. Of course, if he couldn’t see anything, you wouldn’t be able to. 

“How are you holding up?” Spencer asked, walking into the room and taking his rightful place at the board. Spencer had noticed how you were more reluctant to leave the offices at night; how you were always trying to hold onto that last conversation. He could see that empty look in your eyes in the morning, noticing how your cheerful demeanor would come out after you spoke with people. 

“I’m okay, Dr. Reid.” You teased gently, watching the light blush flutter across his cheek. “It’s just... cases like these are tough, especially when we have three missing boys and no leads. It just seems all too strange….” 

Spencer listened to you rant on about the case, watching you sigh in frustration and he admired the way you spoke with your hands. He wanted to ask how you were feeling despite the case, he wanted you to open up to him like you do with Derek and JJ but he just couldn’t get past that wall. He wasn’t too sure if it was him or you that kept rebuilding the wall between you, was he afraid to admit that he has slowly started to fall for a colleague… again? 

“That’s it.” You whispered, rushing over to where Spencer was standing and examining the photo of the second child that went missing. “When I went to speak with Mark’s parents, they had a photograph on the wall and his father was wearing this exact shirt, it’s from a boy scouts association.” 

“Do you think it was his father?” Spencer questioned, trying not to get distracted by the fact that you were centimeters from him. He could smell the lingering scent of your shampoo and he could almost feel your heart racing. 

“N-no, I don’t think so. If you look at the photo, you can see that the shirt is too big for it to be his. What if someone had some kind of grudge…”

“Over the fathers and his way to get even is to take their sons.” Spencer finished your sentence. 

You looked up at him, his body closer to yours and you felt your skin getting red. “It could be a long shot but it could also be worth it.” You mumbled quietly, very aware that Spencer hasn’t made any objections to you standing this close to him. You took your phone out to call Garcia, and inwardly groaned when you unlocked it and Tinder was the page that was exposed. Glancing at Spencer, his face looked defeated and he took a step back from you. You couldn’t understand why regret and panic swept over you, and you started blabbering excuses out to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Your secret is safe with me.” Spencer chuckled softly before he turned his back to you and you could see him running his fingers through his hair. When you got through to Garcia, you explained your theory to her but your mind was distracted by the tousled brown-haired man in front of you. As you waited on the line for Garcia’s confirmation or rejection of your theory, your eyes kept glancing at Spencer. You so badly wanted to be able to explain to him that you haven’t even been on the dating app, that it was a moment of weakness on your behalf. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, if you were here right now, I would kiss you! I’m going to call Hotch, I’ll send the address your way.” You released a sigh of relief when she hung up, and you smiled at Spencer. 

Spencer returned the smile, “Who’s the genius now?” 

“Come on, let’s go get ‘em.” You retorted, ensuring that you had your gun and left the precinct with Reid hot on your heels. The hope was finally started to come back. 

It was always good closing cases that had a happy ending but unfortunately, not all of them ended like the one today. But you were going to take advantage of the blissful feeling that you were feeling while it lasted. You were back at Quantico now, filling out the last of the paperwork. It was just past eleven in the evening and you had said goodbye to the team merely two hours ago. On your way to the storage room, a light caught your eye in one of the conferences room. 

Peeking through the half-open blinds, your stomach twisted when you spotted Spencer there, flicking through an unknown file. The feeling was strange, it was as if you had the sudden urge to want to go talk to him and there was no doubt that he has been on your mind the last few hours. You knocked on the door, opening it and leaning on the doorframe. “What are you still doing here?” You smiled, and when he lifted his head, his hair danced around his face. 

“I-just catching up on some research,” Spencer replied, placing the chart on the table in front of him. But the truth was, Spencer just picked some random file to read so that he had a reason to make sure you weren’t going to stay here all night by yourself. “What has you here?” 

You shrugged your shoulders gently, walking further into the room. Nibbling on your cheek, you wanted to open up to Spencer but you didn’t want to bore him with details of your life that he had no interest in. Before you could reply though, Spencer started talking again. “When I asked you earlier about how you were feeling, I didn’t mean at that moment. I couldn’t help but... but notice that you have been acting strange recently, it’s as if your mind is always elsewhere and you’re always the last person here. Is everything okay at home?” 

You couldn’t hide the shocked look on your face but you knew someone was going to pick up on it eventually. Spencer was the last on your list though that you’d expect to notice unless he has been watching you. And what would that mean if he was? Did he like you more than what you thought he did? “I-I… Spence, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You feel as if your whole life has been dominated by this job? That it’s not giving you a chance to live how you would like? That you might end up being alone because of how intense this job is?” Spencer spoke softly, as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. 

You shook your head, a light smile on your face and you scoffed in disbelief. “Exactly like that. That no matter how much I give to this job, I’m not getting anything back from it. I could agree to go on a date with someone, but I could never be 100% sure because at the last minute, I might have to leave for a case. No one would understand that.” You sighed, leaning against the table.

“I would.” Spencer whispered, and you whipped your head to look at him, noting how he was suddenly avoiding eye contact with you. 

“What?” You asked, your heart beating against your chest. 

Spencer looked around frantically before standing up from the chair, “Noth-Nothing, it doesn’t matter. Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked, his beautiful brown eyes avoiding yours still. You stood straight and walked over to where he was, his adam’s apple gulping.

You reached your hand to rest on his cheek, testing the waters at first. He didn’t flinch away as you expected, instead his eyes flickered closed for a moment and he rested into your touch. This was a moment that you could get used to; you watched his all the worries left his features and when his eyes opened, they were soft and swirling with unexplained motions. “Can I try something?” You asked quietly, not wanting to make any sudden movements. He nodded slowly, and his eyes widen slightly as he watched you move closer. 

“Are you sure?” Spencer whispered, knowing that what is about to happen is something that you can’t take back. 

“Yes.” You replied, closing the gap between yours and Spencer’s lips. The kiss was hesitant at first, neither of you wanting to scare the other away. His lips were soft, but as second passed, his confidence built and he wrapped his arms around you slowly, pulling you to him. Your lips moved in sync, savoring every moment and broken touch. Your fingers swam through his hair and your heart felt as if it wanted to explode with happiness. An emotion you haven’t felt in so long. 

When Spencer pulled away, your eyes remained shut for a second wanting to remember every moment of it. You wanted to replay the kiss over and over again. His breathing was heavy and the air was fawning your face. “I have wanted to kiss you for so long.” He broke the silence, and your eyes connected with his. 

“Really?”

“Really.” He whispered, leaning in to peck your lips again. 

“What took you so long?” You asked. 

“It was never the right moment.”

           🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻

please please please let me know what you thought of this! It’s my first s.r fic so I would love some feedback! also I have 0 followers, follow me and I’ll follow you back! <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #sr #spencer reid x ssa reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fanpage #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid oneshot #derek morgan #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #criminal minds #new page

[cordonian-literature]

Forever Mine

chapter four

❦ summary — The time for Princess Riley to step into her role as queen fast approaches and finding the future king is Cordonia’s top priority. Commander Liam is aware of that, and has plans to make sure the princess ends up with someone suitable.

➺ chapter warnings: none

❦ catch up here!

➺ word count: (+/-) 1980

*all characters belong to Pixelberry, except those unique to my story*

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

When Leo had left Cordonia, he tried to leave all traces of his royal life behind as well. He bought a new wardrobe, everything from socks to sunglasses, leaving all of his suits in his chambers. Leo had bought a new phone and the only contacts were Riley, Bastien, Liam, and Drake. His father called him often, but he never saved the number.

And during the time he was gone, he avoided Cordonian news, too, wanting to remove himself and his mind from the nonsense that his father caused in European politics, or the lies that reporters felt they were free to tell.

So when he sees pictures of Riley and the King at the Regatta — Constantine smiling through a frown because of the sun while Riley’s grin made the photo seem brighter — he clicks on the article to read it, proud of his little sister and how she was handling the situation she was pushed into.

But Leo’s blood boiled the further he read. He wondered how these reporters had dared to write something like that about the princess when she had done nothing wrong. There were two paragraphs dedicated to praising Constantine for his declaration of war “for the protection of the Cordonian people, young and old, rich and poor”  but Leo remembered that even Commander Liam had said it wasn’t a good idea.

Leo stops reading halfway through, on the verge of throwing his phone against the wall. He sends the link of the article to Drake and receives a phone call less than five seconds later.

“Just got done reading the same article,” says Drake when Leo answers the call. His voice, usually unbothered and calm, was now hinted with irritation and anger, just as Leo felt.

“I can’t imagine the effect this has on her,” Leo responds, beginning to pace the room. “I mean, you were there during the Derby, right? I mean, I didn’t mention it to her but did you see how panicked she gets around reporters? Goddamnit…” he runs his hands through his hair then walks to the mirror to fix it. “I can’t be the only one who notices that she looks away every time cameras come near her. She’s done that since she was a kid but—”

Leo stops talking when he hears the click of the end of the phone call and turns to see Drake enter the room.

Both men sigh and fall into a pit of silent anger, neither saying a word of what they were feeling. Leo saw the heat behind Drake’s eyes, and almost laughed to himself when Drake’s jaw clenched.

More out of curiosity and wanting to see just how Drake felt about Riley — but also feeling the brotherly need to see how she was doing — Leo suggests going to check on her.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Drake says, quickly standing from his seat and going to the door.  

The men emerge from the room and walk down the hallway, taking a moment to adjust to the lack of light. When the walls are finally somewhat visible, Drake nudges Leo and jerks his chin forward: someone is walking ahead of them in the same direction.

A broad set of shoulders, tall build, blond hair, and military uniform: Leo instantly knows that it’s Liam. Drake looks at Leo for what they should do, but Leo simply shrugs, wanting to see where the man was going, hoping that he’d walk in another direction.

But three turns and a flight of stairs up later, they’re still walking in the same direction. The King’s Chambers were a long way off, causing Leo to wonder where Liam’s destination is. They’re currently in the hall where all the guests stay. A few more turns down would be Riley’s room, but before that is the library.

When Liam turns the corner and goes momentarily out of view, another set of footsteps can be heard from behind them. Drake gently pushes Leo towards the wall so that whoever it was couldn’t see them.

The person stops right next to them, and Drake nudges Leo to get behind a statue of his great-grandfather. Neither of them can tell who the person is, but both men’s hearts pound when the person knocks on the door.

“Who is bothering me this late at night?” an arrogant voice vibrates through the closed door, and Leo recognizes it as Neville’s.

He opens the door and light pools into the hallway, almost giving away Leo and Drake’s hiding spot, but they shift so that they are still in the shadows.

“Who are you?” Neville’s tone has an edge to it.

“Zoe Zacharias, at your service,” says a feminine voice. The name sounds familiar, but Leo isn’t sure he knows them. “I have been given a letter to delie—”

The sound of paper being snatched echos off the statue. “Who is it from?” Neville interrogates.

“That is not something I am allowed to disclose.”

Leo and Drake glance at each other, features not visible but their eyes are alight with confusion and curiosity.

Neville rips open the letter and unfolds it, holding it out in front of him to read. “Let’s see… hm… your participation in the Season is inappropriate, ha!” Neville raises his voice and laughs. “What nonsense is this?” He continues to read: “Years ago… partnership with Mister Golzine… association with his club and company… has been…” his voice lowers to below a whisper, and Leo can see Neville’s eyes widen with panic, “connected to… disappearance of twenty ad—”

Before finishing the sentence, Neville rips the paper and throws the remains at Zoe Zacharias’ face.

“You can rip the letter,” she says, shoving pieces of paper off her shoulder, “but you can’t get rid of the evidence. We’ve found videos and bank statements that all connect back to you. If this were to be leaked to the public, or to His Majesty, you would be—”

“Shut your mouth!” Neville gasps in an intense whisper. “Don’t! I don’t want to hear it! I’ve… I… It can’t be traced back to me! All I did was… I didn’t play a part in anything! This has nothing to do with the Social Season!”

“But it does,” the woman interjects, her face and posture still calm and collected; she had the high ground now, and Leo wanted to laugh at how the arrogance had melted off of Neville’s face, but he was too afraid to breathe. “If you need more proof, I can show it to you tomorrow along with His Majesty. The King would never allow such a scandal to disgrace the royal family or Cordonia.”

Through the light that the room provides, Leo can see that Neville has started sweating.

“All right!” Neville gasps. “What do you want? What do I have to give you to make you and your partners keep your mouths shut?”

Without hesitance, she states, “Your resignation as a suitor.”

Leo and Drake’s eyes go wide.

Neville takes deep breaths, visibly weighing the possibilities. Leo had hoped he would read the whole letter aloud. What exactly had Neville gotten caught up in? He didn’t want to know the details, but Leo imagined that there must have been something in the letter that could have unveiled the writer.

“Fine,” Neville finally utters. “I will leave in the morning.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Zoe says. “No Cordonian shall hear of this, and we will make this information disappear.”

“Thank… you,” Neville breathes, the anguish and confusion still glossing his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“I understand, you probably have much to do before morning,” Zoe nods her head and smiles.

“Yes,” Neville stutters and closes the door, throwing the halls of the palace back into a pit of darkness.

Zoe’s footsteps can be heard retreating in the direction they all came from. Once she’s out of hearing range, Drake and Leo continue walking towards Riley’s room, the unease heavy between them.

They reach her room and knock on the door, but there’s no answer from the other side, and it seems like the lights are off, too. Drake checks the time to see that it’s a few minutes after midnight.

Not wanting to stand in the hallway for too long, Leo says, “We can check on her before breakfast, let’s go back.”

On their walk, they remain silent, eyes and ears alert in the case that there was someone else awake. When they’re back in Leo’s room and the doors are shut, their shoulders relax and they let out a sigh.

“Do you know who Zoe Zacharias is?” Leo asks.

“I think she’s a part of the King’s Guard,” Drake answers. “I haven’t seen or heard of her in a while though, I’m not sure.”

“She’s worked with Bastien?”

Drake shrugs, “I was introduced to her a few months back, and that’s what she said she was.”

Leo nods, beginning to pace again. She said she was a part of the King’s Guard, but had never worked with Bastien? There was no doubt she worked with the government, seeing that she had so much information on Neville.

“The only person who would have had the power or influence to do this is someone close to the king,” Leo states, unsure.

“It doesn’t make much sense. How do you know?” Drake asks.

Leo takes a moment to think, not having a solid answer to Drake’s question.

“Clearly,” Drake continues, “whoever sent that letter probably wanted to get rid of some competition.”

“Who would have wanted to do that?” Leo asks, feeling the pieces come together.

“It could have been Constantine,” Drake says. Leo’s father was easy to blame; the man wasn’t always diplomatic, and there was a high chance that such a corrupt man would try to shift the results of the season.

“Or,” Leo suggests, “it could have been Alexander.” Drake nods in agreement. “I imagine he has enough influence to get that information, and using it to get closer to Riley makes sense, too.”

“You’re right,” Drake says, even though neither man was confident.

