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dienamights · 3 years

Text

A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

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The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you.

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work.

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,”

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement.

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible.

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-”

“How is your hero boyfriend?”

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention.

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change.

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?”

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior.

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention.

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful.

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it.

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time.

He told me so.

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.”

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt.

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.”

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek.

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it.

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

627 notes · View notes

xtinyaurora · 3 years

Note

Heyyyyy I’m new here :3 could I request ATEEZ reaction to you being a brat? :3

Ateez reaction: Bratty Y/N

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➼ requested?: yes

➼ genre: smut

➼ pairing: Ateez x neutral!reader

➼ Word-count: 2k+

➼ Warnings: nsfw content, strong language, cursing, threads, annoyance, bratty behavior, pet names...

➼ Note: This is not based on their real behavior or meant to represent real life. This is simply a fan fiction and is only for the purposes of fun, it’s a hobby. Read at your own risk!

➼ A/N note: Sorry for updating after a longer time, I had a few mental health issues... Thanks to everyone who waited tho and thank you so much for 200+ followers... Please let me know if you have ideas in mind for a ‘special'! Hope you all like this one tho. Feel free to leave some feedback! Also, let me know if any of you wants to be added to my taglist!

➼ Taglist: @teeztheflag @darkstarlights

__________________________________________

Park Seonghwa

You were sulking because Seonghwa didn’t bought you that dress you saw in one of those expensive shops today. Actually, you could call him your „sugar daddy”. He bought you anything you wanted whenever you wanted, but not today. Today was different, because you already started to provoke him in the early morning, disobeying and yelling at him. He didn’t know what happened to you, even after asking a hundredth of times, you just kept on being bratty towards the male. Soon, he had enough. While the two of you were sitting in the car, at the parking lot of the shopping mall, you kept on complaining about that dress. Seonghwa leaned into your side and grabbed your throat, immediately shutting you up. „You better stop talking, before I lose my shit and hit you right in the face and fuck you right on top of this car, baby. Would you like that? For all people to see how I put you in your place. Huh?” You silently shook your head, a hint of fear written on your face. „I thought so. Now stop being a bratty little bitch and start behaving, understood?” Again, you remained silent, nodding your head this time. Seonghwa then sat back and started the power of the car, driving off, back home.

Kim Hongjoong

Hongjoong finally took a day off, immediately calling you to go on a date but you were mad at him. Why? He knew that you had other plans today but still choose this day to take a break. „Y/N, baby, come on. You know I have no say in this. This is not my fault, so please come to the restaurant we always go to, okay?” You let out a ironic laugh. „Tz. First, you pick the worst day and now you want me to come there myself? Oh no, if you really want to get out with me then you are going to pick me the fuck up.” Hongjoong was kinda shocked, not excepting this kind of behavior. After massaging his temples, since this boy was stressed and annoyed by your way of behaving, he just hung up the call, not in the mood to keep up with you right now. You went absolutely insane. Like, how dare he? When midnight came around, Hongjoong entered the front door, food in his hands. You were sitting in the living room, still pissed about earlier today. A knock on the doorframe made you look up. When spotting your boyfriend, you rolled your eyes and kept watching tv. „Haven’t cool down yet?” You got back to 180. „Excuse me?! Get your ass out of this room Mr. 'I think I can allow myself whatever I want' because yes, I am still mad at you.” He stared at you, not believing what was happing. Since when did you get so bratty? Shaking his head while approaching you and placing the food on the table, he grabbed both of your forearms and looked you deep in the eyes. „Okay now listen here you bratty bitch. You’re gonna listen to me and start behaving or I will punish you so hard that you wish you could turn the time back and thank me for making time for you, okay? I want my good little kitten back because I don’t like nasty strays that don’t obey me. No one would like one, so be happy and appreciate me you ungrateful pice of shit and shut the fuck up.”

Jeong Yunho

He was just staring at you blankly, while you were throwing a tantrum. This already happened a couple of times but it was never this bad. He kept on watching you, until you eventually calmed down yourself. It really provoked you that he didn’t stop you or has done anything for that matter. At some point, you gave up because you knew how well Yunho could control his anger. Honestly, you didn’t even know why you freaked out like that. Both of you were searching for a movie to watch and when Yunho picked one that you already saw and absolutely hated, both of you started auguring. It’s his turn to pick the movie because you picked last time, yet that didn’t sit with you. Maybe you were just having a bad day? At least that’s what Yunho told himself. „Are you done now?” You sat there, at the ground while Yunho sat in front of you, on the couch. „Yea... sorry.” Yunho nodded, pulling you up on his lap. You thought he will cuddle with you but sike, he flipped you over so you were laying on your stomach, over his knees, ass in perfect view for him. „How many hits do you think you deserve? Hm? Maybe 20 or 30? Or... 40 or 50?”

Kang Yeosang

He had this furious and annoyed look on his face. You got kinda terrified now, knowing what a beast this boy could be when he was mad. He watched you until you went silent, sitting next to each other and waiting for what’s going to happen next. You started to get nervous because Yeosang kept looking at you without saying or doing anything. His silence never meant anything good... „Stop looking.” He raised one of his eyebrows. „Stop talking.” You did keep quiet, not knowing what else to do now. „Dumb pet, do you think you’re worth my time? Oh how embarrassing... It’s such a shame that there are so many people who want me yet I chose you over everyone else, an ungrateful little bitch.” His words kinda hurt and you stated to doubt your worth. Maybe he’s right? You maybe should have followed the rules. You shouldn’t have told him no and most important, you shouldn’t have done all of that in front of his friends. You kinda started to regret it but it was way too late now. Even if you did apologize now, Yeosang wouldn’t forgive you, he will punish you no matter what. The more silence there is, the harder the punishment will be. „Go into the bedroom. Take your clothes off and wait for me.”

Choi San

To be direct, you were unnecessarily overreacting. When you visited the boys and watch them while they practiced, San didn’t greet you as usual and you didn’t like that. At all. He was too focused to even notice you tbh. When he finally turned around and spotted you, he rolled his eyes, taking in your grumpy state. He made his way towards you, so he could give you a kiss but you pushed him away. He gave you a questioning look but you just turned your face away. „Hey, give me a kiss.” You still didn’t move, hoping to upset somehow. „Y/N.” His first warning. „Look at me.” Still, you didn’t move. The other members started to notice but kept on practicing because they didn’t wanted to get involved in anything. San exhaled loudly, pulling you up and dragging you out with him. „Don’t touch me!” You yelled at your boyfriend. He didn’t even bother to listen to you. „It hurts!” You hoped that he would loosen his grip a bit, but instead his grip on you got stronger. When he reached his room, he threw you on the bed and undressed himself. „You hurt me!” Still having that attitude on, you again yelled at him. He gave you a murderous look, finally shutting you up. He the hovered over you, staring you dead in the eyes. „If you ever dare to pull something like that in front of the other members again, I will make you regret visiting us, okay? Now better behave, before I completely lose the last bit of my self control, you stupid kid.”

Song Mingi

„Mingi, Mingi! Wake up!” You shook him until he groaned out in annoyance. „Y/N? What’s wrong?” You huffed. „I am bored. You have to do something with me, come on.” You tried to pull him up but he was stronger than you, resulting that you were the one being pulled and laying on top of him now. „Did you loose your mind? It’s three in the morning, let me sleep!” He half yelled, half whispered. As he was about to drift off to sleep again, you pulled on his hair, making him tear his eyes open and cry out loudly. „Ouch! What the heck, Y/N? That hurts!” A smile creeped on your face, finally achieving your goal of waking him up. He just stared at you, giving you a ‘are you serious?’ type of look. „Now that you’re awake, we can do something! Should we watch a movie or should we play some ga-“ „No! We are not going to do any of these! It’s bed time, so lay down! I am not in the mood for all of this.” You smacked his thigh. „No Mingi, get up! What do you not get from 'I am bored, let’s do something’, huh?” He really has enough. „Okay Bunny, you wanna do something? Let’s play a game. It’s called ‘try not to scream while getting your ass beaten and brain fucked out’. Sounds fun, right?” You gulped, then getting pulled and flipped around, so that your backside faced up. At least he’s full of energy now...

