#it took me so long to post this even after getting clarification about the maturity warning and stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

Text

Snap Part 1

Read on Ao3 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Inspired in part by the lovely @random-snippets‘s post here

Warnings: roman angst and everything that goes with it. self-esteem issues, self-hatred, insecurity. sympathetic everyone

Pairings: roceit, platonic DLAMPR

Word Count: 5540

Most things in life are flexible to some degree. You can push and pull and bend them in certain ways and, to some extent, they will comply with you. There are some things that you can bend and bend and bend. Creativity is one of these things. Creativity, imagination, dreams...they can be shaped and changed into whatever you want.

Bend...and bend...and bend...until they snap.

Janus enjoys teasing.

He finds that it often reveals true intentions much better than simply taking someone at their word. Plus, the range of reactions he gets is endlessly amusing.

Patton will stutter and stammer adorably, or he’ll put on his Dad Voice™ and attempt to scold. Logan, depending on what sort of mood he’s in, will sass him back or give him a death glare. Virgil definitely isn’t the type to snipe back, keeping up with Janus blow for blow. Remus is…Remus.

But Roman…Roman is different.

Roman used to be the most fun to tease, puffing himself up in a fit of righteous princely indignation to defend himself, going red in the face only to be set off again moments later. Janus could spend hours just tilting his head this way and that as Roman muttered himself in and out of circles and paradoxes and contradictions. It used to be quite an effective way to shut the prince up, letting him stew in his own thoughts.

It’s still an effective way to silence Roman, but it’s changed.

It started after the wedding.

Roman had shut himself away in his room, much to the chagrin of the others. They expected a temper tantrum, they expected sulking. Logan and Patton were constantly on standby for the minute Thomas would start being affected by it.

They didn’t expect Roman to emerge a few days later and quietly ask to talk to each of them.

He apologized.

A proper apology; for mocking his name, for calling him evil, for dismissing him out of hand. Janus can only guess by the looks of pleasant confusion mirrored on the other Sides’s faces that they received similar apologies.

Janus hadn’t been surprised when Roman extended a nervous offer of having him and Remus come around to their side of the Mindscape more often, saying that they had…valuable insights to offer. He hadn’t been surprised to see Roman extend the olive branch to Remus, only for Remus to promptly snatch it up and hug his brother so tightly Janus winced in sympathy for Roman’s ribs.

Patton, as was to be expected, was overjoyed, throwing his arms around the princely side in what could only be described as euphoria. Logan had been surprised, saying he hadn’t expected Roman’s surprising amount of maturity regarding the issue, including the way Roman had promised to listen to him more often. Virgil had shrugged, saying it was about time Roman started doing that anyway.

He hadn’t thought anything of it, not really. And it had been pleasant, being listened to. Not being treated like a villain.

He should’ve known it wasn’t going to be only a few days for Roman to completely change his black-and-white view of the world.

Roman listened more, that was true, but he didn’t talk as much either. He stood quietly, occasionally asking softly for clarification.

“…L-Logan?”

Logan pauses mid-sentence, glancing over at Roman. Roman sits there, twisting his fingers together.

“Yes?”

“Can you…slow down a little bit?”

Logan blinks. He’d been talking about recent discoveries made in the field of quantum physics, just getting to the part about how SUSY particles could reconcile the different interpretations of the expansions of the universe. Roman had been the only one who volunteered to listen, and he half-expected Roman to dismiss the topic entirely or say he had some important thing to go to. He had not been expecting this.

Roman did not seem to interpret his silence in this way.

“It’s just,” he stammers frantically, “it’s not that I’m not interested, I am, I can assure you, I’m just…I’m having trouble keeping up with you.”

He balls his hands up tightly in his lap, staring at Logan with a frantic sense of urgency.

“It’s okay if you can’t or you don’t want to, y-you’re not boring me, I promise, and I don’t want you to stop, but can you please try and talk a little slower? I don’t…I don’t want to miss anything,” he trails off.

“It’s…it’s quite alright, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I’m happy to slow down.”

Roman’s face breaks into a relieved smile. “Okay, thank you, I don’t know what’s going on with me today.” He taps the side of his head with a self-deprecating smile. “Not all here, it seems. Sorry, Specs.”

“You needn’t apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “I would be more than happy to slow down. Are you quite sure I’m not boring you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Logan smiles. “…good.”

“C-can I say what I’ve gotten so far,” Roman asks hesitantly, “and then you can correct me where I’m wrong and then jump back in when we get there?”

“Of course.”

Roman had Remus share almost as many ideas as he did, but he didn’t share his own as much either.

“Roman? Do you have anything to add?”

Roman shakes his head, a small smile on his lips as he watches Remus bounce excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“I believe we have a solid idea,” he says, gently elbowing Remus, “and there is nothing I can do to improve it.”

“You know, Ro-Bro,” Remus says, shoving Roman back, “you’ve gotten so much less boring.”

Roman chuckles lightly, picking himself up off the wall. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Oh, I am!” Remus claps his hands. “But are you sure we can’t build in the part about—“

“We are not unearthing a roadkill corpse, Remus.”

Roman didn’t puff up when he was teased anymore, but he didn’t defend himself in any other way as much either.

“Could you be more extra,” Virgil sighs, nudging Roman, “really, Princey?”

Roman pauses, before slowly lowering his hands. “I am, aren’t I?”

Virgil’s eyes widen. “Guys! Guys, I got Roman to admit that he’s extra!”

“You did what?” Remus vaults over the couch. “You did it!”

“That is in fact a marvelous breakthrough,” Logan says, drinking his coffee, “especially for Roman.”

“Good to see you’re finally developing some self-awareness, kiddo,” Patton says with a wink, patting Roman on the shoulder.

Janus smirks, shifting in his chair. “Yes, because Roman’s observational skills have always been at the forefront.”

“Alright, alright,” Roman says finally, waving his hand, “I’m extra, I get it.”

It took far too long for them to realize that just because Roman’s behavior had changed, it didn’t mean he wasn’t still struggling with the ramifications of it. It took them far too long to realize that Roman still clung to the ideas of heroes and villains, the roles had just shifted. It took them far too long to realize that the ego, still hiding its black and blue skin, was still living in fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It took Janus far too long to realize he wasn’t doing his job.

“Oh, come now, I’m only teasing.”

“And that’s supposed to make everything better, is it?”

Janus pauses, the sharpness in Roman’s voice killing the follow-up in his throat. His eyes don’t widen at how Roman looks at him. For the first time in a long time, Roman’s gaze is filled with fire as he stares at Janus. It gives him pause for a moment. Just a moment. Then his smirk is back.

Good. You were starting to get boring.

“You realize that saying you’re teasing doesn’t make it hurt any less, right?”

“Oh, sweetie, there’s really no need to get so worked up—“

“Don’t pretend that your intention has not been to make me uncomfortable.”

“Then why’re you letting it get to you so?”

“…so if Remus tries to knock me out with his morningstar, I shouldn’t get hurt because it’s his intention to hurt me?”

Janus blinks. This is absolutely the direction he thought Roman was going to go. “That’s not quite the same thing.”

“So I shouldn’t prioritize emotional and mental pain the same way as physical pain?”

“…I didn’t say that—“

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it frustrating to have your words taken out of context and applied in ways you obviously didn’t mean? Wow, I wonder what that feels like.”

Janus’s surprise is hidden quickly as Roman takes a deep breath in. He expects Roman to bite back, to push, to hurl acid-laced insults at him. Given how Roman has been taking most of…this lying down as of late, he expects it, even if he would be a little...disappointed. In some way, he doesn’t deserve it.

That’s exactly what happens.

“…I understand that you care and you help in your own way. And I’m grateful for it, really, I am. You…you make people look at themselves—really look and you make me think and it’s great but it’s exhausting.”

Roman buries his face in his hands, pressing his fingertips hard to his eyes. It doesn’t hurt to see him so…tired.

“I can’t—I can’t do this all the time. I can’t do this most of the time. You know that. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if that were the point.”

“…I do have a point.”

“You always have a point. That’s the problem. You are nothing but points, there’s nothing to you but—“

Roman stops, taking a deep breath and pressing his forehead with a fist.

“No, sorry, that’s…that’s not true. The version of you that you choose to present to me and to the others most of the time is nothing but points. There is no softness. No give. Not an ounce. It’s always a fight. I have to…double and triple check every single thing that comes out of your mouth, and I’m not…I…”

Another deep breath. Something softens.

“I respect you. I admire you. I like you. But I don’t know what you want from me.”

Janus isn’t shocked.

Not just at the fact that Roman is expressing all of this out loud, not just at what Roman is saying, but how the bitter taste slowly filling his mouth isn’t coming from any of it.

Roman isn’t lying. Not about this.

What happened in those days when you shut yourself away?

It takes him a moment to realize Roman is waiting for an answer.

“I don’t want you hurt.”

Roman huffs. No malice behind it, just exhaustion. “You enjoy putting me in situations that actively make me uncomfortable and you have enjoyed hurting me in the past. Try again.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Roman sighs.

“Look, I don’t think I’m in the right space for this conversation and the last thing I want to do is mess this up any more than I already have, can we…can we do this later?”

He nods slowly, even though it takes him back to hear Roman ask for something. It doesn’t sting a little to know he isn’t the one that’s made it easier for him to do so.

“Thank you, I—you...you know I care about you, right?”

Not many things can take him by surprise, not many things can make him more surprised than this conversation already has, but this…this earnest confession, this does. He nods.

“Good.”

They don’t speak for days. They don’t even see each other for days. Then Roman has an episode.

The others are away, helping Thomas. Roman is alone. He rides the attack to its end but he’s still trying to recover. This one was bad. He needs to get up, he needs to eat, he needs to drink, he needs to but he knows if he stresses out too much about this, he’s just going to send himself into another attack. He’s trying to breathe but it’s hard. It’s so hard.

Janus wasn’t even looking for him. And yet there he is, sprawled on the floor, hunched over, hands trembling as he struggles to breathe. For a moment he worries at how much he can feel that Roman’s afraid. Afraid of Janus. Janus…he hasn’t exactly shown him his…full capabilities.

And, in his defense, really, Roman is so clever, so sweet, so open that he can’t help but play with him, test him, poke at his comfort zone just enough to see him squirm. And Roman is lovely, truly, he is. And yes, part of him was thrilled when Roman finally snapped at him, but he’s right. Janus is…he has not been good to him.

Time to change that.

He approaches slowly, crouching, and offering a hand. The suspicious look that he gets doesn’t hurt his chest. He does blame him. But Roman trusts, he trusts too easily sometimes and this wouldn’t be the first time Janus has ever taken advantage of it. He tries to convey that he won’t break it when Roman takes his hand. He tries not to think about how much of this is Roman going along with it if only to prevent himself from being hurt.

He leads Roman to one of the common spaces on the Dark Sides’ hallway. It’s almost never used anymore, not since the barrier between Light and Dark started breaking down. He looks at Roman to see such an unsure expression that he can’t help the soft noise when he guides him to sit on the couch.

Janus keeps Roman in the corner of his vision as he carefully shrugs off his cloak. He considers draping it over Roman’s shoulders but decides that might be a bit too much. Too much for right now, even as his mouth starts to taste bitter.

What does he want? Roman can’t stop thinking it. He’s three seconds away from another attack, what’s happening, what’s going on, I don’t know what to do—

A gentle hand cups his chin and he distantly thanks whatever higher power there may be that Janus’s gloves aren’t a bad texture. But then he has to make eye contact and oh it’s the worst. He doesn’t know what’s keeping this fragile peace. He knows Janus will see through any mask he tries to put on right now.

But not wearing a mask…he’s not sure he remembers how to do that.

He tries.

I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, can’t you see? Can’t you see that if you just tell me, I’ll be good? Whatever you want, I can do it, I promise, I’ll be good, I can be good, but I can’t do it if I don’t know what you want and if you tell me I’ll do it, just tell me what you want me to do, I can’t figure it out, I want to be good, but I don’t—I can’t—what do you want?

Janus sees. He sees all of it and it doesn’t break his heart.

He lets Roman go, the ache getting worse when he immediately shuts his eyes. He crouches, waiting.

When Roman opens his eyes again, he tries to offer. What do you want? Let me help, if you want?

Too much, perhaps. So he tries smaller.

Roman’s unsure when he offers his hand again. He…Janus doesn’t like being touched. But would he really be offering if he wasn’t okay with it?

Janus smiles when Roman reaches a trembling hand out. Slowly, carefully, he takes it in two of his, playing with it gently. Running his fingers over the back, tracing the knuckles. Roman’s hand is so much more...worn than the others. There are calluses, scars, so many stories that Janus can’t help exploring, smiling a little when the light touch makes Roman twitch. Even here, Roman’s scared of doing something wrong. His fingers tremble, try and move to match the shapes he makes.

Keeping Roman’s hand in his, Janus stands, tugging in a gentle ask for Roman to come with him. Roman stands up too fast and a second pair of arms shoots out to steady him. He looks so small…smaller still when Janus sits them down on another couch, between his legs.

Stay with me, Roman.

Playing with his hand again gets his attention, the second pair of arms holding Roman close. He waits. Waits to gently tug that hand a little closer. Roman shuffles. His phone tumbles out of his pocket and Janus catches it with his third pair of arms, setting it carefully on the table.

He lays back, all six arms accounted for. Waits.

Is something you want?

Roman looks so apprehensive, reaching out with his other hand. He folds Roman in gently, letting him move at his own pace, easing his weight down on top of Janus like they’re afraid of hurting him. As soon as he’s all the way down, still propping himself up to keep the weight off of Janus, Janus embraces Roman tightly, smiling a little at the way he instantly goes limp, exhaling sharply. Part of him takes a little selfish pleasure at having Roman in his arms; he’s so warm, he’s just the right weight, he fits so perfectly. But he’s still so tense, poor thing…

Just as he did with his hand, he explores gently. He lightly traces up and down Roman’s sides, wiggles his fingers as he runs them along Roman’s spine. Smirks a little when he feels Roman’s muscles tense and shift as he squirms under the gentle attention. Sweet little thing is ticklish too, hmm?

Like Roman, he doesn’t want to risk breaking this moment with too much noise, but he has to really fight the urge to coo and fuss when he starts scratching his hands through Roman’s hair. Roman whines for him, completely involuntarily, and it’s so small and tired and hopeful and adorable that he can’t help seeing if he can make him do it again. He can.

They have no idea how long they lie there but an alarm on Roman’s phone breaks the silence. Janus barely glances at the label—‘stop and get back to work’—as he shuts it off. He laments its intrusive presence as Roman startles horribly, scrambling up. And he can’t help himself, he catches him.

Roman should get back. He should do so many things but Janus is being so kind and he’s not too warm and Roman has no idea how he’ll react and what if they never get this chance again and he’s holding him so gently and the way he’s looking at him…

Is this something you want?

Janus lets out a soft oof when Roman throws himself at him, wrapping his arms around him so tightly he’s sure it hurts. But it’s the thing he wanted and the thing Roman wants and it’s perfect.

He clings to Roman just as tightly until his own arms ache from it. Still, he holds on, until Roman slumps, burying his warm face into his scales without hesitation. Roman’s breathing stutters, he’s still so scared...so Janus softens, gentles his grip, goes back to the soothing touches from before. Tries to lull Roman back into that half-doze they were in before. It takes a long time, much longer than he’d like. Roman keeps jerking himself awake, his fists clenching and unclenching, unsure where to put his head, where to put his arms.

He breaks finally when his fingers hit a sensitive spot on Roman’s back and Roman gasps, Janus instinctively holding Roman closer and smoothing the hair away from his ear.

“Shh…shh…” One pair of his arms come up to hold Roman’s hands. “Shh… shh…”

I want you to calm down, Roman, that’s all I want right now. Shh…

It takes several minutes of careful shushing to get Roman to relax, several more before his breathing evens out and he dozes, right there in his arms.

They still need to talk. Roman’s carrying so much grief with him that, now that he’s looking, he can see the strain. Roman is so tired, he can feel it. And he desperately wants to know what happened to turn Roman into this frightened creature, constantly bracing for a blow, so confused in the face of any affection. But for now…

He’s self-preservation, protection when protection is needed most. Of course he can be caring.

He leaves Roman in Patton’s care, giving them the space they need to make sure he doesn’t push. Not now, perhaps not ever. He receives a gentle thank-you when they happen to pass in the corridor. And it’s…good. There’s a sweet aftertaste in his mouth when he talks for a few days.

A few days later, his mouth tastes horribly bitter again and he knows it’s time. He appears to see Roman sitting ramrod straight, staring at the wall.

“…well, you certainly look as calm as can be.”

“Oh. Hi, Janus.”

“Hello. What seems to be troubling you?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry. I’m alright.”

The lie tastes sour. “May I join you?”

Roman nods.

“Thank you.”

“Did you need something?”

“Are you…in a proper enough headspace to have that conversation?”

“…yes. Yeah, I think so.”

He can’t quite taste another lie. This is probably what Virgil means when he says it’s important to trust people about their own boundaries.

“I have a proposition for you. I would like you to hear me out before commenting.”

“Of course.”

“…you lie quite often.” Roman nods. “You are not of the opinion that lying is inherently wrong.”

Roman shakes his head nervously.

“You use lying as a defense mechanism to protect yourself, don’t you?”

A new wave of bitterness.

“…do not be afraid,” he says quietly, “it’s quite common.”

Roman’s brow furrows a little.

“Your first response to any question that causes a heightened emotional response is usually a lie,” he explains, “because your instinct to protect yourself kicks in and forces you to say what you think the asker wants to hear.”

Roman’s mouth tightens.

“It also coincides with the need to make yourself as small as possible. If you…do not require many things, or if you do not actively contribute to things that require any extra effort, odds are you will not be hurt.” Janus tilts his head. “I believe Virgil calls it ‘being low maintenance.’”

Roman huffs a laugh and looks away.

“Does that sound about right?”

“…mhm.”

Janus fiddles with the cuffs of his jacket almost absentmindedly. Roman has developed a…particular style of dishonesty that intrigues him.

Roman is very open about vulnerable topics; speaking freely and without hesitation about how he feels about his looks, his mannerisms, his sexuality, pretty much every aspect of themselves that the Sides can think to ask about. But that’s not the same as actually being vulnerable. It’s hiding behind too much honesty, taking advantage of the fact that others don’t tend to talk about those types of topics in that much detail to let them mistake it for actual vulnerability. But it’s not. It’s just a different type of hiding.

It’s not a lie. Not even a lie of omission. Which means it’s harder for Janus to detect. Even harder for the others. So it’s easier for them to believe Roman is more honest than they are. Which let him get away with lying, let him get away with sacrificing his own needs, let him get away with hurting himself.

The pitch is the easiest part, Janus decides. Definitely.

“Virgil and I have an arrangement of sorts,” he opens with finally. “Logan helped us figure it out. If…one of us receives an answer they believe is untruthful, a second chance is offered.”

“A…what?”

“If I ask Virgil a question, or if Virgil asks me a question, and we don’t believe the answer we receive to be true, we say: ‘second chance.’ Then we have another chance to answer. There are never any consequences for lying, or choosing to take the second chance.”

“…so…”

“So if I were to ask you what’s troubling you—“

“It’s fine,” Roman says quickly, “really, it is.”

Janus gives him a small, sad smile. No, no it isn’t, but this will serve as a good point.

“Second chance?”

Roman’s mask slips. It’s a good mask. Right up there with Patton, and Logan, if he’s being evaluative. Perhaps even up there with his own. But it’s cracking.

“You know it’s unwise to try and lie to me, dear,” he pushes.

Ah. Too much. Fear swells up behind Roman’s eyes and he stammers.

“…I…”

“If you do not wish to tell me,” he soothes, “I will not force you too.”

“Then I would rather not say,” Roman says carefully, each word laid down for Janus’s inspection.

“And there are no consequences.”

The wave of pure relief that washes over Roman is enough to make Janus smile properly. There’s a horrible moment where he looks like he doesn’t believe it, he’s waiting for the punchline, but then it doesn’t come and Roman just slumps, a massive weight rolling off his shoulders. Janus can’t help but watch the corner of his mouth tick up higher and higher as he realizes it’s okay.

“Well, judging by that expression,” he says, “this certainly will be awful for you.”

Another thing about Roman is that for some reason, probably tied to his connection to the Imagination, is that he has this…field around him. Janus is sure Logan’s not interested in it at all and they haven’t spend hours upon hours talking about it. But he can feel the wave of care and love and relief that hits him, making his heart ache pleasantly in his chest.

It’s gone far too quickly and Janus isn’t saddened by it, his brow furrowing when Roman fidgets with his hands, obviously trying to work up the nerve to ask something.

“…why…when you said this was common,” he says eventually, “what did you mean?”

Ah. This won’t be difficult at all.

“The…sophistication of your coping mechanism indicates that it has been developed over a long period of time,” he starts.

“…okay?”

“Not uncommon in victims of abuse.”

“What…what are you talking about,” Roman stammers, obviously trying to laugh it off, “I—I haven’t been abused.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s…oh, Roman…

“We have ridiculed you for expressing vulnerability,” Janus murmurs, “we have ignored you when you express deep feelings. Sometimes, when you attempt to speak about them, we tell you that your feelings are not worthy of your reaction, or we are indifferent.”

Janus shifts, letting his regret bleed into his voice as he continues.

“We have manipulated you to get what we want. We have used shame to make you feel bad.” Janus clenches his fists in his lap. “We have led you to believe things are your fault when they aren’t. We have pushed you to question your sanity.”

There’s an awful silence.

“We’ve been gaslighting you, Roman,” Janus murmurs, “and worse. Tell me, what does that sound like to you?”

Any semblance of relief from earlier vanishes, replaced by denial, worry, panic, and so much anxiety for a moment Janus worries Virgil’s going to be summoned.

Then his mouth fills with an acrid taste, coating his tongue so much it almost chokes him.

“…I’m sure you know that I’m summoned by continuous lying.” Why I appeared in the first place.

Poor Roman barely hears him enough to nod.

“I know what the lies are when I hear them.”

Another nod.

“Which means,” he murmurs, reaching out and gently touching Roman’s temple with two fingers, “…I can hear these.”

Roman freezes.

“There. That.” Janus’s eyes widen. “Oh, oh no, sweetie, I’m not here to be cruel to you.”

Roman doesn’t hear him.

“Breathe, honey, come on…in for four, hold for seven, out for eight.”

Roman’s not breathing at all. Janus leans forward to try and help when Roman’s mouth opens, his voice sharp and determined.

“When people lie,” he says, “does it hurt you?”

“What?”

“Does it hurt you?”