The room falls into silence again, Leo and Drake’s minds racing for a better explanation with the lack of knowledge. If someone had wanted to get rid of Neville, why do it privately? Why not go to the King and have Constantine release this information?  

“It’s late,” Drake says, patting Leo’s shoulder and pulling him away from his train of thought. “Get some sleep. We’ll have to keep an eye on Prince Alexander and Constantine. Maybe talk to Olivia and get her to help out.”

“Olivia?” Leo looks up at his friend and smirks. “Why Olivia?”

Drake frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that? I just mean that she’s good at this stuff.”

“Yeah, but there’s a whole bunch of other people we could ask.”

Drake rolls his eyes.

“We could ask Liam,” Leo begins to list jokingly. “Bastien, or even Miss Zoe Zacharias. Better yet, we could even catch Neville before he leaves in the morning and make him tell us everything.”

“I don’t want to ask Liam,” Drake says quickly, causing Leo’s eyebrows to jump up.

“Woah, man, I just suggested it, no need to get defensive.”

Drake sighs, and Leo throws his arm around Drake.

“Do you have something against Liam or is it…” he gives Drake a knowing look.

“No,” he says curtly.

Leo holds up his hands and walks back to his bed. “I was just asking,” he says, trying his best not to laugh.

Drake turns and opens the door, “I’ll see you in the morning, we can tell Riley what happened.”

“Sure,” Leo says as the door closes, though he makes a mental note to remember not to tell her. There was no reason to stress her out more. The less she knew about someone manipulating her decision, the better.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

a/n: sorry for not posting. lol i know i say this every time but life really do be getting in the way 😫i’m counting down the seconds until school ends so i can finally have some free time. anyway i know this is short but i hope yall enjoyed it!!

@twinkleallnight @gkittylove99 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kingliam2019  @queenrileyrose @royalromancer @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @parkdoesthings @claireloutoo

#hey besties guess who's back from the dead 😼 #trr fanfic #choices fanfic #liam x riley #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #liam rys #riley brooks

[quarantinebreakup412081121]

Day 8:  Things I’ve done (or am going to do) in an effort to heal and move forward

I’m not good at dropping people and moving along as if they never mattered to me.  It appears that R is the type of person who can.  And that’s alright- I’d much rather be a person who can have healthy, and intimate, and truly meaningful connections with the people I’m involved with.  If I was able to end things on Wednesday by blocking R and then not thinking twice about it... I’d be genuinely concerned about the type of person I had become and my lack of empathy or mental stability.

1.  Get out of the house.  I went to breakfast with a friend on Sunday and then we went to Target.  It helped a tiny bit and then was okay until it really wasn’t.  I started to have a minor panic attack in Target and just wanted to leave right away and get home.  Thanks to masks still being required, my face was covered and nobody could really tell anything was going on, but internally, I was going nuts.

2.  Getting some fresh air.  I spent lots of time outside.   I love summer weather and even though some of my time outside probably made my fever worse, it’s better than having stayed inside nonstop for a week.

3.  I read lots of articles on breakups and processing them, as well on some about ghosting and being ghosted.  My mom sent me a couple to read as well.

4.  I have been journaling daily and blogging, because writing has helped me get through similar life events before.

5.  I talked this through with multiple people.  My parents, my brothers, my best friend, a couple other friends, Instagram friends, and Facebook friends.  I don’t usually bring these things up on social media, but I couldn’t pretend to be okay and I needed as many outlets as possible.

6.  I’m going to start DisneyBounding again.  I’ve always loved Disney and expressing my sense of style through Disney fashion- but I haven’t done any of that since the end of March, after I met R.  Not that he stopped me, I just didn’t really do it anymore.  Apparently it’s helpful to get back into hobbies and activities that are important to you that you may have let go of during your relationship.

7.  Crafting.  I was doing some of this toward the end, because during the last month I was starting to feel unwanted and like things weren’t right and crafting has always helped to make me feel better.  I’m going to try to continue with that and maybe take part in a craft fair to see if I can make some sales in October!

8.  Snuggling with my dogs- because that never hurts, no matter the situation.

9.  Once I get to a point where I don’t feel like interacting with other people will potentially put me into a panic or give me extreme anxiety- I’m going to hit the job hunt hard.  But I need to be able to interview without totally losing it.

10.  I watched Legally Blonde.  An article I saw said that it was a good breakup movie.  I haven’t felt like watching much lately- especially my comfort or favorite movies because I don’t want them tainted by this memory or this feeling.  I don’t want to remember how this felt.  I want this to be a vague memory, like my breakup with J.

11.  I’m going to get out of town and change the scenery. This weekend, my brother and I are going to visit our brother in Virginia.  I think it’ll really help to take a short trip and do something new.

12.  I’m going to to go the movies since I enjoy going to the movies.  That was apparently a huge deal breaker with R.  I just wonder why he was so adamant against going to movies... I wonder if there was some kind of stress or fear associated with the movie theatre for him?

13.  I’m going to give myself a few months before I talk to someone new- seriously, anyway.  I will not get involved with anyone else in a serious capacity until I’ve moved on from this completely.

#heartbreak #heartache #breakup #moving on #love #loss #quarantine #quarantine breakup #recovery #breakup recovery #healing #quarantinebreakup

[yandere-society]

The Ultimatum

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day has rolled around once again, and just like last year, you plan on spending it with none other than your emotional support dog. What you don’t know, however, is that you have an unexpected visitor awaiting for you at home.. and not only does he have a loaded gun on his hip, but he also has your beloved pet in his lap.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 6,000

Admin: @tatertotthethot​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, signs/mentioning of mental disorders such as: anxiety, depression, PTSD and dissociation; Mentions of gang violence; Depictions of gore; nonconsentual kissing (nothing sexual); no dogs were harmed in the making of this…

“Here you go, guys.” You said as you handed the couple across the counter their drinks. You returned their smiles and bid them a good day, but as soon as they turned away and linked their fingers together on the way out, your expression settled into one of disdain.

Baley, your manager, noticed it. But like always, she chose to ignore it. She’s very much use to your secretive, albeit bitter distaste towards romance. She’s been working along side you for two years now, and knows that you’re a big advocate for holiday decorations. You’ve decked the place out on Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas— even fucking Saint Patrick’s day. But for Valentine’s Day, all you did was slap some heart shaped stickers on the window and didn’t even look too happy to be doing that, either. But she’s never been one to push.

“Guess what I’m doing this evening,” She hinted, hanging the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

“Hm?” You asked, having zoned out while rinsing your shot glasses out.

“I’m gonna eat the rest of my edibles and read some alien erotica.”

Not expecting anything less from her, given her personality, you only choked out a laugh and shook your head. It’d be more amusing if you knew she wasn’t kidding. Baley has a weird obsession with aliens and you never took her serious about it until you bought her a tentacle dildo as a gag-gift on her birthday, and instead of laughing about it and going off into a banter like you were anticipating, she started screaming and jumping up and down like you just handed her the last Golden Ticket to the fucking chocolate factory.

“What about your boyfriend?” You asked, forcing yourself to engage in conversation to keep you from spiraling.

“He’s out of town. So I’ll be thinking of him as I read about the alien king abducting me and using my tenta-holes—“

“Never mind.” You cut her off, trying to let that lighten up the mood. You appreciated the effort, but it didn’t work. You just wanted today to be over.

It’d be a whole lot better if only you could tell her the truth and come clean about your past. But it’s not like she’d believe you, even if you had the guts. But in all honesty, her fantasy about alien abduction was more believable.

You’re a barista making $10 an hour, living paycheck to paycheck and inhabiting the house your grandmother left you in her will. You have no car, you rely on public transportation; all your clothes are from goodwill and when you’re not working at this shop, you spending your life in confinement of those walls with your dog, as a recluse.

If you even dared to tell Baley that, just three years ago, you were living in a million-dollar mansion in South Korea, and had a luxurious wardrobe from big-name designers and that you didn’t even own a pair of fucking socks that were under $100.. she’d look at you as if you were the alien. She wouldn’t entertain the bigger half of the story, about how you were engaged to a man who’s now serving a life sentence and could possibly be put on death row for committing a robbery that left one of the international banking systems short 23-million won— which would amount to be approximately 20 million dollars in America... you would’ve lost her at the word Fiancé.

It’d be easy to prove, though. Your associations to the crime may not show up in your background check, being as you’re back here in America and was never detained, and the news isn’t relevant enough to circulate here. However, a simple google search would reveal it all, even with pictures of you two in public.

But not even you wanted to look up his name to know what was going on with his case. You were still ambient to forget about him, in a way. You wanted to ignore his existence. You fucking loath that man.. you swear, you do.

You had fallen back into a brooding silence again without even meaning to, and although you were busily cleaning up off muscle memory, you were detached. He still has that effect on you. And truth be known, the first year you spent in lonesome isolation after leaving Korea was just a change of scenery but not very different from the lifestyle he had subjected you to. But even still, it was so much better than living with him at the estate. And now, with your dog Sweetpea there, you feel safe again. At least you were in the same place you grew up, and felt closer to your grandmother—

Fuck, you missed her so much. He wouldn’t even let you visit her in person before she past. The man owned his own private jet and it never had any maintenance problems until the one fucking night you needed to go back home. You only got to speak with her on the phone, and bawled your fucking eyes out and spewed out an incoherent apology just hours before her heart gave out. That’s when she told you that she left you the house, and how sorry she was for kicking you out of it because you didn’t pursue the career field she wanted you to go for.

If only they would’ve arrested Taehyung a month prior, you could’ve been there for her. You could’ve hugged her and the two of you could given each other the apology you both deserved.

“Hey..” Baley’s voice suddenly came to your left ear, the only one that you could actually hear out of. Your right one, despite being 80% deaf even with a functioning hear aid, was faintly ringing from the emotional tangent you had accidentally drifted into.

You looked over at her, and broke down. Although she could never fully understand, she still gave you an empathetic frown and was pulling you into a hug before you could sputter out an apology— not that there was any use for one.

You had secrets that still haunted you, and will always impair your daily life— much like your botched eardrum and this shitty device you spent way too much money on. That’s another thing you only had Kim Taehyung to thank for, along with your fucked up shoulder.

You had to carefully elevate your arms but eventually returned the hug and cried a little harder, not able to help it. Sweetpea was a great reciprocate for affection and did a swell job with distracting you, but as far as human comfort goes, you haven’t had so much as that in.. well, seven fucking years. Tae was always big on affection, and also comforted you when you needed it. But it was redundant and didn’t have a sincere effect, being as he was the very one that initially caused the hurt it derived from.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, I never do... but I want you to know that I can see how strong you are. You’re doing a great job at making it through each day...” she muttered, rubbing your back as it shook with each silent sob. You felt bad when you heard her own voice beginning to thicken, but that was no surprise. She was a sympathizer and a little bit emo in general. Seeing others cry was enough to jerk a tear out of her, and you loved that about her. She’s a weirdo, but she’s pure, and she’s very good hearted. You could even say that you may have deeper feelings for her as well, and they may even be mutual, but you were no good for her. Hell, you were already putting her in enough danger just by being an employee at her shop. If you were to let your relationship stem past being friendly coworkers, or even hung out with her outside of work, that could pose an actual threat to her safety.

So, even though you wanted to lengthen the embrace, and longed to tighten your arms around her even more, you pulled back and wiped at your face, giving her a weak grin and a nod instead.

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before taking a step back, recollecting herself.

“You go home. I got everything else.”

You sheepishly nodded again, thanking her one last time before collecting your things and booking it out of there. Had you not felt so broken and defeated in that moment, you would’ve refused. But her show of affection triggered a deep, dire need to give and be given more comfort.

Fortunately for you, though, you had a special someone for that. Your dog is the only living creature on this planet that can be trusted with the revelations of your past. She’s the only reliance you have for receiving unconditional love and support without any judgment... probably because she doesn’t even understand what the fuck you’re saying half the time, nor can she repeat the shit you say, but as far as comfort goes, it’s always a guarantee.

— That’s just in her nature, like most pets. Pitbulls, however, are very sensitive and attentive to certain emotions— especially depression and anxiety. They’re just as good with protecting their owners, as well as they are with babysitting them. Everyone knows pitbulls have a notorious and misguided reputation for being aggressive. But little do most know, before dog fighting became a popular thing and defamed their personalities, pitbulls were primarily referred to as ‘Nanny dogs’. They’re great with babies in general, and very domestic and charismatic by nature. But despite being big, loveable goof balls themselves, they can literally sense stressful emotions and will know what type action to take in order to sedate them.

Sweetpea may not have professional training and certification but it is by her true nature and personality that you call her an Emotional Support Dog. When you’re having another one of your episodes— panic attacks, senseless paranoia, nightmares— she’s running to your aid and doing anything she can to distract and get you to play with her. When you’re depressed and spiraling into another breakdown, she licking at your face and sitting in your lap, not even seeing the problem with her being three times bigger than the average lap dog—

“Kneehemplamaforseeking?”

You sucked in a breath and blinked over at the PetsMart employee, smiling a few away from you. You probably looked lost, and in a way you quite literally were. You hardly remember walking in the direction of this store, let alone entering it. But this a common thing for you, so you easily just went on about your way despite the sudden worry of missing your bus... again.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” You had asked, turning your good ear towards her and watching her lips move.

“Do you need help looking for something?” She repeated, carefully annunciating her words this time, now that she could see the device in your ear. In today’s age, most people mistake it as a bluetooth— which has unknowingly saved you from accidentally talking to yourself in public, more than you would know.

You shook your head in response to the lady, and checked the time on your phone. You had 30 minutes left, thank God.

“No thanks. I’m just here to get some treats and waste some time before my bus comes. It’s windy as hell outside.”

“Ah, it certainly is,” she agreed, making her way to the next aisle. “Be safe out there!”

“I’ll try.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing a bag of bacon strips off the shelf— the very thing you had ultimately came for. It should’ve taken you no more than 5 minutes to grab and go. But it wasn’t uncommon for you to take much longer and aimlessly wonder down multiple aisles only to get one or two things from the same aisle, though. You do it at every store you go to, if you can stand to be outside of your home or away from work.

After checking out, you made it a mission to stay present until your bus came. By the time you got home, you were more stable.. up until the bus driver— a sweet elderly man who’s been transporting you on this route for last couple of years, handed you a rose on your way down the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, young lady.”

You had the strength to give him a genuine smile, but as soon as you stepped off and the doors closed, and the bus engine picked back up and left you with a gust of wind, you broke again.

Taehyung always gave you a bouquet of blood red roses for Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sucker for them. And you still are, but sentiment wasn’t the only emotion to come now. They brought on an ache. A pain. A worry. A twinge of longing, but a fuckton of resentment.

You wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp at it.. better yet, you wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn while smoking a much needed cigarette. But first, you need to see your dog. You know she’s just as anxious to see you.

You trudged up to your door and was quick to unlock it... but frowned when you didn’t see her on the other side. Maybe it was because your ears were ringing again from how worked up you’d just gotten. But usually, the mere sound of your key twisting at the lock would have her running to the and practically beating it down, and you’d opened to see her gleefully wining out and wagging her tail.