Jung Wooyoung

Both of you were sitting in a restaurant. He was already fed up with your behavior but he let go because he didn’t had enough strength to deal with you right now. This cutie was so hungry and tiered after practice, that he didn’t wanted things to go wrong but you really left him no choice. Just because you didn’t wanted to eat in this restaurant and wanted to go to your favorite one instead, you stated to act up, gaining lots of attention from all the nagging and yelling. Wooyoung grabbed your upper arm and pulled you near him, whispering in your ear so others wouldn’t hear. „Shut your mouth now Y/N, I’ve had enough of your bullshit. You’re so fucking embarrassing you stupid brat.” He then let go, harshly shoving your arm away and leaning back. When the waiter approached you two, to note your order, you remained silent. After rolling his eyes, Wooyoung ordered food only for himself. When he finished eating, he stood up and threw some money in the table. He was about to walk away when he turned around to face you. „If you don’t get up within the next two seconds, I will break your legs.” He gave you a last condescending look before walking out. You obeyed and followed him out, joining him in his car. He didn’t even spare you a glance, driving straight to your apartment a grin forming on his face, several ideas for your punishment popping into his head.

Choi Jongho

Hit after hit, you put in more effort to annoy him. You soon realized that this wasn’t enough, so you started pinching and biting him. „Ouch, Y/N, are you crazy?!” Ah, finally! You smirked at him and wiggled your eyebrows, satisfied that he finally showed a reaction. „Do you think that’s funny?” You smiled. „Very. And now that I finally have your attention, you can do something with me. Oh and, get me some water please I am thirsty.” He stared at you in disbelief. „Are you okay, Y/N?” You gave him a look of disapproval. „Uhm, yea? I still am but if you don’t get me my water I won’t be and than I am going to hit you, again.” He was kinda amused now. „Oh? Where does all that attitude come from, all of a sudden?” You shrugged with your shoulders. „I don’t know and I don’t care. You gotta deal with it now.” You laid down on the couch both of you were sitting on and placed your legs on his lap. „I am still waiting for my water Jong.” He didn’t move. You wanted to raise your head up to scold him but he was faster than you, now hovering over you. „I will give you something else to drink. Get down and kneel. We have to clean that bratty mouth of yours, yea? Come on brat, suck me off. You don’t want me to get mad now, do you?”

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bullworthdrabbles · 3 years

Text

Women in Bullworth: Zoe Taylor

TW: discussions of sexual abuse, trauma, CSA, Mr. Burton's ped* bullshit, self-harm, and other not-great stuff.

This one is super long and full of hard stuff to talk about don't read if you are not in the right headspace.

Oh boy, this one is going to be one of the hardest to write for me because I love Zoe and I know so many who love her as well. Then, there’s also a lot of triggering content in her story that needs to be discussed but hits me very close to my chest. This will likely be very long and particularly scathing due to just how frustrating Zoe’s story (or lack thereof) is to me. As a victim of CSA, this particular post is going to be very hard for me to discuss and will take me a long time to fully articulate. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to write this, but I needed many breaks and to rant to several friends in order not to type all of this in all caps and through various curses.

Before I really discuss the tropes and stereotypes like I usually do I need to discuss the fact that as I write this series I’m seeing the unfortunate pattern arise of Rockstar sloppily using sexual violence against women in their stories without doing their research, taking the time to consider the consequence that happening would have in someone’s life, and just what message they are sending with how they tackle these kinds of stories. Sexual abuse and teachers using their power to take advantage of teens and minors is an unfortunate reality that does happen in high schools. I can understand the idea of wanting to discuss this issue when your game is set in high school where these things can happen, but this type of story is horrific and to do it justice requires a sensitivity Rockstar simply didn’t deliver.

The bully wiki and the game itself states that Zoe was expelled from the school for reporting Mr. Burton's sexual harassment and based on the previous missions involving this disgusting man we know Zoe isn’t the only victim. Does he ever get held accountable? Does he face any sort of punishment despite Jimmy quite literally being a witness and having evidence thumbtacked to his wall of Mr. Burton's disgusting behavior that he made Jimmy also take part in? No, not really, he only gets “fired” at the end of the game, and by “fired” I mean you still see him walking around the school like nothing happened, still saying the same shit and having access to underage girls. If it was just the lack of accountability I could interpret this as Rockstar taking a very bleak but realistic look at the situation. I could maybe think they were trying to show the disgusting truth that victims are almost never believed even with a mountain of evidence stacked against the perpetrator. They could be showing that it takes so much traumatizing bullshit just to try to get justice only for nothing to happen.

However, they messed up this story almost comically which makes me think it was just a cheap way to get her out of the school because they clearly didn't think about how abuse and a violation of someone’s bodily autonomy would impact an actual victim. I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t simply flip a portapotty onto the person who harassed and violated my bodily autonomy. I'm not a generally violent person, but I do think about harming my abuser in incredibly violent ways because of how much bullshit he has put me through. Rockstar never has her dealing with the side-effects and real mental toll this kind of abuse does to a person unless it’s time to make it a funny mission. Turning real horrific trauma into nothing more than a motive for a prank. Then there’s the dialogue of her talking about liking older guys, which I want desperately to believe is Rockstar trying to insinuate that Zoe is coping with her trauma via hypersexuality. Hypersexuality is a common unhealthy coping mechanism for survivors of sexual trauma, they purposely seek out sexual encounters as a way of reclaiming power and bodily autonomy sexually. It can also be seen as self-harm behavior if the survivor is having lots of purposely unprotected sex. But Rockstar clearly didn’t do enough research into sexual trauma responses, much less the basic realities of surviving sexual trauma, so I highly doubt that they even considered this when writing these lines.

Unfortunately, Rockstar was just trying to make her a “not like other girls” stereotype, I bet you thought I wasn’t going to bring it up but sadly I am. Zoe is one of the better-written female characters, but that isn’t really saying much when all the other girls are just cardboard cheap conflict and plot devices. We actually know a lot more about her background than we do the other girls, does it really change that she doesn’t serve much of a plot-significant role? Nope. Does this change the fact that Rockstar once again used sexual trauma as a cheap mission fodder? Nope? Is she allowed to be more than just a health pack, quest giver, and reward? If you think her being the “girl the protagonist gets with at the end” counts maybe, but to me, nope.

This was hard for me to say as it was a hard pill for me to swallow, but literally, all of her traits that separate her from the other girls are just so they could make her a “Tom-boy” and “not like other girls” stereotype. They don’t make her a fully formed unique person where her past, experiences, and traumas actually impact who she is as a person. No, they needed a final love interest for their protagonist so they just took his character traits and story and made some similar dialogue as the dialogue for Gary ( we can all admit there was something going on before the betrayal between those two) then slapped it onto another ginger, now with boobs. The funny thing is she doesn’t even seem that interested with Jimmy until the very end, their whole relationship seems forced and rushed so Rockstar fucked even that up. They clearly had a lot of ideas they wanted to touch on but because of their own unwillingness to take the time to flesh her out instead, we got...well everything I said before.

I’ve said it a thousand times and I will say it again, a lot of these problems could have been avoided. Rockstar could have taken their female characters seriously, could have written them well if that was one of their focuses, but it wasn’t. I love this game and I love a lot of these characters but I feel that even if this game provided me years' worth of comfort and entertainment, it should still be called out for its issues and how it mishandles very serious and sensitive issues. I hope this series and my thoughts on these characters made you think about your own writing and works you see making similar mistakes. I can tell that none of these errors came from a place of malice, but deep ignorance and works that perpetuate said ignorance can send harmful messages to people. I hope by shedding light on this I may make you re-examine the messages you see surrounding female characters in media and their stereotypes. Thank you for reading my incredibly long rants.