He knows what Roman’s asking and he adores it, of course he does. He adores that Roman’s so worried about hurting him, not himself, Janus, that he’s willing to punish himself by forcing away a defense mechanism that he’s had for years because it might be hurting Janus. He loves it.

“…no. Not a direct correlation,” he says, “no. More often than not, I can tell or sense what the truth would be and…that is not often pleasant. But no, Roman, you are not physically injuring me when you lie.”

“And what about when you’re telling the truth?”

“…sweetie, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself far more that you’re going to hurt me.”

Roman’s face pinches as he looks away, so determined that it looks completely painless. It doesn’t hurt.

“Would you like a hug?”

“N-no, no, I’m fine.” Roman’s hands don’t shake. He doesn’t hunch around himself protectively.

“Second chance?”

“…please?”

“Come here.”

He’s warm, but not warm enough. His aura is relieved, but not relieved enough. He’s still, but not still enough.

The bitter taste in Janus’ mouth isn’t horrendously painful.

“No, sweetie, you’re not being inconvenient.”

You have hidden this so well, so well we never realized how much this hurts you.

“I’m not angry with you for trying to protect yourself.”

I will be the first to admit that I have…not acquitted myself well from the things I have done to you, please let me try now.

“You’re not hurting me.”

Don’t deny yourself comfort, especially when you need it so badly.

“And no, sweetie, I don’t hate being touched as much you think I do.” Janus does find it easy to cry, he does get overwhelmed easily. And yet the lies he can hear right now threaten to make tears spill over. “…must you be so cruel to yourself?”

“…sorry?”

Ah, yes, apologies. That’s a conversation for another time. Janus sighs, running a hand through Roman’s hair. “At any rate, it’s not like you’re nice and warm and much better suited than the others.”

Finally, the bitterness recedes, just a little. Janus swallows, washing away the last vestiges on his tongue, cuddling Roman closer. He looks down, seeing his mouth open and close. Laying a finger gently against his lips, he shushes Roman as he tries to speak.

“Hush, you don’t have to say anything, sweetie. I understand.”

“Okay,” Roman huffs, “I will say the whole…mind-reading thing is not ideal.”

Fair enough. “I am only paying attention right now because you seem to be having some difficulty speaking,” he murmurs, chucking him gently under his chin, “I will not be all the time.”

“Okay.”

“Or you could simply…not lie to yourself.”

“Unrealistic.”

It makes him laugh a little. “Something to work on, no?”

Roman nods, gently head-butting Janus’ hand. He smiles, cupping Roman’s chin, idly tapping his fingers. The smile grows when Roman closes his eyes, tipping his head back so Janus can scritch lightly.

“Perhaps it will help you with these,” Janus murmurs, lightly stroking his fingers over the shadowy bruises just below Roman’s collar, “hmm?”

“…Thomas, huh?”

Janus raises an eyebrow when Thomas summons him. “Well, this is entirely expected.”

“I need your help.”

“Then this can’t be serious at all.”

“It’s about Roman.”

Janus pinches off the rest of his sarcasm. “Tell me.”

“I, uh, I made a…discovery,” Thomas says, “about…things.”

“How remarkably descriptive.”

“You know the phrase ‘bruised ego?’”

Janus stiffens at Thomas’s words. “…I am familiar.”

“…turns out it’s a lot more literal than I thought.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

It’s Janus’s job to protect the ego.

What…what has he done?

“He doesn’t care for you at all, sweetie.”

Roman opens his eyes, peering up at him with poorly disguised hope.

“Neither, for that matter,” he continues, running a thumb over Roman’s jaw, “do the others. Virgil, for one, despises you for being able to make him feel so wonderfully safe.

“Patton thinks the absolute worst of you—“ he pats Roman’s cheek— “and the care that you give so freely to others.

“Remus, well, he of course doesn’t value you at all,” he drawls as he tucks a loose piece of hair behind Roman’s ear, “let alone your willingness to touch and interact with him as he’s so used to that.

“And Logan would definitely prefer it if you were to never be so clever and considerate ever again,” he finishes, stroking his thumb across his forehead.

“I don’t think,” Roman murmurs, “that I’ve ever been so glad to be pretty fluent in sarcasm.”

“Yes, your sarcasm is absolutely awful.”

“Yes, I know, I love you too.”

He expects a familiar bitterness to wash over his tongue. It doesn’t.

Oh.

“You don’t have to say it,” Roman mumbles, almost about to doze off in his arms, “you don’t have to say anything. It’s just…it’s there if you want it.”

“I definitely won’t take it,” he says as he presses their foreheads together, “and you definitely can’t fall asleep right here.”

There needs to be another conversation. He needs to know what happened after the wedding. He needs to know how, or perhaps more accurately, why Roman changed in the span of only a few days. He needs to know how Roman got so good at pretending.

He tries not to think about how much worse he’s made it.

…he also would like to know exactly what Roman meant when he said he loved him.

#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #roman angst #roman sanders #roman sanders angst #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roceit #rociet

476 notes · View notes

alicanta77 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2: Don’t Look Back

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: angst, fluff, suspense(?)

Warnings: swearing, zombies, blood, violence, death, virus, anxiety, abusive family

Words: 11k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

——————————————————————————

I got inspiration for Post Mortem from my friend @2-cute-4-school and her story called ‘Evanescent’. She is an amazing writer and all of her work is incredible so please check her out if you haven't already! I would really recommend the story Hiraeth by her too if you’re Haechan biased and like angst. I honestly cannot thank her enough for letting me use Evanescent as a starting point for this series xx

——————————————————————————

The apocalypse wasn't the kind you would see in movies. There were no ruins that used to be buildings, no shattered glass of the windows that used to make up skyscrapers and no fallen blocks of wood to provide a small bit of shade from the now burning sun. While the virus broke out slowly, the apocalypse happened so quickly that all that happened to the world was that it emptied. Houses were empty, skyscrapers were standing, their windows only now used to reflect the sun, everything remained in tact. That’s how quickly the world gave up.

It had been a week since you had arrived at Mark’s. Since then you had each been given rooms and become accustomed to the sheer size of his house. You also found out that he really wasn't lying when he said that they had a good security system. The electrified walls around the house are enough to keep out a hoard of the undead, multiple cameras surrounded the premises and were connected to alarms around the house which means that if any did break through you would know about it immediately and, your favourite feature, was an escape hatch that took you a garage under the house, filled with fast cars and enough supplies to last a few months. His family really seemed to be prepared for everything, and, right now, that was just what you needed. But you knew that you couldn't stay here forever.

As brilliant as Mark’s house was, after 12 hours there, the entire group had sat together in the living room and unanimously decided that this would not be the place they would stay forever. While they had a large supply of food that would last a while, it would eventually run out and you would need to get more. The same applies for medicine and going to raid the stores seemed dangerous and the supplies you needed would probably be already taken. Renjun recommended finding a place with fields so that you could grow your own plants and even raise cattle. This would give you a fresh supply of meat and the plants could be used for food and medicine. However, the idea of where to find a protected field that you would need seemed to stump you all.

In the week you had been at Mark’s your ankle had also completely healed. You seemed to have no symptoms of HD, neither your veins or your eyes had changed colour and your personality had remained exactly the same. Everyone eventually came to the conclusion that, either the cut wasn't deep enough, or you couldn't get turned by scratch. You all prayed it was the latter.

You had noticed Chenle, Jisung and Mark being slightly anxious around you the past week, not that you could blame them. They had never properly met you before and everyone was watching nervously to see if you would turn. After you were fully healed, however, they all seemed to lighten up slightly and trust you a lot more. You were deep in thought about all of this when Haechan walked into your shared room.

‘Y/n?’ He asked.

‘Haechan!’ You laughed slightly. ‘God, you made me jump. What’s up?’

His face remained grim, any trace of his signature sunshine smile was long gone and he seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say.

‘What’s happened?’ You gently asked, walking up to him and guiding him to sit on your bed. He took a deep breath before speaking.

‘I want to go home.’ Your head shot up at his statement and you opened your mouth to say something, but he didn't let you. ‘Wait, just let me finish. I want to go home and get some things. I want to grab some clothes and possibly a photo and I want to see if I can find my sister. She wasn't infected with HD, meaning she is still human and I haven't had any contact with her and she's home alone with our Dad and I-’

You pulled Haechan into a small hug to calm him down. You could always tell when he was getting worked up over something because he would start to ramble on about the same point, repeating it in about four different ways. You began to hum the tune of ‘You are my sunshine’ to calm him down. It was a habit you had developed since he started hiding at yours from his father. You had always thought of him as your sunshine and revealed this to him when he arrived late one night, littered with new bruises. Your parents had quickly taken his younger sister into the bathroom, while you looked after Haechan, quietly telling him this when he whispered how he wasn't sure if he could take it anymore. It was in that moment that you both realised that nothing calmed Haechan down faster and more effectively than that song.

‘I think we should tell the rest of the guys.” You said while pulling out of the hug but still keeping a hold of his hand. ‘Some of them may want to see if their families are alive and have things to grab.’

He nodded and you both headed to go round everyone up. It didn't take as long as you had expected, due to the size of the house, but as large as the house was, it was easy to navigate. It was only three floors high, with the kitchen, living room, dining room and utility rooms on the ground floor, three of the bedrooms, two bathrooms and another living room on the first floor and one bedroom, bathroom and the security room on the top floor. Since you and Haechan were sharing the room on the top floor, you quickly checked the security room to see if you could find anyone, and luckily they were all in their room, so you quickly grabbed them and asked them to meet in the first floor living room.

Once everyone was gathered, it was time for Haechan to propose his idea.

---

‘What’s this meeting for?’ Mark asked, being the last one to walk in.

‘I’ve been thinking-’ Haechan began.

‘Oh that's never good.’ Renjun quickly interrupted, earning a glare from Haechan in return.

‘As I was saying, I’ve been thinking and, I really want to go home.’

Everyone immediately erupted into chaos about why this shouldn't happen, growing out any clarifications that Haechan was trying to make.

‘Wait, wait!’ Haechan raised his voice over the noise, silencing everyone. ‘Not forever. I’m not saying that I want to move back home I just need to visit it. I want to grab some clothes of mine and I want to see if I can find my sister. She wasn't infected with HD and if there’s a chance she is okay, I need to find her.’

This caused silence to fall over the room, confusion clearly sweeping through everyone's minds. You knew that both Jeno and Renjun knew how important Haechan’s sister was to him and you didn't doubt for a second that they would come with Haechan to get her back, but for the other four boys, you weren't so sure that they would be willing to take that risk. And you were right.

‘Is it going to be safe to go back to your house though?’ Jisung asked.

‘No it isn't.’ Chenle stated bluntly. ‘In fact it may be incredibly dangerous, there will be zombies there, it would be like us willingly walking into a trap.’

In the time you had spent with the boys you had learnt that Jisung and Chenle normally stuck to each other like glue, bouncing off each other’s energy well. Jisung was a lot more thoughtful about what he was going to say and when he was going to say it and seemed a bit more shy around new people, while Chenle would often tell you the truth even if you didn't ask for it. It was never meant in a malicious way and you could tell that the boy didn't have a mean bone in his body, he just found it easier to be honest, it was like honesty was his natural setting. Mark tried to keep everyone together, normally more logical than the younger two and would often take the time to think about all the possibilities before making any kind of decision. And finally, Jaemin, the person who you owed so much to, you had learnt absolutely loved affection. The way he would follow Jisung around to try and get a kiss often reminded you of Haechan. Jaemin was filled with a maturity that was way beyond his years and was often very good at coming up with solutions to problems. His wise nature yet loving personality made him an irreplaceable asset to the team.

‘Haechan, I don’t know what to say yet.’ Mark said, partially to himself. ‘On one hand, we can’t leave your sister and you needing things from your house makes sense, but on the other, it is really dangerous to leave right now. All of us would be risking our lives.’

Haechan didn't seem to know what to say. He had never thought that they would actually be against him trying to save his sister. Suddenly Jeno spoke up:

‘Well I’d be willing to risk my life. Haechan is a loyal friend and I have no doubt that he would do this for any of us if we asked, so I’m not letting him go alone.’

‘Nor am I.’ Renjun chimed in, standing up next to Haechan, as if in solidarity.

‘I’m going too.’ You nodded at Haechan. ‘You're not in this alone.’

Haechan nodded thankfully at you all before just looking at Jaemin for a second, as if pleading him to convince the others, but Jaemin just looked back with a confused look on his face, as if there was something he couldn't quite understand. Haechan then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him ad leaving you all behind.

An uncomfortable silence settled over you all as no one could seem to find a word to say. Then Mark finally spoke, breaking the tension.

‘Guys, I’m sorry but this is so risky, you barely got out of the school and that was only facing three zombies. Even then, y/n still got scratched. How can you expect us to willingly go into a badly infested neighbourhood to get a young girl we don’t know?’

Renjun looked at him in disbelief.

‘Because it’s his sister!’ He took a step closer to Mark very careful to make his point clear as day. ‘You don’t have to come with us, but we are going and we are going to come back with her because, god help me, he is not going to lose her and end up with his father as the only family he has left.’ After that he turned around and stormed out and back towards his shared room with Jeno. Jeno turned to you and you nodded before he quickly followed Renjun, hoping to calm him down. This left just you and the four boys, once again in an uncomfortable silence.

‘Oi.’ Chenle poked Jaemin in the side. ‘Why haven't you said anything?’

Jaemin looked up at you, and cocked his head slightly, his face still holding the slightly confused expression he had before.

‘There’s just something that I can’t get off my mind.’ He kept his eyes trained on you and uttered the sentence you hoped you would never have to hear, purely because of the questions that you knew came with it. ‘It’s about Haechan’s family.’

The other three boys turned to look at Jaemin in confusion, clearly not sharing what thought process was going through his mind. But Jaemin’s eyes never wavered from you, his unflinching stare making you fidget slightly. You didn't break eye contact however, instead asking:

‘What about it?’

‘You all knew. You all knew he would do anything to protect his sister. In fact, you knew that he would go as far as to walk to his house alone and search it from head to toe, when we all know the likelihood is that she isn't alive. I know that siblings are close, but no one else has expressed that desperation to see a family member alive. And then Renjun mentioned his father and how he didn't want him to be Haechan’s only relative and...’

He trailed off for a moment and you held your breath, praying that he would finish that sentence in the way you were expecting him to.

‘... and it made me remember his mother... and her accident.’

Your heart stopped, your eyes shut and, for a moment, the world stopped turning. A singular mention of that woman would bring Haechan to tears that took hours to stop, a night carved into a 8 year old’s memory that would scar for years to come. Even you had trouble thinking about her without getting choked up. Jaemin continued as the rest of the boys were watching in silence.

‘Y/n... I know it is not our place to pry, but there’s clearly something here that we don’t know about and- I don’t want to force you to tell us but, I think it might help us to understand a bit more.’

Mark, Chenle and Jisung all followed Jaemin’s eyes and turned to look at you. You hated to admit it, but you thought it was probably a good idea. So after a quick discussion in Renjun and Jeno’s shared room, where they both agreed that you should tell the others the truth about Haechan, you walked back into the living room. All the boys immediately turned their heads towards you as you opened the door.

‘They agree it’s probably best that you know.’ You told them as you made your way towards an armchair. Jaemin moved up on the sofa next to you that he and Jisung were sharing, allowing Chenle to sit down too, while Mark pulled up a chair to form a small circle.

‘Before I start, I need to tell you that Haechan doesn't know I’m telling you this. It’s a subject that even we can't bring up with him, so please don’t try to yourselves because it will only cause him pain and create divides in the group. None of that do we need or does he deserve. He suffered enough.’ You muttered the last part mostly to yourself, but loud enough that you knew the boys could hear it. The you took a deep breath, watching your hands in your lap, trying to keep yourself as calm as possible, before beginning.

‘Before I tell you about Haechan, you first need to know about another boy that we knew. He was called Donghyuck. He lived a street over from me when we were growing up, and we would see each other all the time so we easily became good friends. He fit seamlessly into the trio that was then just Renjun, Jeno and I, and soon we became a group of four. On the outside, he seemed to have a perfect family. Father, mother, son and daughter. Good jobs, nice house, shiny car, you couldn't find anything wrong with them. Until you looked past the front door. Behind that locked door every night was a sea of threats, drunken words and regretted actions, it was a living nightmare for Donghyuck. His father was an alcoholic. He couldn't go one day without some kind of drink and he was not a nice man at the best of times, let alone when drunk. But it only got worse. It got to the point where it was hard to tell which personality of his was worse, drunk or sober, and it even got to the point where it didn't matter. His mother tried as hard as she could to protect him and his sister from his father, but it was often hopeless. Donghyuck would watch as his mother took beating after beating from the man who swore to love and protect her for as long as he lived. Then, once he had knocked his wife unconscious, he would turn his attention to his children. Donghyuck had always taken after his mother. To anyone who knew both of them, it was as clear as day. he had the same morals, the same thought process, the same priorities and even the same laugh. So when he saw his mother doing everything to protect them, he would do anything to protect his little sister.’

You paused for a minute, looking up at the boys who were hanging on your every word. You knew it had been over ten years since the name Donghyuck was said in your presence, only his sister being able to call him that, so it wasn't surprising to you that the boys had no clue who you were talking about.

‘He would come in the next day, littered with bruises. He always claimed that he fell down the stairs. But hearing that every two weeks rings alarm bells, even in an eight year old’s head. Donghyuck was a terrible liar, it was something we also teased him about. So he knew that lying would get himself caught, and in turn get his father caught, and then break up the family that his mother would try so hard to protect. So he told the truth. He fell down the stairs. It just wasn’t for about a year before we learnt that his father was the reason he fell down the stairs, and that it was less of a fall and more of a throw.’

You paused again, swallowing the emotion that was crawling up your throat. You knew that you were no where near the emotional part of this story, and that was the fact that made you the most upset: the worst was still to come.

‘Jeno was the first to find out about Donghyuck at home. He told me and I told Renjun and before we knew it, Donghyuck had called us together and asked us not to say a word. We didn't really understand why, but he was our friend and he seemed desperate. So we kept quiet, and I wish we didn't.’

Your voice cracked slightly on the final word, giving the indication to the boys listening that something else happened. Chenle leaned forward, asking:

‘What happened? Did something happen to Donghyuck?’

You shook your head, tears beginning to grow in your eyes so you blinked them away. You couldn't afford to get emotional yet.

‘No, not to Donghyuck. Something happened to his mother.’

None of the boys said anything, all of the silently begging you to continue. You took a deep breath, steadying your voice before you continued.

‘Like I said earlier, Donghyuck’s father would always beat his mother unconscious before hurting him or his sister. But one night, she came to and woke up before his father had intended or realised. She woke up and saw him dragging Donghyuck by the scruff of his neck, while he screamed and kicked, begging for his sister to run. And when she did, out of the window and off to a safe house, his father screamed in rage and threw Donghyuck down the stairs. But he threw him hard and he barely touched the stairs before hitting the ground, leaving him there unmoving. All he could register was his mother screaming. She threw herself at her husband, fighting with everything she had in her to avenge and protect her son from further damage, but she was nothing compared to his physical strength, especially in her weakened state. Donghyuck watched as his father pushed his mother, forcing her to step backwards, but there was nothing for her to step onto. She went backwards down the stairs and banged her head on the corner of the bottom one. Donghyuck still couldn't move, in too much pain from his last fall. All he could do was watch while his mother bled and his father ran around staging the house to look like a robbery gone wrong. He then listened to his father ring the police, crying fake tears and asking for help. He watched as the paramedics took his mother and put her into a body bag, as they ripped away the one person who looked out for him, who protected him. In that moment, he changed. He vowed to never be unable to protect anyone again. He vowed to protect his sister, and to protect himself. And, finally, he changed his name. So that no one would call him the name that his father did the night he murdered his mother.’

‘What did he call himself?’ Jisung asked after a second of silence.

A new voice cut through the air, making you all turn around in your seats.

‘Haechan.’

Haechan stood in the doorway arms folded, as if he was trying to be tough and not care about what they thought of his story, but the fact that his eyes were glued to the floor, showed how terrified he was that these boys knew what he had been through. Finally he looked up at the boys sat around you and only when he did that did you all see the tear marks on his cheeks.

‘I called myself Haechan.’

Mark stood up, walked towards him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, forcing Haechan to look up at him.

‘We’re going to get your sister.’

---

You decided to leave the same day as it was still early morning and no one saw any point in wasting time. The longer you waited, the more likely Haechan’s sister was to be dead. Before leaving you had stopped in one of the utility rooms you hadn't been into yet. Mark opened the door and you were greeted with rows upon rows of weapons.

‘My family was keen on having all the means to stay safe.’ Mark explained as you walked into the room, a mixture of awe and fear clouding your mind. ‘This is my father’s room. I haven't been in here more than twice, but given the current situation, I thought these might come in useful. Can anyone here fire a gun?’

Chenle put his hand up, along with Jeno and yourself. When you were younger, Jeno’s parents had taken you two clay pigeon shooting and it had become something of a tradition between the two of you.

Mark nodded at you both.

‘Good. You three can grab these guns, the same one I have. If you have less experience, then grab a pistol. They have less bullets but they're easier to fire and the recoil won't injure you.’

Mark held out a larger gun for you and you grabbed it before switching on the safety and slinging it over your should using the strap. You also decided to grab a pistol when you saw that there were some left over.

‘Wow. Your dad had a lot of guns...’

Mark looked up at you from placing a knife in a holder on his arm.

‘Yeah... I always hated it. I guess I should be thankful now huh?’

He gave you a small smile, which you returned. You took a look at everyone, now that they were fully suited up. Jisung had one pistol, one longer knife and three grenades on him, Chenle had a long knife, one pistol and the larger gun that Mark had given him, Jeno had the same gun and two knives, Jaemin had two pistols and a grenade, Renjun was equipped with a pistol, two knives and a grenade, Mark had the same machine gun as you, a pistol and a knife, Haechan had two pistols, two knives and a grenade and you had the same larger gun as Mark did, one pistol and a knife. Jisung had also recommended for you all to put tape around your forearms as that was a place where zombies usually bite. While it felt very strange and restricted your movements slightly, you were glad the kid had watched so many movies that he came up with this idea.

Once you were all armed and ready, you headed out to the same cars that you drove in to get away from the school. The tanks were basically still full, so you didn't need to worry about running out of gas. You all got into the same cars as before and sat in the same seats. As Jeno and Mark began to drive off you couldn’t help but wonder if this was you subconsciously searching for any kind of stability and routine, now that your life had pretty much fallen apart in around one week.