But she wasn’t there.

“Sweetpea?” You called out, making it a point to swing the door shut behind you. Still, nothing—

Whimpering. You heard her whimpering and your head snapped over to the hallway. Your heart began to race. Your bed door was open, as always, and you could hear her in there but she wasn’t coming out. Only whimpering for you to come to her.

Fearing the worst, thinking perhaps she’d hurt herself to the extent that she couldn’t move, you barged down the hallway and listened with a sickening sense of uneasiness as her whimpering turned to muffled howls.

“Sweetpea, wha—“

You screamed. Sheer horror and white-hot adrenaline erupted through your veins and scorched your nerve endings, leaving you numb in the limb to the impact of the floor beneath your kneecaps. All you could feel was the volcanic eruption of despair in your chest and the strain in your diaphragm.

Sweetpea was okay, but very much in danger. She had a muzzle on, and her big, canopy-like ears were peeled back and her big, doughy eyes were wildly beading dead at you as she struggled and pawed at the carpet, watching you fall to you fall out. She was so worried to get to you but she couldn’t, do to the death grip of the man who was holding her by a leash. She couldn’t even interpret the lethality of the weapon that was also aimed at the back of her head— a glock you specially recall being the weapon of choice when Taehyung pistol whipped a man’s head open before emptying all twelve rounds in his magazine into his face.

Now, all you could envision was the same being done to that sweet face and big, bulbous head.

You screamed out and wailed even louder, not even looking at the intruder or registering who it was. Because you already fucking knew and in your mind it was too late.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, making you and Sweetpea flinch. You stopped screaming but your breath was ragged beyond your control. Your vision was bouncing between his fierce scowl and Sweetpea’s fearsome one. You dove forward, intending to crawl and beg but two pairs of shoes stepped out from where they’d been standing behind the door, and their hands gripped you by the biceps before hauling you up to your feet. You didn’t even try to resist them. You knew better than that. But fear still had you discombobulated and speaking out to yourself, feeling incredibly dizzy and disarrayed.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“You’re not dreaming.” Taehyung snarled, palm itching to slap some sense into you. But even within the three years he’s spent in bitterness, it didn’t change the morality he did have in relations to you. He’d never hit you out of anger.

But then he realized the real reason why you were saying that, when your knees suddenly gave out and the hold his men had on you became the only thing keeping you up right as you fainted out. He didn’t realize you still had that problem, and it hurt him to see that now.

Back when he had you in his possession, you had accidentally witnessed an execution down in the basement of his mansion. It was the first time you fainted, a d your body came toppling down a good ten-or-so steps, which were made of cement, and you were lucky to have only broken your nose and dislocated your shoulder.

Guilt crashed over him, suddenly. He meant to terrorize you in a way that wasted little time to gain submission, but he didn’t mean to trigger your PTSD— although he knew it was likely. Given the resolve, he put the gun back in its holster and stood up, beckoning for Yoongi to take the leash. Jungkook easily held you up by the waste and waited to pass you off to your fiancé before bringing your wrists behind your back. You slowly came to as he did so, and your head lolled back up only for your entire body to snap back into attention all at once, now that you were face to face with the Devil himself.

“Come on, you fucking idiot!”

Your head snapped over and you began to panic again as Yoongi fought with your, trying to drag her over to her cage by the leash. She was putting up one hell of a fight and audibly wheezing from the choke, her eyes now bulging as she looked at you.

You bucked against the both of them, your maternal instincts causing you to go feral as you saw red.

“QUIT! YOU’RE FUCKING CHOKING HER, YOU FUCKING PRICK! PICK HER UP!”

“She’s too squirmy!” He shouted back, the shock of your outburst causing him to lose tension and Sweetpea lunged the both of them forward. Tae was shouting at Jungkook to hurry with the restraints and squeezing you tighter, but you were kicking and flailing like a fish out of water now.

“MAKE HIM STOP!” You cried out, but was forcefully silenced by the gigantic hand that grabbled around the entire bottom half of your face— including your nose. Having been in this situation before, knowing his antics, you knew he wasn’t going to let you breathe again until you did as told. So you were forced to settle down but was still desperately pleading with your eyes, crying as your dog continued to heave against the menstruations.

“Yoongi, for fuck sake, the dog is 50 pounds. Just pick her up and put your in the kennel.” Tae stressed, eyes still locked with yours.

With a grunt, Yoongi tackled your dog and trapped her in a bear hug, snatching her up off the ground. You wanted to scream at him again but you were actually starting to struggle for oxygen, chest jolting with an involuntary attempts to inhale.

“Alright, they’re on. I just gotta link them.”

Tae’s hand finally dropped and you hacked out, swallowing as much air as you could. Now that Sweetpea was safely in her cage, you had time to worry about your own safety, but the look on his face wasn’t giving off such a merciful vibe.

“You do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I won’t fight back... but if you hurt my dog—“

“If I hurt your fucking dog, it’ll just be tough shit for you. I’ll still do whatever the hell I want and unless you need me to prove that, I suggest you stop with ultimatums..” he chuckled, but it sounded so cold and twisted. He was on the verge of snapping, and was fighting to keep as much composure as he could right now, for your sake.

But he was on a heist right now, you readied yourself for the unknown when he punctuated his sentence by grappling your throat with the same, vandalized and accessorized hand he just smothered you with— fingers digging in at the sides. Your breathing was once again constricted and your eyes reddened in strain, your voice dying out.

Tae may not beat you, but he knows your worse fear is dying by suffocation. Hence, why he’s so big in breath play.

“Can you?” He reiterated, snarling his teeth at you and revealing the top and bottom pair of golden, fang-shaped plates framing his pearly white canine teeth. Back in the day, you found them so extravagant and tasteful, but now you found them all the more threatening.

He waited until your eyes began fluttered back before letting go again, and Jungkook’s body was the only thing that saved you from falling back. You never understood why, but for some reason, Jungkook was the only person Tae allowed to be in closer range of you, even when it wasn’t necessary. He even reminded you of that when Yoongi had stepped a little too close and Taehyung shot a glare over to him that had him taking a couple steps back. But Jungkook was apparently free to stand there, holding you up even as you regained your footing. You feared that one day it will all make sense, but for now, you were thankful that he was there to at least to save you from collapsing.

It’d be great if they weren’t even fucking here, at all.

“Go put the kennel in the car— not on the seats, though. Hobi will kill me if I fuck up the interior.”

“Please let me rehouse her.” You begged, cringing as his eyes returned to you. They looked even more colorless than before. “I’ll come with you, but I don’t want her there with us.”

“She’s fine. As long as she doesn’t shit and piss everywhere and doesn’t chew any of my shit, or try to attack me, I’ll let you keep her.”

“You were just holding a fucking gun to her head, Taehyung. Please let me rehouse her. My friend Baley will take her. All I gotta do is leave her in the cafe with a note— I have the keys. I’ll even let you write the fucking note yourself and we can go...” It was significantly getting harder to speak, now that your airways were irritated and your unsteady emotions were only making it worse.

You had already accepted your fate, but had a twinge of hope left that he’d at least hear you out on that request. His features had softened into a crestfallen display of guilt, and remorse. But your faith in him shattered all over again when he stubbornly shook his head and reached for the gun again. You were just about to throw another fit until he pulled the magazine out and showed it to you.

It was empty, until he pocketed it and pulled out a fully-loaded one and clipped it into place, before putting it back in the holster.

He tricked you, and although it was still pretty fucking evil, you were relieved. He never intended to shoot her and wouldn’t have been able to, even if his finger applied enough pressure on the trigger. But you were still very much in the midst of an abduction, and you still hated this man for what he was doing to you now.

“Why are here?” You croaked.

“To come get you and our new pet,” he announced, faking the enthusiasm before reinforcing his glare. “I’m... incredibly pissed about the fact that abandoned me.. but even more so offended by the negligence to stay updated.”

His eyes then caught the flash of a blue light at your ear. Your hearing aid was dying and faintly peeping in your ear. The remembrance had his entire demeanor shift to a sullen one, like a switch.

“But at the same time—“ his voice had fallen into a lower pitch, almost to the point of being a whisper as he stepped closer and easily molded his hands around your face. You suddenly felt fragile, but not in a way that made you giddy, like it use to. Now, you had to swallow down the bile in your throat and fight against the nausea as his suddenly lips came near.

“—It’s really hard take that out on you, when I can’t even blame you for it. But It’s been three fucking years, honey. Three. How could you not even have enough concern for my well being, to not even send a fucking post card? Did you really think you‘d never see me again, and that you had snuck away from me? I knew what you were doing, and where you were going before you even boarded your fucking flight.”

“You’re suppose to be in jail. I thought you were letting me go.”

“First of all, you didn’t even know the original plan to think that it had failed. All my charges have been dropped and the suspicion of my involvement dismissed. Namjoon has been found guilty and is now serving that sentence, like I had initially plotted from the beginning. You never knew shit to fucking assume anything!”

You glared at him despite the jolt that came with his drastic notch in volume, and not your tongue as he went on.

“But I did allow you to leave the country, but only to give you space and to let you touch base with... whatever the fuck it is that you still find valuable here. I didn’t think I’d have to clarify the circumstances of your stay, but for you to not even reach out.. and the fact you got some shitty, minimum wage job on top of it all, when you still have access to the saving account I’ve put in your name.. You really thought we were over? You haven’t even checked the news articles to see any updates on the case. I’ve been out for a week!”

He was still holding your face but his hands were shaking and the pressure was increasing again. He always pulls back and regains control over his temper before inflicting harm, but it’d be foolish to not expect him to one day lose that control. He’s hurt you on ‘accident’ before. He’s slaughtered many people, more than you’ll ever know to keep count. Nothing is sacred.

But now, you are a lot more contempt and able to tolerate the fear of him hurting you on impulse, being as Sweetpea was out of harms way and no longer in the room. You were still shaking though and had closed your eyes, bracing for it. But the jerk of shock only came when his suddenly lips covered your’s, and Jungkook finally backed away.

The kiss only lasted about three solid seconds before he pulled back, and was heavily panting through his nose. You dared to look up and caught a glimpse of the physical pain marring his features. His eyes had gone watery and his jaw began ticking like a time bomb, nostrils flaring and chest rising. He pressed his forehead against your’s and snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, trying to fight off his own sobs and choking on them more and more with each second.

“You hate me.. you haven’t even missed me.” His voice was so thickened by his emotions that it deepened the natural richness he already had, making it sound contorted and almost inhuman. A tear dropped down his nose bridge and hit your quivering lips, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fight back the heart wrenching burn it inflicted on you.

How could you still feel anything for this man? It can’t be. It just fucking can’t be..

But it was. You were so bewildered and petrified by the oncoming sympathy that it stunned you into a froze state of shock. He kissed you again, thinking it was a show of fear for own safety— and he was right to interpret the fear, but it was with different cause. He was steadily conjuring up feelings that you wished you could’ve watched burn, like you had intended to do with the rose your bus driver gave you. But here you were, heart bleeding for him.

You still didn’t reciprocate the kiss but it brought on more involuntary anguish.. you cried harder and so did he, and as he leaned your head back to kiss at your neck, you stared in perplexing awe at the gigantic bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand.

“It’s okay. I‘ve missed you too fucking much to punish you now.” He calmed, and took a good 30 seconds to regain his composure. There was still a groggy undertone in his next words, but once again, he was back in his domineering mindset. “But I ain’t cutting you that much slack.”

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you back, straight into Jungkook for the nth time. He heatedly wiped at his eyes and stepped back, and it was the first time you took in how much more muscular and rigid he’d become over the years.

Before, he was a lot more slender and you’re certain that the very shirt he’s wearing now use to be at least 2 sizes too big on him before.. however, the black silk was skin-tight and clinging to the humps of his biceps, and straining around the buttons between his pectorals. His skin was more pale than ever before but now you could see a tattoo curving along his temple, arcing aside the edge of his pierced brow. The word that was written in elegant, cursive writing made your heart palpitate and your stomach twist even more.

Honey. That was your signature endearment. That was the name you’d given him in place of your real one the very night he met you, and asked for it.

This crazy motherfucker really is obsessed with you. How he can lie to you, deceive you, punish you and drive you fucking bonkers and stalk you down only in the act of what he calls love.. and for it to actually be a form of true—albeit dangerous love, was beyond you.

The scripture on his handsome, albeit matured face distracted you for a few seconds. You snapped out of it when Jungkook suddenly hauled you up by the midsection and slammed you down on the bed, pinning his hand down between your shoulder blades and rendering you defenseless.

“What are you doing? Taehyung! Please! Get him off of me!”

“If I could trust you to stay still, I would.” His voice was neutral again, despite a offhanded sniff. You struggled to look back, but it was no use as he was standing out of view.

“Stay still for what?”

“Do you still have your ring?” He asked instead, ignoring you.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. Now tell me—“

“Told you she kept it,” Jungkook finally spoke— and just like it was back then, it was a very rare occurrence for when he did speak on your behalf. That’s another thing nobody else dared to do, unless asked. But knowing that he was the one stalking you for Taehyung made you all the more disturbed with him.

“Fucking creep. You’re hurting me!” you screamed at him, and he had the audacity to increase pressure. Tae said nothing, nor did he stop his friend from retaliating.

“I also know about your little affair with your coworker. Since when did you start swinging both ways?”

“What are you talking about?” You growled, and he only snorted in response.

“She knows you like her. She knows you stare at her ass every time she bends over and that you bend over on purpose to make her look at yours. She knows you like it when she slaps it.”

You, one again, went unmoving.

Jeon Jungkook is her fucking boyfriend.

“What does Jk even stand for?”

“Jackson. But he doesn’t like to be called Jackie, and you know how I am about nicknames. So I call him JK.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Jungkook. You leave her alone. Tae, don’t you let him—“

“Don’t you worry about me.”

“BALEY?!”

Baley walked into view, an unreadable expression on her face. The mere realization of what was happening finally over filled your mental tolerance and you brain suddenly launched you away from reality.

The beach. You were at the beach with your cousins, all of you a little over the age of 18. You were on spring break your senior year in highschool and talking about the future. Graduation. Prom. College~

“She’s zoned out.” Baley said, and Jungkook finally let go. You were indeed paralyzed and had completely dissociated, talking to yourself. Taehyung, with a fully-loaded syringe in his hand, leaned over to look at your face. Your pupils were dilated, eyes stargazing in general, lips softly moving as you babbled nonsense. He hated knowing that it was coming to this, but he swore he’d earn your forgiveness.

“I’m gonna get your ear fixed.. or at least get you a better device. We’re gonna be okay. We’re so fucking rich now, I don’t even know what to do with all our money— only to turn it into more. I won’t have to work as much. We can get married, have the best fucking honey moon we can imagine. We can get started on a family. I’ll win your dog over, too. I promise.”