#sa tw #csa tw #cce discussion #bully canis canem edit #canis canem edit #women of bullworth #bully anniversary edition #bully brain rot time #bullworth academy #bully scholarship edition #bully game #cce bully #bully cce #cas speaks

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pandoraborn · 3 years

Text

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 14

( previous. )

-----

Characters: c!Quackity, c!Puffy, c!Tommy, c!Dream, c!Wilbur, c!Ranboo, c!Techno, c!Phil Word count: 2019 Content: blood, injury, mild blood loss, talk of war, talk of murder, tommy embraces his dark side, dark!fic,

-----

Quackity fumbles for the bandages, swearing under his breath. The anger from earlier never faded, and it’s only increasing with each passing moment. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when patrolling the greater SMP, but Quackity had never expected Technoblade to show up and give him another thrashing. He hadn’t succeeded in killing Quackity again, but he had certainly tried. Quackity had managed to flee after receiving a large gash on his arm, but he feels smug over the fact he’d manage to wedge an arrow into Techno’s collarbone.

He’s at the community center, grabbing whatever he can for bandages and healing. His hands tremble too much for him to be effective, but the thought of waking anyone up or disturbing them doesn’t sit well with him. Quackity wants to handle this alone, the others can worry in the morning.

The sound of shuffling comes behind him, and Quackity spares Puffy a quick glance before going back to treating his wounds. Of all the people to come find him right now, he wishes it wasn’t her. Quackity feels like she’s too gentle with the teenagers, wouldn’t see enough reason.

“Quackity?” Puffy’s voice is gentle. “Come with me to Snowchester, we can help you better.” She’s only irritating him more. If only she’d been around earlier, she’d have seen the mess and where everyone actually stands.

“They have Techno on their side,” Quackity says gruffly. “Also, Tubbo is wrong about Tommy.” He shoots her a glare through his peripheral vision. It’s not her fault, but he’s angry at her all the same. “It’s worse than we thought.”

There’s no response from Puffy at first. Quackity dimly wonders if she’s walked off, but he can feel her hands on him a second later. Quackity doesn’t jerk back, he lets her take over the bandaging, but he stares at her with his good eye.

“What are you talking about?” She finally asks. “I think Tubbo would know the most about Tommy, considering how close they used to be. Tommy also wouldn’t willingly work with Techno if he really is working with them.”

“I caught Tommy and Ranboo planting explosives around the perimeter,” Quackity snaps. “Tommy was ordering Ranboo to get rid of me, and then after I accidentally shot him-”

“You shot Tommy?” Puffy’s grip tightens painfully. Wincing, Quackity tries to jerk his arm back, but her grip is holding strong. “What were you thinking Quackity? That’s Tommy!”

“Do you really think Tommy would disappear all this time and not come back with some warped thinking?” Quackity asks pointedly. “He’s with Wilbur, remember?”

“He’s a child,” Puffy protests. “He needed the most help out of all of us, and...” she trails off, biting at her lip. She resumes bandaging up Quackity’s arm, breathing slowly. Quackity watches her eyes glisten with unshed tears. Anger fading, Quackity shakes his head. He shouldn’t be angry at Puffy. She loved Tommy, he knows. Her and Sam and even Eret had all loved Tommy in their own ways, and circumstances had constantly prevented them from actually offering help.

“He said he was tired,” Quackity says, softening his own voice. “Said he was tired of being everyone’s hero, or villain, and just wanted to put an end to everything. I don’t know what that meant, only that something big is coming, and Tommy is putting aside grudges to work with people he hated. He’s with Dream, Puffy, and we have to start treating him and Ranboo the same we treated Dream.”

Pulling back, Puffy wipes her eyes. Her bottom lip is quivering, but she nods. “You’re right. We have...” Her voice trails off again as she clears her throat.

“We have to treat them like the villains now,” Quackity says. “If they recruited Techno, they likely have Phil too. Which means they’re building up an army, and we have to prepare too.”

She nods. “I’ll go tell Tubbo, then. We’ll have to protect Michael.” Puffy turns and leaves, heading in Snowchester’s direction. Quackity watches her go, before turning to leave in a different direction.

He’s going to talk to Sam.

----

“Stop your bitching, Tommy, before we drug you.” Rather than sounding concerned, Wilbur sounds amused. This is massively unfair. Wilbur should be sobbing over his injuries, fretting over how worried he is for Tommy’s life.

Or maybe the fog of pain is clouding his version of reality.

“I’m so tired,” Tommy whispers. “Am I dying?” He stretches his hand out, hoping someone will grab at it. Ranboo lets out a snort before slipping his hand into Tommy’s. He’s grateful for the action, but Ranboo isn’t who he wants. “Wil...Wilby...”

“Tommy you got shot with a single arrow. I know it hurts like hell, but stop dramatizing this and hold still so Techno can pull it out.” At least Wilbur has the good graces to keep Tommy pinned to the sofa. What Wilbur doesn’t understand is that his entire body still aches. The sofa feels warm and sticky underneath him, and Tommy’s thoughts aren’t sticking long enough for him to counter with a witty retort.

Pain-laced eyes meet Techno’s, before sliding over to Phil. It says something to Tommy when Phil looks more concerned for Tommy’s physical health than Wilbur, so he yanks his hand from Ranboo’s, reaching for Phil instead. “Phil... dad...”

"No,” Phil says. “I’m not your father, and I’m not moving closer. You already have way too many people gathered around you. You’d think this was a wake, rather than you getting hurt.”

“I’m dying,” Tommy whines. “I went out of my way to fight Quackity, I stood up for myself, and this is the thanks I get? I even passed out!” Talking makes his hip pulse with pain; Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as he hisses, fighting to hurt to grab at himself to yank the damned thing out already.

“Yes, you did, you were so brave,” Wilbur says. Wilbur is no longer mocking him, at least. “When this is over and you’ve had yourself a long sleep, we’ll treat you to a nice, hot meal.”

“I’m already done.” Techno clears his throat. It takes the group a moment to realize Techno had been standing in place for at least a full minute, holding a blood-stained arrow in his hand. His other hand is pressed against Tommy’s hip to slow the flow of blood.

The realization that Tommy’s ache isn’t the arrow, but the after effect kicks in. Without people distracting him, the pain from the would fully sets in, and he’s yelping loudly in agony. It hurts. The wound throbs just as much as when he was first shot, and he can already feel the edges of unconsciousness creep up in the edges of his vision again. Wilbur reaches down to smack him gently in the face.

“Stay awake, Toms. Don’t go to sleep just yet. Techno, you should have said something immediately, because now he’s actually losing blood. Dream-”

“Already on it.” Dream comes in with bandages and ointments and stuff Tommy is sure he’s never seen before. Techno’s hand pressed against him stings, and dimly, he can feel Ranboo grab his hand a second time.

The time for lighthearted banter is over, apparently. No longer is Tommy milking the pain or trying to ease the tension, now he’s hovering on the edge of consciousness and trying to resist the drowsy pull of sleep. He’s floating again, listening to everyone chatter around him, ignoring the stabs of pain from bandages and oils being applied to his injury.

For the first few seconds, Tommy can make out voices trying to talk to him. He can’t remember what he says in response, but the conversations finally slow. Tommy’s still somewhat coherent. At least, he’s coherent enough to make out the following conversation.

“I’m going to murder him,” Techno mutters. “I don’t like Tommy, but what Quackity did was bullshit. I’m going-”

“Easy,” Dream says. “Pretty by now everyone knows what’s going on, and they’re going to arm themselves. So we have to do the same thing, otherwise we’re never going to get anywhere.”