When driving back to your street, you took the time to think about the conversation you had had with Haechan in the living room that morning. It was just after you had told the boys his story.

~flashback~

The rest of the boys had left the living room, some going to the bathrooms and some getting a quick bite to eat before you set off. You stood in front of Haechan, neither of you saying anything. You weren't really sure what to say, you had essentially just told his bigger secret to four almost strangers without his permission. You guessed the best thing to do would be to apologise.

‘I’m sorry.’ You lifted your eyes from the floor and looked directly at him. ‘It wasn't my place to tell them that at all and I should have made sure it was okay with you. I’m really sorry.’

When he still said nothing your feelings went out of control slightly, feeling as though you had massively betrayed his trust and he would never forgive you and then you would lose your best friend, the person you cared about more than anyone else you had ever met. With all these thoughts swirling around your head and your anxiety fuelling them to get more and more out of control, you couldn't help the tears that started to form in your eyes.

This made you frustrated with yourself. If either of you should be crying it should be Haechan, he just had to relive the day his mother died. Haechan was also crying, but the point was that you shouldn't be.

Haechan gently wiped away the tears that were gently falling down your cheeks. Then he proceeded to place a feather light kiss on your forehead before bringing you into a hug.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered ‘Renjun and Jeno came to get me as soon as they agreed with you, and I- I wanted to come in and stop you, that's why I was in the doorway, but when I heard you telling them what had happened I just listened. And I remembered my mum and all the good she did and how she always fought for the right things and then I heard you say how I take after her and-’

His words were caught in his throat as he choked on a sob. Haechan had always worn his heart on his sleeve and was never good at hiding his emotions. Talking about his mother was something that had always been impossible for him to do without breaking down. He couldn't even think of her without tearing up. But through the tears he continued, determined to say what was on his mind.

‘It reminded me of how much I need to fight to protect everyone. I know the likelihood is that my sister isn't alive, but I have to check. Mum always taught me how to be strong for others, and I’m going to do that, for her. I promised her I would protect those that I loved, those around me and I can't let her down, especially not now. So thank you, because hearing that story, as painful as it is, reminded me of my reason to fight.’

You kept silent, knowing that Haechan didn't need words right now but just silent reassurance that you were there and you loved him. So you pulled away from him slightly and looked him dead in the eyes before placing a kiss on his cheek. His lips curved into a small smile at your action, making you do it again. As his smile grew wider you soon found yourself peppering kissing across his entire face, forcing him to eventually let out the giggle that you loved so much. He pushed his forehead against yours and you breathed out a sigh of contentment. He pulled back for a second and you watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Did he want to kiss you? You did the same to him, and watched as he slowly leaned in, as if he was giving you time to pull away.

‘Yo, guys? Mark needs us downstairs... Oh sorry, didn't mean to interrupt but we need to get going soon.’ Chenle stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching as you and Haechan stepped out of your embrace and nodded in thanks. With that uncomfortable note he disappeared down the corridor so fast that there was still a cartoon smoke outline of his body hanging in the air.

‘So we should go?’ Haechan asked after a second of silence.

‘Yeah.’ You replied, a new kind of fear and determination taking over your body. ‘Let’s go home.’

~flashback ends~

You were replaying that moment in your head the entire car ride to your house. Haechan was going to kiss you. Your best friend wanted to kiss you, and you wanted him to. You weren't sure what this meant for your relationship either. You didn't know if it would make things more complicated or if everything would somehow fall into place. Or what if-

‘Y/n!’ Renjun’s voice cut through your whirlwind of thoughts. You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the boy who had been watching you for the past ten minutes. ‘Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it. You're overthinking.’

‘I have anxiety. There’s no other kind of thinking available.’ You sassed back, making Jeno chuckle and Haechan smirk slightly. The boys all knew that, even though you could be very logical and factual about physical situations, when it comes to anything to do with emotions or other people’s opinions, you start to drive yourself crazy with all the different possible scenarios you create in your head. You were always glad that you had them to tell you when to calm down though. So you nodded gratefully at Renjun who smiled back.

In the past week you had also noticed the boys being less teasing with you. Saying they were being more affectionate isn't the right word but, for example, normally Renjun would have rolled his eyes and jokingly complained about how much you need him and how lost you would be without him, but today he just smiled. You didn't mind it, you knew you were being less teasing with them. For you, it’s because of the fear. When you don’t know which moment is going to be your last, you want to treasure those around you so much more.

Suddenly the car pulled to a stop and Jeno’s voice uttered a sentence you had heard a million times before, but it had never had this effect on you.

‘We’re here.’

---

Mark had decided to stop the cars about a minute walk from your street, in a local abandoned park, one you actually used to come to all the time. It made sense, if there were zombies on the road you didn't want to draw masses of attention to yourself by driving into them in two large, black range rovers. You climbed out of the car, pulled then gun off your back and into your hands and looked around you.

Everyone looked nervous, you couldn't blame them. You were nervous too, but you also had a very strong reason for doing this. You began to walk, in silence, and luckily all you, Renjun, Haechan and Jeno lived close to each other. It made it much easier to get to all of your houses. You also learnt that Chenle lived a road over, so they thought they would go there to, and possibly grab some more weapons. Chenle didn't spend a lot of time talking about his family, he simply stated that both his parents were infected so they would be zombies now, and left it at that. It was clear he didn't want any further questions on it.

The streets were empty. You had thought that they would be full of zombies and you would have to fight your way through every step. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for. Two doors away from Haechan’s house you suddenly heard a strange groaning. It was a noise you had only heard once before and it sent a chill right down your spine.

You all stopped immediately where you were and turned around very slowly. You could see a zombie down the other end of the street, and it didn't look like it had seen you yet. Taking this into consideration, Mark gestured for you to move forwards as quickly and quietly as you could. You had no idea how many more there were wandering around and would be alerted of your presence, were you to fire a gun.

With every step you took, it felt like Haechan’s house was getting further away, your heart pounding so hard you were sure that people could hear it. After what felt like forever, you had made it and Haechan quickly unlocked the door and you got inside.

You spared another look out of the window and saw more and more zombies starting to roam the streets, all of them being walking ghosts of their former selves.

The world became a walking ghost town.

You all tiptoed through the house, Haechan whispering out his sister’s name as loud as he dared. You spilt up slightly, with you and Mark following Haechan to his sister’s room and the others separating into two groups and focusing on seeing what they could get from him house.

As you reached the door to Haechan’s sister’s room, he reached up to push it open when Mark grabbed his hand.

‘Wait!’ He had a look of pure fear across his face.

‘What?’ Haechan stared him down, clearly not pleased that he was stopping him when he was this close to finding out.

‘Just, listen for a minute, I think I heard something.’

And Mark was right, he had heard something. He had heard the noise that none of you ever wanted to hear again. The low groan of a zombie.

That was it for Haechan, he burst open the door and, when he saw the sight in his little sister’s room, nearly crumbled on the spot.

His sister was lying on the floor crying in pain, while his zombified father was biting into her arm.

You and Mark seemed frozen at the sight in front of you. But Haechan didn't even stop to pull out his gun when he threw himself at his father. He pulled the older man off his younger sister and rolled on top of him, grabbing his knife and plunging it straight into his head.

You quickly ran to the little girl on the floor, pulling her head into you lap and stroking her hair as she cried in pain.

Mark ran over to Haechan, who had completely lost control at this point and was stabbing his father over and over again, wherever he could reach. Mark grabbed him by the arms and pulled him off him.

‘Haechan! Haechan, he’s dead. You did it, he’s dead.’ He shouted this right in his ear, somehow managing to shock Haechan back into the current situation.

Haechan’s eyes shot to his sister, currently lying on your legs and he ran towards her.

‘No...’ He whispered as the tears began to fall down his face. ‘Please, I can’t be too late, not again.’

He pulled the dying girl into his arms entirely, not caring about the blood that was getting on his clothes from her various wounds. He cradled the girl he had cared for his entire life, crying into her hair. Then she suddenly spoke. A quiet, yet determined voice that cut through the air like a knife.

‘Donghyuck?’ Her eyes opened slightly and, when she saw her brother in front of her, she smiled.

‘Hi sweetheart, I’m here.’ Haechan smiled back, his full of tears while hers was a smile of pure joy.

‘Good... now I don’t mind dying.’

Haechan’s smile disappeared at that.

‘No, no. You’re not going to die, we’re gonna take you back and patch you up. Don’t be stupid, you’re not going to die.’

‘Hyuckie, I don’t mind. You’re here now that’s all that matters. I knew you would come, you've always been my hero.’

‘But I came too late. I couldn't save you.’ At this point Haechan’s tears were overflowing, as were yours and even Mark’s.

‘But you already have. Every time you took hit from dad or told me to run to y/n’s, you saved me.’

‘Please... I can’t lose you too.’ He hugged her close again at that point, as the rest of the boys found their way to her room, following the noises from the previous attack. Upon seeing the scene in front of them, Jeno fell to his knees and Renjun leant down to comfort him, as the tears fell down both of their cheeks.

‘Don’t worry Hyuckie, I’ll be with Mum. I’m gonna get to see Mum again.’ Again, she looked Haechan directly in the eyes and smiled. There was no sadness in the smile, only pure hope and joy at the thought of seeing her long lost mother. ‘You can do this Hyuckie, you can be stronger than you think. You’re gonna be okay without me.’

‘But you were my drive, how can I keep going now?’

“You find something else. Someone else you care about like you’ve never cared before. Besides, I’m still going to be with you, and so is Mum. Hyuck, she’s so proud of you, you know?’

Haechan just looked at her as he continued to cry and she grimaced slightly in pain, the black veins spreading across her chest. It was clear she didn't have much time left.

‘Hyuck, can you promise me two things?’

‘Of course, anything.’

‘One, please make sure I see Mum. I don’t want to turn into him.’ Her eyes flickered towards their dead father a few meters away and, even though Haechan visibly flinched at his sister’s request to kill her, he still nodded.

‘And two?’ He asked, his voice at a whisper at this point.

‘Be Donghyuck again. Donghyuck was my hero, not Haechan, Donghyuck didn't run away from anything, he fought to protect me. Donghyuck is who came back for me today, please be him again, be my brother.’

Haechan seemed to be stunned into silence, but managed to nod.

‘Thank you.’ She whispered as her voice trailed off and she shut her eyes.

Haechan just sat there holding her and then pulled out his gun. No one said a word, all of you in complete silence, watching as he placed one final kiss on his sister’s head before he replaced his lips with the barrel of his gun, and pulled the trigger. She didn't move, having already been completely limp in his arms before.

Haechan dropped the gun and cried. He cried like you had never seen him cry before. His entire body moved with his sobs as he repeated the same sentence, over and over again, under his breath whilst rocking her back and forwards.

‘She’s with mum now.’

None of you moved, no one knowing what to say or do. You had all known that the likelihood of Haechan’s sister being alive was slim but none of you would have ever expected to be greeted with the sight you were. Not much time had passed before Renjun gently placed a hand on Haechan’s shoulder and spoke in a soft tone.

‘I’m really sorry but we have to go, we have four other houses to get to and the zombies outside must have heard the gunshot.’

Haechan nodded, understanding the situation but he still found it hard to let go of her. He stood up and carried his dead sister over to her bed in the corner of the room. He placed her under the covers, kissed her forehead and whispered a goodbye, as if he was tucking her in for the night. Then he turned around.

‘Haechan-’ Jeno started, but he was cut off.

‘Donghyuck.’ Haechan corrected him. Jeno didn't say anything, just let his friend finish. ‘She wanted me to be Donghyuck, so that’s who I’m going to be. Call me Donghyuck.’

Jeno smiled slightly at that. ‘Let’s go, Donghyuck.’

With that you all stood up and walked out of the room, Donghyuck closing the door behind him. On your way out of his house you stopped briefly at Donghyuck’s bedroom and he grabbed a few different clothes and also the three pictures he always kept in his wallet. One was of Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck and yourself, one was of him, his mother and his sister, and one was of just you and Donghyuck.

After grabbing these you all met at the front door and tried to figure out how you were going to split up for the next houses. Mark pointed out that it may be safer to travel in smaller groups of two or three so that you draw less attention to yourself and keep quieter in the houses. You still had four houses to go to, yours, Renjun’s, Jeno’s and Chenle’s.

‘Not mine.’ Jeno spoke suddenly, causing you all to turn and look at him in confusion.

‘Why not?’ Jisung asked.

‘Because all my family were infected with HD. I know that none of them are alive and I really don't want to see them like that if I can avoid it.’ Jeno avoided eye contact with all of you, clearly more upset about the previous events and this revelation than he was letting on.

Mark nodded and decided to split people up into groups.

“Right, ok then. Renjun, you take Jeno and Jisung to your house, I’ll go with Chenle and Haech- Donghyuck to Chenle’s house and y/n, you take Jaemin to yours. How does that sound?’

You all nodded in agreement, your house was closest so it made the most sense that you only had one person come with you. Less travel meant less danger. You spared a look at Donghyuck and saw him watching you with his eyebrows furrowed, a worried expression on his face. Before you all headed out again, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his kitchen.

‘Be careful, please? I don’t like that you only have one person with you for backup.’

‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Jaemin has saved my ass multiple times already and besides, I live closest to you, what's the worst that can happen?’

Donghyuck simply looked at you in disbelief.

‘Sorry...’ You mumbled remembering what he had just had to watch. ‘I guess the worst is pretty bad huh?’ Donghyuck cast his eyes to the floor, making you place a finger under his chin and tilt his head up so that he could look at you. ‘I’ll be careful, I promise.’ You hesitated for a second before leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. With that you turned away and walked back towards Jaemin.

The plan was to meet back at the cars in ten minutes exactly. You and Jaemin exited Donghyuck’s house and headed to yours, which was further down the same street. You walked as quickly as you could and, due to the zombies roaming the street in front of your house, you used the back door to enter. Once you were inside Jaemin quickly grabbed your wrist and spun you around, needing to ask you a question.

‘Wait! This may sound harsh but I need to ask, do you want to look for your parents, or do you want to just grab your stuff and go.’

You thought for a second before replying.

‘Just grab my things and go.’ Your voice shook slightly as you continued. ‘My mum was infected so she won't be alive and, let’s face it, the likelihood is that my dad won’t either. I’d rather not get distracted by false hope.’

Jaemin nodded, his grip on your wrist sliding down so that he squeezed your hand comfortingly before letting go. You quickly explained to him that your bedroom was the first door on the left once you were up the stairs, then you began to walk. You had never thought that walking through the house you grew up in would ever be so terrifying, but every little noise or movement made you jump and swirl you gun around towards it. Eventually you and Jaemin moved side by side, focusing on keeping each other safe no matter what.

You reached the stairs and began to climb them, you speed growing slightly. You weren't sure if zombies could climb stairs, you definitely couldn't picture it but you didn't want to take any risks. Once you reached the top, you turned into your room without wasting a second.

Luckily the house seemed to be completely empty, letting you grab some clothes and shove them into a backpack, while instructing Jaemin to grab somethings from the bathroom. Like Donghyuck, you also had some photos you wanted to take with you, one of your family, one of your group of four, and again, one of just you and Donghyuck. At a final glance you also grabbed your polaroid camera and film so that you could take some photos of your current group. You weren't sure why, you just wanted them. Jaemin arrived back with various things and together you shoved them in your backpacks, but you were both stopped when you heard that guttural groan that was becoming all too familiar.

You shared a frightened glance before listening to it again. Both of you agreed it seemed to come from the room next to yours. You stood up silently and grabbed your guns, switching off the safety as you moved out of your bedroom. You and Jaemin proceeded silently down the stairs where you were greeted with a zombie.

It was your father.

For a few seconds your dad’s zombified body just stared at you, his dull, grey, lifeless eyes boring into your own. Then he moved. He moved a speed which you had never seen before, letting out an inhuman screech while he did so. He landed on you and started biting anywhere he would reach. You pushed against him, pleading with you father to get off and let you go.

Then a bang rang out, stopping his movements. You felt something cold on your face and you dad fell off you to reveal Jaemin stood behind him with his pistol up, the tip still smoking. You brought a shaky hand up to your face and wiped your fingers against you forehead. When you brought them back down, you saw blood.

Your dad’s blood.

You choked on a sob, one that was so desperate to leave you that it almost couldn't. Then you broke down. Jaemin immediately found his way beside you and pulled you into his arms. You could feel him shaking from the fear of the past few moments, while he whispered:

‘I thought I was going to lose you.’

You suddenly felt something wet on you hair and realised that Jaemin was crying too. When you came to this realisation, you turned your body so that you could hug him back, knowing that he would need some comfort as well. This wasn't just you breaking down over your father, it was everything that the past week had thrown upon you. You had lost your entire life, your family, your home, the parents of your close friends who were like a second family. All you had left was your group of eight.

You weren't there for long, knowing that you both had to get back to the cars before your ten minutes were up. You stood up and stretched to a hand to Jaemin who took it gratefully. You kept holding him before you both headed out of the back door and towards the cars.

When you approached them, you saw that the other 6 boys were already there, so you and Jaemin jogged to catch up. Chenle noticed you both first, nudging Donghyuck who was nervously biting his nails. Donghyuck looked up and immediately moved towards you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

‘Oh thank god.’ He whispered, before pulling away and continuing in a normal voice. ‘We heard gun shots and-’ He noticed the blood on your face. ‘Are you okay?’

You nodded. ‘It’s not mine. And you were right Jisung.’ You lifted up your tape covered arm to show him the small dents in it. ‘Tape saved my life.’

Jeno walked forward, using his sleeve to pat and wipe what he could off. ‘Is it a zombie’s?’

You nodded, ‘My dad’s.’

A silence fell over the group as Renjun stepped forward to hug you. He had known your dad for as long as you could remember and you knew he was like a second father to him.

“I’m okay.’ You whispered. ‘Can we please leave here though?’

Renjun nodded as he pulled away. ‘Let’s go.’

With that you all piled into the cars and drove away from the street that once was home to you, but is now only home to the horrible memories created today.

---

It had been 18 hours since you had all gone back home. You had immediately taken a shower and washed off the blood and dirt from your body. In fact, everyone had had showers that night and gone to bed pretty quickly.

Donghyuck was still heartbroken about his sister. You heard him crying in his bed that night and you wasted no time in crawling into it with him. You wrapped him up in your arms and began to gently sing you are my sunshine. You had just made it past the first chorus before his tears had subsided and he thanked you. He told you that he wasn't going to cry about it much more than he already had. He didn't want it to be something that kept him back, no, instead it was fuel to the fire that was driving him forward. He had also finally avenged the death of his mother, allowing him to let her rest in peace and allowing himself to move on.

You were proud of him.

He also cried for your parents. The people who took his sister and him in every time they ran away to your house, which was very often. They respected his boundaries when asking questions about the injuries and often made excuses to invite them over for dinner without his father to give them time out of the house. He confessed that he felt he owed them so many thank yous that he will never be able to say. You reassured him that they knew how grateful he was and that they had loved him like he was their own. They had once told you that Donghyuck was like the son they had never had.

So you lay in bed together that night, humming comforting songs and mourning the losses of your families together.

By the next morning, you all had another meeting. All eight of you sat in the living room on the ground floor, the silence sitting heavily on all of your shoulders.

Mark, who, as the oldest, had become the sort of leader of your group, spoke first.

‘I know yesterday was tough on everyone, and that's why I think it’s best that we leave here as soon as possible.’

The prompted everyone to look up at him in surprise, but, before anyone could interrupt or ask questions, he continued.

‘We had already decided that we couldn't stay here forever and the longer we do, the more bad memories we are making of this place. I think we should leave while we can still remember this place as it used to be. When it was still our home.’

What Mark said actually made a lot of sense to you. When you arrived at the abandoned park, you thought of the times you, Renjun, Jeno and Haechan would spend on the swings. And the time Jeno had help you after you fell off the monkey bars, how the 7 year old boy had insisted on carrying you back to your house and stayed with you while you mum patched you up. You remembered how he had insisted on teaching you the trick of climbing above them instead. You really didn’t want that memory to be replace with a different one. So you voiced your agreement.

‘I think that's a good idea. But we need to actually figure out where we are going to go and how we are going to get there.’

‘I think we need some rules.’ Jaemin spoke up. ‘Things like, never go anywhere alone, and stuff like that.’

Mark nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. We’ll create those after we decide where to go.’

‘Is no one else thinking what I’m thinking? About the zombies?’ CHenle questioned, looking around at all of you.

‘What are you thinking?’ Jisung asked, all of you clearly having no clue what he was on about.

‘That what if it isn't just people who are currently infected. Zombies are the living dead right? So what if the disease mutates and those who are already dead, and have been for years, start living again?’ His question added a new level of danger to an already life threatening situation.

‘The second people start rising we’re really screwed. The dead outnumber the living one hundred to one.’ Renjun stated.

‘Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. No need to freak out over something that hasn't happened yet.’

Jaemin’s words made Jeno nod slightly, you only noticing because he was beside you. You nudged him gently with your arm and he turned his head to look at you.

‘Hey, you okay? You’re quieter than normal.’

‘Yeah I’m fine.’ He turned away from you and faced the rest of the group. ‘What about an army base?’

‘An army base?’ Jisung questioned.

‘Yeah. It seems like the place we’ve been talking about. I did a summer training course at one last year and they've got loads of fields that they used for training which we can use those for growing plants and raising cattle, they also have lockers filled with clothes we could wear and there will be left over weapons too. Not to mention that if we could get the security system back up and running, it would probably be the safest place on earth. Of course there will be some zombies there but I'm sure we could take them, I mean, what's the alternative?’ Jeno explained.

It seemed like the perfect solution, almost too good to be true. You knew it was likely to be very infected but Jeno’s question kept ringing around in your head: what’s the alternative?

‘Anyone got any objections to that?’ Mark asked the rest of you, to which you all shook your heads. ‘Great.’

After arguing for the next half and hour or so, you all came up with the 3 rules you agreed to live by from now on:

1: Never go anywhere alone

2: If you hear anything or see anything odd, find the rest of the group immediately

3: When running, no matter what, don’t look back

You had just finished deciding on these rules when a loud crash stopped your conversation.

‘What the hell was that?’ Jaemin stood up, while Mark ran to the front door. He was only gone for a few seconds before he shot back inside.

‘Get up! We have to go!’ He shouted, grabbing Jisung and pulling him up.

Jeno grabbed Chenle while asking ‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Zombies. They’ve got past the gate, I don’t know how it wasn't electrified. But-’

‘What about the cameras, the alarms?’ Renjun interrupted.