He sank the needle into your bicep, and you didn’t even flinch. Only blinked in rhythm as a tear fell.

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.” You incoherently muttered, having said that to your friend, Jessica, on the beach.

It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. Whatever memory you were reliving at the moment, was quite sometime before you actually began your classes for such profession. He bent down and kissed your cheek one last time as he injected the entirety sedation serum into your system and pulled it out. But you were oblivious to it all.

“I think I’m smart enough...”

”You’re very book smart, baby. But you’re probably gonna drop out after three semesters and become a bar tender at a strip club, because you’re not fit to be a homicidal investigator. You’re too soft.”

“I’m not..”

“You sure?”

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.”

“Well, you’re gonna become my wife before you become anything else.”

“Ew, don’t even play like that. You’re my cousin.”

“Jeez..” Baley muttered. “You really have driven her a little bat-shit, huh? This is way more disturbing than I anticipated—“

“Babe, lets go sit in the car. Come on,” Jungkook hurried, pulling her out of the room.

Taehyung continued to whisper sweet nothings into your deafened ear, but the last night you heard before it all went blank was the perfect, bittersweet saying that bidded you goodbye for the night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey.”

#yandere society #bts #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts x reader

[painted-crow]

Secondary Toast Revolving Door, Part 1

I guess I should start with a little about me, since that’s easier than making you pick through previous asks for information and some of you guys are new here. This one’s going to be heavily personal, so you can skip it if you want.

I’m a double Bird. My Bird primary system is heavily Badger influenced, and I also use Lion to support it by telling me when I should investigate something more closely. If we can dip into primary territory for a moment, I guess you can say I understand the world through systems that model things around me. But not all of those systems are things I’ve consciously examined, or fully investigated.

My understanding of how historical people dressed is pretty limited, for example, because I haven’t studied it in depth to get all the information—but I consciously understand what I do know about it. You could say this system piece is tiny but clear; I could expand it if I chose to find out more.

My understanding of how someone I’m not close to thinks might have more data to work with, but I haven’t consciously processed it; that’s the kind of thing where my Lion primary model will tell me to look closer if that person starts acting weird. This system piece might be described as huge but fuzzy; I could clarify it if I sat down and thought about it. I probably have more of these than I realize, but Lion basically takes care of monitoring those. I don’t have to investigate everything.

But some of my systems are both large and fairly clear, because I’ve taken the time both to gather data on them and to examine it. My understanding of myself is… well, I won’t say it’s terribly clear, because I’m in my early twenties and I’m still constantly getting new information, plus someone keeps changing the environment and mucking with my data (that would be me). But I have to examine it, because my brain is like a notoriously buggy piece of software and I’m the poor schmuck saddled with tech support duties.

Basically, the reason I’m good at playing therapist with other people is that I’m constantly doing exactly that thing with myself. (This probably makes me a very annoying patient for actual therapists.)

About that buggy brain, then.

I have major depression. That was professionally diagnosed when I was a teenager and it’s probably genetic. I take medication for it, when I remember to. It especially flares up in the winter or when I’m under stress. I probably have some kind of anxiety disorder too.

I’m almost certainly autistic, which I’ve never brought up with a professional—the first person to figure it out was the system I’m now best friends with, because they’re autistic and they knew I was within two weeks of talking to me. It took me two years to catch up with them and figure it out myself.

In my defense, I thought executive dysfunction, sensory overwhelm, dissociation, and hyperempathy were like… secret menu items for depression, because those only really bug me during depressive episodes. My current theory is that they’re related to autistic burnout instead.

I mask a lot, subconsciously—it’s actually really hard to turn that off normally—and I just can’t do that as much when depressed. If I do, my tolerance for everything else goes way down and I’ll go into overwhelm and start having shutdowns and dissociating. I recover pretty quickly (hours, not days), but if you’ve never spent 15 minutes standing in a Walmart aisle trying to decide whether you want a jar of peanut butter, but you can’t make decisions because you can’t access your emotions and you don’t really feel like you’re “here” but you kind of just want to go home… well, be glad I guess.

Of course, I have other autistic traits that show up when I’m not under stress, but they’re seldom associated with autism because most people don’t know what autis are like when we’re actually happy. Like, hyperlexia? That’s not even an “official” word, the auti community just uses it because “official” literature hasn’t caught up. I taught myself to read at age three (according to my mom; she says I was reading news headlines and stuff, not just books I’d memorized) and wrote a 35k word novella when I was ten, with no external prompting. My audio processing used to be terrible, but I routinely tested at college age reading levels as a kid.

I also might have ADHD? If so, it’s also mostly just noticeable if I’m under stress, and then it’s hard to tell if that’s the issue or if it’s just autism/depression again.

You might be getting a clearer picture of how my secondary and its model end up burnt so often!

(Resisting a very strong urge to cut stuff from this post.)

In short, I was a Gifted Kid. I spent a lot of my teen years biting off more than I could chew, honestly. I felt that I should be able to do more, and I wanted to be taken seriously, but I had basically no idea how to take care of myself because my needs are different from everyone else’s. I’m still figuring those out.

I’m kind of like an orchid plant: incredibly picky about conditions, wants a different “soil” and watering schedule, gets stressed if stuff changes too quickly, but when everything is just right and it does bloom, it goes all out.

I’m not kidding when I say that I have odd needs. One of them is the need for creative work, which seems to be hardwired into me. When I say that art or writing keeps me sane, I often hear back “oh yeah! I’ve heard that can be very therapeutic,” which is an innocuous reply, but it’s always bugged me, and I think I’ve figured out why.

First, because that’s not the reason I make things… I just… have to. Second, I can’t “make up” not doing creative work with some other kind of therapy. Third and most importantly, I’d much rather think of “artist” as my ground state, and depression as a condition that happens when my needs aren’t being met, rather than thinking of depression as the default that I’m just using art to escape from. That seems to me a healthier way of thinking, and probably a more accurate one, but I’m probably the only one who can see that distinction.

If life gets in the way and I can’t make space for creative work, it will actively make my depression worse. I know this because, multiple times, I’ve been unable to pinpoint why I’m feeling shitty, and then I go back to my easel or my writing or (ukulele, cooking, even just taking care of houseplants) and realize I haven’t done anything creative in like a month and thaaaat’s the problem.

I crack open a bottle of gesso to prep some canvases and it smells like… well, I don’t think you can get high off gesso? But it’s not like when you’re out of it on painkillers or cold medicine or whatever. It’s incredibly grounding, like the world snaps back into focus but it’s also oddly euphoric. Or I write ten thousand words in a couple days and it just… I don’t know what that does. I’ve never run across a word for it.

The writer of Smile at Strangers (a really good memoir centered around women, anxiety, and karate) describes a similar feeling in relation to her martial arts practice.

It’s also a bit like when all the snow melts after winter and you step outside and there’s the smell of wet soil under sunlight and I’m not sure if this fully translates for people who don’t have seasonal depression. Sorry.

Dammit, I want to paint… I haven’t had space to set up for like eight months. I’ve been nose-deep in writing projects since last summer for a reason, but right now my friggin Ravenclaw secondary is off angsting about something because of Life Stress Bullshit, and I don’t have the focus to work on any of my writing projects. Apart from this one. But it’s not really what I want in terms of creative work.

*velociraptor screech*

Oh, yeah. I guess I could mention this is why my nickname is Paint. Not sure if that was obvious before. The header image (which is more visible in the app for some reason) is one of my paintings. It’s a tiny one and it’s not one of my favorites, but I had the photo on my phone and the colors work well enough for what I needed.

(restrains self from negging my own painting ability)

This is starting to get into spoiler territory for what burned Ravenclaw secondary looks like, huh? It’s peaced out for a couple weeks at this point. I’m trying to write about what made it take off, but my ability to think of words and form a coherent sentence kinda flew out the window when I approached it directly.

Let’s just say that around the start of the month, someone I was talking to online (if you’re reading this, it’s definitely not you) kindaaaa hit a nasty depression trigger of mine. Not their fault—it’s very specific to me, and I struggle to explain why I can’t really talk about it. Basically, I spent years studying programming and web design, and due to several different but related issues during that experience, it’s now a trigger for me. I very much want it not to be, but trying to train that out of myself has induced more than one panic attack and I’m stuck between giving up on it or figuring out a way to go back to it that doesn’t totally shut my brain down.

That paragraph took forever to write, by the way.

I think I have to end this here. I… am going to go take out the trash, and water my plants, and make my bed, and file some paperwork, and maybe I’ll even mix up some bread dough or do some laundry. Spoiler alert for what it looks like when my Hufflepuff model takes over, I guess.

Oh. And I should maybe probably eat something. I almost forgot about that... again.

#sortinghatchats #time to overshare on the internet i guess #secondary toast revolving door #mental health #burned ravenclaw secondary #hufflepuff secondary model #ravenclaw primary #paint speaks

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Religious Trauma Syndrome: How Some Organized Religion Leads to Mental Health Problems

By Valerie Tarico

Marlene Winell interviewed March 25, 2013

At age sixteen I began what would be a four year struggle with bulimia. When the symptoms started, I turned in desperation to adults who knew more than I did about how to stop shameful behavior—my Bible study leader and a visiting youth minister.  “If you ask anything in faith, believing,” they said. “It will be done.” I knew they were quoting [3] the Word of God. We prayed together, and I went home confident that God had heard my prayers. But my horrible compulsions didn’t go away. By the fall of my sophomore year in college, I was desperate and depressed enough that I made a suicide attempt. The problem wasn’t just the bulimia. I was convinced by then that I was a complete spiritual failure. My college counseling department had offered to get me real help (which they later did). But to my mind, at that point, such help couldn’t fix the core problem: I was a failure in the eyes of God. It would be years before I understood that my inability to heal bulimia through the mechanisms offered by biblical Christianity was not a function of my own spiritual deficiency but deficiencies in Evangelical religion itself.  

Dr. Marlene Winell is a human development consultant in the San Francisco Area. She is also the daughter of Pentecostal missionaries. This combination has given her work an unusual focus. For the past twenty years she has counseled men and women in recovery from various forms of fundamentalist religion including the Assemblies of God denomination in which she was raised. Winell is the author of Leaving the Fold – A Guide for Former Fundamentalists and Others Leaving their Religion [4], written during her years of private practice in psychology. Over the years, Winell has provided assistance to clients whose religious experiences were even more damaging than mine. Some of them are people whose psychological symptoms weren’t just exacerbated by their religion, but actually caused by it.  

Two years ago, Winell made waves by formally labeling what she calls “Religious Trauma Syndrome” (RTS) and beginning to write and speak on the subject for professional audiences. When the British Association of Behavioral and Cognitive Psychologists published a series of articles on the topic, members of a Christian counseling association protested what they called excessive attention to a “relatively niche topic.” One commenter said, “A religion, faith or book cannot be abuse but the people interpreting can make anything abusive.”

Is toxic religion simply misinterpretation? What is religious trauma? Why does Winell believe religious trauma merits its own diagnostic label?

Let’s start this interview with the basics. What exactly is religious trauma syndrome?

Winell: Religious trauma syndrome (RTS) is a set of symptoms and characteristics that tend to go together and which are related to harmful experiences with religion. They are the result of two things: immersion in a controlling religion and the secondary impact of leaving a religious group. The RTS label provides a name and description that affected people often recognize immediately. Many other people are surprised by the idea of RTS, because in our culture it is generally assumed that religion is benign or good for you. Just like telling kids about Santa Claus and letting them work out their beliefs later, people see no harm in teaching religion to children.

But in reality, religious teachings and practices sometimes cause serious mental health damage. The public is somewhat familiar with sexual and physical abuse in a religious context. As Journalist Janet Heimlich has documented in, Breaking Their Will, Bible-based religious groups that emphasize patriarchal authority in family structure and use harsh parenting methods can be destructive.

But the problem isn’t just physical and sexual abuse. Emotional and mental treatment in authoritarian religious groups also can be damaging because of 1) toxic teachings like eternal damnation or original sin 2) religious practices or mindset, such as punishment, black and white thinking, or sexual guilt, and 3) neglect that prevents a person from having the information or opportunities to develop normally.

Can you give me an example of RTS from your consulting practice?

Winell: I can give you many. One of the symptom clusters is around fear and anxiety. People indoctrinated into fundamentalist Christianity as small children sometimes have memories of being terrified by images of hell and apocalypse before their brains could begin to make sense of such ideas. Some survivors, who I prefer to call “reclaimers,” [8] have flashbacks, panic attacks, or nightmares in adulthood even when they intellectually no longer believe the theology. One client of mine, who during the day functioned well as a professional, struggled with intense fear many nights. She said,

“I was afraid I was going to hell. I was afraid I was doing something really wrong. I was completely out of control. I sometimes would wake up in the night and start screaming, thrashing my arms, trying to rid myself of what I was feeling. I’d walk around the house trying to think and calm myself down, in the middle of the night, trying to do some self-talk, but I felt like it was just something that – the fear and anxiety was taking over my life.” Or consider this comment, which refers to a film [9] used by evangelicals to warn about the horrors of the “end times” for nonbelievers.

“I was taken to see the film “A Thief In The Night”. WOW.  I am in shock to learn that many other people suffered the same traumas I lived with because of this film. A few days or weeks after the film viewing, I came into the house and mom wasn’t there. I stood there screaming in terror. When I stopped screaming, I began making my plan: Who my Christian neighbors were, who’s house to break into to get money and food. I was 12 years old and was preparing for Armageddon alone.”

In addition to anxiety, RTS can include depression, cognitive difficulties, and problems with social functioning. In fundamentalist Christianity, the individual is considered depraved and in need of salvation. A core message is “You are bad and wrong and deserve to die.” (The wages of sin is death [10].) This gets taught to millions of children through organizations like Child Evangelism Fellowship [11] and there is a group organized [12]  to oppose their incursion into public schools.  I’ve had clients who remember being distraught when given a vivid bloody image of Jesus paying the ultimate price for their sins. Decades later they sit telling me that they can’t manage to find any self-worth.

“After twenty-seven years of trying to live a perfect life, I failed. . . I was ashamed of myself all day long. My mind battling with itself with no relief. . . I always believed everything that I was taught but I thought that I was not approved by God. I thought that basically I, too, would die at Armageddon.

“I’ve spent literally years injuring myself, cutting and burning my arms, taking overdoses and starving myself, to punish myself so that God doesn’t have to punish me. It’s taken me years to feel deserving of anything good.”

Born-again Christianity and devout Catholicism [13] tell people they are weak and dependent, calling on phrases like “lean not unto your own understanding [14]” or “trust and obey [11].” People who internalize these messages can suffer from learned helplessness. I’ll give you an example from a client who had little decision-making ability after living his entire life devoted to following the “will of God.” The words here don’t convey the depth of his despair.

“I have an awful time making decisions in general. Like I can’t, you know, wake up in the morning, “What am I going to do today?” Like I don’t even know where to start. You know all the things I thought I might be doing are gone and I’m not sure I should even try to have a career; essentially I babysit my four-year-old all day.”