“We don’t have the element of surprise anymore,” Ranboo whispers. “At least with the explosives. But we still have the dragon.”

“Why was Quackity there to begin with?” Dream asks. “I should have known he’d get in the way.”

“Yeah,” Techno mutters. “He’s always in the way. He’s really good at interfering where he’s not wanted, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong. Are you sure-”

“You know what?” Dream pauses. Tommy can practically see Dream stroking his chin. “We knew there were going to be casualties. If Quackity is acting as their guard dog, it’s not going to be long before he convinces them to try and track us. We could have people showing up here any day now, because he’s good.”

“So can I kill him or not?”

“I don’t feel good about this,” Ranboo says. “Especially for Tommy’s sake. He and Quackity were close.”

Tommy tries to move. He tries to reach up to grab at someone’s sleeve, but he’s too heavy, especially now that the pain is fading and easing the tension in his body. He does grunt, though.

“Tommy, you can sleep now.” Tommy doesn’t know who’s saying it, but it doesn’t matter. All their voices are blending together anyway.

“He...” Tommy parts his lips and lets out a quiet, ragged breath. “-shot me. Said I was mentally poisoned.” Wilbur cards his fingers through Tommy’s hair. It’s such a gentle, soothing act, and Tommy leans into it. “We’re at war, boys.”

“What are you saying?” Dream asks. “We’re not doing anything you’re not comfortable with. I know those people were your friends.”

“Were,” Tommy mutters. Forcing his eyes open, he focuses his gaze on Dream. “My comms have been open the whole time. Mine, and Ranboo’s. Not once did anyone bother contacting me. Not even Tubbo.”

“They probably forgot,” Phil offers. “I mean, not everyone remembers we have these devices. Or they probably thought yours was confiscated.”

Tommy shakes his head. “I realized something while out there fighting Quackity. I’m always going to be someone’s pity friend. They don’t care that I’m seventeen and can make up my own mind, they still treat me like I’m breaking and need to be kept safe. When I said I’m tired, I meant because of everyone.”

“You’re not glass,” Dream says. “I tried, you always bounce back, on some level.”

“I’m bouncing back now.” Tommy closes his eyes again. “And I’m saying, if Techno really wants to unleash hell, I say go for it.”

“Tommy...” Dream sounds taken aback. Tommy would laugh if he wasn’t so tired. The tables really have turned, haven’t they? “You’re starting to sound like us. You know if you go down this path, there isn’t any turning back.”

“So be it. I died for a cause that ultimately doesn’t matter, and as far as they’re concerned, that me is still dead.”

“You’re fully embracing the villain life?” Wilbur chuckles. “Even though you know what this actually entails? I’m actually a little concerned for your psyche.”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in Tommy’s voice. “I already accepted it, but now all I care about is the promise you made to me, Wil. That we’re still together after all this. Alive, dead, whatever the in between or whatever the dragon decides, I intend to hold you to that. All of us.”

A silence settles over the group at large. It’s not hard to figure out what Tommy is giving permission for, or finally admitting to himself. It’s shocking, it’s a twist, and they all know it’s not even defeat anymore. A defeated Tommy never means what he says. No, this is a resolution, a finality to everything he’d been through. Tommy knows that they know it, and no one’s going to speak up against him.

“Alright.” Dream claps his hands. “It’s settled then. We’re going to war.”

“Quackity wanted cruel,” Tommy whispers, letting himself fade. It’d been a long day, and he’s glad it’s finally over. “He’ll see the cruelty of the beast before long.”

#dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #dark!fic #cruelty of the beast #cruelty of the beast ch. 14 #quackity #technoblade #captain puffy #tommyinnit #ranboo #philza #wilbur soot #dreamwastaken #blood mention #injury mention #mild blood loss #tommy embraces his dark side #long post #miishae writes

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 47

Title: Truth

Warnings: profanity, slight angst, mentions of suicide attempt, depression, mental health issues

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip

“Esme told me. About your so-called girls trip. That it was nothing but bullshit.”

Sighing heavily, Riley leans back against one of the panes of glass; legs stretched out in front of her, arms folded across her chest. She’d only arrived an hour ago, and the initial joy and excitement of being rushed by a horde of children had been quickly replaced by frazzled nerves and nibbles of anxiety. The moment he’d approached when she’d been alone in the kitchen, she’d known it wasn’t with good intentions; the deep rumble of his voice, the tense shoulders and jaw, the increasing darkness taking over his eyes. And she’d barely gotten words of acknowledgment and acceptance out of her mouth when his fingers had curled around her upper arm and she found herself being manipulated her towards the sunroom. The door closing behind them and her brother in planting his large, strong frame directly in front of it.

She’s been witness to his ire; possessing a hair-trigger temper that’s been unleashed many times in her presence. Unsuspecting motorists in town that have come too close to his kids while in the crosswalk; profanities hurled in their direction, objects thrown at the car, a foot put through a headlight or front grill more than once. Overzealous parents at the soccer park or lacrosse field that believe their eight year old is the next athletic superstar; pacing the sidelines while screaming insults at teenaged referees and freaking out over poor play of their own kid or others on the field. Only to have a tattooed, six foot three, ‘built like a brick shit house’ coach storm across the grass to confront them on their bullshit; quietly yet intently calling them out and often physically escorting them away from the game. Or men that have the audacity to not just check his wife out, but make lewd remarks about her to their buddies or even attempt to follow her while making suggestive and highly sexualized comments. Never imagining that her husband is either just feet in front or behind her, or even across the street waiting to meet up with her.

They always regret their decision when they see him happen upon the scene; casually and calmly greeting her with a warm -albeit brief- embrace and a chaste kiss to the lips before turning his attention to the culprits. While some will put up a good fight and try to defend their egos and their masculinity by arguing with him, most attempt to apologize their way out of the mess they created. Stammering and stumbling over their words; frazzled and intimidated and even visibly shaking from the fear of getting their asses handed to them.

She’s even unintentionally wandered into the house while Tyler and Esme have been engrossed in a blow out themselves. Shortly after his release from the hospital; the horrific and constant pain and the frustration of slower than expected healing getting the better of him and causing to snap. Nothing too serious; raised voices and cupboards being slammed and plates and utensils being angrily tossed into the sink. By BOTH parties.

While seeing the actual explosion of his temper is bad enough, it’s the lead up that tends to be the scarier. The darkening of the eyes and the cold, fixed glare. The way his shoulders tense and his jaw clenches. The visible throbbing of the vein his neck; surgically repaired twelve and a half years after a teenager’s bullet that sliced through it and nearly taken his life. And while his height and his powerful build and the myriad of tattoos and scars are intimidating to most that come in contact with him, Tyler is not a threatening person. At least not intentionally. He’s normally quiet and reserved; taking the time to sit back and watch and listen to the people and the activity around him. Thoroughly analyzing and calculating every move they make and the words that come out of their mouths; assessing whether they both pose a threat and if they can be trusted and allowed into his extremely small, tight circle. Once you get to know him, you realize that while he’s a big man, he has an even bigger heart; compassionate and patient and possessing so much love and adoration for his wife and his children. Enormously protective; wanting nothing more for them to be happy and safe. And willing to do anything and everything to keep them that way.