‘They rebooted themselves five minutes ago and aren't back online yet. They have scheduled update system that I don’t know how to override.’ Mark explained and he stood by the door of the living room. ‘The zombies outside are about to make it inside the house, we need to get to the escape hatch as fast as we can. Jeno what’s the address of the army base?’

Jeno shouted back some numbers and an area code that you didn't understand, focusing on the sound of groaning that was radiating through Mark’s house.

‘Wait! No I can’t leave, I need to get the photos. Also we need our weapons, we won’t last five minutes without them.’ Donghyuck reasoned, desperation creeping into his voice.

‘There’s cameras there, we can watch and wait for them to leave, then we’ll grab our things and go.’ Mark reassured him. ‘Right the coast is clear, give me five seconds then run straight for the hatch, and remember, don’t look back.’

You all nodded and repeated ‘don’t look back’, knowing that you would run faster. This wasn't about not getting seen, it was about getting there alive.

Mark opened the door and ran first, quickly punching in the code and then the rest of you sprinted. You staggered how you ran to prevent you all crowding the entrance, but when it was your turn, you ran like you never had before. You didn’t look back, but focused only on the gap in the floor with Chenle’s outstretched hand waiting for you. You grabbed it and quickly jumped into the room, ignoring the steps there and instead favouring speed. It wasn’t long before Renjun arrived and then Jaemin, the door closing behind him. All of you breathed a sigh of relief as Mark quickly locked the door before turning on the lights and starting up the cameras. However, Jaemin just stared at the door above him.

Jisung noticed this first. ‘What’s wrong?’ His voice was shaking, not that you could blame him.

‘I- I didn't shut the door behind me.’ Jaemin stuttered, panic lacing his voice. ‘I wasn’t last so I didn't shut it.’

You felt your blood run cold as you looked around your safe room and noticed one person missing.

‘Where’s Jeno?’

The cameras suddenly blinked to life and you saw the house in front of you.

Mark lifted a shaky finger to the screen that showed Jeno and Renjun’s room.

‘There.’

‘No...’ You heard Renjun whisper and he suddenly threw himself against the door that was separating you from the zombies crawling your home. Jaemin grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him back.

Donghyuck immediately made his way over to where Mark was, pressing the button labelled speaker, allowing him to say something through the speakers around the house. Mark quickly flipped the audio switch so that you could hear what Jeno’s reply was.

‘Lee Jeno! What are you doing? Get back here!’ You could hear the strain in his voice.

Jeno sat down on his bed and lowered his head. ‘I’m sorry Donghyuck. I can’t.’

Donghyuck couldn't understand. ‘What do you mean you can't? Yes you can, we’re going to unlock the door and you need to get in here where it’s safe.’

‘That’s just it!’ Jeno shouted. ‘It’s not safe.’

A sob escaped you as you clamped a hand over your mouth while Jeno continued, the rest of you shocked into silence.

‘I’m sorry, but the only way you are getting out of here is if these zombies are killed. Donghyuck was right, you can't leave without your things and you can't leave that room until these things are gone so...’ He paused his sentence while he hoisted his gun onto his shoulder. ‘I’ll get rid of them.’

You walked up to where Donghyuck was, holding down the button yourself.

‘Jeno please... Please don’t do this, come with us, we’ll be safe together.’

Renjun stood next to you, taking his turn to speak.

‘Jeno, please. We can’t lose you.’

Jeno stopped where he was. ‘And I can't lose any of you. So please, let me do this. I’m strong, I’ll be fine.’ His halfhearted attempt at a joke fell flat when the cameras picked up the eleven zombies that were moving quickly through the house. ‘I’ll be fine.’ He repeated, much quieter this time, thinking you couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

You watched hopelessly as Jeno left the room with his gun at the ready and stalked around the house looking for a zombie. By this point, Mark had taken over the speaker button and was telling him where about in the house each zombie was. Your heart was in your mouth while you watched one of your best friends face this alone.

Jeno had taken out six zombies so far, but the last five were all in the same room. And they seemed to move fast. It seemed that zombies all moved at different speeds, and Jeno had somehow left the five fastest to face all at once.

‘Jeno, you need to wait for us. There is a clear path from where we are now to the stairs, we can grab our guns and help you.’ Mark quickly said, trying to stop Jeno from taking them on all at once.

Jeno looked out of the window and shook his head. ‘There’s no time. More are coming and bullets aren't gonna kill them fast enough.’

Jaemin rushed forward and grabbed the speaker from Mark.

‘Jeno, don’t be stupid we are gonna help you. Now wait there!’

‘Okay, okay. But be quick.’ Jeno held up his hands in surrender.

Mark unlocked the door and the rest of you got ready to run back for the stairs. Jeno was behind the door to the kitchen which was on the opposite side to the stairs, meaning you would be able to attack that zombies from both sides. Mark was getting ready to push open the door when Jeno’s voice made you all stop.

“Hey, I love you guys. Never forget that. Thanks for putting up with me for ten years.’

None of you replied, not understanding why it sounded like he was saying goodbye when you were escaping in less than five minutes.

Mark pushed open the door and you all took off. Splitting up once you reached the first floor, you and Donghyuck carried on again up to your shared room. You reached it and grabbed the weapons and backpack from where they were lying on the floor.

When you had both got everything, you nodded at each other and prepared to head back downstairs. You spared a look out of the window and realised that Jeno was right. You didn't have a lot of time. There were zombies crawling the streets and many of them were headed for Mark’s house.

You and Donghyuck had just made it down the stairs to the first floor when a bang resonated through the house, so powerful that it shook the floor where you were standing.

Once it died away, there was pure silence. Even the zombies outside had stopped moaning.

‘What the hell was that?’ Donghyuck asked, looking at you with wide eyes.

The rest of the boys shot out of their room, Mark saying. ‘A grenade. That was a grenade.’

Your heart stopped as you all came to the same horrifying realisation.

Jeno.

---

The next few minutes were a blur. You all shot downstairs to find him, only to be greeted with the remains of the explosion. You couldn't find any sign of Jeno. The only thing Renjun found was the silver identity tab necklace that Jeno had worn since his training camp at the army the previous summer.

Finding that had confirmed your worst suspicions.

Jeno had blown himself up to save the rest of you.

Donghyuck froze, Renjun screamed and you collapsed. All three of you portraying grief in different ways. Donghyuck couldn't move at all. Jaemin actually had to slap him across the face and scream that they needed to go. The blast had attracted every zombie that was roaming the streets. Renjun just yelled. He cursed out everything that had happened. He screamed at the disease and at Jeno for being too brave and too loyal. He cursed his friend for just not letting himself be selfish for once and let them help. Mark and Jisung grabbed him by an arm each and pulled him towards the escape tunnel. You just fell to your knees. The boy who had protected you since the day you met him was dead. The boy who taught you tricks on a skateboard and how to do a cart wheel was dead. The boy who was so scared that you might fall off the monkey bars again that he taught you how to climb across them was dead. And you didn't even tell him goodbye.

Jaemin ran towards you, picking you up and carrying you towards the exit. All the while apologising but saying that you had to go. You vaguely recognised the cars you would be travelling in, different ones this time. Jaemin put you in the passenger seat and you just about registers Chenle and Donghyuck in the backseat through your tears. You could see Chenle crying. You knew that he had looked up to Jeno like the older brother he never had. You curled up into a ball and just sobbed.

And it was like that that you started the next step of your journey. With one less person than when you started.

134 notes · View notes

zirkkun · 3 years

Note

Yo you have every right to be upset about things! You're still a person with your own feelings and deserve to be treated kindly. No one should come at you for making things you enjoy or for misunderstandings. I hope things get better for you even if I wasn't here for when all the drama happened (or maybe I was and just wasn't aware of it? I tend to avoid drama as much as possible tbh)

I didn't really post about it much. I think I answered about 4 asks about it (three of them in the same post because i was sure it was the same anon due to the similar string of seemingly continued messages) and the rest I just deleted as soon as they came in, but I got... A lot. A lot of mean things said too. Kinda hurts when you wanted to make something because you knew this work was highly criticized and wanted to let people give it a second chance only to be shot down by the people you were hoping to defend lol

In short, and a lot of it I missed because I was blocked by a lot of people so my friend sent me screencaps; someone took I believe only the old ask box post I had for ULR, which at the time was called "Underlust Rewrite," and was disgusted at the fact that everything was revamped and "made for kids" (because it's not 18+ explicit content, but as I've said before, it's just cause I'm too scared to be horny on main, and I've literally made a whole different biological system for ULR so I can write the necessary story ""sex scenes"" without it being human-like sex or otherwise uncomfortable or too explicit for me to draw, but I still consider it a mature story overall), so they blocked me instantly here and on twitter and then made a callout post on twitter itself. People were telling me originally to stop calling the AU Underlust, and I didn't really get it at first, because like, what's the difference between my spinoff and, say, Underlust Gold, Swapfell Indigo, TS!Underswap, you know, names that have add-ons from the original title to differentiate it but still connect it to the source. So that's what I said, as well as if I removed the Underlust name, it would be considered stealing to me, because I'd be disconnecting it from the source. But apparently, instead, what had been the concern was that it was just being called "Underlust" and the "Rewrite" aspect was implying I was replacing the original story, which like, had never been my intention and I've made a bunch of things with both the ULR and UL cast together and love the idea of Lust and Ace meeting up and just being a disaster duo of not working together at all. I just adore Underlust like it's in my pinned FAQ, Lust's been in my banner for months now, and he's practically my staple pfp character on every account but here atm.

It took like 3 days for it to actually click what was going on, because once I finally got the chance to have a conversation with someone where they weren't telling me I was the scum of the Earth -- which, honestly, bless the three people I talked to, they were so sweet (which actually included someone from the Japanese side of the fandom whose art I loved too... yeah it got pretty far. Once I sent them a message though it was cleared up quickly and they did post a clarification post about ULR and me, so that was nice to see.) -- I finally got the chance to realize that this was a misunderstanding from the beginning, from both sides, where people coming at me were saying I was doing all of the stuff above and probably more but those stuck the most, while I was confused as to where this information and accusations were coming from and what they were referring to in the first place. They probably never explained it in the anon asks because, well, they probably assumed I knew what I was doing, but when they came at me about something I didn't do with vague context of something I did do, I was very confused, and got really defensive really quickly, and really honestly snapped pretty hard. After my first initial explanation post and people were still trying to tell me to stop ULR/don't call it Underlust/whatever else there was, I just got tired and told people to block me if they didn't like it. But that didn't really stop anyone and honestly made it worse because that's when I started getting really nasty messages. I like... Specifically remember one where someone called me a lowlife and a thief, and that one stuck the most, but I tended to not read through them before deleting them for my own sanity. I actually did this to one of the people who'd later talked to me calmly about it at first too, because I had just woken up, and really didn't want to read an essay lecture on everything everyone's been telling me at the crack of 7am when I was borderline ready to delete my account and start over lol

Some people I do remember were accusing me of trying to censor nsfw content or erase it as well because ULR isn't 18+, and I'm out here on my horny ass like "wh. What are they talking about, where did you get that idea, have you SEEN my ao3 recommended list," /j but in all seriousness I really didn't understand that accusation at all because I've never been against nsfw content in the slightest and lowkey? This is very dumb -- but like, you know how they say when you get hate mail, you know you've made it? Well, for me, my thought has always been, "When there's 18+ fancontent of my OC's, I'll have finally made it." This is... Not a joke, some of my friends think its very weird LMAO oh well. I've been on the internet for far too long at this point -- like, definitely since I was far too young, probably, and being with a family of the next youngest being 12 years older than me, I really dove into stuff pretty quickly I definitely shouldn't have, but hey that's life -- I'm really unfazed by mostly anything now. Hell, me making ULR was honestly half motivated by me wanting to make others more comfortable with this kind of media, discussing sexuality and otherwise sexual-considered topics, without really being embarrassed or bothered by it. Because, people talk about death and killing and whatever other gorey stuff just fine, but the moment sex comes up, people just gasp in awe, y'know? I kind of grew up that way myself but like... ironically, in being more comfortable with my asexuality, I realized that it's honestly not that big of a deal. Sure, we don't need to hear the details of everything. We don't need to hear the details of a murder either. But I will never understand how murder is always the lowest on the "morally wrong list of things to not to" to so many people and that it's fine to mention, but even consider bringing up anything else and it's like, a sin and you're a bad person. Even racism is like, higher up on there for a lot of people, which it's like... this is an issue that needs to be discussed, or it can never be solved. You can't just kick that away and hope it goes away on its own, that's never how it works.

Ah, well, now I've gone off tangent lol. Sorry to make you read a blob of text lmao but having things in a cohesive format of what I've been thinking does feel a bit better. Thank you for the support regardless, and I do want to keep making what I really enjoy, because frankly, I really want to make things that make people take a step back and think for a moment, y'know? Things that invoke like a realization in yourself about something you didn't even know. That's how fiction's always been for me, so I want to give back by making it that way too. ... maybe my horny content is exempt from this however. That's just. Self indulgence LMAO.

Probably helps that I'm actually talking this all out for once, too, since before any of this I tried to keep as much of the situation contained to myself as possible in hopes I could clean it up before it got too bad. That was, in hindsight, probably a terrible idea lol. But I didn't want to be a source of stress for anyone following me or become the new creator-to-defend that like, 50% of people hate and 50% of people love and that you're either on one side or the other and there's no where in between. (I feel like Arin Hanson comes to mind for me every time I think of someone like this.) I know I can't please everyone and I knew internet hate would come eventually, but like, didn't expect it to be over a name or tag choice. I thought that would be a simple enough DM or clearable thing but apparently not, especially since I saw someone a few weeks ago delete their blog over a similar thing (though, the opposite, in a way: posting nsfw in a sfw tag by mistake). It wasn't in the UT fandom so y'all probably weren't following them (tbf I wasn't either, I just witnessed it happen from start to finish), but it was still disheartening.

Anyway, thank you, and sorry to make ya read all of that (if you actually did vahdbs don't blame you if you don't it's a lot of thought dump lmao)💕💕

#zircon answers #anonymous #all this happened like the DAY i got accepted onto the bhc team to and i was like #alright guys am i being kicked out day one lol #like i was expecting the worst from this whole thing #but im still kind of happy with how i worked it out #i really wish more people were like #willing to talk things out rather than just spit in a general direction and hope youll listen #because like even the people i talked to calmly some of them were pretty rude at first! but!#theyre not bad people #they were just scared for their favorite thing #i cant blame them for that and honestly i do consider the hatred justified under the circumstances that they knew #but they were all really nice after we talked things out #and were like 'i hope your series does well' and that really meant a lot honestly #death mention tw//

16 notes · View notes

imagineaworlds · 4 years

Text

I Love You (Part Four) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Descriptions of murder and kidnapping. All around mature content!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 5378

Timeline: Season 2 Episode 09. Right after part three.

A/N: uhhhh... sooooo... this was *supposed* to be the last part for this storyline... but, uh... if I would’ve posted it as one part, it would have been well over 10,000 words... so.. :) Part five is coming.

It was as though nothing had happened in the car ride over as Hotch and I got out and hurried into the St. Louis police precinct that had requested our help on these two cases. Inside, we were greeted by a large lobby made of sandstone colored marble. On either side of the entrance, the two walls were lined with seats for visitors. Nearly half way into the lobby, there were two columns protruding from the wall, and between them was a security checkpoint. They had metal detectors run by two officers. One sat at a desk, the other stood at the detectors for extra monitoring or for pat downs, if necessary.

As we approached the checkpoint, the officer sitting at the desk asked for our identifications. Both Hotch and I pulled out our FBI ID cards and flashed them in front of the man. The officer’s demeanor changed in an instant after he realized who we were. He fixed his posture and forced a smile onto his face before telling us that we were free to enter with our weapons, then turned to the other officer to order him to let us through without any hassle. At the kindness of the officers, we thanked them while putting our badges away.

The metal detectors sounded their alarms as we passed through. Everyone standing in the lobby turned to look at us after the sirens made them jump. Hotch and I didn’t look to them to apologize or to explain what was going on. We just kept walking with the intention of getting what we needed for the investigation before heading back out into the field. Hotch had built this plan in his head that we were going to meet with the lead detective to gather information from him, then we would go to ask Mr. Carroll some questions about his wife’s disappearance. I just so happened to be along for the ride.

Up ahead, there was a man watching us pass through security. He had a badge on his hip and a classified file in his hands. He certainly looked like the guy we needed to speak with, so Hotch approached.

“Agent Hotchner, I take it,” the man said.

Hotch shook the man’s hand, “Correct.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Detective Sheridan. I’m in charge of both of these cases.”

“Thank you for reaching out to us, detective. This is my partner, Agent Greenaway. We’re going to be handling the Mill Creek Killer case. We were hoping to look through some of the evidence your team has collected before we go to talk with Mr. Carroll.”

“Sure thing. Follow me.”

Detective Sheridan led the way into the main office. The precinct was crowded and busy as officers hurried around and civilians tried to navigate their way around to see the officer they were told to meet with. Sheridan, however, moved around with expertise and ease. He knew his way between each of the desks and could guess where people would be walking and when so as to avoid any collision.

“Where is the rest of our team?” I asked. “We were supposed to meet them here.”

“They already left,” Sheridan explained.

“They already left?” Hotch questioned for clarification.

The detective nodded. “Unfortunately, we don’t have much more than the single file we sent to your office when it comes to the Hollow Man case. They took our original copy of the case file and left without another word about where they were going or what they’re doing.”

“Certainly sounds like Gideon. Please tell me you have more for us than just a single file.”

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled.

When we reached the back of the main office, we were standing outside of a glass walled boardroom that had the blinds drawn shut from the inside. The detective pulled a keyring from his pocket and sorted through the identical keys until he found the one he was looking for. After unlocking the door and opening it wide for us, Hotch and I stepped into the boardroom to find the walls covered with crime scene photos, leads, maps, connections, etc. Sitting in the middle of the room was a table covered with boxes of evidence, and stacked on top of them were papers upon papers.

“All this and you only had one file for the other case?” I whispered, only loud enough to Hotch to really hear.

“If you guys need to review any physical evidence from the crime scenes, you’re going to have to check it out from the evidence locker downstairs.”

Hotch nodded an acknowledgement. “Our associate, Dr. Reid, wanted to review the Hollow Man’s original letter.”

Sheridan had the answer prepared before Hotch could finish. “He’s already downstairs.”

“Good.” He turned to me quickly, “Y/N, grab what you think we’ll need to meet with Mr. Carroll and we’ll head out.” He turned back to Detective Sheridan, “Supposedly we’re going to have a car that we can drive around ourselves?”

“Right. I’ll get that sorted for you here. Just give me a moment.” Detective Sheridan patted the door frame before hurrying to his desk.

I approached the table and started sorting through everything. It seemed like someone had just dumped everything in one big pile and didn’t bother to put anything together the way it should have been. It just meant that Spencer would likely have to go through all of it while we were gone. I felt almost bad for him, but I knew that he would speed through it without breaking a sweat.

Hotch closed the boardroom door. “Find the files you want then go change.”

I looked up at him, “You aren’t serious.”

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

I rolled my eyes slightly and looked back down at the folders and loose papers scattered in front of me. “Fine.”

On our way to Tom and Ellen Carroll’s house in the suburbs, I looked over some of the files we decided to bring with us. Anything I found to be noteworthy was immediately relayed to Hotch as he drove. For the most part, we already knew most of what was in the files, especially concerning the disappearance of Ellen Carroll. We knew that Mr. Carroll was likely still trying to cope with the situation he was now finding himself trapped in, and we knew that could possibly mean that he wouldn’t be interested in speaking with us for too long, so we had to prepare our questions ahead of time and make sure that they were precise. Even if the local police had already asked him the questions we prepared, it was important for him to tell us everything he knew personally for a couple of reasons. One, he could have possibly remembered something more important after the fact. Two, his story could change and we might be able to catch him in a lie. Three, being able to hear his answers and watch him as he answered them would allow us to profile him and see if we could gain any more information about the case through his nonverbal responses.

Hotch wanted me to lead the questioning because he felt that a “female touch” would help us connect with him better. He would start by introducing us so as to set the nature of our dynamic, but I would proceed with the questions while he would try to silently build a profile for Mr. Carroll if we needed to.

As we parked on the curb in front of the Carrolls’ house, I took note of where we were in relation to the city. We were in a nice, gated community of large and expensive houses. The Carrolls’ house, specifically, stood out among the others as it was at the end of the road and therefore had the largest floor plan and backyard. The Carrolls must have been disgustingly rich to afford such a place.

But we weren’t the only ones parked in front of the house. Cars lined the curbs on both sides of the road, and they were all parked like they were trying to get as close to the Carrolls’ as possible, which proved that the cars were there for them and no one else.

“Normally, you wouldn’t just throw a party or gathering if your wife is still missing,” Hotch noted aloud. I agreed as we met up on the paved sidewalk and started walking towards the house. When we arrived at the front door, Hotch reached to the left and pressed on the doorbell. Not even a few seconds later, as if we were being expected, the door opened to reveal a disheveled man standing there while trying to press a faux smile onto his face. “Mr. Carroll? I’m S.S.A Hotchner and this is Agent Greenaway.” We showed our badges briefly. “We’re with the FBI. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about your wife’s disappearance?”

The man nodded and opened the door further for us as a gesture that we were allowed to enter his home. Hotch and I bowed our heads slightly in response as we stepped inside. Mr. Carroll closed the door behind us.

“The police keep asking me questions… I figured that I’d be getting a visit from you guys soon,” he explained as he led us through his home. As we followed, we passed the parlor where a large family was gathered together. All wearing black except for Mr. Carroll.

“Mr. Carroll, could you run us through that day for us? We understand that the police have already gone through this with you a couple of times, but we want to get the information from you ourselves so that we can proceed properly.”

“I mean, everything was fairly normal about that day until Ellen was gone. We headed straight from here to the park with Katie at about 11AM. We were playing catch in the park for awhile until she said that she was going to start setting up the picnic lunch we had brought with us. That was the last time I saw her.”

“Did anything seem off about her?” I inquired. “Did she say anything odd? Perhaps she seemed distracted or nervous?”

Mr. Carroll shook his head vigorously, “No, no, no. I mean, we had just been talking about having another kid right before she left for the picnic bench. She seemed ecstatic about the idea and was happy that Katie was alright with it, too. But when she went missing, my first thought was maybe that she got spooked by the idea and needed a moment to herself to think about it. But when she didn’t come back, I knew that something was wrong.”

“You were talking about having another kid while you guys were playing catch at the park?” Hotch clarified.

“That’s right. Why?”