Authoritarian religious groups are subcultures where conformity is required in order to belong. Thus if you dare to leave the religion, you risk losing your entire support system as well.

“I lost all my friends. I lost my close ties to family. Now I’m losing my country. I’ve lost so much because of this malignant religion and I am angry and sad to my very core. . . I have tried hard to make new friends, but I have failed miserably. . . I am very lonely.”

Leaving a religion, after total immersion, can cause a complete upheaval of a person’s construction of reality, including the self, other people, life, and the future. People unfamiliar with this situation, including therapists, have trouble appreciating the sheer terror it can create.

“My form of religion was very strongly entrenched and anchored deeply in my heart. It is hard to describe how fully my religion informed, infused, and influenced my entire worldview. My first steps out of fundamentalism were profoundly frightening and I had frequent thoughts of suicide. Now I’m way past that but I still haven’t quite found “my place in the universe.”

Even for a person who was not so entrenched, leaving one’s religion can be a stressful and significant transition.

Many people seem to walk away from their religion easily, without really looking back. What is different about the clientele you work with?

Winell: Religious groups that are highly controlling, teach fear about the world, and keep members sheltered and ill-equipped to function in society are harder to leave easily. The difficulty seems to be greater if the person was born and raised in the religion rather than joining as an adult convert. This is because they have no frame of reference – no other “self” or way of “being in the world.” A common personality type is a person who is deeply emotional and thoughtful and who tends to throw themselves wholeheartedly into their endeavors. “True believers” who then lose their faith feel more anger and depression and grief than those who simply went to church on Sunday.

Aren’t these just people who would be depressed, anxious, or obsessive anyways?

Winell: Not at all. If my observation is correct, these are people who are intense and involved and caring. They hang on to the religion longer than those who simply “walk away” because they try to make it work even when they have doubts. Sometimes this is out of fear, but often it is out of devotion. These are people for whom ethics, integrity and compassion matter a great deal. I find that when they get better and rebuild their lives, they are wonderfully creative and energetic about new things.

In your mind, how is RTS different from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?

Winell: RTS is a specific set of symptoms and characteristics that are connected with harmful religious experience, not just any trauma. This is crucial to understanding the condition and any kind of self-help or treatment. (More details about this can be found on my Journey Free [15] website and discussed in my talk [16] at the Texas Freethought Convention.)

Another difference is the social context, which is extremely different from other traumas or forms of abuse. When someone is recovering from domestic abuse, for example, other people understand and support the need to leave and recover. They don’t question it as a matter of interpretation, and they don’t send the person back for more. But this is exactly what happens to many former believers who seek counseling. If a provider doesn’t understand the source of the symptoms, he or she may send a client for pastoral counseling, or to AA, or even to another church. One reclaimer expressed her frustration this way:

“Include physically-abusive parents who quote “Spare the rod and spoil the child” as literally as you can imagine and you have one fucked-up soul: an unloved, rejected, traumatized toddler in the body of an adult. I’m simply a broken spirit in an empty shell. But wait...That’s not enough!? There’s also the expectation by everyone in society that we victims should celebrate this with our perpetrators every Christmas and Easter!!”

Just like disorders such as autism or bulimia, giving RTS a real name has important advantages. People who are suffering find that having a label for their experience helps them feel less alone and guilty. Some have written to me to express their relief:

“There’s actually a name for it! I was brainwashed from birth and wasted 25 years of my life serving Him! I’ve since been out of my religion for several years now, but I cannot shake the haunting fear of hell and feel absolutely doomed. I’m now socially inept, unemployable, and the only way I can have sex is to pay for it.”

Labeling RTS encourages professionals to study it more carefully, develop treatments, and offer training. Hopefully, we can even work on prevention.

What do you see as the difference between religion that causes trauma and religion that doesn’t?

Winell: Religion causes trauma when it is highly controlling and prevents people from thinking for themselves and trusting their own feelings. Groups that demand obedience and conformity produce fear, not love and growth. With constant judgment of self and others, people become alienated from themselves, each other, and the world. Religion in its worst forms causes separation.

Conversely, groups that connect people and promote self-knowledge and personal growth can be said to be healthy. The book, Healthy Religion [17], describes these traits. Such groups put high value on respecting differences, and members feel empowered as individuals.  They provide social support, a place for events and rites of passage, exchange of ideas, inspiration, opportunities for service, and connection to social causes. They encourage spiritual practices that promote health like meditation or principles for living like the golden rule. More and more, non-theists are asking [18] how they can create similar spiritual communities without the supernaturalism. An atheist congregation [19] in London launched this year and has received over 200 inquiries from people wanting to replicate their model.

Some people say that terms like “recovery from religion” and “religious trauma syndrome” are just atheist attempts to pathologize religious belief.

Winell: Mental health professionals have enough to do without going out looking for new pathology. I never set out looking for a “niche topic,” and certainly not religious trauma syndrome. I originally wrote a paper for a conference of the American Psychological Association and thought that would be the end of it. Since then, I have tried to move on to other things several times, but this work has simply grown.

In my opinion, we are simply, as a culture, becoming aware of religious trauma. More and more people are leaving religion, as seen by polls [20] showing that the “religiously unaffiliated” have increased in the last five years from just over 15% to just under 20% of all U.S. adults. It’s no wonder the internet is exploding with websites for former believers from all religions, providing forums [21] for people to support each other. The huge population of people “leaving the fold” includes a subset at risk for RTS, and more people are talking about it and seeking help.  For example, there are thousands of former Mormons [22], and I was asked to speak about RTS at an Exmormon Foundation conference.  I facilitate an international support group online called Release and Reclaim [23]  which has monthly conference calls. An organization called Recovery from Religion, [24] helps people start self-help meet-up groups

Saying that someone is trying to pathologize authoritarian religion is like saying someone pathologized eating disorders by naming them. Before that, they were healthy? No, before that we weren’t noticing. People were suffering, thought they were alone, and blamed themselves.  Professionals had no awareness or training. This is the situation of RTS today. Authoritarian religion is already pathological, and leaving a high-control group can be traumatic. People are already suffering. They need to be recognized and helped. _______________________________

Statistics update:

Numbers of American ‘nones’ continues to rise

October 18, 2019

By David Crary – Associated Press

The portion of Americans with no religious affiliation is rising significantly, in tandem with a sharp drop in the percentage that identifies as Christians, according to new data from the Pew Research Center. …

Pew says all categories of the religiously unaffiliated population – often referred to as the “nones” grew in magnitude. Self-described atheists now account for 4% of U.S. adults, up from 2% in 2009; agnostics account for 5%, up from 3% a decade ago; and 17% of Americans now describe their religion as “nothing in particular,” up from 12% in 2009.

https://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2019/1018/Numbers-of-American-nones-continues-to-rise

_______________________________

Marlene Winell interviewed by Valerie Tarico on recovering from religious trauma Uploaded on January 31, 2011

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIfABmbqSMA

24:12

On Moral Politics, a TV program with host Dr. Valerie Tarico, Marlene Winell describes the trauma that can result from harmful experiences with religious indoctrination. Dr. Winell explains that mental health issues are widespread and need to be understood just as we understand PTSD. There are steps to recovery, treatment modalities, and resources available as well. She now refers to this as RTS or Religious Trauma Syndrome. _______________________________

Links:
 
[3] https://www.biblestudyonjesuschrist.com/pog/ask1.htm 
[4] https://marlenewinell.net/leaving-fold-former 
[8] https://journeyfree.org/article/reclaimers/ 
[9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Thief_in_the_Night_%28film%29 
[10] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+6%3A23&version=KJV 
[11] https://valerietarico.com/2011/02/04/our-public-schools-their-mission-field/ 
[12] http://www.intrinsicdignity.com/ 
[13] https://www.maryjohnson.co/an-unquenchable-thirst/ 
[14] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+3%3A5-6&version=KJV [15] https://journeyfree.org/category/uncategorized/ [16] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrE4pMBlis 
[17] https://www.amazon.com/Healthy-Religion-Psychological-Guide-Mature/dp/1425924166 [18] https://www.humanistchaplaincy.org/ [19] https://www.christianpost.com/news/london-atheist-church-model-looking-to-expand-worldwide-91516 [20] https://www.pewforum.org/2012/10/09/nones-on-the-rise/ 
[21] https://new.exchristian.net/ 
[22] https://www.exmormon.org/ 
[23] https://journeyfree.org/group-forum/ [24] https://www.recoveringfromreligion.org/

_____________________________________

Get God’s Self-Appointed Messengers Out of Your Head

Valerie Tarico Which buzz phrases from your past are stuck in your brain? “God’s messengers” were all real complicated people with biases, blind spots, favorite foods and morning breath. They were not gods and they are not you. So how can you get them out of your head or at least reduce them to muffled background noise?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ElfyYA420F0

#religious trauma syndrome #Marlene Winell #Valerie Tarico

[tuanhood]

35,000 ft

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff?, exes to lovers

warnings: 18+, language, dirty talk, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, public sex (mile high club ALERT)

word count: 9,800+

summary: two years have passed since you last saw your ex-boyfriend. when you’ve thought about running into him again, it certainly wasn’t at 35,000 ft and it certainly wasn’t like this. 

a/n: wow my longest one shot yet... UMMM it’s a little messy and all over the place but don’t hesitate to let me know what you think or if anyone wants to cry over the photos of Mark at home playing in the pool sMH. also i do not CONDONE cheating fyI 

part 2: 125 ft

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll call you when I land…” You mumbled through the phone, half paying attention and half trying to decide which sandwich would best suit your needs. 

“Okay but seriously… call me. I hate it when you’re over there enough so not getting a call freaks me out even more.” 

You wanted to roll your eyes and gag, but you stopped yourself knowing that it wasn’t what a typical girlfriend would do when on the phone with her boyfriend. You two were supposed to still be in the honeymoon phase, not the “he gives me the ick” phase already. 

Then again, you had never even been in the “he gives me the ick” phase before. Yay for new experiences you guessed. 

“Brian, it’s so fine. It’s one of the safest cities in the world, I’ve been so many times I don’t even need a map to tell me where I’m going.” 

“I hope you still do though… Use a map. I don’t want you to get lost and I know that’s easy to do in those modern, technologically advanced smart cities.”

Being with Brian sometimes felt like there wasn’t even a fourth wave of feminism. 

You weren’t sure why you were sticking around. Part of you felt pressured because you hadn’t had any actual relationships in… well awhile and your mom was constantly asking when you were finally going to get a ring on your finger and give her a grandchild. 

Judging by all the outside influences that were currently controlling your life, it felt like maybe there isn’t a fourth wave of feminism. You were setting everyone back just based on your own sad life. Maybe it was best to just dump Brian and go back to your hook up days, the year and a half before him that was just endless amounts of sex with random guys trying to fix a piece of you that would never be put back together. 

“Y/n? Are you still there?” 

“Yup, still here Brian.” 

Even after being together for almost 6 months you couldn’t bring it in you to call him something besides his name. It was always Brian this, Brian that. Calling him a pet name made you cringe. 

Yeah… Maybe it was definitely time to break up with him. 

“Listen… I should go. I want to get something to eat before they start boarding since it’s a long one and all.” 

But you’ll just do it later. 

“Okay… sounds good. Get a small sandwich or something so you’ll feel full enough before they actually feed you on the plane.” 

Suddenly you didn’t want a sandwich. 

“Got it… Bye.” 

“Love you, bye.” 

You hear a noise letting you know the call has been disconnected and drop your hand, gripping the device at your side. 

That was another thing. Brian had told you only 3 months of dating that he loved you – to which you had responded with “oh wow… that’s- that’s… so nice of you.” Being the nice guy, he was completely fine with you not saying it back, because he felt so sure that one day you would. He understood that you had issues with a past relationship that you weren’t quite ready to let go of yet, therefore your heart wasn’t completely available. He felt with time you would give in and love him too. 

As of now you weren’t too sure… Especially if you did end up breaking up with him. At a later date and time of course. Maybe when you came back? 

Your mind went blank as you looked at the shelves of the poorly made airport food in front of you. The sandwiches that had once looked good and enticing suddenly lost their luster and the last thing you wanted to do was waste money on one. Sighing, you glanced back down at the phone in your hand. The object felt more like a heavy weight and a burden rather than just a phone. It wasn’t due to work or family; it was just all because of Brian. 

You’re startled when your phone comes to life once again under your gaze, buzzing softly. 

Brian. Remember don’t forget to text me when you board! 

It was like he had a sixth sense for whenever you were thinking of him. And to be honest it wasn’t that often. 

A couple of weeks ago you were out to lunch with a few friends from college and when updating those who you hadn’t seen in a while on the goings-on of your life, you had at first redacted the fact that you had a boyfriend completely. 

“Anyone romantic in your life?” Your friend Alice had asked you. 

Without thinking you had begun telling her how he was in game design and was from LA just like you, but soon cut yourself off before you could talk about how cute his dog was. That’s when you realized you weren’t talking about Brian. Brian was in fucking accounting, not game design and was 100% allergic to any kind of animal. When your friend asked about your love life, you had him in mind and not Brian even though so much time had gone by.

You were starting to believe that you weren’t ready for a relationship at all.

Sighing, you figured that maybe chips would be a better and less smelly option for the plane ride. Knowing yourself you would probably dig into them within the first thirty minutes of the thirteen-hour trip. 

You whip around to find wherever your newly desired snack choice could be when you catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of your eye. The goosebumps that make their way to the surface of your skin and the hair on the back of your neck standing up so eagerly causes your entire body to freeze with fear. There was only one person who made you feel this way, one person who made your blood run cold. The person you had just indirectly been thinking of.

No, no it couldn’t be. 

You’re afraid to turn around, because more than anything you don’t want to be right. If you felt stressed thinking about Brian, you were going to have a panic attack from seeing him. Pivoting yourself to the left, you bite your lip anxiously unsure of how you’re supposed to react if you are right. Taking in the sight behind you, you’re met with a father and daughter selecting candy from the shelves of the store. The individual causing your anxiety nowhere in sight. Your entire body relaxes. 

The last thing you wanted was a fiasco in the international terminal at LAX. It certainly wouldn’t do you, your family and your company any good to make headlines. It especially wouldn’t have made Brian happy; he probably would have called you a hundred times in worry. 

“I can’t fucking believe it.” 

And just like that you’re snapped out of your daze, your false security vanished, goosebumps emerging once again. This time there were no questions. That voice. It was him. 

Turning back around you find yourself under the gaze of your ex-boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend who you haven’t seen in over two years. 

You wish you could say that time hadn’t been good to Mark, but that would be a bold-faced lie. He had somehow become even more attractive in the last two years and the only real thing that seemed different about him was his hair color. The last time you had seen him he had been blonde, but now he had opted for a dark brown color. As much as you hated thinking it, it definitely suited him.