She has never been on THIS side of the fence; the one being targeted by that intense and unwavering gaze. Not once getting on her brother in law’s bad side; enjoying the teasing and light hearted bickering and the backhanded compliments that their relationship has been built upon. Knowing what subjects to never broach and what lines to never -under any circumstances- cross; acknowledging and respecting his triggers and always doing her best to steer clear from them. A mutual respect exists between them; Tyler grateful for the never ending support that Riley provides her sister with, and Riley ever thankful for the world that he’s created for her sister. A man that loves her so profoundly and unconditionally; making her the centre of his universe and putting everything he has and everything he is into giving her a good life. Making her a mother; something she’d wanted for years and had given up hope on when things between her and Mark had gone so wrong. A hands-on father and a partner in every possible way; devoting every spare minute he has to her and his kids and doing whatever he can to make amazing memories for all of them to carry into adulthood. She’s never seen Esme THAT happy; peaceful and content despite all of the issues that have plagued them and the rocky terrain they’ve covered together and the scarier than hell situations they’ve gone through. Somehow making her even stronger than before; resilient and phenomenally patient, yet ferociously protective when need be.

“I told her she needed to tell you,” Riley says, and nervously drums the fingernails on her right hand against the wine glass clutched tightly in her right. “That it had gone on long enough; her keeping that a secret. That you had the right to know and…”

“I had a right to know WHEN it happened,” Tyler interjects. “What I can’t figure out is why no one realized that then. Why you didn’t tell me. Why you kept it a secret.”

“She asked me not to. Said that it was better if you didn’t know. She was worried what it would do to you; putting that kind of extra worry and stress on you when you were already going through your own shit.”

“And you agreed with her?”

“No. I didn’t. I argued against it, actually. Right away I told her that it was a bad idea; keeping that kind of thing from you.”

“But....”

“But when Esme gets something into her head, it’s hard to sway her from it. You know that better than anyone. You don’t easily change her mind when it’s dead set on something. She was convinced it would be bad for you. That hearing something like that could trigger you and bring on an episode and…”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“She was worried, Tyler. About the issues it might cause. And I told her that you were a lot stronger than she was giving you credit for; you were more than capable of taking care of your shit AND hers. But she was adamant to do things her way and I didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. I didn’t want to make her worse.”

“You should have called me. Right after you got off the phone with her. As soon as she told you how she was feeling, you should have hung and got a hold of me and told me what was going on.”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. She asked me to help her, and I did. I went over to the house and I stayed with her and the kids. I did everything I could to calm her down and talk her off the edge…”

“That should have been MY job. I should have been the one to do all of that.”

“Well you weren’t exactly around, were you. You were thousands of miles away. On a job. A lot of good you could have done being all the way in Brazil. Instead of home with your family.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t do that. Don’t turn this around on me. What I do for a living and how I provide for my family is none of your business. I’m not the same guy I was when I met your sister. I’m not that deep in it anymore.”

“You run a mercenary business. You may not be the one going out there and putting your ass on the line and killing people, but you’re still sending other guys to do it. Your hands aren’t clean, Tyler. Don’t pretend they are. I don’t care what you do or what you used to do. I don’t care how many lives you’ve taken or HOW you took them. But don’t act like you’re innocent. Not with your track record.”

“This isn’t about me or what I do for a living or what I send other people to do. None of that matters. That’s business. It has no bearing on my personal life. I’m not the same guy when I’m working as I am when I’m at home. When I’m a husband and a father. That’s the only thing you should give a shit about. How I treat your sister. And I love her and I will do anything to protect her.”

“You wouldn’t have to do that if you didn’t do what you do,” Riley counters. “ Do you ever stop and think about that? How you wouldn’t have this fear of something happening to her or someone hurting her if you weren’t who you are?”

“I wouldn’t have met Esme if I wasn’t who I am. You seem to forget that part. That she was in it just as much as I was. That she was working WITH me. She’d been in the game for a while; before she ever met me. So she’s not entirely innocent herself, is she. If she had been, she never would have shown up on my doorstep that day. I never would have laid eyes on her. There’d be no us and there’d be no kids. And your sister and those kids? Best damn things that ever happened to me.”

“I don’t deny that. Same way I don’t deny how much you love her. Or that you’d do anything for her. But she asked me to keep it a secret. She wanted to protect you.”

“And you just went along with it.”

“Against my better judgement, yeah, I did. I didn’t call you because I didn’t need your help. I had it under control. I got her calm and off the ledge and…”

“I should have been the one doing all of that. And if you’d just called me…”

“And what? What would you have done? What could you have possibly said that would have been any better than what came out of my mouth? Look, I understand; I get why you’re pissed. She shouldn’t have lied to you. And I told her that.”

“ You should have never kept that from me. You should have told me what happened. The things that she said. That she was that bad off. That she was going to hurt herself.”

“I don’t think she was going to do it. I think she was anxious and panicking and scared and,...”

“It doesn’t matter if she was going to do it or not!” he argues. “The fact she even said it is bad enough. And you should have told her you weren’t going to lie for her. You should have told her to fuck off when she even brought up this bullshit of wanting to protect me. And you should have called me and told me and I would have come home. Right away.”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you. She asked me to help her and keep it a secret and I did. Because she’s my sister.”

“She’s my wife!” he snarls. “The mother of my children. And I’m sorry if it pisses you off that both those things trump her being your sister. Don’t even compare the two. I’m her husband. I had every goddamn right to know what happened!”

“You did,” Riley admits. “But I’ll hold firm that it wasn’t my place to tell you.”

“My wife tells you that she wants to kill herself and you don’t think it’s your place to tell me that? What if you weren’t around, Riley? What if you didn’t live right next door? Or even in Australia.? What if she hadn’t been able to call you for help?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because I DO live there.”

“It fucking matters to me. What if she’d tried to call you and couldn’t get a hold of you? What then? What if she had decided to go through with it? You know what have happened? One of my kids would have found her. They would have wondered why mummy wasn’t up in the morning to make them breakfast and get them off to school. And they would have gone in there and found her. Dead. Kids, Riley. MY kids.”

“I never thought of that. I never…”

“Do you know what that would have done to them? Finding their mother like that? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up for the rest of their life? If they’d seen that?”

Struggling to hold back a flood of tears, she takes a swallow of wine in an attempt to wash away the lump of emotion threatening to choke her. “I just never considered all of that.”

“I know what it’s like to lose your mother. At a really young age. It screwed me up. And it continues to screw me up; everything that came after it and all the bullshit I went through because of my father. And the way I lost her? That was bad enough. But it would have been nowhere like how my kids would have lost their mother.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I never…”

“I had a right to know. As soon as she told you how she felt and what was going through her head? You should have called me. I would have been on the next plane home. There is nothing in this world that is more important than her. Nothing.”

“I know that. I know how you feel about her. I see it every time you look at her. The way you smile at her and always find little ways to touch her. The way you watch her when she talks. I’ve always seen that. And you’re right; I should have called you. But my main concern was taking care of her. Making sure SHE was okay. I did what she asked.”

“What stopped you from telling me after you got her settled? Once you realized she was going to be okay. What stopped you from calling me? Some stupid fucking promise you made to her?”

“It wasn’t a stupid fucking promise. She was trying to protect you. She didn’t want to put it on you. Didn’t want to take the risk of it causing you issues. And I have to say, I agreed with her. To an extent.”

“I’m not some fragile fucking piece of china you have to coddle and keep away from everyone. I’m a grown ass man. And I may be messed up and have mountains of shit I deal with every day, but I am more than capable of taking care of your sister. Of my wife.”

“I know. I know you are. And I’m sorry that it came out this way. That she waited this long to tell you. I’m sorry that…”

“Don’t.” Tyler holds up a hand to silence her.. “Don’t do that. Don’t put all the blame on her. I get where she’s coming from; she’s neurotic and she worries about me and she’s got it in her head that she needs to protect me the same way I do her. Doesn’t matter how many times I tell her I don’t need it or that I don’t want her doing it; she’s going to go ahead with it anyway. But you? Going along with that? When you know what she means to me? How can you stand here and defend this? Act like it’s no big deal that you kept this from me? What the fuck, Riley?”

“I said I was sorry. That you had to find out this way. That it took this long. What more do you want from me?”

“How about admitting you fucked up? That you never should have gone along with it. That you should have called me. How about admitting all THAT?”