Hotch and I shared a look that meant we both knew what was going on, and then he made a silent gesture for me to explain. As the female looking part of the duo, the news was likely to be taken better if coming from me. At least that was how it always ended working out. “We believe that the man who took your wife is only going after women who seem successful with their careers and their families. It’s possible that the suspect heard you discussing having another child and decided based on that information that your wife was a perfect victim.”

“Did you notice anyone suspicious? He could have looked entirely harmless, but he would have been hanging out nearby for a little too long.”

“No. Nothing. It wasn’t on my mind to look for anyone out of the ordinary. I was just trying to focus on my family. I don’t understand how—”

Just then, as Mr. Carroll was about to ask a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind, the sound of small feet pattering down the staircase echoed above us. We turned to see Katie, the Carrolls’ daughter, coming downstairs with her teddy bear in hand. Mr. Carroll tried to smile again for his daughter as she ran and jumped into his arms. He groaned playfully as he picked her up.

“Well, who’s this?” I asked with a tone an octave higher than I normally used. That’s what you do with kids, right? Talk like you’re one of them so as to make them comfortable and think that you’re their friend. “Are you Katie?” The girl nodded before hiding her face in her father’s shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, Katie. My name’s Y/N.” She stared at me out the corner of her eye while keeping his nose still tucked away. “This man and I are trying to find your mom for you. Can I ask you a few questions about her?” Katie nodded again. “Do you know what happened to her?” She shook her head. “When you guys were at the park yesterday, did you see anyone who looked funny or scary?” She shook her head again. “Do you remember where she went after she said she was going to set up your lunch?” Still no helpful answer.

Katie sat up straight now, though. Her dad turned slightly so that she could look straight at me without having to strain her neck. “When’s my mommy coming home?” she asked me.

My shoulders fell as my heart sank. I hadn’t expected that. I mean, I should have seen it coming, yet I didn’t. It was a valid question, of course, but I was falling short of giving any kind of answer that would suffice in the situation and for my target audience.

Mr. Carroll caught my hesitation and stepped in. As he put Katie back down on her feet, he looked down at her and told her to go play with her cousins in the next room. Katie didn’t think twice before running off as she was told. When he looked back up, Mr. Carroll’s face was red like he was about to cry. “What kind of monster would take away a mother from her child and growing family, Agent Greenaway?”

I swallowed hard to hide my hesitation again. “We’re going to find out, Mr. Carroll.” I looked back at Hotch, but he was staring at the open parlor where Katie was playing with her cousins as the rest of the guests in the room chatted. “What is it?” I whispered to him.

Hotch turned back to Mr. Carroll, “Who’s in the parlor?”

Mr. Carroll’s attention was drawn to that direction to see what caught Hotch’s eye before he answered. “After mine and Ellen’s families found out that she went missing, they all flew out here to help me with Katie as the investigation began.”

“Why are they all wearing black like they just went to a funeral, but not you?”

“The police keep telling me that it’s very likely that my wife is still alive and that I should hold out hope that she’ll come home safely. However, our families don’t seem to share the same hope as I do. They’ve been treating me like a widower since they arrived…” Mr. Carroll finally broke into tears after holding it back since we walked through the front door. He turned away to hide his emotions in shame.

Hotch nodded his head towards the front door, a gesture that it was time for us to take our leave silently. Before we could thank Mr. Carroll for his time, though, he left to be on his own and to make sure that Katie didn’t see him crying. In that case, Hotch and I headed back to the car.

As we stepped out into the fresh air and I closed the door behind us, I told Hotch what I had been thinking about ever since Mr. Carroll told us about the last conversation he had with his wife. I mention the fact that we know more about the Unsubs MO now. He only went after women who were clearly educated, successful, and had families to go home to. All of his victims match that description. And I brought up the fact that the Unsub wouldn’t have to stalk the victims for this information because he’s been grabbing them in public after hearing them talk about it or seeing them do it. That doesn’t require anything more than eavesdropping on private conversations for a few minutes.

Hotch asked how the Unsub could get close enough to the victims beforehand to be sure— like he surely did with Ellen Carroll.

“He blends in somehow. Maybe he brings a dog to the park, throws the toy a little too close to the Carrolls and has to walk over in order to retrieve it.”

“Or he just somehow looks welcoming.”

Regardless, we knew that couples only really discussed having more kids if they both had supporting jobs and a sufficient home to raise a family in— not a starter one like younger couples would have. They needed to have been entirely committed to the idea of expanding their family, and they would only do that if both Mr. and Mrs. Carroll had well paying jobs.

So the Unsub knew that the victim and her family were wealthy and successful, hence he knew that she was well educated. He would have also seen Ellen playing with Katie in the park, making it clear that she had a family to go home to. She made a perfect target and the Unsub likely didn’t even have to watch her for more than an hour. I was sure that once he most likely heard them discussing the prospect of having another child, he knew that he was going to kill Ellen Carroll.

Hotch opened his car door, but he didn’t get in yet. He looked at me over the roof of the car. “If what you’re saying about him not having to stalk them is true, then the Unsub could attack at any time.” I nodded. “So we’re racing against the clock now.”

We both slid into the car simultaneously and Hotch didn’t hesitate to start the car and maneuver us out of the narrow street. Until we could get out of the neighborhood, Hotch had to drive slowly and carefully; but once we would get onto the highway, we could start racing back to the office. It was only a matter how long it would take to navigate the maze of the neighborhood we were in.

I was looking back down at the case files we had brought with us, but my mind was elsewhere. The pain in Mr. Carroll’s voice when reflecting about his wife and the plans they were making for their future together continued to ring in my ears. And the way he broke down in the end was an image I couldn’t shake for the oddest reason. It made me think about Hotch and Jack. I wondered to myself how I would handle Mr. Carroll’s situation if I were in his shoes. What would I tell Jack? How would I tell Jack? How long would I hold onto hope for?

And for it to all come crashing down after him and Mrs. Carroll were excited about taking the next step in their lives… I couldn’t imagine.

“Are you alright?” Hotch spoke up.

I lifted my gaze up from the file in my lap and looked at him. “I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“Have you ever thought about having another kid?” I realized afterwards how I said it and what it insinuated. My voice had fluctuated in the wrong place, an audible sign that I meant something more behind my words. Not meaning to put him in an awkward position where he might feel like I was cornering him, I decided to clarify. “I mean, in general. With anyone. I just feel like it would be really hard in our line of wor—”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Y/N.”

I took a moment to pause and watch him. He was genuinely mad at me for bringing it up. “I’m sorry—”

“We need to stay focused on this case.”

I relaxed into the back of my seat as though I were trying to blend in with the rest of the car. I fucked up. I knew it. I crossed some kind of line, some kind of boundary that I hadn’t foreseen, and it got under his skin. In a whispered tone, I said that I was sorry again before turning to the window to watch as we passed the last few houses in the neighborhood.

Just then, as if saved by the bell, my phone started ringing. I eagerly dug it out of my purse, hoping for some good news or some kind of distraction from the tension building between me and Hotch. One quick glance at the Caller ID and I answered the call by name.

“What’s up, JJ?”

“We just got a call down here at the precinct. They found Ellen Carroll’s body.”

My eyes slowly fell shut as I tried to process the news. That little girl we just saw and promised to help just lost her mother. “Send me the address.”

“That’s the thing, Y/N/N, she was found in the middle of the woods, just like all of the previous victims. I can send you the coordinates, though. You can drive up there and meet us at the crime scene.”

“Alright, thanks, JJ.” She hung up first, so I turned my phone off and stowed it away. “We’ve got a problem.” Hotch raised a brow while still watching the road. “They just found Ellen Carroll’s body. JJ’s sending us the coordinates.”

“Shit,” Hotch sighed, defeated.

My phone buzzed again, this time with a text from JJ, giving us the coordinates to where the body was found. I opened up the map that was tucked away in the glove compartment and marked the location. Hotch peeked over for a short moment to get an idea of where he was going before making a right hand turn onto the main street.

A park ranger was waiting at the head of the trail for us as we got out of the car. The trail parking lot was full with marked and undercover cop cars. Hotch didn’t care, though. He drove straight into the middle of the lot and just decided to park there. The ranger watched us with a look that told me he didn’t much care for suits— and I couldn’t blame him. Rangers were underappreciated and we always had a tendency to step on their toes. They didn’t like us and we didn’t really pay any mind to them. But this guy made sure we knew that he didn’t like us.

Hotch and I hardly stopped as we approached the trail. The park ranger turned before we could introduce ourselves, and he started leading us to where the body was found. About ten minutes down the main path was when we deviated from it. The ranger held an overgrown thornbush back aws Hotch and I stepped into the woods with him.

Another ten minutes deep into the woods and we reached a clearing which was crowded with police officers and coroners. JJ and Spencer were already standing around the body, watching the local coroner as she took pictures of any marks on the skin.

As we stepped into the clearing, JJ noticed us and came to explain everything to Hotch. Meanwhile, I walked past to take a look at the body myself. Mrs. Carroll’s body laid in the epicenter of the clearing, every part of her but her face covered by a mountain of leaves. While I crouched down beside the body, I requested a pair of medical gloves from the coroner. She turned to the bag to her left and pulled out two blue rubber gloves for me. She then began to explain her findings and I put on the gloves.

There was a newbie on the force, apparently, and he was the first on the scene. She explained to me that the newbie didn’t follow protocol and started to investigate the body himself. He uncovered the body and took note of the bruises on her body before Detective Sheridan showed up and stopped him. The way I was seeing Mrs. Carroll now was a recreation of how the newbie remembered finding her. Meaning, it wouldn’t actually be identical. Meaning, any actual positioning of the body that the Mill Creek Killer originally intended was gone, and with it left our potential profile.

I then politely asked if she had a cotton swab. When she asked why, I didn’t respond. I was too caught up in hypothesising about what I had discovered. Once I had the swab, I gently dragged it along Mrs. Carroll’s cold lips to find that wet lipstick stuck to the cotton.

“Hotch!” I called. He excused himself from speaking with JJ, Spencer, and Detective Sheridan. When I had his attention, I looked up at him and showed him what was in my hand. “The lipstick is fresh.”

Hotch looked at the rest of the scene that the Mill Creek Killer set up for us. His eyes were searching in no particular direction, which told me that he was thinking long and hard about what kind of profile we could build off of this. “He covered the body to keep her safe from the elements. She won’t decay as quickly when she’s like this. Why?”

“To come back,” I answered, twisting the swab between my fingers. “Think about it, this guy goes to all this trouble to take a woman in broad daylight and in a public setting, then drags her into the woods to kill her. Yet, she’s laying here like Snow White. Her hair is brushed back, she’s wearing fresh lipstick, and her eyes are still open. He wants to—”

“He wants to spend time alone with her.”

“Detective Sheridan,” I called again. All three of them: JJ, Spencer, and Sheridan came back over to listen. “When you’ve found the other bodies, were they presented like this? Why wasn’t it in any of the files?”

He shook his head, “Because we didn’t know. Every time we’ve found another body, it has already decomposed, for the most part. I don’t understand why it matters. We already knew that the guy is a creep. What’s so special about making the body look nice?”

Spencer stepped forward with the answer, “Because it means that he has a ritual. Every time he kills, he has to defile the bodies or else the whole act feels useless. If he were to just kill these women then dump their bodies somewhere, the itch he feels for murder wouldn’t gain any relief. By preparing the bodies in a way that’s visually appealing to him, he has completed the act entirely and he can feel at peace for a short while before the urge to kill returns.”

“That’s how we’re going to catch him,” I said. I peeled off one of my gloves and reached out for Hotch’s help standing up. “I have a profile for him.” Hotch took my bare hand and pulled me up.

“Already?” JJ questioned.

I nodded and peeled off my other glove. “Detective Sheridan, if you could have all your men gather at the precinct as soon as possible, we’d like to present our suspect’s profile to them.”

He shrugged and nodded, not entirely sure why he was calling everyone together, but knew that he had to do it regardless. Our team moved out of the forest together as the coroner and her team bagged the body for further examination back at their office. Spencer and I led the way, exchanging what information we had.

Before leaving the precinct for the Carroll crime scene, Spencer had been busy working on the Hollow Man case, but he had determined enough to build a profile, too. Granted, the Hollow Man seemed to be easier to profile, despite the fact that they had far less evidence for that case compared to ours.

He then asked me how I figured out the rest of the Mill Creek Killer’s profile while examining Mrs. Carroll’s body. I explained to Spencer in the forest the exact same information that I later told the entire precinct when we arrived back in the city:

Starting from the beginning of his hunt, we began to dissect our Unsub’s behavior and what he would look like. Based on the patterns of how his victims went missing, we knew that he would appear entirely harmless. He could have perhaps been very attractive or been using a pet to give the appearance of innocence while in public.

All of the victims went with him willingly, which meant that he seemed trustworthy. Because he preyed on women who had families, he could also have been operating under the ruse that his child has gone missing and he needs help locating them. Based on outside source scientific research done about the perception of trustworthy people, we could assume that he was in his late twenties to early thirties.

He’d be handsome and extremely charismatic. He wouldn’t be a social outcast and he wouldn’t be in a relationship or job that he didn’t enjoy. It was appropriate to assume that he would have a job where he would get to speak to women a fair amount, which was how he would be comfortable enough to approach them in public and in broad daylight.

I explained to the room full of police officers and detectives as I had to Hotch earlier, that our Unsub didn’t need to hide and stalk his victims. He was quick thinking and would always choose then take them within a few hours of seeing them. He would wait rather than stalk because the thrill was more exciting. He enjoyed the champion feeling of being able to successfully take these women when it should be nearly impossible.

When one of the officers interrupted me to ask how I could possibly know any of this, I simplified profiling by telling him that you can tell a lot about a person just by how they would stand and how they would dress. Even more so if you could hear them speak and see how they act under pressure. Our Unsub knew this information about basic profiling. I had originally assumed that he was acting out just by watching his victims interact with their families, but upon further investigation and discussion with Mr. Carroll, I realized that he was being very particular with who he chose. He could have taken any other woman in that park that day, yet he took the one who was discussing having another kid soon. That meant that he was being very specific and careful with his victims.

His victims always matched the same description: women who were medium height, medium build, pretty by society’s standards, and had dark hair— but he wasn’t specific with either black or brown. Either worked for him. Just so long as it was never blonde.

“Unfortunately, this means we can’t do anything but wait until he takes another victim,” Hotch clarified as he leaned against one of the desks in the back of the room. He had chosen to stay back and let me carry out the profile, and he hadn’t said anything yet until just then. “Our best chance of catching him is to catch him with a body while he’s completing the ritual of displaying the victim.”

With our profile presentation concluded, Morgan and Gideon stepped forward to give theirs. After both profiles had been officially released to the precinct, the team was told to go to the hotel to rest by Hotch and Gideon. None of us argued. It had been a hell of a day and we all looked exhausted. Personally, I knew that I wanted nothing more than a nice warm shower and to finally lay down again. But that wasn’t how it usually worked out, was it. We always said we were going to head to bed, and then we would all be up all night still working on the case. That was just an unspoken part of the job, I supposed.

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @marvelismylifffe @alex--awesome--22 @Qwerty103

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines

43 notes · View notes

kswhateverspace · 3 years

Text

The Ruby and Christina Discord Drama

To my followers who have no idea what this is about, feel free to ignore this if you’d like. This is a long post showing everything that went down with the kicking of 3 members in a discord I’m a member and Admin of. I will share a bit, and then the rest will be under a cut.

Jaye (hernameisjaye/ @reneesgoldsberry) and I didn’t feel it necessary to address the kicks of the server publicly and just thought things would die down and people would move on. That doesn’t seem to be the case and so while I don’t want to give any attention to Krow (grimreich666), the continued attack of Dandybear has made this post necessary. On December 9th, 2020, 1 member was kicked from the discord. Michele (kerozenangel). She was kicked specifically because of this post she made

It was incredibly rude to all the writers in the discord and also @/everyone about it. The removal at this time was specifically to protect the mental well being of the writers who occupied the discord. In addition, for being continually antagonistic in discussions with other members.

Jaye and I are not big on public warnings in regards to someone’s character and the way one thinks. The only thing we correct is off topic discussion and only if it gets out of hand. Behind the scenes we talk a lot if certain members are acting up, and mentally keep track on how many instances are occurring, if behavior seems to be improving etc. You don’t see it, but when issues arise it is discussed, usually in length, and then we decide how to proceed. We also don’t publicly report when a complaint is sent to one of us about a member, but we have been sent them and they are taken into consideration.

On December 11th 2020, 2 members were kicked from the discord. Krow (grimreich666) and RVCBard (eshusplayground)

There is quite a bit to unpack here, but I am first going to address the tumblr post Krow made. I never planned on replying, just letting it go. But Krow continues to antagonize a member (dandybear) of the discord who had NO involvement in her removal from the Discord and it’s time all sides are put out for those who are not aware, or those who don’t have the full story to judge. I will be addressing the youtube video at the very end of this post.

I’m going to address the tumblr post in question in sections.

“So it has come to my attention that we cannot have a civil conversation in the Ruby and Chirstina Fandom. Nearly a month ago I gave up my own small Ruby and Chirstina Discord to join another manged by Kswhateverspace.”

Civil discussions are had all the time, what occurred began as a civil discussion until Krow made it personal by telling Jaye to learn her own black history. That was the reason for the kick. Personal attack. I will post screenshots of the entire encounter at the end. As for managed by me, I am just an admin, and did not start out that way. I offered to help organize the discord and tried to create events to make things a bit easier to navigate and more fun. I originally invited Krow to this discord after seeing people asking for links on tumblr to it.

No one was asked to give up any server, it was simply an open invitation.

“I thought that the community would be a good place to vibe with other members of the Ruby and Chirstina community. At first it was welcoming until I started writing my own Fan Fic for the Ruby and Chirstina ship. It had been users by the name of Dandybear and Agent Sheryl and a few others started to bury the work I posted and they would shade me, barely would I get comments on my work because they would fill the submission page with there personal conversations.Now I’ve written two novels professionally and I am working on a third and out of my 15 years of writing I can safely assess when somebody is trying to blackball or bury someone’s work because there work isn’t meeting up to snuff. And as for me I always supported their work because Christina and Ruby content benefits everyone, now I didn’t get into AO3 for the comments I did it because I love Chrisby.”

This is completely not true. There is a channel I created dedicated to posting work only, exactly to prevent the burying of work. Krow would actually break the rule from time to time of that channel, which is that it’s for links to works only, not discussion of said works. There is a separate channel to discuss. Despite the breaking of the rule, I never actually removed her creator role and instead just let it slide. Also, “Shading” never occurred.

“Yet it was only a week ago that me and a few others we noticed the mean girls clique right away as it consisted of Danybear, Frankie, Kswhateverspace and Agent Sheryl, who had came from my server to join.”

I want to address this on a personal level. I have literally spoken to Krow on a voice call, for 2 hours, with Frankie also in attendance, as well as Agent Sheryl. We had been doing the drop a random pin on the map game and it was a pretty fun time. Prior to this instance, I didn’t have the most favorable view of Krow as she tended to not have a filter when posting and I wasn’t always comfortable by what that was, however, I take my role as admin seriously, and in particular being a white woman in a predominantly black server, I never wished to step on anyone’s toes or out of line. Any worries or concerns I ever had or have, I always defer and clear with Jaye. After this game, I became more comfortable in general with her presence in the discord, but she continued to post fairly unfiltered views that would generally derail a discussion etc. and overall behavior within the discord did not make for a very comfortable place a lot of the time. I say this as myself, and from fellow members at the time of instances. I was at war with myself on this a lot of the time because I was the one who invited Krow, but no one can predict how people will be or mesh.

At this part of the post I will address Krow’s accusation that Dandybear “shaded her”. The screencap Krow uses at the end of her post.

In case it isn’t clear, You is a tv show and not literally @ Krow in case that’s what was thought.

“The egregious abuse of power there Admin and Owner Hernameisjaye is sickening; as her rampage all started on Thursday when Jaye went on a rant saying that Christina was racist. And to me and another black female members acknowledged her opinion but we disagreed with it as we had watched the show several times and understood the premise of the timeline within the Jim Crow Era. Not wanting to fight we had calmly stated our disagreement to her baseless claim and yet she still would not let up even after we have both took the high road as mature adults to leave the conversation.”

I will let screenshots of the entire discussion speak for themselves. I will preface the screenshots with the rules of the discord, which were last edited on December first.

I’ll speak on rule 6 here.

“In the event that we decide to kick/ban a specific user, that individual will receive a message from the admin team notifying them of the final decision.”

At then end of the day, Jaye and I decided to not inform those who were kicked the reason. It wouldn’t have changed the result and in all honesty, we were tired. If an issue wants to be taken up with that, it’s valid. However, no result would’ve been undone.

In most channels on the server, there are pinned messages about what a channel is for as well. This channel was always intended to be a difficult discussion channel, and those that enter are agreeing to engage in difficult discussions as it relates to the show. Krow broke rule 2 by making it personal. You can see the whole chain below. As for RVC, she made it clear she was no longer comfortable in the server and didn’t trust the admins, and decided to turn a situation that didn’t directly involve her to be about her.

After this, RVCBard was kicked. Throughout the life of the discord RVC was consistently combative and antagonistic towards members who’s views or opinions she didn’t agree with. Or if someone disagreed with her. It was an issue that would flare up often, but looked past because we wanted the server to be inclusive even at the detriment to the overall health of the server. We received multiple complaints from different members about RVC with the average complaint being that she made the user uncomfortable due to her approach to different discussions in varying channels. All of the above was taken into consideration that night, and was essentially the final straw.

And despite not being comfortable with approaching mods, she sent me the following after all this went down.

For clarification, I was not present at the time and woke up to multiple messages and had to catch up on my own.

In the past, RVCBard had contacted me with an issue she saw in the server.

I talked it over with Jaye, and it was decided thirsting channels would be created to help address the problem. I show this as an example of good faith that when issues are brought to our attention, we look into it and do something about it if we’re able.

“It wasn’t long ago nearly 48 hours after I lost a family member that was dear to me that this mess ensued, I didnt carry my personal issues into conversation as I enjoy Christina and Ruby as a get away. Yet it is damn near sickening how an Admin can kick someone without warning because your losing an arguement. This isn’t an after-school special and it’s sad that this show that delivers it’s take on Black History and pain cannot be understood even by the simplest of minds, as they are too busy oversexualizing and insulting the Ruby and Chirstina Ship to understand that we see Christina and her flaws as well. I own 2 Discords myself and NEVER would I go out my way to make somebody feel uncomfortable like the way they did me.”

I was offline and asleep for the majority of this night. And this was the reaction to the news of her family member.