The last two years felt like a long blur of trying to forget him and everything or everyone associated with him. Those were of course difficult things to do, many of the people in your shared three-year life with Mark becoming some of your closest allies and the fact that Mark wasn’t an easy person to erase. Since the two of you met – even when you were just friends – you had a magnetic like pull to one another that couldn’t just be forgotten and dismissed. You were even feeling it right now after everything. 

He’s wearing a tight smile, almost as if he too can’t believe you’re standing here in front of him. It was as though you were the one inconveniencing him, when he had been the one to even say something to you. If you had seen him first, you would have turned around and ran the other way pretending like it never happened. For some reason he was willing to acknowledge you. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” his tight smile soon fades away and his voice is smooth as ice, a nonchalance to it that makes you question whether he even cares about this run in.

“Me either. Good to see you… Now if you’ll excuse me…” You replied pushing past him to continue your previous task of looking for chips. Much to your dislike, he follows you as you embark on one of the aisles, your eyes scanning the items placed out oh so carefully. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? What I’ve been up to?” 

The last you had heard of Mark was that he had moved to Beijing after being given a position at a video game development company. At first you had been surprised at Mark taking a job overseas, he had always expressed to you how even over his own dead body he would never leave LA, but ultimately him in China relieved you. No longer did you have to avoid your favorite spots in the city for boba or the park bench where you got most of you best thinking done. You didn’t even have to be worried about getting invited to a party or dinner with a friend, wondering if Mark was going to show up. With Mark gone you could freely have your life back and not walk around with the fear of running into him. But you guessed that it could only have lasted so long before fate – as cruel as she was – brought you two together again. 

“No that’s okay. I’m good,” you go down another aisle, he still follows suit.

Where were those damn chips? 

“If you’re looking for the chips, they’re over there,” he said pointing behind you to the back wall in a location that you should have noticed sooner, “and if you want your favorite brand of salt & vinegar chips, they’re on the bottom shelf.”

Your stomach churned, he thought after all this time he would be able to still just know you like the back of his hand? What snack you’re looking for? What chips you like? No way. 

Wordlessly you march to the back and stare at the shelves in front of you. You felt your hand dangerously moving forward to the bottom to grab the salt & vinegar chips Mark mentioned, but you control yourself and pull back not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Instead you opt for plainly salted kettle chips. 

“Thanks… you’ve been a big help. See you never,” you scoffed turning around to face him and pushing past him to pay for your item, leaving Mark in the dust behind you. 

“What you’re not going to even pretend that it’s nice to see me?” 

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” you practically spat at him, the father and daughter from earlier staring at the two you, the father particularly appalled for your colorful choice of language. 

Mark’s silent and you turn back to the self-checkout to scan your chips, hopeful to not think about your ex-boyfriend for the next thirteen hours. He watches you carefully as you take out your wallet to pay and tap your card against the reader. It isn’t difficult for him to sense the tension in your body, he can see it just from you performing the simple and mundane task of paying. The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause. 

Grabbing your snack, you exit the small store and Mark follows you, grabbing your wrist, he tries again, “you could say something nice? Like you care? It’s been two years y/n… Can’t we just be normal people with each other?” 

At this you feel something in you snap, “I don’t care how much time has fucking passed Mark… I’m never going to get over you just completely throwing our relationship out the window. I can’t believe I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you… I was so fucking dumb to think you cared about me for even one minute. So, to answer your question… no we can’t just be normal people with each other. We were never normal people with each other to begin with.” 

The two of you had started off as friends, just friends. It was something new for Mark, being just friends with a girl and not having sex attached. Many people in your life warned you not to get close to him, that he was just a fuckboy who didn’t care about the emotional – it was only the physical with him. Ultimately you ignored him, becoming his friend and finding that you two just worked together. First you worked together as friends and soon you fell under his Mark Tuan spell, working together as lovers. 

Throughout your entire relationship you did your best to trust Mark, which you accomplished for the most part, but in the back of your head you would constantly hear the voices of everyone around you. You would hear the stories of the girls he had before you and how terribly he treated them, but you ignored it all. After a while you started to think of it all a little less, people even congratulating you on lasting so long with Mark – something that tended to annoy you. You knew that they didn’t see the Mark that you knew, the Mark that wanted to be something else for you, the best for you. Then after three years together, almost a month after your anniversary, you found out he had been with someone else. 

The old Mark had perhaps never truly vanished, but was just immensely good at hiding. 

Now here you were in front of him and you couldn’t tell who this Mark was. 

Mark scoffed, “you haven’t changed at all…” Now he was mad at you? “It’s probably better we just say goodbye here.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.” 

He wanted to say more, but looking at how annoyed you were at merely being close to him, he let it go. It was hard for him to understand how he was feeling. He longed for you, but he also felt a lot of anger towards you that he wasn’t sure how to control. 

Both of you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to be the first one to walk off. Without a word, you both collect yourselves and assumedly prepare to embark on your respective gates. Mark gives you a final glance with his fists now clenched in frustration and turns to walk toward his flight. 

You realize he’s going the same direction as you and you follow awkwardly behind. After a moment – as if he can sense you’re still there – he turns around and scowls at you. 

“Why are you following me?” 

You snorted, the actual audacity of Mark Tuan. This is an airport for fuckssake, you can’t control where your flight is, “as if I would ever follow you! I’m going to my gate! I think the better question is why are you following me?”

“I’m going to my gate!” 

“Okay!” You yell a little too loud, “Okay!” he repeated, matching your volume. You can sense that people are starting to stare at the two of you for your truly unprompted yelling. 

Mark looks back at you once again, rolling his eyes. The two of you may have gates in the same area, but you can’t stand to look at him any longer – much less his back which you couldn’t help but notice has become much broader. Not that you would admit it to him… or anyone. 

You pick up your pace, passing Mark and causing him to trail behind. You expect him to say some snarky remark or rude comment when you go in front of him, but instead all you hear is an annoyed groan. It’s when you finally reach your gate and sit down in the waiting area that you feel Mark is no longer right behind you, but instead frozen in the main concourse, in front of the space you’re seated in. He feels his mouth go dry and he wants to scream. All he wants is to just be rid of you, to not be forced to think of you when you’re right in front of him. He wanted to wipe his brain clean. 

It suddenly dawns you on the reason why Mark is frozen as if he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. You stand up abruptly, “this can’t be happening.” 

He snaps out of his trance with your words and comes closer to the gate, approaching where you’re seated. You’re just about to wave your hands, warning him not to come any closer when he huffs and sits down on a chair only few away from your own. 

“You’re going to Seoul?” He says it as if you being allowed in the Korean peninsula is a disgusting idea. 

“I’ve been traveling between LA and Seoul every 2 months for the last year and a half, so yes I am. Aren’t you supposed to be going to Beijing or something?”

He smirked, “I thought you didn’t care about what I was up to?” 

“I only care if it assures that you’re as far away from me as humanely possible.”

Your ex looks at his watch and at the screen of the gate alerting passengers that boarding would begin in a few minutes, “well since you’re so curious. I didn’t like Beijing, so I found a job in Seoul that I like much better. 

“Didn’t want to come back to LA?” 

He looks back to you and you almost wish he hadn’t, “there’s not really a lot left in LA for me anymore.” 

Both of you stare at one another for a moment, and you feel your stomach flip. Does he mean what I think he means? Your eyes drift down to your lap and you feel yourself pulling out your phone, not needing any more Mark. 

You manage to pass 10 minutes this way, aimlessly refreshing your emails and ignoring Brian’s latest text asking if you’ve boarded yet. Being so engrossed in your phone, you didn’t even notice Mark’s constant glances up at you, wondering what you were looking at or who you were talking to. 

There it is again, he thought to himself, Do I care? Do I not care? What the fuck, make up your mind dude. 

When the call for First-Class boarding comes to your dismay, both you and Mark stand up. You try to just tell yourself that it’s not important, you would probably both be seated aisles apart, not having to spend any more unwarranted time together. 

Even when you’re finally on the plane and find yourself behind him once again in the aisle, you tell yourself that this will be the last moment you have to see Mark Tuan. 

“Here’s your seat sir, can I get you any drinks or snacks before take-off?” the flight attendant asked Mark when she shows him his seat. He gives this shit eating grin that makes you want to slap it off his face, you couldn’t believe he was doing this in front of you. What? Did he think he was going to get to fuck the flight attendant as an extra First-Class amenity? 

“Ah no thank you, I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know if anything changes,” you feel awkward standing in the aisle watching this unfold, especially since you can see the attendant is giving in, blush creeping up on her face from Mark’s smooth gaze. You clear your throat, reminding her that you too are there and she quickly turns to you, an apologetic look on her face. 

“And here's your seat Miss,” she graciously steps back to let you slide into your seat and you don’t move.

This had to be a joke. 

You looked from your seat, to Mark’s and then to the flight attendant. 

“I can’t sit here... I’m sorry but there has to be another seat available.” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but there are no other openings in First Class. We only have seats available back in economy.” 

This couldn’t be happening. You had been saving all of your miles for a First-Class upgrade for forever, there was no way you were going to give it up, “Mark move to coach.” 

“Huh? Are you joking? My company paid for this; I’m not moving back there! You move!” 

How were you supposed to sit in front of Mark Tuan for the next thirteen hours? The man who had loved you so deeply, but also caused you the most pain. 

Just as people had stared at the two of you in the terminal, the other passengers in your surrounding area were also beginning to look. Maybe if the two of you got into one of your notorious screaming matches, someone would feel bad enough and offer to trade. You couldn’t do that to someone, you wouldn’t wish being stuck next to Mark Tuan on a long-haul flight on your worst enemy. Well… Mark was your worst enemy. 

Smiling, you turn back to the flight attendant, “It’s fine… I’ll just stay here. Thank you though.” She gives you a smile, but you can sense some annoyance behind her eyes. You can’t blame her. 

Mark looks at you wide eyed, previously caught up in organizing his space, but snapping out his activities when he hears your dismissal about moving seats, “uh… what are you doing? Are you seriously going to sit here?” 

“Yes Mark. Unlike you, I paid for my seat so I’m not moving anywhere.” 

He scoffed, “Fine.” 

“Fine!” 

-- 

hour one 

“Ma’am could you tell the gentleman in 3A to stop chewing so loudly?” You asked the flight attendant, putting on the sweetest voice possible. Mark was driving you up the wall and you were only an hour into the flight. 

It was almost as though you could hear every single cough, every shifting in his seat and it was all driving you up the wall. Just knowing he was there irked you.

The flight attendant looks clueless and as she opens her mouth slowly, unsure of how to respond. You hear Mark’s low voice grumble from behind you, also addressing the attendant, “uh ma’am can you tell the lady in 2A to mind her own business, pop a xanny and just go to sleep?” 

She clearly wasn’t expecting to deal with any difficult passengers this early on in a thirteen-hour flight. For her sake you wish you could deal with Mark and be more civil, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. 

hour three 

“Y/n…” 

Be strong, you tell yourself, don’t look back, you can get through this.  

“Y/n?” 

It’s probably not important… He just wants to annoy you. 

“Y/n!” 

Screw being strong. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Being in semi-pods in First-Class it was difficult to just whip around and face Mark, to show him your annoyance under the lights beginning to dim. 

“Do you have any extra AirPods?” 

“Why the fuck would I just carry around extra Airpods around with me? Are you an idiot?” You sneered. 

“Jesus Christ I was just asking. You don’t have to be so vicious. Maybe someone should fuck the tension out of you,” he said, mumbling the last part. He says it so quietly and so half assed that you almost think that you misheard him. 

“Choke on a dick Mark,” you replied quietly, not wanting the other passengers to hear or disturb the few who had already drifted asleep. 

He scoffed, “maybe you should be.” 

You were wrong, the Mark that you had reunited with was just the same old fuckboy Mark who didn’t give a fuck about anyone. 

Placing your AirPods in your ears, you close your eyes and ignore the rest of Mark’s efforts to speak to you, just wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up in your hotel room in Seoul. 

hour seven 

You pop your headphones out of your ears in frustration, feeling as though you hadn’t managed to get any real sleep during the hours that had passed. You look behind you to Mark’s seat, and feel relieved to see his eyes closed and a slow, shallow breath coming from his mouth. 

It felt weird to gaze at Mark and know you were no longer apart of his life. Sure, it had been two years, but you hadn’t seen  him or had to deal with the reality that there was now a separate you and a separate Mark. Two entities that had nothing to do with one another anymore. Although sometimes it felt like you were still anchored to him. 

Suddenly he shifted over onto his side, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. The only thing you could make out was your own name. It made you feel uncomfortable, not because he was clearly dreaming about you, but you felt as though you were invading his private space, infiltrating an intimate moment. 

“y/n… please…” he mumbled. 

You felt like you’d heard enough. The flight was making you restless and you weren’t sure what you would do if you kept listening to Mark’s breathless calls for you. Standing up, you decide it’s probably best now to stretch and go to the bathroom, before you embark on your further slumber. 

When you finish up in the bathroom, you almost have a heart attack pulling back the door to be met with Mark’s tall figure.

“Oh my god you scared me,” you said placing your hand on your chest. You shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom with the door closing firmly behind you. Attempting to go back to your seat, you position yourself to move past him, but he moves along with you to keep you from leaving.

“What are you doing?” 

Mark doesn’t know what’s taken over him, he had woken up in a frenzy, his dreams not doing anything to help his mental state. He hadn’t dreamt about you in months, but of course as soon as you’re back in his life he has to have fantasies of you wrapped around him once again. It was torturous, especially with you only a few feet away from him. He dreamed about having you every way and any way, feeling like he was going crazy. When he saw you missing from your seat, he immediately got up almost as if in a sleep induced haze unable to control his actions.

"When are you going to stop pretending that you don’t want to be under me again?” he purred.

Your blood goes cold. Was he drunk? His words make you nervous, scared that someone could hear, but looking around the dark cabin it seemed as though everyone in First-Class was fast asleep. 

“Mark…” you begin, your tone clearly frustrated, but also weakening a bit, clearly evident that his words are affecting you. It had been so long since someone talked to you like this, and you felt that the hours you had spent on the plane already altering your sanity.

“You were always such a good girl for me, what changed? When did you become so stubborn? What happened to my girl who was always so willing and sweet?” 

“I was screwed over by an asshole, that’s what happened,” you mumbled trying to avert his gaze and prayed that maybe if you weren’t to look at him you could pretend that there wasn’t a part of you hanging on his every word. 

“That was in the past. I’ve changed now… But I’m still your boy. Even after two fucking years, I’m still yours.” 

You want to fight with him, say that if he was always your boy and still is then he would have never cheated on you. He would have never spent a night with someone else.  

“Let me fuck the anger out of you.” 

“What?” Okay he had to be drunk.

“You and I have too much sexual tension, and we’re both angry so let’s just fuck to relieve the tension.” 

“You’ve said some pretty fucking dumb things before, but this is… this is…” you drift unsure of what exactly you think it is. 

“A good idea?” 

“Mark I’m not having sex with you in an airplane bathroom.” 

“What? Like that’s bothered you before?” 