“Let’s get something straight, Tyler. You’re not my boss. I’m not one of your ‘guys’. You don’t dictate how I do things. You don’t question my decisions. You don’t chastise me for ‘bad behaviour’. I love you. I think you’re a great guy. In the same way I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Me-Me. I think you’re an amazing husband and an even better father. But you’re my brother in law. That’s it. I have no ties to you other than through my sister and my nieces and nephews. My loyalty lies with Esme. First and foremost. And I’m sorry that you think this is some horrible betrayal. I did what my sister asked. That’s it.”

“What you did was wrong. And you fucking know it. We aren’t just talking about some girl, Riley. We’re talking about my wife. The mother of my children. My SEVEN children. The woman that I love more than anything in this world. Who I love more than I ever thought I could love another human being. Who saved my life. And if you can’t understand why you should have told me…”

A knock comes to the door, followed by the rattling of the handle .“Dad?” TJ’s voice from the other side. “Can I come in?”

“Not right now, mate. Auntie Riley and I are talking about some stuff. That little ears don’t need to hear.”

“Mum wanted me to check on you. To make sure you were alright. You’ve been a little...off...for a few days.”

“Tell your mum I’m okay. That there’s nothing for her to worry about.”

“Yeah...right…” TJ scoffs. “This is mum we’re talking about. She worries no matter what. You think you’d be used to it by now. You’ve only been married to her for like a hundred years.”

“Twelve,” he informs his son. “In October. Feels like it’s been a hundred years some days.”

“I won’t tell her you said that. I know how much you hate sleeping on the couch. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Teej. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Go and get washed up for dinner, okay? Make sure your brothers and sisters do too. Food will be here soon.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“You’re gettin’ as bad as your mum. I’m fine. Everything’s good. Go and do as I said. Tell mum I won’t be much longer.”

“Alright,” TJ reluctantly agrees, and Tyler waits until he hears him walk away; heavy, stomping footsteps across the kitchen floor as he shouts the information from one end of the house to the other.

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree when it comes to this,” Riley says, and downs the remains of her wine. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call you. That my main priority was my sister and not calling you.”

“For the last time, your sister is my wife. And my main priority is her. Twelve and half years. That’s how long I’ve been with her. That’s how long I’ve been going through hell and back with her. FOR her. You don’t even know the half of what we’ve been through together. The crap that we’ve dealt with. I’m the one that’s been there; by her side through every fucking shitty thing that’s been thrown us. I’m the one that’s gotten her through a lot of hard times. The one that’s talked her down and kept her calm. Who’s been stepping up and being there for her no matter what I’m going through. So don’t you stand here and tell me that I couldn’t have done a better job than you when it comes to taking care of MY wife .”

“I could have been there for her too, you know. And I would have been had you NOT moved her all the way to the other side of the goddamn world.”

“You know who you sound like right now? When you say that? I’ll give you three guesses but you’re only going to need one.”

Riley scowls. “Don’t you even go there. I am nothing like her. I’m the one that accepted you into the family. I’m the one that saw how good you were with her. FOR her. I’ve always been on your side, Tyler. Even when everyone else was against you and I ended up getting alienated for it. Kicked out of my own family because I always defended you. Because Esme was happy and in love with you and I could tell you felt the same way about her.”

“So you were on my side. So what? You want some kind of award for it? A fucking cookie? You were a kid, Riley. You weren’t even a senior in high school when we moved to Colorado. You had no clue what happened. Why we had to leave Australia, how we were broke as fuck and ended up living in your folks’ basement. It broke your sister’s heart to leave. We didn’t have much, but we were happy there. Happier than either of us had been in a long time. She had someone that loved her and a beautiful baby girl and she didn’t want much more than that.”

“You’re right. I don’t know the details. I don’t know the reason you guys came back. I WAS a kid. And totally absorbed in my own world. But it didn’t mean that I didn’t care about my sister. Or miss her. That I wasn’t glad she was back.”

“She never wanted to go back to Colorado. That was all me. All my idea. And she went along with it and she tried to make the best of it and it nearly fucking destroyed us. You have no clue how bad things got. The issues that being there caused. How close we came to ending everything. All she ever wanted was to be back in Australia. She would cry about it at night; tell me that she wasn’t happy and that she was worried being back in the States was going to destroy us. And it came close. So fucking close.”

“I didn’t know that. I know that you had some problems. That you started drinking again and got back into the job and the pills and…”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know. That we’ve kept back. From everyone connected to her family. I didn’t just move your sister to the other side of the world. I gave her what she wanted. I busted my ass to make it happen; to get her back there. To get her home. Because that’s where she wanted to be. So don’t fucking pretend you know what we went through and don’t ever accuse me of taking her away from you. Because that’s not what happened. That’s just what you’ve been told.”

“It is,” she admits. “That’s exactly what I was told. I mean, I knew most of it wasn’t true. I knew you weren’t controlling or abusive and that you didn’t force her to go back. I knew you weren’t that kind of guy. But I WAS a kid. And still stupid enough to believe most of the bullshit that was being fed to me.”

“When I say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for your sister, I mean it. They aren’t just empty words. I’m not just saying it to hear myself talk or to make her feel better. I say it because it’s one hundred percent true. And had you called me, I would have been on the first flight home. I would have said ‘fuck the job’ and got on the next plane out of there. So I could help my wife.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I SHOULD have called you. But I was so worried about her and I thought what I was doing was right for her.”

“You played a really dangerous game with my wife’s life. Do you realize that? How badly it all could have backfired on you? How one little thing could have set her off? If you’d just called me, I could have talked her down. I could have gotten her off that ledge. A lot easier and a lot quicker than you did.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t…”

“I DO know that. Because I’m the one that she needed. I’ve always been the one she’s needed. And that’s not just going to stop. Not until I’m dead and buried and I can’t do it anymore. What she wanted at that time and what was best for her, were two totally different things. And the fact you didn’t realize that? That you played this fucking game with her life?”

“That’s not what I was trying to do. At all. I thought I was doing what was best for Esme. That’s what we both want, right? To do what’s best for her?”

“That wasn’t what was best for her. That was possibly the WORST thing for her. I know she’s your sister, but I’ve shared a life with her for more than a decade now. I think I know her a hell of a lot better than you do.”

“Of course you do. What the two of you have? That love? That bond? That’s way more than she’s ever had before. With anyone.”

“Don’t ever play a game like that again, Not when it comes to Esme. You have no idea what it would do to me to lose her. What it would do to my kids. HER kids. So don’t you ever again underestimate my ability to take care of my wife. Don’t you EVER get in between me and her again.”

Riley approaches him; slowly and cautiously, palms raised in both surrender and a plea for calm. “That is NOT what I meant to do. I would NEVER do that. I wasn’t trying to cause issues between the two of you. I was trying to help her. That’s it.”

“Well you almost made an even bigger mess, so…” his words trails off and he takes a step back when she attempts to embrace him. “...don’t do that. Don’t touch me. We’re not back at that point. We won’t be for a while. I’m not the kind of guy that just hugs it out, you know?”

“I’m trying here, Tyler. I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. For the lie to get as far as it did. I told her to tell you. I told her…”

“Oh my god…” he chuckles and shakes his head incredulously. “...you just don’t get it. You either didn’t listen to a goddamn word I said or you don’t give a fuck. You never should have went along with it. It’s as simple as that. You should have called me. So I could take care of my wife. But you didn’t. You fucked up. You caused all of this. Don’t put all the blame on her. I won’t let you do that.”

“Can we at least agree that we both want what’s best for her? That even if we DO make mistakes, all that we really want is what’s best for Esme?”

“I think that’s one thing we CAN agree on.”

“And can we go out there and at least pretend to be friends? I don’t want to make things worse on her. You know she’s struggling. That she’s having a really hard time right now. Can we at least do our best to not make things harder for her?”