While the loss of her family member is tragic, and I sympathize with the loss, it is not a free pass. The kick happened because of hostility and personal attack. With a history of problematic behavior.

I wish to highlight this part from that paragraph

“as they are too busy oversexualizing and insulting the Ruby and Chirstina Ship”

I honestly have no idea who this is supposed to even be at. The entire discord is dedicated to Ruby and Christina. Oversexualizing? Really? Acknowledging Christina’s racism, in whatever form it presented itself in, is in fact seeing Christina and her flaws.

It is at this point I’d like to share the message Krow sent me after her removal and my response.

Now onto the video that was posted Jan 1st, 2021 that has resparked the drama. Which, the video is actually the worst offense done so far. I will address particularly awful points with timestamps that you can reference for yourself. Credit to @femeivor for helping with grabbing timestamps as I’ve stayed up incredibly late writing this all up.

To highlight the targeting that is going on in this video, I would first like to present the controversy surrounding LITTD chapter 5. Dandybear upon receiving valid criticism of her story replied with the following, which Krow decided to piggyback on.

With that shown, let's get onto the video titled “Dear AO3 Fanfic Writers”

1:41 - "there was this whole thing where they couldn't have a mature conversation as adults and decided to kick me and several other group members out for not feeling that way"

- If you’ve made it this far, you know how exaggerated this is.

2:10 - Says a couple of writers from the server are "abyssmal and you know it comes from their fucking area"

- Spoiler alert, at the end of this video she says her discord is a place to not be judged.

6:54 - huge rant about people having Christina be William in their fics even though that's canon compliant

- For this I shall simply copy and paste her own fic’s summary:

- When Ruby get's the chance of a lifetime to change her life working under Tic's strange yet introvert distant cousin Christina, she gets more than she bargained for. As Christina a well known lawyer struggles to free herself from her fathers abusive shadow after the death of her brother William and her elder brother Caleb; she seeks to gain control over the lodge her father has denied her as his only heir. Yet first Christina must clear her father and lodge members names a task that seems all to impossible under the watchful eye of her fathers righthand-man; yet such a task is proving itself to be difficult as she is taken by her new P.A. As Ruby finds out how to read the strange yet alluring Christina, a waiting William comes to make her dreams come true yet are all dreams true; yet she is sucked into into a world of wizards and dangerous turns. Can love come at such a time, or will the half-truths threaten to rip the two apart?

- I will also add here my OWN comment on said story

https://archiveofourown.org/comments/357964615

8:00 - straight up calling out Davenports, just not by name.

8:30 - says it's "disgusting" to have Christina spend a lot of time as William which is, again, canon compliant

11:00 - calls some fanfics "crap" and "torture porn for the soul"

11:14 - "I'm not trying to stifle creativity!"

- *stares into the camera like I’m in the Office *

11:33 - calls out a fic for including attempted rape when she has previously praised a fic that included CSA

11:50 - "you don't really understand these characters, you don't really understand her at all"

- Christina is not given some EPIC backstory in the show and literally no one knows that much about her. Only what we can perceive and deduce. Aka, tons of headcanons from everyone.

13:00 - now telling people what they should be writing instead

13:34 - mockingly calling out Dandybear again, this time with more than one fic

14:10 - once again telling people what they should be writing

14:30 - mocking people for writing smut then says “I don’t caaare - I mean I like that - I love smut….is that it?”

14:55 - "and I notice that some of you guys start out so great in your fics and then it goes down hill!"

- Is this encouragement or stifling creativity?

15:13 - calling out another fic

- I’m tired, are you tired?

15:33 - "Who the fuck writes this shit? Oh my fucking god! Are you guys just dumb? Are you guys stupid?"

16:00 - "Some of you wanna tag and say 'this is a Ruby and Christina Discord server [mocking noises] and if you don't agree with us we're gonna kick you out for no fucking reason!' You know? Shut the fuck up!"

- And if you’re THIS far, you very well know the reason and it definitely wasn’t NONE

16:16 - "you obviously don't know what Ruby and Christina mean to real fucking die hard fans"

- I personally love a classic gatekeep.

17:06 - "But for some of y'all to write these disturbing, disgusting fanfictions"

17:54 - calling writers racist for including racist characters in their fanfics for a show that included a lot of racism.

18:41 - says people are wasting her time because they're writing fics that she doesn't want to read.

18:49 - "This isn't for all fanfic writers. This is only for a couple of 'em. You know who the fuck some of y'all are. And shame on you for even doing this and writing this and trying to fucking push this kind of fanfic and this garbage off."

- If you’re gonna keep beating a dead horse and bringing up drama that you created again and again, start saying people’s names instead of hiding behind blanket statements.

19:07 - "And that's the whole problem why I decided to do Krows Korner. Because I'm so sick of these fandoms and even some of these professional writers running their ass around here, delivering garbage and people being a bunch of sheeple to say that this shit is the greatest shit ever. Honey, it's either you have dyslexia or a reading complex because I'm not really fucking seeing what you thought was so great about this fic."

20:20 - "Join my Discord server if you wanna know the full, TRUE story about what happened at the other Discord server and how these people supposedly claim that they love Ruby and Christina but they support a racist fanfic writer who clearly does not understand about black relations, but lies and decides to be a dick every-damn-where"

- The clearest target at Dandybear herself is in this rant here. Which you can recall above from the screenshots I posted, that when confronted with valid criticism, aims to do better because we all have room for growth. Including racists characters can always be tough because they are uncomfortable characters as they are meant to be, but run the possibility of being too much. However they are not a direct reflection of an author’s view.

20:52 - "If you wanna join a fandom on Discord that doesn't judge you for liking what you like as Ruby and Christina, and even if we disagree, you know, still not have fear of being kicked out because you disagree, come join my shit. It's not even worth the headache, sweetie."

- Interesting take after making a whole video attacking writers/people you hate from your previous discord after you were removed for breaking rules aka personal attack. “doesn't judge you for liking what you like”

21:30 - "I don't care any fucking more. The drama is done, it's settled"

- Considering you have brought this drama up again, after your removal on the 11th of December 2020, I think you might still care.

21:33 - "I figure I would clear a record, basically, to what happened. And, you know, signify the issue that these motherfuckers is crazy. They're crazy as hell."

Everyone at the server had moved on and enjoyed the holidays, but this video has reopened a closed case due to the clear targeting of a writer who happens to be popular. Almost this whole video is an entire disguised attack towards her.

I sincerely hope this clears the air on everything that happened and continues to happen. You have the full story and can judge for yourself whether or not the kicks were justified. If you feel they weren’t, that’s fine and you can now join a new discord server of more like minded people. This continued targeting of Dandybear is unacceptable, and those of you in contact with Krow should not be allowing this to continue. Dandy is a real person like all of us, and if you have a valid criticism of her fic, you can do it in a rational manner. Or stop reading. Like every person ever has done in every fandom ever. Dandybear had no involvement whatsoever with the kicks of the server, they are simply a member and a writer in the fandom and this has gone too far.

If you feel like this server isn't the place for you anymore, I encourage you to find a new place to express yourself in the best way you'd like. We all came here to love Ruby and Christina and have a place to do so in an organized fashion. If you don't like the rules, or consider this place unsafe, I hope you find a community that aligns more with your interests and world view.

#ruby x christina

14 notes · View notes

korgbelmont · 3 years

Text

Newsletter 22/01/21

In the midst of the difficulties and uncertainties happening around the world, we're pressing onward to produce books we hope you'll fall in love with. As we continue to support one another within our studio, we can truly say that your thoughtful feedback has encouraged us during these challenging times. While we can't predict what'll happen next, we hope our 2021 books will provide you an outlet to smile, laugh, and relax during these times...

Book Updates

Without further ado, we wanted to take the time to update you on the various books to expect in the coming year. Hopefully, these will answer your most pressing questions!

With Every Heartbeat

Aching for another heartfelt Choices story? We're releasing this VIP book to all players at the end of the month. (Eagle-eyed fans might notice we've even updated some of the main character hairstyles!) Be sure to follow our official social accounts for more previews...

So It looks like WEH MC will have some new hairstyles, I know for a fact that this book SOOOO good, can’t wait to see peoples reactions to it.

Open Heart, Book 3

This February, make the most of your third year at Edenbrook and reunite with your favorite medical crew in Open Heart, Book 3! Will the heart of Edenbrook remain the same in Leland Bloom's hands?

So it looks like they are setting up the plot to have Bloom as the villain and the gang finding a way to get rid of him whilst keeping Edenbrook open. I am still wary of this book, but will see it through as I do believe it is the final book of the series.

#ChoicesCookbook

Calling all food lovers! Our team is whipping up a new dish of choices in the kitchen. Get your pots and pans ready for this exclusive Choices VIP book! We'd love to see you all participate with recipes of your own... What delectable dish can you make with these ingredients? Let us know using #playchoices and #ChoicesCookbook.

So this is a part of their branching out into new genres, I have no clue what to expect, I will keep an eye on it. and see what it’s like

Laws of Attraction

Bring your A-game to beat out the competition in this brand new title set in one of New York’s premier law firms. With high-profile cases and a hard-driving, mysterious boss, you’ll be in for dramatic days… and steamy nights!

So it looks like we are getting another book that’s potentially gonna be on the more... mature side. I am curious to see how this will play out and what the premise is going to be.

Crimes of Passion

We’re hyped for this book, and although it won’t be out until later this year, we couldn’t resist sharing a little peek at what you can expect from this thrilling, unpredictable, and jaw dropping mystery book.

So I haven’t exactly been quiet about my excitement for this book, and this image gives off some SERIOUS culty vibes. Crimes of Passion is definitely my top book for this year to keep an eye on.

The Nanny Affair, Book 2

Book 2 of The Nanny Affair is in the works and will be releasing later this year. Can't wait to find out what's going to happen next? Here's the latest hint:

"We have a lot of exciting plans in the works for The Nanny Affair, Book 2 (and trust me, the art team is outdoing themselves). We don't want to give away too much, but let's just say, you may not be the only nanny in town this time around..." - Megan

As I said before, I enjoyed book 1 and am looking forward to book 2. I am curious as to how it will all play out, by the sounds of this, maybe Sam gets another Nanny in whilst they and MC work to sort out the fallout from the wedding??

Zombies

We know plenty of you have been dying for a zombie book. (Yes, we see those tweets and messages!) Until now, we were only able to share a zombie emoji… But we can make this official: zombies will be taking over Choices later this year, so stay tuned!

So I’ve been playing a lot of Resident Evil recently, and the creatures on the right give me serious RE vibes. I am now curious as to what the premise of this book will be and how it will all play out.

The Royal Finale

As mentioned in our last Choices Insiders email, the final book of The Royal Romance series will air later this year. Here's a quote from the Book Lead to tide you over until then:

"In The Royal Finale, you'll uncover new secrets, unravel old mysteries, and experience new heights of royalty with your family!" - Olivia

I hope the “unravel old mysteries” is in part, reference to what part Jackson played in Liam’s mother’s second child. And with the whole secret society thing, who knows what’s gonna happen.

Queen B, Book 2

You just can’t get enough of us, can you, newbie? Enjoy that high of being Queen B… Because what goes up, must always come down. - Kisses, the T.

Oooh, we're excited! Writers Chelsa and Maya have sent us this cryptic message:

🤫🙈✉️👑🐝🔥❌🎧🐍💋

What do you think it means?

Emojis and I have a terrible history so I ain’t gonna try and decrypt that (leave a reply if you do). As for the book itself, I am looking forward to it, aside from the forced Kingsley romance, I enjoyed book 1. I looking forward to the mystery element and hopefully seeing Zoey get her proper LI treatment, and hopefully see Veronica & Carter become LIs.

More New Books in the works!

We are continuing to work on more multi-gender books, including Blades of Light & Shadow 2 launching 2022.

More books. Yay (in theory (depends what they are))

News about Other Sequels

Many of you have asked when or if your favorite books would continue. We want to make sure we inform the community with confirmed and finalized details regarding sequels. To explain a little more in depth about how Choices sequels are decided, our Head of Content Max took some time to give us that insight:

After a great deal of consideration and discussion, we have decided that officially these series will not be getting additional books: Most Wanted, Hero, Nightbound, the It Lives series, The Elementalists, Distant Shores, and Ride-or-Die.I know this may be disappointing to hear, and the truth is, we’re always disappointed when we have to make this decision. I’d like to share a little bit of our process to help you understand why this happens.

Whilst it is a shame, it is nice to have clarification, especially with Most Wanted & Hero. I was surprised to see that Ride or Die won’t be getting a sequel, but sometimes these things happen. As for It Lives, Distant Shores, Elementalists, and Nightbound, I knew they wouldn’t get sequels, but it is a bit of a heart punch to see some personal faves get an official status of concluded.

About once a month, I, along with a small group of Pixelberry's senior staff, make the hard decisions about which books will be written next. Deciding whether or not we make a sequel is an evolving process that we've refined over the years. But even today, it remains ever-changing, and it's never simple.

So I don’t really know what to say here, it’s rather self explanatory. So, yeah.

Sometimes, we want to do a sequel but the Lead Writer is no longer available because they’ve moved onto another project or even left the company. We've tried changing Lead Writers in the past, only to watch sequels struggle, losing sight of what made the original great. This is what happened in the case of Ride or Die; we simply don’t have the team now with the passion and vision to give fans the sequel they crave.

I saw a post by @thefirstcourtesan that OH and ROD share a book lead and after what happened to OH2, it is understandable what happens, and sometimes these things will happen. As for ROD, it works as a standalone, and I am okay with there not being a sequel.

Sometimes a book is a critical darling, beloved by both fans and Pixelberry staff... yet the player numbers aren't there to justify doing another one. This is what happened, for example, with Nightbound, Most Wanted and Distant Shores; while these books were beloved by their players, simply not enough players were starting them to begin with. And these are the ones that hurt the most. We genuinely love these books, but if they haven’t found enough of an audience with our players, then it’s very hard to argue for making a sequel. Believe me, I can't think of a single writer on my team who isn't passionate about their book, but ultimately we are one company in an extremely competitive space, and we have to do whatever it takes to keep running well. If a Book costs significantly more to make than it brought in, it’s very difficult to justify a sequel.

Again, I don’t really know what to say here, again it’s rather self explanatory. Given how long it’s been since Most Wanted, it was safe to say BK2 weren’t happening.

Other times, everyone online seems to hate a book, but the numbers disagree. It's hard to believe, but your most loathed book -- the one that you feel no way deserved a sequel -- might actually be the one that's keeping the lights on for us. And without those books (and those players!), half a dozen other beloved titles may never have existed. We're thankful for sequels. They help us fund future books and projects to try new things. If it weren’t for the success of sequels to books like The Royal Romance and America’s Most Eligible, we would never have been able to try a risky experiment like Blades of Light and Shadow.

This comes across a tiny bit boasty, but it is kinda true, their more generally released romance books are why we get the big ones such as Blades, and I know people diamond mine the quicker released books for the big ones. So, yeah, I don’t really know how to say it, sorry.

We love our online fandom, and your passion, creativity, and art. At the same time, the most visible parts of the fandom sometimes represent a smaller percentage of our players, many of whom might have completely different taste. We have a vast varied player base, and our job is to try as hard as we can to create interesting stories for all of them.

Finally, saying no to one book almost always means saying yes to something new. And without new there is no Pixelberry. When we said no to Most Wanted, much of that team went on to write Endless Summer. When we decided to stop making sequels to Rules of Engagement, that team went on to create The Royal Romance.

With every new book we create, I hope against hope that it'll be our next hit, the start of a ten-volume series that fans will love and support! Some of them are. Some of them aren't. Either way, I hope you stick with us. Sequels are great. So are new things, and I hope most of all that your true favorite Choices book is still out there, waiting to be written.

The fandom is going to make up a small section of it and at the end of the day, they are a company, so the numbers are gonna be what counts. And in saying no to a sequel, it means they can go on to experiment with new story ideas.

Looking Forward

Internally we've been working on the representation promises that we made in June 2020. We've implemented some new Black hairstyles into With Every Heartbeat, and will continue to add more new hairstyles in our upcoming books. We plan on posting a representation blog in the coming months to share a full update of our progress.

So I am curious to see how VIP players would react to updates to With Every Heartbeat, but I am glad to see representation being shown and that they are working on it.

Last but not least... We appreciate you <3

We’ve seen a rise in constructive criticism in our social channels and want to personally thank you for all of your honest feedback. We read all of your concerns and continue to evolve our thinking and processes based on your feedback. At the same time we take our responsibility of crafting stories very seriously. Sometimes we disagree with suggestions or due to constraints can’t enable changes we agree with, but we do try to improve over time and learn from your feedback.

We also continue to ask that you communicate with each other respectfully. And keep in mind that just like with other parts of the internet, just because someone posts something doesn’t mean it’s always true. To everyone who helps keep our community a safe place to freely share your thoughts, opinions and love - thank you. Your respect and kindness goes a long way, and we are looking forward to spending more time with all of you in the coming year.

We’re looking forward to a great 2021 with you!

Finally, I’m glad that they’re reading what people are saying, it is understandable that there will be disagreements with suggestions, that’s just life, it’s human nature. I am curious to see what will be released in the coming year and how they will play out.

In summary

I had a feeling that books they said won’t get sequels weren’t, especially Hero and Most Wanted. It is sad to see that It Lives won’t be concluded, and I knew Nightbound & Distant Shores weren’t going to get sequels (unfortunately).

Glad to see them making more multi gender books, hopefully we will get more like Foreign Affairs with the different pro-noun options.

I am curious about Laws of Attraction and very much looking forward to seeing how Crimes of Passion will play out. I will post my thoughts and theories as we get new information

Stay safe everyone :)

#playchoices #thoughts and theories #very long post

10 notes · View notes

mintchocohip · 5 years

Text

sub!bts experiencing subdrop

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 ‒ headcanons for the members experiencing subdrop.

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: member x reader | 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: mature | 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: light angst; fluff

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 ➢ due the nature of drop, all warnings related to depressive feelings apply! any additional 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 can be found with each member.

𝘛𝘈𝘌𝘏𝘠𝘜𝘕𝘎

╴ Drop hits Taehyung on a delay. Giggles and woozy smiles fade into silence as playful aftercare sinks in, and the sparkle in Taehyung’s eyes goes dark.

╴ It’s thankfully rare━sometimes, though, that light goes dark in the middle of a scene. When it does, you’re wrapping play up, and kissing Taehyung’s shoulders softly to show him you aren’t disappointed.

╴ Taehyung doesn’t think much of drop. At first, it took him off guard. Now, he remembers that excitement followed by depression doesn’t make exceptions for the happiness and wholeness he felt during play.

╴ Giving Taehyung special attention to help ease him through a harsh subdrop almost makes him balk. Of course, he wants somebody to watch over him, cuddle him, and treat him carefully―but he wants that any time he’s feeling low; not just when it’s tied to kink. There’s almost a jealousy in Taehyung’s quiet. He’s jealous of himself. Treating that disconnect carefully means giving him the affection he needs, but not overwhelming him with love.

╴ Cuddles, candles, and snacks guide you through a few quiet hours, before it’s time to tuck Taehyung into bed, and trust him with himself.

╴ Taehyung gives his mind, body and soul over to play. Even when you help him segue out of it slowly, the notions of the scene linger. Keeping a word-and-doodle journal in his sub voices helps him slowly sort out his headspace.

╴ Your texts of good morning, good afternoon and good night sit between random lines of poetry and cute videos of animals you send Taehyung. You don’t expect Taehyung to respond to any of it. He has ways of taking care of himself. The gestures are appreciated through Taehyung’s silence. If he needed something, he would be asking for it.

╴ When you’re the one who needs the comfort of knowing how Taehyung feels, asking for a selfie that captures his mood answers your questions.

╴ Occasionally, a notification pops up from Taehyung containing whatever punctuation symbol his finger hit first. It means you’re sending him a promise. You’ll meet up as soon as possible. Even if the two of you just sit in silence at a café, nothing heals Taehyung more than having his silence heard.

𝘠𝘖𝘖𝘕𝘎𝘐

╴ “Can you tell me how it felt for you?” Normally, Yoongi’s short doses of subdrop―a few minutes, at most―are cured by answering his questions.“Uplifting. Intoxicating. That was just what I needed, Yoongi.”

╴ Usually, Yoongi likes to hold on to a sliver of alertness through his subbing. Dropping only clings to Yoongi when he lets himself unmoor into subspace helplessly. If he’s letting himself get lost in it, Yoongi is accepting that inevitability.

╴ There are a handful of things you know Yoongi likes. You stick to that routine, and don’t shake things up.

╴ Words barely get through to him. You walk him through everything you’re doing, nonetheless. “There’s water in this cup. You need to rehydrate.” You hold the straw against Yoongi’s lips, and wait for him to take a drink. His lips are clumsy. “I’m leaving to make us cups of decaf coffee. I’ll be back in two minutes.” You hold two of Yoongi’s fingers.

╴ When you return with something to warm Yoongi up, you help him drink his steaming cup. Yoongi is out of it. He looks drunk, he’s acting hungover, and when he slumps against your side for a nap, he’s drooling.

╴ Staying by Yoongi’s side as he naps is the strong, sturdy foundation of the routine. You don’t leave. If a partner disappears once Yoongi’s dropped, disorientation can lead to regret. At worst, it can lead to panic.

╴ Yoongi needs at least a week of rest. He looks forward to text reminders. Questions like Have you done your laundry since the weekend? or Have you stretched in the last hour? slip into his notifications at regular intervals. If his answer is no, he gets a command. They’re reminders to Yoongi that he needs to take care of himself. At their core, they’re reminders that he’s safe, and loved.

╴ Sometimes, Yoongi appreciates meal plans. Yoongi still goes to work―he still goes about the necessary steps of waking up, bathing, and getting dressed―but beyond those rote motions, he isn’t afraid to ask for help, and he isn’t afraid to ask somebody to provide him with measures of control. If he trusts you enough to make him helpless, Yoongi trusts you enough to take care of him.

╴ Yoongi appreciates your help with occasional dashes of guilt. You push that guilt away.

╴ “We wanted to do that scene for months,” you remind him. “This is the least I can do, to thank you for going through that.” The sentiment comforts Yoongi in the moment. Once he’s feeling a little more connected, though, you bring the statement back up―with clarification. “It’s not just about these highs and lows. It’s not just about what you can provide me as a sub.” Dashes of guilt have become shy smiles. “I’m thankful for everything, Yoongi. I’m thankful for everything you are.”