When you were with Mark, the two of you would have sex in the riskiest places, so you weren’t a stranger to the kind of sex where you could be caught at any moment, but you had never joined the mile-high club before. 

“We’re not together. I hate you and you hate me… for some reason.” You never understood why exactly Mark had been mad at you all of these years and acted as though you were the devil himself when he had been the one that ruined the two of you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t given him a second chance? Maybe it was from the influence of you hating him? Or maybe it was because you had never been enough for him, otherwise what would have caused him to spend the night with another woman? 

Mark clicked his tongue and it causes you to bring your attention to his mouth. It almost makes you lose focus completely. “So what if we’re not together anymore? Does that matter?” 

Does that matter? 

His words make you remember something. Something very important. 

Brian. 

“Yes, it matters. I-I have a boyfriend,” for some reason the word “boyfriend” seems to be hard to get out. It was always weird to associate Brian as your boyfriend or your “partner,” but saying it to Mark felt like the weight of a ton of bricks. 

In the dark lighting of the cabin you can just make out the frown that spreads across Mark’s face. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone and the cocky façade is back. 

“And that’s a problem?” your ex asked. 

As you’re about to protest and tell him that commitment in relationships is important to you, Mark reaches his hand out to rest on your bare shoulder, running it softly up and down your arms in a soothing pattern. It was a common gesture between the two of you, something Mark would constantly do whenever you were telling a story or the times you would fall asleep at night. It puts you at ease and you feel yourself close your eyes at his touch. 

Mark would be lying if he said the word “boyfriend” coming out of your mouth didn’t disappoint him. In fact, he felt a similar pain to the one he felt two years ago when you had broken up with him. Mark wasn’t daft, he knew what you thought of him – a player, a fuckboy and someone who never cared about you in the first place. It hurt him to know that you were just like everyone else around him who had a preconceived notion of who he was or what he did. At one point in time he thought you were different. 

But now looking at you and having you back in his life – even for only a thirteen-hour plane ride, he just wanted you back in his arms, back under his touch. He knew he should have felt guilty for not giving one fuck about this “boyfriend” you had acquired at some point during your two years apart, but he didn’t care. If he was going to have to be that cocky fuckboy who paid no mind to any consequences to get you, then so be it. 

“Come on… it’s been two years… let me feel that pussy that I’ve missed so so much,” he whispered seductively against the shell of your ear, “let me fuck into it so good, because I know no one’s filled it up so well since me. Especially not that boyfriend.” 

His words cause you to moan involuntarily and the noise awakens both you and him. You immediately shoot your hand up to cover your mouth, unsure of what’s getting into you. You were supposed to hate Mark, you had spent the last two years training yourself to hate him just in case a moment like this were ever to arise. But maybe that was an easier thing to imagine when you hadn’t seen him, because now with his hands gently caressing you and his request to be inside of you once again, you feel anything but hate. You feel want.

“Fuck Mark…” 

“Just say the word baby, and you have me,” he whispered, delicately placing an open mouth kiss on your wrist, slowly continuing up your arm. 

What were the pros and cons of this? If you were in any other difficult situation you would take a pause and list all of the good and bad things that could come from this. The big con was Brian… Even if you had been feeling strange about where your relationship with him was going and found him to be suffocating, you couldn’t do to him what Mark had done to you. Another negative factor emerged in your mind… you didn’t want to be put under Mark’s spell again, you couldn’t. Even being this close to him made you feel things that you had been trying to forget for two years, sleeping with him after all this time would only make it worse. That worried you. But judging on the primal way your body was reacting to Mark – your wet core being a clear sign – you knew this wasn’t going to be a logical decision where the cons outweigh the pros. 

“I-” you’re about to do it, you’re about to gain enough strength to tell him you don’t want him anymore, but when he pushes your hair away from where it lays on your shoulder and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, any willpower you had vanishing. His gentle sucking on the sweet spot of your neck that he knows oh too well causes you to let out a whimper and he smiles against your skin, knowing he has you. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. 

Mark brings his lips back to your ear, “do what baby?” His cocky tone makes you want to roll you eyes. He had always done this – torture you until you were begging to feel his touch. 

You open your eyes and give yourself a moment to readjust to the dark lighting of the plane and focus on Mark’s face in the small space in front of the bathroom. You want to see his gaze when you make your non-logical decision.

“Fuck me.” 

The corner of his mouth turns upwards as he brings his arm forward and behind you to pull open the bathroom door, pushing you backwards into the cramped space. 

It’s when he’s pressed up against you and locks the door behind him that the reality of what you’re doing sets in. Just as you feel yourself get used to the harsh lighting, you freeze at Mark’s intense stare. 

“What are you looking at?” You asked. 

He smiled and glanced down at the floor shyly, then back up at you, “You.” 

For the first time since seeing him again at the airport store you feel those feelings in your stomach. No hate, no indifference and no bitterness towards Mark - not even just lust. Instead you felt a warmth for him that reminded you of the good days, not the bad ones. The swell in your heart worried you and you didn’t want to feel or dwell on it so you lean forward and kiss him.

Mark’s lips on yours doesn’t do anything to eliminate the softness you felt for him moments before, if anything it only intensifies it. It feels as though no time has passed for the two of you and the missing piece of the puzzle that you had been searching for has finally found its way back to you. 

A low growl comes from Mark’s throat and it sends your hands to find shelter in his hair. When you were together you had always had a weird thing for Mark’s hair. You loved running your fingers through it, gently massaging his scalp and tugging at the roots. Mark would always joke that you would probably break up with him if he ever shaved his head, which you didn’t exactly argue with. And now it just felt so good to have your hands where they belong. It’s almost as though Mark’s read your mind and he smiles against you lips when he feels your hands, “pull as hard as you want.” 

You feel his tongue at the seam of your lips, urging itself through to deepen the kiss and you tell yourself that it’s not too late, this can be the moment that you opt out for what a mistake this would be. With his hands drifting down from your hips to your ass, you feel yourself part your mouth voluntarily, realizing that you don’t want to stop this. You want to make this mistake; you want nothing more than to let him feel you and taste you even more. 

“I want to taste you so bad,” Mark whispered against your lips, “see if you taste as good as I remember.” 

You want that more than anything. Mark had always been so good with his tongue and just thinking about the hours he had spent between your thighs in the past made you even wetter than when you were having sex with Brian. Judging however, on the space you were both in, you didn’t know if it was physically possible. He can sense your hesitancy by the way your lips begin to still against his. 

He breaks apart from you and gently rubs his thumb along your jawline and lips, “don’t think too much.” In an instant Mark’s crouched down in the very small space in the bathroom and you immediately find yourself worried about his comfort level, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

He looked up at you, a dark look in his eyes and waved you off, “don’t worry about me babe, I’m about to have the best meal of my life.” At the end of his sentence he reaches up to the hem of your leggings and pulls them, along with your panties down in one sweep, pushing them aside. You’re almost surprised at his loftiness, but you remind yourself that it’s Mark. He moves a hand around to the back of your knee, hoisting one of your legs up onto the closed toilet seat, pushing the rest of your body up against the small sink counter. Although the space was already limited as it was, the position brought your core closer to his face and as you looked down to see the way his tongue stroked across his lips, you felt yourself already get lightheaded. 

He began with leaving open mouth kisses along the inside of your lifted thigh and another on the top of your pubic mound. It was enough to make you feel shaky, as though the one leg that was supporting your weight would give out at any moment. You found yourself unfazed, you knew Mark would be there to catch you if you fell. 

Mark leaned in further, his tongue delving between you folds to gather up as much of your wetness as he could, giving you a noisy taste that had him groaning, head pulling back and licking his lips after his first taste in two years.

“You taste even better than I remember, how the fuck could you get sweeter? I don’t even want to go back to my seat after tasting you, I could sit in this bathroom with my mouth on you till the end of the flight.” 

You found yourself wanting nothing more than to be stuck in this crammed bathroom with Mark for as long as you both could get away with. The person who was contemplating whether or not this was a bad idea didn’t even exist to you anymore. One lap of his tongue on you and you were reminded of all the ways he could make you fall apart. 

He tongued your clit slowly at first, every stroke almost teasing – as if he was making up for the years you two spent a part. His tongue would slip lower, working its way along your gushing entrance to remind you how much he relished your flavor before returning to your clit, the wet sounds of Mark’s sucking not even embarrassing to you. It was when Mark began to groan against you and swirl his tongue and suck that you felt your hands go back to his hair, roughly pulling him closer. 

“Mark, I-I can’t… I’m gonna – fuck,” you moaned out unable to form a functional and coherent thought. As you feel your orgasm on the horizon and just around the corner, you tug at Mark’s roots further, which encourages him to pick up the pace of his tongue, wanting you to cum on his face just like you had many times before. He wanted to drive you to the brink of pleasure, but he also wanted to prove to himself that he could still bring you to the edge with just his tongue.

Any delicacy he had been exhibiting before is completely gone, the way he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves causes your chest to heave and sweat on your brow. You’re so caught up in Mark that you barely notice your foot beginning to slip from its security on the toilet. Mark swiftly acknowledges your pending loss of balance and tugs the leg up onto his shoulder, not removing himself from you for even a moment. 

You could feel yourself twitch and the arching of your hips towards his face, “come on baby I know how close you are, I need you to cum for me. Cum for me like all the times before, all over my face. I want it so bad.” 

Mark’s muffled words against you and the final groans he emits from how much he loves your taste is the last straw as you finally let go and the waves of release crash over you. He doesn’t give way as you buck yourself further into him one final time, his back practically hitting the wall of the bathroom. Your body comes down from your climax and you look to see Mark gratefully clean up the release he caused. When he takes his mouth away, you feel your core wavering against the emptiness and loss of warmth it had felt, almost as though it wanted Mark to be a permanent attachment to you. You’re breathless, head falling back to the mirror behind you as Mark stands up, wiping the back of his mouth and jawline which had become messy and shiny with your juices. 

“I knew you were still my little slut,” he pushes the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind you, “letting me have you in a fucking bathroom at 35,000 feet. How else will you let me have you?” He asked attaching his lips back to that spot on your neck. 

It dawns on you that there’s no winning. You once again are completely under the spell and at the mercy of Mark Tuan, willing to let him do whatever he wants to you. “M-Mark whatever you want.” At your response he simply smirked, quickly pulling his joggers and boxers down, his painfully hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. 

“Fuck I’ve been waiting so long to have you around me again. I never thought I would, and I’m going to make every second count.” 

He positions himself in between your legs, gripping your hips and pauses for a moment, clearly contemplating something. Mark hadn’t planned on having sex on the plane, nor did he plan on even seeing you again. 

“Mark if it’s about the condom, it’s fine… I don’t care, I’m still on the pill and I-I trust you.” 

At your trust in him, something he had so deeply been wanting all these years, he doesn’t hesitant another moment at placing himself at your entrance. His teasingly slow rubbing against your slit causes you to let out almost a growl at how much you needed him to be inside of you.

“How much do you want it y/n?” 

“So bad.” 

He pushes into you suddenly, “you’re still my cockslut, huh?” The feeling is too good and too great to answer him, but he’s not satisfied with your nonresponse.

“Answer me.” He sunk himself inside of you further and you do your best to let out the smallest and most inaudible “yes” you’ve ever heard, which thankfully seems to be enough for him. 

“God,” he groaned, “you’re still so tight.” He looks down at the space where your bodies meet, fixating his gaze at the visual of his cock slipping inside your sensitive and swollen folds. Mark waited for a moment for your pussy to get used to having him inside you again, to get reintroduced to his length and girth which it had been so accustomed to in the past. Despite the time that had passed, you felt no discomfort except for the mental discomfort in your head that just wanted him to fuck into you quickly and harshly. 

“Taking me so well, squeezing every inch of me. This pussy knows who it belongs to, who it deserves to be fucked by.” 

“M-Mark,” a final moan of his name is all it takes for him to begin his first real thrust into you, pulling himself out almost entirely. You feel so sensitive and overworked from your earlier orgasm that you aren’t sure how long you can last with the way your walls are clenching around Mark. 

His pace soon became brutal and you’re thankful the loud sound of the engine could cover up the whimpers coming from your mouth and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Mark’s fingers press into your hips so firmly that you know there will be bruises that you’ll have to explain later, but for now the only thing you can focus on is how full Mark is making you feel. He removes his hand from your side and brings it down between the two of you, fixating on your clit, rubbing until it ached. It caused your body to clench on him further, the continual touch and his fucking into you making you roll your eyes into the back of your head. 

Mark groaned at how snug you felt and how deep you were taking him, his head falling into the crook of your neck and against the bathroom mirror, “whose are you?” 

You know what he wants you to say, but you don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, even in the heat of the moment. It could lead to misunderstandings and a more complex outcome than just that of having sex with him in a fucking airplane bathroom. 

“Whose are you?” He repeated, this time a little bit softer and removing his head from your shoulder to look at you with worrisome eyes. Mark knows that if you say you’re his it’d most likely be untrue, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to hear it one more time, even if it’s a complete and utter lie. He wants to know he has you, even if it’s for this one moment. 

“Yours, I’m all yours,” you breathe out. It comes out on its own, without any time for you to process or comprehend what you’re saying. It surprises you so much that you aren’t even sure if it’s a lie or not. 

That’s all he needed and he thrusts into you even harder, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to completely fall apart and combust. You’re too caught up in the pleasure of him ramming into you that you don’t even feel the pain that comes with your backside being continually pushed into small counter of the sink. 

“Cum for me baby, I’m close and I need us to do this together. It’s all I want,” Mark said. His tone perplexes you. It’s forceful and authoritative something that you were no stranger to when it came to sex with Mark, but there was a clear tenderness to it that had you second guessing everything. Maybe this wasn’t just sex. 

It’s one more strum of his cock against your g-spot and the pinching of your clit with his thumb and index finger that has you climaxing around him. The almost violent pulse from your pussy around him due to your orgasm has Mark following close behind, spilling himself deep inside of you. The ecstasy coursing through you causes your entire body to shake and twitch, wanting to collapse completely onto the bathroom floor. You fall against Mark’s body and in his own exhausted state he holds you close, protectively wrapping his arms around you making you feel secure. 

You should want to get out of the situation immediately as a one-time thing, but somehow you can’t bring it in you to remove yourself from his grasp. You felt at home with Mark’s arms around you and him still inside of you. It was a comfort a sense of normalcy you hadn’t felt with anyone since Mark. He softly strokes your hair, placing gentle kisses on the top of your head remembering how much you liked it after a tiring session of sex.

It feels as though no time has passed, but soon you find yourself out of Mark’s hold. He removes his now soft cock from you and you can feel yours and his cum leaking from your core, down to your thighs. It’s almost as though this movement has finally woken you up. You delicately collapse onto the toilet, making sure to take extra care with your now jelly-like legs. With your head in your hands in disbelief at the actions you had just willingly followed through on, Mark stares at you. 

“Fuck… I’m so mad at myself.”