“Yeah…” he nods. “...I can do that.”

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t think things through better. But I really did think I was handling it fine. That I was doing what was best for her. For my sister.”

“I know what’s best for her. For my wife. Even more than she does. So I appreciate your help, but I think you need to step back and realize that you don’t know shit. Not when it comes to this kind of thing. Next time...and I hope to hell there isn’t a next time...you call me. Regardless of what she says.”

“I will,” she promises. “I definitely will.”

“This ends here. What we talked about, the things that were said. She doesn’t need to know. It’s better if she doesn’t. If she asks, we had a heated discussion and disagreed on a lot but we got through it. What really happened doesn’t go further from this room. Understand me?”

Riley nods.

“Don’t you ever question my loyalty or my ability to take care of my wife,” he warns, then turns on his heel and heads for the door.

*****

It’s shortly after midnight when she hears his footfalls on the stairs. The sound familiar and comforting; the slight drag of the right leg, the soft creaks as wood shifts and flexes under his weight. Three hours ago he’d gone upstairs to tend to the kids’ bedtime routines; keeping the older yet easily distracted ones on track, giving the littlest their baths and combing out the girls’ hair and helping them into their pyjamas. Since her confession earlier in the day, he’s been even more hands on and attentive than usual. Practically glued to her side and quick with the affection; spontaneous hugs or arms wrapped tightly around her from behind, gentle fingers combing through her hair and tucking it behind her ears, kisses pressed to her forehead or temple or corners of her mouth. Insisting on either helping her with things around the house or refusing to do anything at all; ordering to sit back and relax and let him and the kids take care of her for a change.

While it had been both welcome and appreciated, she’d also been well aware that he’d been overcompensating. Her admittance to thoughts of self harm and suicide not doubt a kick to the gut; opening his eyes to just to the depths and the extent of her own issues, and feeding into his number one fears. It’s always been his worst nightmare; losing her unexpectedly and to something he could have controlled, or at least prevented. Illness and an accident on the road are horrific in their own way; a disease that eats away at her and eventually kills her, or something that suddenly and unexpectedly occurs and snatches her out of his life. But to lose her to something he could have stepped in and stopped is completely unacceptable in his eyes. An assailant he could have fought off or at least prevented from getting closer to her. An action by her own hand would be something he’d never considered. In twelve and a half years she’s never spoken of harming herself; the one who’d had to stop him from taking his own life.

It had definitely blindsided him; how close he’d come to losing her and never even realizing there’d ever been the potential of it. And not being told sooner had devastated him. She’d seen the pain in his eyes; the hurt and the anger and the feeling of betrayal. He’s always stepped up and taken care of her regardless of his own issues and suffering; pushing everything aside to focus solely on her and what she needs.

Her not relying on him in the moment had done more damage than actually carrying on the lie. HE should have been the one she called. Confident he would have been able to calm her down and talk her off the ledge; giving him the time to get home and concentrate on her problems and her needs. And he would have done it; abandoned the job in favour of returning to Australia and focusing solely on her. But she hadn’t been in her right frame of mind; immediately believed that she had to protect HIM.

She definitely regrets THAT decision. And for keeping it a secret as long as she did.

“Hey,” she greets, looking up from the tablet resting on her thighs as he reaches the bottom landing. Clad in a pair of shorts made from cut up sweats and an old and tattered muscle shirt; the fabric littered with messes composed of dried paint, tiny hand prints infused with glitter, and stains made by various baby ‘accidents’ over the years. Hair messy and sticking up in several different directions; a pout curving his lips and the heels of his palms pressing into his weary eyes.

Twelve and half years later and he still brings about so many emotions and reactions. From lust to adoration to love and even melting because of moments of sheer adorableness; this big -and often intimidating- heavily tattooed man that possesses the strength and know how to kill with his bare hands often so cute and pure that her heart -and her hormones- can barely handle it.

“Hey,” Tyler says in return, pausing to lock the front door and set the alarm before switching off the foyer light and padding into the living room. “You’re awake.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you. You’ve been up there for a hell of a long time. I wasn’t sure if you’d crashed hard or been abducted by aliens. Or if you were just avoiding me. Like the plague.”

“Well I’m happy to report that no aliens showed up and anally probed me.”

“Your worst nightmare,” she grins. “Anyone getting anywhere near your ass.”

“I let you near my ass.”

“Let me rephrase it. Anyone exploring your ass with more than a finger.”

“First off, you’re disturbing. Second, I had three little ones fall asleep on me. Before that, one story turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into a dozen. Can you maybe burn all the copies of Goodnight Moon? Can they mysteriously disappear? Because I have been reading that damn thing almost every night for almost twelve years. What’s left of my sanity can’t take it anymore.”

“You know, instead of resorting to burning books, you could always say no to your children.”

"Yeah, not gonna happen.” He drops down heavily beside her. “I did crash, by the way. In Addie’s bed. I just woke up about ten minutes ago. She kicked me right in the nuts. Good thing you don’t want anymore kids.”

“There’s something so cute about that.”

He frowns. “About her kicking me in the balls?”

“No. About you falling asleep there. This big, burly guy with all his tattoos and scars totally crashed in a frilly canopy bed fit for a princess. I would have LOVED a picture of that.”

“Sorry to disappoint. None exist. You don’t get a chance to publicly humiliate me on social media. Not on this night, anyway.” Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, then stretches out his legs and places his bare feet on the coffee table. “And why would I have been avoiding you? What would be the reason for that?”

“Well I did fuck up. HUGE. And I did hurt your feelings. And offend you. All at once.”

“We talked about it. We said shit we needed to say. It’s done. Over with. Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and slides closer to him on the couch; tucking her feet under her body as she snuggles into his side. “Let’s.”

Wrapping an arm around her petite frame, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “What are you doing?”

“Looking up ideas for the backyard.” She holds the tablet up for him to see; an image of a tiny cottage made of distressed white wood and boasting a shingled roof and a sunlight and pink shutters on the windows. “We finally have the opportunity to totally concentrate on it. All the renos out of the way, all the garages and the granny flat are built, the pool house has been redone. Now we can work on other things. What do you think? It’s a she shed. I would LOVE a she shed.”

“That’s what they’re actually called? I’ve been calling them bitch barns.”

“You would,” she frowns, and he chuckles when she digs an elbow into his ribs. “Think you could build it?”

“Shouldn’t be hard. I’ve built a lot more complicated. And if you really DO want one, I’ll get on it. Soon as we get home.”

“I really do. Want one.”

“Then a bitch barn you shall have.”

She scowls.

“She shed,” he quickly corrects. “A SHE SHED you shall have.”

“And I was thinking a fire bowl. For the corner of the first floor deck. Closest to the pool. One of those propane ones. With the coloured glass stones. We could build a seating area around it, maybe get another swing to hang near it.”

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. Just buy what you need or give me a list and I’ll take care of it. You know I really don’t care about this kind of stuff. I mean, it’s not that I don’t. It’s just that I trust you and you always pick out nice shit and it always looks great when it’s done.”

“You really ARE the best husband on earth,” Esme declares, and presses a kiss to the side of his neck; lips covering the scar long ago left behind by Farhad’s bullet and the surgery to repair the vein.

Smiling, he gives her hip a gentle squeeze and then runs her palm over her ribs and up onto her arm. Tightly clasping her shoulder as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I try. All I wanna do is make my girl happy. And if what makes her happy is making the house look nice and wanting it to be beautiful and comfortable for all of us, then I’ll do whatever she needs me to do to make that all happen.”

“You DO trust me,” she chides, and leans forward to set the tablet on the coffee table before once more snuggling into him; arms circling his waist and her head resting on his chest. “How do you know I’m not going to buy stuff you’ll hate? That I’m not going to go crazy with the pastels? Or pink? Addie would LOVE that. We do share a favourite color, after all.”