𝘑𝘜𝘕𝘎𝘒𝘖𝘖𝘒

╴ Intense painplay, degradation, dehumanization, or deep dives into baby boy headspace are guaranteed to knock Jungkook over into a long, flat drop.

╴ “It won’t hurt anymore. It’s over. Good boy.” You let him know how amazed you are. “You did so good.” A soft blanket wraps around the parts of Jungkook’s body that aren’t tender. Fuzzy slippers slot onto his feet. You hold Jungkook’s shaking hand, until his eyes dry up.

╴ Long, complete aftercare slows the worst swirls of loneliness, regret and discomfort. When Jungkook cuddles between your legs and you turn on a quiet gameplay playlist or a favorite sequence of breezy movies on his laptop, noise-cancelling headphones over his ears connected to earbuds in yours mean you’re both working through drops―but if Jungkook makes a noise, you’re alert, and ready to listen. By the time you’re soothing a shaving brush over his forehead and throat, Jungkook is falling asleep cradled against you.

╴ Jungkook is a good actor. He doesn’t want you to feel like your efforts during aftercare aren’t enough. Habits of holing up in a dark room, not answering messages, sleeping during the day and spending all night on his computer aren’t unusual. He tells you not to worry. He likes to work his way through days of subdrop by doing his favorite things, and that works best for him.

╴ When Jungkook calls you up one night and says “I need…”―the monotone way he’s pushing out the words is disconcerting. You arrive at his apartment with questions. Your mind is open, and the kit of play and aftercare tools in your backpack is ready for whatever Jungkook asks. The second you walk through the door, you’re wrapping Jungkook’s delayed shivers up in your arms.

╴ Scheduling dates with Jungkook in the days following something deep, dark, or just exhaustive becomes a necessity. It’s over. It’s really over, and there’s nothing he can do to change that. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t need you.

╴ The dates erase time between your moments. Jungkook’s feelings are acknowledged, and protected. He’s sitting between your legs again, and you’re holding his hand. “I need to show you again.” When he whispers those words, you give Jungkook’s hand a squeeze. He needs your voice. “Later. For now, it’s time to rest.”

𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘖𝘒

╴ “It’s like post-concert depression.” Sprawled out on the bed, Hoseok is mumbling. “The experience was so stunning, everything after it just feels like shit.”

╴ Hoseok has to force himself not to associate subdrop with proof that a session was worth his time. He has to force himself not to seek out harsher and harsher subdrop as a sign that his journey into subspace did something right.

╴ Managing Hoseok’s adrenaline rushes is a slow learning process. Your first lesson is simple: the element of surprise gets him far too high. Even if you try to come down from it gently, Hoseok drops like a stone.

╴ If he drops during a scene, Hoseok becomes listless. He gets itchy all over, and his body twitches with the shivering unease of being too out of it to scratch. “You didn’t have to stop. It’s fine,” Hoseok says, “I don’t mind.” You keep track of Hoseok’s limits, and formulate your own boundaries. Your response is flat. “It might be fine for you. But it’s not fine for me.”

╴ Hoseok isn’t shy about the way rises and dips in hormones affect him. He asks for help with the silence of expectation.

╴ He won’t ask for help with words, because he knows he’ll be taken care of. He thinks of it as your job. If a partner doesn’t provide at least a little perfunctory aftercare, Hoseok’s judgement bottles up deep. Resentment builds.

╴ Usually, a few hours of pampering with gentle pets, letting Hoseok eat you out lazily, easily earned orgasms, and a bowl of dark chocolate chunks served with a hot cup of honey-and-lemon infused tea is enough.

╴ Hoseok doesn’t make himself that vulnerable unless he knows he can take care of himself once aftercare has worked its magic. He has a personal checklist of activities, stuffed toys, songs and friends that always make him happy.

╴ Trusting Hoseok means trusting his smile. The charm is infectious. When he starts smiling again, it means he’s content. It means your work here is done.

𝘑𝘐𝘔𝘐𝘕

╴ Play doesn’t leave much of an imprint on Jimin, once it’s over. Aftercare is easy, sweet, and fluffy. There’s a playlist of videos on his phone that always makes Jimin laugh, and kisses all over that flutter him into sleep. He might be a little needy, but it’s a neediness Jimin embraces happily.

╴ Jimin knows his limits, and he likes to play within them. If a planned session teeters Jimin towards that drop, he lets you know. He understands his levels of physical and emotional tolerance. When he warns you it’s coming, you know you’re in for a long, stressful, night.

╴ “Let’s do that again.” He asks for more, when it’s clear he’s had enough. “This bruise―you made it dark enough, didn’t you?” Hands are asking the questions as much as Jimin’s hoarse whisper, and distant eyes. Jimin’s questions grow needier, and needier. This neediness is different. It’s pained. “Don’t you want more, too? I can see it in your eyes. You want more.”

╴ Knowledge that he should stop wavers Jimin’s attempts at brattiness. Utter delight has been replaced by implacable feelings of emptiness, and frustration.

╴ Jimin becomes wistful, romantic, and dramatic. He’s trying to fill the void left in his soul with something. Once, you thought wrapping Jimin up in a parka and sunglasses to burn off some exhausted energy on the streets was a good idea. It wasn’t. The PDA nightmare that followed made you want to apologize to every unfortunate stranger who had to witness it.

╴ Suddenly, Jimin wants to be alone. You stay. If he’s alone, Jimin will start doing things he regrets the next morning. Subdrop texts are far worse than drunk texts.

╴ If he really tries―really, really tries―Jimin can fight it on his own. There’s no greater relief than knowing he doesn’t have to.

╴ You wait out the mood swings. In an hour or so, they’ll pop. When they do, Jimin disconnects into numbness. A body pillow to hug and soft words of love give him something to wrap around.

╴ Retail therapy with a cause has instantaneous benefits. When Jimin is numb, he wants to feel useful. He’s browsing through charities, and the donation pages of creators he supports. You’re making sure he stays within the predetermined limit he set aside for himself. Feeling like he’s involved in doing something right, and good―it distracts Jimin’s numbness with swells of love.

╴ After a night of rest, you’ll wake up in the morning to find nothing but that love. Clingy demands to pay attention to that love are given the respect they deserve. Careful attention goes both ways, and mixes well with Jimin’s vows to himself. When he asks for more, Jimin’s healing laughter lights up your soul.

𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘑𝘖𝘖𝘕 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘢

╴ Subdrop infuses Namjoon’s physicality. He shivers. He goes weak. His hands shake, his limbs are weightless, and he trudges through every movement in slow motion.

╴ He tries to pick himself back up, and put himself back together. He tries to sort through his mind, and be attentive and self-possessed for you.

╴ Guiding Namjoon through his actions and helping him into the warm bath with you means he’s fighting himself, and trying to nod along, give you a few words, or ask you questions when all you’re giving him is hushes. The fog in his mind is clipping every word on his lips, and spilling out non-sequiturs.

╴ A chatter of his teeth fades, as Namjoon warms up. After you’ve dried him off and made sure his litre bottle of warm water has been sipped at least a quarter way down, you help Namjoon change into a bathrobe, and crawl into bed.

╴ You sleep over at his place for the night. He clings to you. Whenever you wake up, Namjoon’s arm is wrapped over you, or his hand is on your wrist.

╴ The first time you slept over at Namjoon’s place, he woke up before you, and tried to fry up something to eat. The burn took weeks to heal. His drop is uncoordinated, and forgetful. Accepting that he has to show his appreciation through means other than romantic gestures is painful in every sense. You set an alarm, prepare Namjoon an easy breakfast, and hold his hand over the table through quiet conversation about the night.

╴ The first time you wake up to an outpouring of texts from Namjoon at 4 A.M. ━I love you. I really appreciate you. Please don’t ever think I take you for granted. Please don’t take me for granted. These moments are so important. The emptiness between them will be closed, soon enough.━you're out the door in minutes.

╴ “It’s not that bad,” Namjoon mutters, more to himself, than to you. “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.” He glances at the hot water you’re boiling for tea, and the decongestants you rattled out of your medicine cabinet for his runny nose. “You can go home. I’ll be fine.” Letting Namjoon know there’s nowhere you’d rather be than here, taking care of him━It leads to more emotion than you were prepared for.

╴ “These paranoid thoughts… normally, for the sake of sleep, I can force myself to go nihilistic. I can tell myself it doesn’t matter. But I can’t. At night. When I try to sleep. My chest is thumping, but I feel like my soul is spinning above my body, and…” Namjoon glances up at you. You nod. “The fear, and the regret. Regret for the past. Regret for the future. The world is always dangerous. The world is always in chaos. So why does it matter tonight, more than any other night?” Two cups of tea settle on the table, and you sit down to listen.

𝘚𝘌𝘖𝘒𝘑𝘐𝘕 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱/𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 & 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱; 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘢

╴ Topdrop can take you in the middle of a scene. When the thrill Seokjin gives you is too much; when you’ve come, or just gotten so high that you can’t stop the come down━taking care of Seokjin becomes a matter of duty. Ideas that you can make yourself feel something again by going harder on him have to be balled up, and tossed aside.

╴ Seokjin jumps at everything. You give him a few minutes to realize he’s safe. Fearplay has wound him up into a raw, animalistic vulnerability. Those minutes of his eyes adjusting to the light fade back into darkness. A blindfold slips over his eyes, and the warm, weighted blanket draping over his back helps with the shakes. Their presences relax him enough to get food down. Loose limbs mean he’s staying where you guided him down on the floor.

╴ Seokjin is starved, but very few things taste good. He waits patiently for noodles or tiny bites of barbecued pork that hit just right to drift over his lips. The soft touches you’re trailing over the back of his neck satisfy your possessive instincts. It’s a slow reminder to yourself. At some point, you need to let him go.

╴ Sleep drags you down with deep dreams, and wakes you up in the late afternoon. A quiet day of cuddling Seokjin fades back into exhaustion, and another bout of sleep finds you blurring into another afternoon.

╴ You take care of each other. The exertion of stripping away the world and melting into paradise was temporary, and emotions dug up are given room to breathe. Openness, and power━hurt, and healing. Confinement, and freedom.

╴ Seokjin can’t tense his muscles enough to open a can. It’s impossible to speak. He snaps easily, and he apologizes quickly━and you don’t care. Ignoring his temperament, you help him prepare a picnic basket. He doesn’t want to go. You don’t want to go, either.

╴ Seokjin knows what’s good for him. You know what’s good for you. The benefits of the outdoors and sunshine are inarguable. At first, the two of you tried a city park. Loud noises and passing bicycles made Seokjin tense up, until leaving the park was a miserable, time-stretching trudge of not being able to do more than hold Seokjin’s arm, and help him look more put together than he was.

╴ A secluded trail is the perfect fix. Cloud watching, tearing up grass, fighting off insects for Seokjin, and decorating each other with wildflowers and sticks passes the time. In a few hours, you forget why you ever wanted to stay home. The mood always follows. When it does, rolling together for a little heavy petting under the sunset is a fine reward for responsibility.

#sub!bts #domme!reader #member x reader #ot7 post #sub!taehyung #sub!yoongi #sub!jungkook #sub!hoseok #sub!jimin #sub!namjoon #sub!seokjin #mch #headcanon

220 notes · View notes

prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Revenge on a University Teacher

Hello Reddit, I would like to start off with this is my first ever Reddit post, so accept my apologies for poor grammar, or if any etiquette is broken unknowingly. I was reliving this to a few friends who pointed me here to tell this tale. Of course names are changed for privacy reasons etc. If any YouTube videos are made of this story please link them as I love watching Reddit YouTube content. With that out of the way lets begin.

I graduated university a few years ago and this story comes from my first year from my degree. I was in a Business degree course having enjoyed studies of Business in school and enjoying researching business related topics in my own time. Before I go further I should disclaim I am Autistic, this will be important later. It also explains why what I consider an interest in business for me, may be considered an obsession by others. I am considered high functioning, whilst I occasionally struggle in social situations, it mainly comes off as me being rather blunt.

So for the degree we had several classes, every class makes up a portion of the overall grade etc. In the first year we had no choice in regards of classes, the majority of the classes were really fun and engaging. My teachers were very supportive to me and my classmates were too. I felt I belonged at university, whereas I hated school with a passion. At university I could study and argue points beyond a linear construct of a syllabus. Basically I am trying to say so long as you could prove your argument with academic credibility, you could make it and that debates were fruitful. I also had good relationships with my support worker who is there to aid disabled students and my personal teacher, someone every student is assigned who is head of a specific degree/discipline.

One class however was horrid. On the first day of class the teacher, who we will refer to as Mrs. B came into the class and we all had out or laptops or notebooks. She began scrawling what I could only describe as hieroglyphics on a whiteboard. It looked like algebra, only worse. I have never been good at Mathematics, breaking the age old, Autistic=good at math stereotype. I was just typing notes blindly trying to write everything down but it made no sense to me. At the end of the class I introduced myself and explained I had a learning disability and that i might need some help going forward. She seemed dismissive saying "Its okay this stuff is easy you would have learn't in high school" and then abruptly left.

A few weeks past and I was taking down all the notes and still not understanding it. I logged onto the student portal website. It was there all our content was hosted e.g. assignment briefs, reading lists, points of contact etc. I was confused to find her class was the only one with nothing in the reading list. Every other class had several textbooks, journals and other sources students could go to for extra information/clarification.

After a class one day I went to Mrs. B and asked if there was any reading material e.g. textbooks I could read so I could try to understand said theory as there was nothing on the student portal website. She said in a very confident manor "As I said to you before, this is high school level stuff, anyone would be able to do this, simple work". I explained I struggled at math in school and that as a older/mature student my school days were almost a decade ago. She shrugged and left the classroom, and I was feeling very frustrated.

In any other classes if I didn't understand something from a lecture, I could look it up in the textbooks, online etc. to get a different perspective. If I still didn't quite understand I could go to a teacher and ask. They were happy to help me as they could see I had attempted to understand said theory.

During one of the classes I raised a hand and asked a question about a value of a letter 'X' as I didn't understand a certain equation. Mrs B looked at me smirking saying it was "simple" and asked if anyone else in the class was confused. No one else raised a hand or spoke so she continued. At the end of class I went to lots of classmates asking for their help. They confided in me that they also didn't understand that class, but were afraid to speak out.

This carried on for a month or so with me asking for help, writing the notes blindly etc. until we were given our first official assignment. What I did work wise I was not proud of, however in my defense with not understanding the content I was just trying to cobble something together.

I would email Mrs B asking to clarify bits, ask for help, my emails would be read (read receipt) but not replied to. I asked her about office hours, to which she replied "I don't do that". For context office hours are time where teachers allow students to come to them with anything e.g. academic problems, questions, career options etc. All teachers offered them...just not her.

I tried to hand in the work online. Our university has a policy all work must be submitted online for cheat detection software and many other reasons. Mrs B told us she would only accept paper versions and that the online portal was not to be used. When myself and other students questioned her she needed to see the work and its true potential and left it at that. So we complied, printed and handed into Mrs B on time.

A few weeks later in class she calls out students to collect their assignment papers, with grades. The thing is she reads them out not by name, but by grade order. We were all shocked. It meant the sooner your name was called out the higher your grade, and the longer you waited, the lower your grade would be. I waited and waited until I was called forward. I was very anxious and went back to my seat, I tuned out of the class and read over the paper. I had just scored a pass mark, but I was pissed off. Mrs Be had written comments such as "shows no understanding of the content", "no efforts made", "poor aptitude of the relevant theories". At this point I was shaking with anger. I marched out the class she asked "where are you going?" I didn't say anything, I didn't stop. I knew if I did I would have got angry.

I immediately went to see my personal teacher and support worker, it took them a long time to calm me down and said they would look into matters. After that I went to speak to classmates who were read out before me asking if they could explain the theory. All of them explained they had no idea how they even passed, let alone get a high grade. Keep a side note of this.

A week later Mrs B comes into class looking agitated proclaiming a reading list of a single textbook was available on student portal much to the relief of other students. She also exclaimed she would now offer office hours for students with the same level as enthusiasm as someone would have for watching paint dry.

Unfortunately the book was not in our university library and we would have to buy it ourselves, which all students know, textbooks new are very pricey. I bought the book, but it made little difference with my lack of understanding. I spoke to classmates who did the same, they too didn't understand it, it felt like the book and the class were completely different.

The office hours were another thing, I asked when I could see her, she informed me her next available spot was in three months time. I asked a classmate to ask her, she told him she could see him that afternoon, another classmate was told it was a four month wait. Something was a miss.

She also exclaimed some students were struggling with "basic high school math" and she would put some basic math on student portal website. The problem was she photocopied them from a book, the pictures were bury so even if they did have useful content, they were illegible.

Shortly after this we had an exam on the subject, again I was worried I had no idea what to expect. I was in a different exam room to the other students as I get support in exam conditions as I struggle with some aspects of reading (I am also mildly dyslexic) so get a reader support worker. Part way through the test Mrs B comes in and asks if I am okay. I was a bit shocked, I never had teachers in a exam before. But maybe this is how they do tests at university? I stated honestly I understood nothing despite buying the textbook, despite coming to see her, despite seeing my support worker and despite consulting with my classmates. Mrs B then proceeds to tell me the answers. Stunned I say "what". She orders me to write, I look over to the support worker who's jaw has dropped. Mrs B leaves and the support worker stops me and says "I have to report this" I acknowledge and the test is stopped. Afterwards I speak to other students. Other students with special needs she came and told the answers to, but not to other students. I was very concerned and confused and unsure what this meant for my grade.

Months passed again of the same old, I would furiously take down notes blindly, my classmates and I in a state of despair. However, one day I asked another question in class and Mrs B in a very snarky tone said something along the lines of "your the only student who doesn't get this simple equation" she looks out to the rest of the class stating "everyone else gets it". Slowly, one other student says "I don't" then another, and another. I was reminded of the famous 'I am Spartacus' bit. She looked mad as 28 students of a 30 student class raised their hands and objected, saying they didn't get it. Mrs B looking pissed stopped the lecture stating we couldn't behave so she wouldn't teach and left.

A few weeks later Mrs B gave us what would be our final assignment for the class. She explained we had to write a report on a choice of reports as to how they use, whatever algebraic theory we were meant to understand and we had to do this in groups. In the assignment brief we were meant to write the report on the report but we weren't allowed to cite the original report. We asked Mrs B for clarification. She explained it was "academically lazy" to cite any of the reports directly and that instead we had to find the original citation from the report and cite that. Making it a lot more work. We spent the next week just panicking, the reports were so confusing, there was no 'easy' one to chose from.

All of this bubbled up, in all my other classes I was achieving high grades like 80% / 90% average, despite this, this class so far I was barely passing at 40%. The whole thing lead to a very bad mental health crisis, I won't get dark here. It lead to intervention from local government mental health services.

After this myself and classmates arranged a meeting with high ups at the school to discuss our issues. Up till now we had done all informal process of talking to the tutor, reading the textbook and this new assignment was very, very hard.

At this meeting, they asked why we wanted to see them. We explained it was about the class as a whole and the second assignment. They looked confused citing there was no second assignment. We gave them the brief. These higher academics, professors etc eyes widened. They told us there was to be one assignment and one exam. They asked to see the reports we were to analyse. One of the professors mouths dropped, the suspense and silence was palpable. They explained to us the reports we were to analyse would be set for masters degree or PHD students, and that 1st year undergraduates were not expected to meet this level of work. They told us to cease the work immediately. They told us to put together a formal complaint and showed us the paperwork (single A4 sheet) to submit.

Moments after leaving the meeting a email went out to the whole year group from one of these professors citing work on that assignment was to stop immediately. Mrs B replied all stating students could still do it for extra credit. The professor replied to all students stating that was false, and that she needed to meet him immediately. To any other student they must have thought what the hell was going on, to me though I was just singing internally, but I was not done.

The complaint, I went to homework on. I filled in all my academic notes, all the emails I ever sent her in this report. I went to classmates for witness testimonials for what she did in class. I approached and got a statement from my exam support worker, and a copy of some classmates exams who got a high grades. Reading the tests I noticed we had similar answers to my work and that of other students. The grading was sporadic and random to be polite.

For example one of the answers to a question was 4X. I wrote 4X and got 1 point, my classmate wrote 4X and they scored 3 points.

I then discovered something very interesting.

When searching her name online, I found she was being paid by our university to do research into methods of using mathematics to make relative decision processes in a business environment. I decided to look into some of the aspects of that particular research grant and noticed they were very, VERY similar to the work she had assigned us in our unapproved assignment 2. With this I added this into my complaint report and decided to copy into my report the contact details of the funding bodies included (mainly European Union grant sources due to my country) which included what repercussions would come about if funds were used improperly.

Over a week I collated my masterpiece, what should have been at most a 3 page report was now a fully bound 120 page complaint report with an appendix, contents etc. in full academic report style.

I had some friends in a law degree go over it and advised me to seek compensation of some sort due to my mental health crisis as a result of Mrs B. So I enclosed my request for some gesture of good will to be made by the university, I was not specific as although I was high on the adrenaline of getting back at Mrs B, I was still battling with newly diagnosed depression (thanks Mrs B). I submitted it, having it bound specially for the occasion.

Two weeks later all classes with her were cancelled. Not just for our classes, but University wide.

It turned out she broke a lot of academic rules. Mrs B had forged exam results, bullied an international student (or as I thought, was being racist) and many other things.

It was revealed she was using students to aid her in research she was being paid to conduct, which was the nail in her coffin. In other words, she was being paid to do research, and passing said work onto her students, without disclosure, consent, compensation (as she was being paid to do it) etc. It was a massive no no in not only our student body but other teachers as well.

She was dismissed/fired with all professional accreditation lost. In other words, no way of coming back to the field of teaching/academia.

All students got a automatic pass and a portion of our student loans repaid as compensation.

We lost many battles, but we won the war.

I still battle with the depression to this day, but I graduated with first class honors. So I guess I wasn't that stupid after all. I am fine now, happily in a great job, with a great wife and kids.

(source) story by (/u/SWBuilder12)

#prorevenge #by /u/SWBuilder12 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

298 notes · View notes

infinitum-imaginaerum · 6 years

Text

UMBRA | LUCAS

Bodyguard!AU | Mini-Series

Words | 2,700+

Language, mature themes, mentions of death, illegality; we’ll see where else this goes

I | II

Holed up in your room was where you spent most of your time these days. With the dark halls of marble flooring and Victorian architecture accentuating every sound ever made in the house you were forced to live in, it was hardly a good idea to be wandering around, especially since the next to silent padding of your feet was about the loudest noise on the face of the planet in the middle of the night.