With the small amount of space, he has, Mark shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “why? That was so fucking great.” 

You looked up at him in a scolding manner, he still had no perception of reality, but apparently now you were one and the same. “Because now I did the same thing to Brian that you did to me.”

There’s a pause and Mark avoids all eye contact with you. He had imagined this talk so many times – the talk the two of you never got to have and he really didn’t want it to be here, like this. But by some strike of luck, fate had brought you back to him, even for a short period of time and he may never get the opportunity to come clean again. 

Choosing to continue to avert your gaze, Mark sighs deeply and busies himself with pulling up his joggers. 

“I didn’t cheat on you.”  

You feel like ice and your whole body goes numb, “W-what?” 

He sighs again, looking down, “I never cheated on you.” 

You think there’s no way you could have heard him correctly. Your entire break up, the reason you ended your passionate love story with the one person you saw a future with came from his cheating. It couldn’t be a lie… Could it? 

One thing was for certain, you knew Mark so well and judging by the fidgeting and fiddling with his fingers you can tell you still do. And he was telling the truth. Your stomach flipped. 

“Then why did you let me believe that you did?”

“You were the only person in my life who didn’t believe all those stupid rumors about me, the only person who didn’t believe I was a fuckboy like everyone thought… but then the moment someone tells you they think they saw me with someone, you pack your bags. I figured you wouldn’t believe me, just like everyone else.”

It’s ridiculous. The words coming out of his mouth are ridiculous, but part of you understands what he’s saying. Maybe you had been too quick to judge, too quick to believe everyone else’s preconceived notions regarding your own boyfriend, but what were you supposed to do when he didn’t even defend himself? 

“You know… even after all this time, I still don’t know why I hated you. I really don’t know if it was because I thought you cheated or because you never went after me when I left.” 

Mark’s silent, and the weight of the situation continues to hit the two of you like a bus. Part of you feels betrayed by him. More betrayal then when you first heard the rumors. The two of you could have been together this whole time, saved each other from years of pain, sorrow and longing, but instead it’s almost as though he forced it upon you both.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Jesus fuck Mark we’re not Marianne and Connell from Normal People, we can talk to each other.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Who?” 

“I’ve been watching a lot of TV since we broke up.” 

There’s another silence between the two of you and in the small space it feels deafening and suffocating. You want nothing more than to go back to your seat and forget this even happened. Weirdly enough, the sex part you were fine with. It was this conversation that left you feeling like you couldn’t get a proper breath of air into your lungs, almost as if you were drowning. 

You take a piece of toilet paper from the roll beside you and use it to attempt to clean up the mess that had already begun drying on your legs. Mark watches you mindlessly, unsure of what to say himself. He knows he made a mistake from not telling you and effectively keeping the two of you apart, but every time he would reach for the phone to dial your number he would be reminded of the pain he felt and all the things you had called him that day. 

Everyone was right! Why didn’t I just fucking listen to them? Does a three year relationship mean nothing to you? I thought you changed… were different… but now I just feel like I wasted my time.

“I-I really don’t know what to say if I’m honest,” you finally stuttered out, grabbing your discarded leggings and pulling them on, “did you want me to leave you?”

Mark shakes his head vigorously, completely taken aback at you even thinking that, “no... Not at all... I just- it was complicated.”

“Right and you don’t do complicated. Got it.” You stand up and move to unlock the door, but Mark moves in front of you as he did earlier. 

“Y/n... Can we just talk about this? When we land can we just go to a cafe and talk about everything? I still- I mean... even after all this time I-” He begins, but you’re too scared to hear him finish the sentence.

“Mark we’ve had a lot of time to talk. Just please let me go back to my seat.” 

This time he makes no effort to stop you from leaving and you quickly slip out of the bathroom, fearful someone might see you. Luckily, everyone is still fast asleep and you walk back down the aisle to your seat wanting to forget about what Mark had said.  

You couldn’t deal with the what ifs, you couldn’t get lost in a fantasy of imagining that maybe you and Mark could be married already if he would have just said something. You couldn’t be that cruel to yourself.

After a few moments, you notice the bathroom occupied sign go away, signaling Mark’s arrival back to his seat. 

He knows he could just sit down and go back to sleep, falling back in to the way things were. But he had already not tried to go after you once before and he had been regretting it ever since. He had to say fuck that to all of the fears he had of being judged and put trust back into someone again. He wanted you.

Your eyes which had drifted closed soon shot open as you felt a movement at the side of your chair, turning to see Mark crouched down next you

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I already let go of you once, I’m not doing it again. If I have to spend the next,” he brings his watch up to look at the time, “six hours convincing you, then so be it. I’m not letting walk away from me this time.” At his final word he moves his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear and goes to sit down. His eyes piercing into the back of your seat.

You felt Mark’s words, you felt them deeply in every part of you and it made you think that the Mark you love was still in there. 

Love.

You still loved him.

The beating of your heart made it difficult to fall asleep, but when you finally did you had a decision made and a smile on your face. 

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #mark tuan #mark tuan fanfic #got7 fanfiction

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

'Falling Through the Cracks' Chapter 2: Two Worlds Collide

Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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As she slept in his bed, Sherlock remained in the sitting room, turning over her words in his head. ‘You’ll be lost like the others,’ she had said. It sounded so eerily similar to what his landlady warned him of. ‘You’ll soon be lost to us all.’ He shook his head, berating himself for actually considering there was some credibility to the old woman’s ‘visions.’ But what had Molly meant, calling this place ‘London Above?’

‘I’ve not seen London like this.’

Mrs. Hudson’s words continued to play on repeat in his head. It was only a coincidence, he decided. Lost in his mind palace, he found his brother cocking a brow up at him. “And what do we say about coincidences, brother mine?”

“The universe is rarely so lazy,” Sherlock answered automatically; in his head or aloud, he didn’t know. All he knew is that it was already too late. He was determined to take Molly’s case regardless of her protests. It seemed too important to pass up. Or perhaps, he was simply drawn to her—a thought he dared not think too much about. The real danger, he realised, wasn’t the unknown journey that lie ahead, but the mysterious woman sleeping in his bed.

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Morning had arrived; the sunlight streaming through the window in the bedroom woke her. She frowned, keeping her eyes shut tighter. Molly knew she’d have to get a move on, hoping Sherlock wouldn’t mind if she kept his shirt. Slipping out of bed, she decided to search for a pair of trousers that might be able to fit her if adjusted right. There was a pair of grey sweatpants with drawstrings. It was the best she could find and she’d make it work.

The door creaked open and she whirled around, ready to fight, but relaxed when she realised it was Sherlock. He held in his hands a pair of jeans and a jumper with a pair of new flats on top. “I took the liberty to purchase these for you, but I see you’ve found an alternate choice.”

She felt her face flush and she laughed nervously. “Thank you,” she smiled, approaching him to retrieve the clothes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to at least keep this shirt.”

“It’s yours,” he replied rather quickly. “So, I suppose we should—“

“We? No. Sorry. You’ve done so much for me already. I couldn’t possibly keep you involved. Trust me, you don’t want to be,” she assured him. “You already seem to be too attached.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Attached? I’m not attached. I don’t attach myself to anyone.”

Molly raised a brow at him, challenging him. “Believe what you want, but I know attachment when I see it. Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. You’re better off without it.”

His eyes widened, taken aback by her words. No, not her words, but his brother’s words. “Where did you hear that? Who told you that?”

“Just somebody I’m acquainted with back home,” she told him, worried about where this was going.

Sherlock shook his head, not quite believing this. “What’s his name?”

She shrugged, her eyes searching his for answers in a panic. “I dunno his name. He just goes by The Ice Man. That’s all I know. I plan to contact him for help through the rest of this mess.”

“I’m coming with you,” he insisted, putting his foot down on the matter. He didn’t give a damn if he disappeared out of existence. It’s what happened to his brother, and no one was going to stop him from finding out the truth.

Molly opened her mouth to protest, but she stopped herself. “You’ve lost someone. Who is it then?”

“My brother,” he answered. “Those words you spoke—he’d tell me that all the time when I was dangerously close to forming any sort of close relation with someone. It was a warning not to get involved. He disappeared nearly two years ago.”

She roughly dragged a hand through her hair. “You shouldn’t be involved in this. I’m sorry he disappeared, but the same will happen to you if I don’t leave right now. I know I can’t stop you from coming along, so here’s your warning: if you decide to come with me, there is no going back. You will not be able to resume your life here. People will start to forget you, and soon, no one here will notice you ever again. Is that clear?”

He set his jaw firmly. “Crystal,” he replied. “Let me pack a few things.”

Tears formed in her eyes, the sadness she felt for his life clear on her face. He had lost his brother, and she understood his need to find him. What she didn’t understand was how he was still able to remember him after all this time. It was impossible. Sherlock Holmes was an enigma and he fed her too curious mind.

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A firm knock on the door startled Mrs. Hudson. She opened it a crack to find two sketchy men standing before her. “May I help you?”

“Yes,” Moriarty smiled in an attempt to appear trustworthy. “We’re looking for this woman.” He held up a photograph, one he had stolen from her family’s home just before he burnt it to the ground. “She’s in danger and we’re trying to bring her home safe.”

Martha Hudson definitely had seen her. The woman was with Sherlock just last night, and this morning, she wagered, but the two had left in quite a hurry. Her face remained blank. “I’m afraid I’ve never seen her before. I could keep an eye out for you.”

Moriarty eyed her suspiciously. “That won’t be necessary.” He turned to his associate. “Well, Seb, we’ve got more ground to cover, it seems. We’ll take our leave now. Thank you.”

When they reached the other side of the street, Seb stopped in his tracks. “I could smell her, James. She was there.”

“I know,” he snarled. “Try to see if you can’t pick up on her scent. Remember, if we fail, we’ll both be dead.”

Seb sighed. “Are you sure we can’t just kill her?”

“No!” Moriarty shouted. “We must bring her back alive. The job must be done properly. Only then will we be free to do as we please.”

Both of their faces blanched at the thought of the carnage from a couple of years back. Seb nodded in understanding, knowing that James was right. This had to be dealt with in a delicate matter, or they’d never see the light of day again.

.

.

“It’s…a wall,” Sherlock needlessly pointed out. He was beginning to wonder if Molly was clinically insane.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, very good, detective. Take my hand.” Satisfied when he complied, she placed her free hand against the bricks, picturing the streets of her home in her mind.

His brows furrowed, unsure of what he had gotten himself into. Soon enough, the wall gave way and it felt as if he was trying to run underwater, needing to force himself through. And then they were falling—at least, that’s what it felt like. When he opened his eyes, they were in the middle of a mostly deserted cobblestone street. It was evening, the air cool. But yet, it had been noon just a moment ago. “Where…are we?”

She slipped her hand from his. “Welcome to London Below,” Molly told him, trepidation lacing her tone.

A carriage swiftly passed by, the clopping of the horses’ hooves echoing through the street. A light fog settled over the city, reminding Sherlock of his London in Victorian times. “Impossible,” he marveled, gripping the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. “It’s as if we’ve traveled through time.” It was all so illogical to him, but the proof was right in front of his eyes. He hadn’t been on the sweeties for a long time, so he knew it wasn’t a hallucination. “We haven’t, right?”

Molly laughed softly. “No time travel,” she assured him. “It’s just how London Below has always been. I’m from here, but people from London Above will sometimes appear, having fallen through the cracks of their world. Those who do can never go back. ”

He nodded slowly, processing this information. Everything he thought he knew was a lie. There was so much more to discover in the world. It wasn’t so boring and mundane after all. This case went far beyond a ten in his mind. Nothing would ever top it. “And what are we to do now?”

She sighed. “Well, I need to get in contact with The Ice Man. If he repeated the words of your brother, then maybe he knows where he is. Plus, he can help me get to the bottom of why I’m being sought after by two mad men. But first, we need to head to the Temple and Arch—it’s a safe haven for those who want to get away either for pleasure or safety. I have a friend who runs the place, Meena. She’s glamoured it to appear as an old run down shack, but if you’re in dire need, it’ll appear to you.” Molly reached out and laced her fingers through his. “Come along, then.”

.

.

It was practically rubble. Sherlock gazed upon the supposed ‘safe haven.’ “Are you sure it’s still standing?”

“I see it perfectly fine, but then again, I’m in more dire need than you,” she replied. “Trust me, it’s the safest place for us right now.” She led him inside, glancing over to see his reaction as the inn appeared to him. His eyes went wide, almost childlike with wonder.

“Dor?” The woman behind the counter spoke in surprise, standing from her seat. “Oh, my dear friend, what could bring you here?”

Dor? Sherlock frowned. Mrs. Hudson had warned him against doors—to be careful of them. Never did he imagine the warning would apply to a person.

Willing herself not to cry, Molly explained all she knew, including information she had not yet given Sherlock. “Oh, Meena, it’s been horrible. As you know, I was away doing an apprenticeship with Doctor Stamford, and when I returned, my home was in tatters, my parents dead. And now I’m being targeted by who I can only assume are assassins—most likely the very ones who murdered my family.”

“I’m so sorry, Dor. And…who is this fine man you’ve brought with you?” Meena asked, eyeing Sherlock lustfully.

“Meena, this is Sherlock. He’s a detective from London Above, and he has been quite helpful. And before you say anything, I warned him, but he insisted on coming along,” she informed her friend.

Sherlock shrugged. “You clearly need all the assistance you can get. Also, I’m searching for my brother. He disappeared a couple years ago. I’m beginning to think this is where he ended up.”

Meena held out a key. “I’ve only got the one room.”

“We’ll take what we can get,” Molly replied, accepting it. “Thank you.”

.

.

As he and Molly went in search of the room, he couldn’t help but ask what had been bothering him. Mrs. Hudson’s words once again arose in his mind, warning him to be cautious of doors. ‘It will be the beginning of the beginning; the new merging with the old.’ Whatever could she have meant? “Why did Meena call you ‘Door?’”

Molly grimaced. “It’s short for Doreen, my middle name. She knows how much I hate it, but I just grin and bear it. It is a bit funny though; I can open doors of all kinds, and even create doors where there aren’t any. It’s a family ability, but I suppose I’m the last one now.”

They had reached the room, but before she could slip the key in, Sherlock reached out, his fingers trailing softly down her cheek, wiping away a tear that she had fought valiantly against. “I lost my parents too, many years ago. I am sorry you’re going through all of this. I know it isn’t easy.”

She gazed up into his sparkling eyes, feeling as if she could drown in his sea-coloured irises. “Thank you.” It came out as a whisper. “I’m sorry you’ve been through it, yourself. And now your brother. I’ll help you find him.”

Molly unlocked the door, pushing it open. An oil lamp on the nightstand emitted a warm glow. An understanding had come to pass between them, two lost souls left to run and hide from the dangers in their orbit. Their mission was probably a lost cause, but they had to try. At least they had each other…and the one bed they would end up having to share. Molly gritted her teeth. This was going to be a long night.

#sherlolly #falling through the cracks #my fanfiction