It was an interesting lifestyle you had to live considering you were essentially the target for any potential blackmail or ransom, the type of exposure your family couldn’t risk. Your mother had feared so much for your safety, she often argued with your father about it—booming through the aforementioned halls when your father insisted that you had to live your own life, with her retorting that she wasn’t going to lose you because of his past. Karma was a bitch, and because of your father’s rather nefarious and disillusioned lifestyle when he first met your mother, you were trapped in his luxurious quarters potentially until his death.

After a couple of failed attempts to run away—much to your chagrin, but owed to your father’s assistance—you were essentially under twenty four hour surveillance. The extravagance of your father’s home allowed for the Umbra to be live in assistants.

The Umbra…there was a high turnover when it came to them thanks to your mother. Your parents met on a job, your father participating in undisclosed gang-esque related ordeals, your mother the hired protection. She was highly experienced in the field of assassination, a bounty hunter per se. She taught you everything you needed to know about growing up in this type of household, the types of people you’d no doubt come inadvertently into contact with because of their reputation and she wanted to you be prepared.

But perhaps she prepared you a little too much.

Back to the Umbra. You often gave them the slip, your hiding and escape skills far superior to most of the men your father hired which proved to truly irritate both of them.

That’s the argument you had the misfortune to overhear. They were down the hall just a little way from your room in the master bedroom, the door closed but it didn't matter. The argument was loud enough to let the residence in on the particularly convoluted situation.

“It’s the fourth time this week she’s gotten out of this house! What type of guys are you hiring, because they all seem quite incompetent to me! How hard can it be to keep tabs on a little girl!” Your mother’s voice boomed down the hall and permeated through your door, the shrillness of her voice able to penetrate your earbuds.

You raised an eyebrow, removing a bud from your ear to change your motive from overhearing to eavesdropping.

“At some point you have to come to accept that she’s top tier in the department of mischief and getting away with it with a mother like you.” Your father seemed to be taunting your mother, laughing off his previous statement and you could only imagine the enraged look on your mother’s face as she stared down the man she married.

Your parent’s marriage had been on the outs lately because of you. You couldn’t spend your whole life cooped up in their house—it became quickly apparent just how necessary it still was when you unintentionally got an Umbra killed in the line of duty, trying to protect you from the vengeful outside world. It was at that point that your mother realized your father had continued with his risky business.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault her life is in danger? Maybe if you hadn’t led such a flowing blood trail, they wouldn’t know that you even had a daughter in the first place!”

You winced at the unceremonious sounds of glass smashing around on the marble floor. He was a whiskey sipper and it didn’t take long anymore for your father to become a complete fool and get a little aggressive with your mother. You didn’t have to guess what the sound was—you father had intentionally chucked his glass to the floor to make a point—and silence ensued. Your mother was used to this by now; divorce was just around the corner.

“You are the one who taught her how to protect herself—she’ll use it on anyone she deems threatening,” he slurred, successfully ticking his wife off even more than she already was.

“You’d think men who are trained to deal with this type of thing would be able to handle it. She’s just a little girl.”

“You keep saying that but she’s of age now. Do you remember where you were at when you were twenty one? You had fifty kills under your belt,” his punitive voice reminded her, dripping with venom though a little slurred.

“You will always find a way to turn this on me.”

“So what do you suggest then, all-seeing-eye?”

Another unceremonious smashing of glasses jerked you under your covers. It was already so late at night and you had been trying to sleep, relaxing to the placid music in your ears, the moonlight trickling through your blinds just enough to illuminate the room to realize every detail of it as you glowered at nothing in particular.

The silence continued, which was a little disconcerting. Your father asked a question, and he mostly demanded answers so when no reply came, you ripped the covers away from your body and tossed your headphones to the side and touched your feet to the soft shag rug covering the chilled marble flooring of your room.

It took only a moment for your feet to slide into the slippers you left next to your bed and head out the door of your bedroom. The Umbra posted outside your door turned, concernedly, to give you a look and reached his arm out to block you from advancing, but you shoved it out of the way, almost completely disregarding him. You shuffled down the hall to the Dutch doors of your parents’ bedroom, having every intention of throwing them open to ask what could possibly be so pressing and heated to be breaking glass, but you were stopped when another hand grabbed your arm.

“Step off,” you growled, turning your widened eyes to the man stopping your attempts. He was suit clad, as all of them were. The sheer determination in your eye to interrupt their little conference was nearly dreadful.

“I’m ordered to keep you out of the room,” he tried, voice firm but intention unsure.

“I’m ordering you to take a fucking hike,” you snapped back, “This is entirely my business—it’s not as if I couldn’t hear the whole conversation from my bedroom.”

He released your arm, a man whose name was entirely unknown to you as the turnover of these men was so great, you could hardly keep their names straight before they were replaced by new employees.

Your attention shifted back to the Dutch doors, not even bothering to turn the handle as you heaved the center crease, propelling both doors open and shake the walls upon impact, disturbing the wall adornments in the near vicinity.

Two sets of eyes were immediately on you as you scanned the luxurious master bedroom before landing on the culprits of your disturbance. The man who previously tried to stop you stood tall and presented, waiting to speak once spoken to, but your parents had other ideas.

Glossy eyes fell unto them, waiting for an explanation once you checked that everyone was in one piece, that there were no mishaps like you initially suspected. Glass scattered the floor, expensive whiskey trickling in this direction and that, your father sitting and your mother standing, enough distance between them.

They both looked at you, waiting for you to say something, so you took it upon yourself to open the conversation.

“What the fuck is so important that you must discuss so stridently past midnight?”

Your mother approached you, reaching out a hand to perhaps offer some solace from the hostility she knew you’d overheard, but you clouted it away.

“I mean, I know what you’re discussing, but does it have to be done so noisily and, I don’t know, so inconveniently?” you inquired, disregarding your mother’s proximity and focused a majority of your attention and the entirety of your gaze on your temperately toasted father.

“Your father and I were discussing his inability to hire anyone even abstemiously qualified to keep watch of you while we sort out his retirement.”

She used the term retirement very loosely. It really was just to cover up the fact that while your mother had been kept in the dark, your father couldn’t let go of his old life and continued to indulge in pilfering everything from money to fine art, cars to properties—whether that involved violent ends or not was not your business, but seemed to be a bastardized clarification of why it was your problem.

Despite all of that, your father was a successful businessman, legally. He used gargantuan proportions of his wealth for charity purposes and auctioneering. If that was to cleanse his wrongdoings in some sick and twisted way, that was his shtick; at any rate, it caused a lot of elegant and, for lack of better words, superfluous gatherings at your estate. You called it superfluous, because it was really just a gaudy attempt to prove your father’s status in the community—and what better way to do so than throw extravagant cocktail parties—since he’d been questioned by other members of the community of his authenticity. But who really needed authenticity when it was all about charity in the first place.

Amongst the vast amounts of people who attended these events, which were typically celebrations for winning a high bid or for receiving a letter of recognition for contributions, there could be anyone looking to end your father, or, perhaps, yourself. That was where the Umbra came in.

“If you honestly expect me to be under twenty four hour surveillance by a man twice my age and me be quite unprotestingly accepting of it, I think the both of you need to reevaluate. I want nothing more than to remove myself from these slime balls. It’s disgusting to be so objectified by middle-aged men.”

Silence fell over your little family, the realization of your discontentment with the Umbra finally washing over the face of your mother. You’d leave it to them to figure out, “Clean this up, and try to actually let the residence of this house, including myself, get some sleep.”

You dismissed yourself, spinning on the polished floor to head back to your room. The shuffles among the silence seemed to be deafening, only drowned by the clopping of black dress shoes as those on duty returned to their assigned posts.

Pithily, you slammed your room door and crawled back into bed, hardly having the mind to remove your slippers, pleased when they removed themselves, descending to the floor at their own volition. The covers had been half-tucked over your body, face down in the pillows and forcefully shut your eyes in otiose attempts to sleep.

Days passed and for once the quarrelling ceased. It was the first time in a while that you’d approached them in such a manner. It was disrespectful, sure, but it appeared to be the only avenue by which you could get both of them to listen at the same time.

There was muttering amongst many of the house staff about a new young hire, information attempting to be hidden from you, as they all knew how much you just adored new Umbra hires. It must have been the reason your mother called for your appearance in the foyer in the first place. She could hear you coming down the hall, the almost silent clops of suede peep-toe wedges making your presence known.

“This is my gorgeous daughter, your assignment.” Your mother was in the middle of a sentence when you’d finally made it within ear shot. You knew you should have worn something besides what you were. A rayon crepe black sundress. Of course, the dress was flattering. A simple but elegant white floral print, fit and flare cut, puff sleeves and a regency style lace trimmed neckline to top it all off. Your hair in loose beach curls shrouded a bit of your face as you avoided gaze with the new hire.

You had anticipated mental drools, a predatory look of epic proportions—the type you normally got but gave your best attempt to brush off. You stance was implicative of your mood, hip jutted to the side with your arms crossed over your chest, very closed off body language. Out of the corner of your eye, though, you didn’t notice the stares you were used to.

He examined your face, the spoiled brat look written all over it. Fancy makeup, shimmery earrings, perfectly styled hair and flattering but expensive clothing. You were the definition of an only child to a filthy rich set of parents. His gaze never faltered from your eyes, though you knew he was scanning every bit of you he could see, but not in an objectifying way—it was almost as if he was measuring you up.

It was your turn to give him a good judging onceover. His suit was perfectly pressed and his stance was secure, feet shoulder width apart, chest out and shoulders square, hands hooked behind his back, jaw firm and head high. He was as legit as they came, so you softened a little.

Amidst your final mental verdict, your mother was calling your name somewhere in the back of your mind. Once you finally snapped back to reality, your mother cordially introduced you to one another.

“This is Wong Yukhei, a prospect from Hong Kong. He’s come a long way—”

You were already done listening, distracted by his sharp features. For such a young man, his jawline and cheekbones were pretty set. His eyes, a gorgeous mix between coffee and ebony, serious and attentive, stared you down. You examined the rest of his features. His nose was straight, buttoned on the end. His jaw tightened when your eyes fell onto his lips. They were a pale muted rose, top thicker than bottom and before you were staring too long, your eyes regarded his honey brown locks, parted on the side, hardly considered combed—some tassels were falling into his eyes.

He was tall, an observation you’d missed upon first sight and judging by his stance, his set jaw, and the wear of his pants, he was fit. He had to be for this type of job, especially considering your agility and tendency to disappear unwarranted.

His ears were pierced. That Cupid’s bow was something else, glittering in the dim light of the foyer, all natural light from the skylights above. His neck was long and slender, fading into square shoulders with the curve of his traps, which you only became aware of by the fit of his jacket, hung up a little too high for a normal boy his age. He was easily unlike anything you’d ever experienced around here before.

When he finally spoke, his voice was something ethereal. For such a young man, his pitch was deep, too deep. You hadn’t even realized your mother had stopped talking until he was speaking. His voice was velvet in your ears. Suddenly, you were moving. Despite his velvet voice, you were finding it difficult to focus on exactly what he was saying—it was short lived and your mother was talking again as you headed down the hall, herself at the head of the train and you the caboose, sandwiching Yukhei between to take the first right, which was the hallway your bedroom was down.

Speaking of, your mother mentioned you being Yukhei’s new assignment. Your heart skipped a beat; it had to have, when your mother stopped at the door across the hall from your bedroom. What had happened to the previous resident of that room? It was always a seamless transition when someone new took that room.

“… the bathroom is that door there…”

You were almost panicking when she pointed to your door. Yukhei was so serious about this job; he didn’t even turn to look at it and took the information at face value, having no particular significance or point of interest to him. It was a job, a job he was paid for, a professional job.

Wong Yukhei was your new personal bodyguard.

#yukhei #lucas #yukhei scenarios #lucas scenarios #nctwriters #nct #nct scenarios #bodyguard!lucas #this boy won't let me live so i'm going to spend my days writing this since i've had this idea for some time now and lucas fits the bill #good day infinites

72 notes · View notes

mentalcurls · 5 years

Text

8. Lo sanno tutti a scuola

Episode 8! Thing are not great for Eva right now. It’s fun that I always start the episodes and think I don’t have that much to say about them, then I always end up writing at least 3 pages of ramblings. This time the topics that came up were Giovanni’s maturity, my headcanons about Edoardo and romance novels. And of course at the end of the post there are the results ot the Bechdel test!

that shot with the sky, Eva and the house with the gradient geometric shapes behind her is gorgeous, jeez

also, the song that mimics Eva’s heartbeat skipping while she looks for Gio

ok, so, did Gio send Marti out or was he leaving on his own?

Marti sure loves his dramatic pauses

and like, Gio was dealing with this in a pretty mature way? Not talking to Eva but not asking anyone else (Marti) to ostracize her, asking her for space and telling her he’ll contact her; except then there’s the “you made everything go to shit”

MARTI FEELS SO FUCKING GUILTY! Look at him, he avoids looking at Eva for too long, his eyes are basically soulless, he’s staring into nothing and hating himself

“Stai tranquilla” says Marti and then again Eleonora, a few minutes later: guys, I get you don’t really know what to say to make Eva feel better, to tell her you’re there for her but “Stai tranquilla” doesn’t help! She feels guilty and ashamed and isolated, she need reassurance she’ll get through this with you!

that scene with “Million reasons” playing 💔 Gio glancing at the back of Eva’s head then turning away 💔 the fact that I can’t see Gio’s eyes properly to gauge how shitty Gio feels, how much he cried, how little he slept 💔

the boys all turning back to look at Eva 💔 Marti lingering 💔 Elia turning Gio’s head 💔 (but also threading his fingers through Gio’s hair 💖)

and it’s so significant that Ele and Silvia get to Eva’s class walking upstream, against the current of people going outside (who are represnt the sheep mentality of high schoolers blaming Eva for Fede cheating because they listen to gossip)

and Eva takes a breath when she sees the girls and she must be so relieved, it must feel like it’s the first time she’s able to breathe properly since Alice slapped her

Silvia keeps looking at Eleonora while she talks, as if looking for reassurance, and I’m so curious! I wanna know if Ele’s looking back, if they’re pulling a full on Elia-and-Giovanni-parenting-Martino!

ohhh, the showdown between Ele and Silvia and Laura and Sara (also, notice how both couples of girls are blonde+brunette?)

that last look between Ele and Silvia before the second group hug! They’re totally concerned moms parenting Eva

that second hug is so soft I’m 💖

oh, poor Eva! As if her week wasn’t bad enough she has to get her period, poor babe

not to mention the misogynistic insults written in the bathroom stall about her

oh God, I know what Eva’s feeling when her mom confronts her: I bet she genuinely hasn’t thought of the fight in a while, more concerned with Gio and the looks and insults and general hostility (on top of school of course) so she’s honestly caught off guard (it happened to me with a professor who took me aside cause he found out I’d let a classmate copy a translation during a test, and I’d completely forgotten about it, I had no idea what the hell he was talking about when he asked me if there was something I wanted to tell him… it was horrible)

Paola is obviously concerned already but I don’t think she’s let herself fully appreciate the kind of situation Eva is in and she only gets a glimpse when she sits her daughter down and listens to her rant, but her expression changes immediately

except them she brings up Giovanni! As if that is the most important thing! Her daughter told her she’s stressed, she doesn’t sleep at night and she latches onto Gio?? WTF

and that sigh at the end, that’s Paola realizing just how much she is in fact out of the loop of Eva’s life, just like Eva told her a minute earlier, cause probably they haven’t talked about Eva’s boyfriend since the failed dinner! She let weeks pass without asking who he is again? Cause Eva would’ve told her if she’d asked around ep. 6, let’s say right after the park scene with Gio

ok, but Eva is slightly stalking Giovanni: they’re in the same class, fine; she went to look for him at his house immediately after the fight, understandable; but when she’s on the steps with Ele?? Girl, he asked you for some space!

Silvia is making good choices as far as fashion consultant go in this season (in S2 however she asks Marti to go shopping with her,so…….)

“You don’t have to wait for his permission, just go there and talk to him” and Eleonora Sava lets me down here. If someone asks you for space, you give ‘em space, love

Eleonora is kind of OOC here: since when is she so concerned with what other people think that she polices what kind of music she listens to and feels like she has to justify herself because of it’s a silly, catchy, pop song?

anyways, this whole scene screams Evanora to me, with pining!Ele trying to distract Eva from Gio and at the same time show her that she’s there, available, look at me Eva, I make you smile!! Men are trash, but there’s *drumroll* girls! Like me! I’m a girl!

and then Edoardo gets there, interrupts their moment and proves men are trash: he creeps up on them from behind, insinuates himself in a conversation he has no business being involved in and mocks Ele both for her singing, her musical choices and her justifying herself. Primary school level pigtail pulling.

and then he just stares at her! Like a dumbass! Like he hopes she’ll get lost in the bottomless pits of his eyes or something! Like he’s out of a clichè romance novel or a bodice ripper!

new headcanon: Edoardo secretly reads tons of Harmony paperbacks (similar to Harlequin novels, for those of you who aren’t Italian) and all of his ideas and opinions on love and romance come from the books. So far, he’s been the typical rich, popular, brooding hero who loves and leaves with Silvia and now he’s the man who pursues the woman who tells him no with Eleonora so the shoe fits perfectly. Let’s see how it evolves

he offers her a ride home! The only thing missing is a white horse and the slain of some attacker who wanted to hurt Ele

the “Eduardo” thing is so stupid! They could have gone the Eberardo/Everardo route much easily and it would have been much funnier cause it’s an uncommon, pretentious name! Or they could have gone for something completely different like that still started with E, there’s a lot of pretty weird-sounding names like Evaristo, Eusebio, Ermenegildo that start with E (in the og Noora calls William Wilhelm which is pretty different, so I think they would have worked well)

Edo is smart here: Ele tries to shove back in his face the not-knowing-your-name thing he did to Silvia, but he neatly sidesteps her and the only comeback she has is insulting him directly: Edoardo 1 - Eleonora 0 tbh, this is a struggle of wit and she went vulgar

Eleonora is badass, but I can’t help but feel she’s very 16 years old

ok, the following conversation is a bit weird: Eva’s question is pretty clear, yet Ele asks for clarification, then when Eva says she did it on purpose Ele denies, then say the thing about manipulation

the real thing that should worry Eva is that Eleonora has mind categories for the people she knows such as “adversaries” tbh

Eva shaming Ele for listening to Baby K (along with Ele asking for a vow of secrecy and justifying himself for the song she sung) throws me back to ep. 3 when Eva talks to Gio about her classmates enjoying k-pop and manga: girls, who on earth made you believe that liking silly, catchy, fun, pop stuff that is marketed specifically for you, that tries to cater to your interests, that exists and is successful thanks to you, is wrong and something to be ashamed of? Why being passionate about something feminine or light, that doesn’t require a huge effort to understand it, or again frivolous is such a bad thing? You’re allowed to like whatever you want, you’re allowed to spend hours and hours on it and you’re allowed to share your interest with other people like you who enjoy those things! Let the others say it’s trashy or stupid stuff, they don’t know shit about what it means to you!

aaaand we’re back to Eva not giving Gio space, going to his place again then having Marti tell him where he is

and she’s even wearing an oversized denim jacket that’s quite reminiscent of Gio’s!

blue Eva, blue train, blue pool

red Gio! I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gio not wear blue or grey, even in this season?!

this angry Gio is not exactly the same hurt, disappointed boy from 5.6 Quante cazzate in S2, because with Marti it’s been a slow boil, things bubbling up a little bit at a time plus there’s the extenuating circumstance of his home situation; with Eva, there some foreshadowing, something wrong, but it was a sudden stab, a fundamentally unexpected betrayal; so where in S2 there’s a lot of sadness too, in this situation it’s pure anger

and Eva does the right thing, she tells the truth… except she doesn’t, the very first thing she says is a lie she tells both Gio and herself, because it’s not true she isn’t attracted to Federico

AND AGAIN WITH THE SEXIST LANGUAGE GIOVANNI, you asshole, did you really have to go for “hysterical”?? A very gendered term?

and thank God Eva is given a chance to throw it back to his face, all the gaslighting and manipulation he put her through; except then she goes for “victim” blaming

aaaand Giovanni confirms the rumor Eleonora heard, the thing Silvia confronted Edoardo about, is true! In case anyone had any doubts after Edo’s convincing performance of pretending it isn’t a thing

Gio sees right through the lie, he knows Eva likes Federico, if not for the person he is then for the things he represents: Eva is in full on Silvia mindset

I think this is the episode where we meet S2 Gio: except for a few moments, caused by hurt and anger, he handles this whole mess in a mature, contained way that we see again and again in S2, like when he takes Marti aside to tell him off for using him as a cover with his mom without telling him, like when Marti comes back to school after the “hiatus” week or when he comes out; whereas up until now, I’ve seen a younger, dumber Gio, who lied and didn’t give much thought to people’s feeling (like when he teases Federica with Marti in ep.3) and who manipulated people to get his way (the gaslighting, the fight at the park with Eva in ep.6)

the bus being cancelled without warning or being so late it’s as if it’s canceled is such Italian culture

Edo is smart: he doesn’t even know Eleonora’s name, but he kept Eva’s face in mind and he’s found the perfect opportunity to exploit his, albeit limited, knowledge and to appear kinder with at least one of Ele’s friends, since he botched things with Silvia

on the other hand, hello again saviour complex straight out of a bodice ripper

this scene is so Twilight: the expensive, fast car, actually going to school by car at all, Eva being late and in “trouble”, Edo acting like a gentleman and stopping the car for her

Eva is a great friend! She hesitates! Despite having a super important test that could determine if she passes or fails a class! And then she pretends she doesn’t know he’s talking about Ele ad she refuses to give Edo her number!

“Then I save your life for real this morning” what did I say about a saviour complex? Also, way to fish for gratitude and compliments, asshole, let her study!

“I’ll find her on Instagram anyways” arrogance is not the same thing as confidence, Edoardo, and you’re an exemplary display of the first here

Bechdel test: this episode passes the Bechdel test, thanks to Eva’s conversation with her mom Paola and to Eva and Eleonora talking on the steps (except for a very brief mention of Edoardo that I decided to overlook).

This post is part of my complete series of meta about Skam Italia season 1. If you’d like to read more of my thoughts about the other episodes, you can find the mastepost linked in the top bar on my blog under SKAMIT: EVA. Cheers!

#skam italia #eva brighi #giovanni garau #edoardo incanti #skamit s1 #skamit meta #skamit #martino rametta #silvia mirabella #eleonora sava #paola brighi #a. writes #i missed sana and federica in this episode can't wait to see them again!#1x08 lo sanno tutti a scuola

1 note · View note