“First of all, I know how much you love colour. The brighter the better. Second, you’d never do that; just buy stuff that you’ll like. You’ve NEVER done it. Not once in the past twelve and a half years. If you know I’ll hate, you won’t do it. That’s just not how you work.”

“Damn it,” she grumbles, and playfully pinches the sensitive area below his right ribcage. “That’s what I get for being so predictable.”

“It’s not that you’re predictable. It’s just that I know you. Very well. Better than you know yourself sometimes. Isn’t that kind of our ‘thing?’. Knowing one another better than we know ourselves?”

“Been our thing since almost day one. It’s kind of weird, don’t you think? As screwed up and as damaged as we were, we just...I don’t know...took to each other.”

“Is that before or after I tried to choke you out?” he chides.

“It was almost like we’d known each other for years. We knew what the other was thinking, we could express things to one another without even using words. We trusted each other. And it’s not like trust came easily to either of us. But for some reason, we knew we could. We had faith in one another.”

“My instincts told me you were good people. That I COULD trust you. And what do you always say? About how good my instincts are?”

“You have incredible instincts. They’ve never lied to you. At least not as long as I’ve known you. I have to say…” she grins up at him “...I’m quite happy that they thought I was good people.”

“It’s pretty safe to say I’m happy about that too.” Giving her shoulder another squeeze, Tyler slides his arm further up and wraps it around her neck, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her. Nothing urgent nor intense; fingertips and the pad of his thumb repeatedly grazing along her jaw as his lips move slowly and sinuously against hers. Her eyes still closed when he pulls away; the bridge of her nose wrinkling when he presses a kiss to the tip of it. “I feel like ice cream,” he announces. “Want some ice cream?”

“Hmmm…” She tilts her head to the side, crinkles on the bridge of nose deepening as she considers it. “...cheese toast.”

“And ice cream?”

“Why not? You only live once. Do you think we could have sex afterwards? My cramps went away and my period isn’t due for two weeks, so…”

“We can have sex first and then cheese toast and ice cream?”

She frowns. “Naww. Cheese toast first.”

“Are you telling me you’re picking cheese toast over having sex with your husband? Do you realize how hurtful that is? How offended I am?”

“I’m sorry! You know there’s anything in this world that’s better than sex with you. Nothing. But I’m hungry. And...well...this is cheese toast we’re talking about. You know how much I love cheese toast.”

“You claim to love ME, but I dunno…”

Her fingers fidget with loose strands of thread on the neckline of his tank. “Don’t be like that. You damn well know that I love you. Don’t want me at full strength? You don’t want me running on an empty tank do you? Because then I’ll get tired easily and I won’t be at my best and…”

“Won’t bother me. Your best is only at a B plus.”

“B plus! You asshole!” She aggressively ruffles his hair, then laughs when he curls an arm around her waist and dumps her onto her back. “You’re mean,” she dramatically pouts, as he places a foot on the floor and a knee on the couch beside her; palms above her head and pressed flat against the cushion as he looms over her.

“The meanest. But you know what?” He places a small peck on each corner of her mouth, then her lips. “I will still make you your goddamn cheese toast.”

“I knew you loved me,” she says, and then curls two fingers around the chain that dangles around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. Long and deep and intense; legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles locking together at the small of his back.

He grins down at her. “So is this a yes to having sex BEFORE cheese toast and ice cream?”

“It’s a promise to have sex with you AFTER cheese toast and ice cream.”

“Don't do me any favours,” he grumbles playfully, kissing her a final time before reaching around to pry her ankles apart. “You know….” he grimaces at the stiffness in the small of his back as he stands. “...you’re damn lucky you’re so cute. That I love you as much as I do.”

“Yes. Yes I am,” she agrees, and slides off the couch and follows him through the living and dining rooms and into the kitchen. Lending a hand by gathering bowls and spoons from the drainboard next to the sink; carrying them to the island and then perching on the edge of one of the barstools. “They’re all asleep? All the beasts?”

“Every last one. Even Millie and Alannah crashed earlier than usual. That’s a nice change; none of their bloody laughing and raiding the fridge and waking me up at three am.”

“We’re going to have to think about where she is going to go when we get back home. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to keep those two in the same room. I would like to have some semblance of sleep. All the square footage we added and all the rooms we made, and suddenly there is no room at the inn.”

“Could always clean out the garage and make another bedroom in there. It’s only going to be temporary, yeah? She’s not staying with us forever. I hope. I love the kid, but…”

“What about the granny flat? We added one above the new gym but it hasn’t been used yet. Could put her in there.”

“She’s eleven. We are NOT giving an eleven year old her own apartment.”

“What about the den? Downstairs. It WAS a guest room at one point in time. That’s where you stayed. After Dhaka Part Two.”

“I kind of already told Tanner he could use that for his science experiments.” He gives her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“We could always put Brookie in with Addie. I’d say the other way around, but Addie will not give up her princess room. For ANYONE. I don’t even want to attempt trying to convince her to. Brookie won’t give a shit. She’s not attached to things like Addie is. She’d sleep out on the hammock every night if we let her.”

“She’d also do anything for Addie. She told me that Peanut’s her best friend. That that’s why she even agreed to tag along to the American Girl thing. Because Addie is her bestie and she asked Brookie to go with her.”

“One upside to having them close together. Friends for life. Unless one of them turns into a total dick head and completely ruins things.”

“I highly doubt either of our girls are going to turn into ‘he who shall not be named’. Things were always toxic when you were growing up. Our kids aren’t in that same kind of environment. We’re making damn sure of it. We aren’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but…”

“But we aren’t totally fucking up our children. We’re actually giving them a good home. A healthy one. Which is kind of surprising considering most behaviour is learned and neither of us grew up with the healthiest of parent child relationships.”

“We just went the opposite way. Instead of turning out like what we knew, we made sure we didn’t.”

“A lot of people aren’t that lucky, you know. A lot fall into the same patterns. Repeat the same mistakes.”

“Well we aren’t a lot of people, are we. I think we’ve shown that a time or two.”

“Do you remember what Gaspar said? About how two broken people can’t come together and make a whole?”

Tyler frowns. “I try NOT to remember anything he said.”

“He said that they’d only make things worse. Make EACH OTHER worse. I like to think he was wrong.”

“He was wrong about a lot of things. Not just that. Take it from the source, babe. Don’t take anything he said to heart.”

“He seemed a little too invested in what was going on between us. What was it to him? What did it matter whether we were hooking up or not?”

“He was just worried I’d get distracted. That I’d let my feelings take over and forget everything else.”

“More like he was worried your dick would run the show. Not your head. And that would be dangerous.”

“Something like that.”

Popping two pieces of bread into the toaster, he pushes down the level and then turns his back towards it; facing his wife as he leans back against the counter. He’ll never tell her the whole truth; Gaspar attempting to convince him that she was simply using him as a way out of Dhaka. That ‘putting out’, showering a profoundly damaged and lonely man with affection and want, and promising an attempt at a future would guarantee her his full attention ; that he’d stop at nothing to make sure she survived the ordeal. Even before Gaspar had shown all his cards and brought up the ten million dollar deal, Tyler hadn’t believed a word of what he was saying. He hadn’t been in that cramped and squalid hotel room. He didn’t hear the deep and intense conversations that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning; the confessions made and the fears talked about and the tears shed. It hadn’t been just sex. A connection had been made and a foundation laid down. Wrong place, wrong time. Perhaps a little too quick by society’s standards. But it had been nothing like Tyler had ever experienced. And he’d felt no need to either explain that to Gaspar, or defend it.

“Did he say anything to you? About me?”

“Other than he thought I was thinking with the wrong head? No. Not a damn thing.”

“Just the offer.”

Tyler nods.

“He didn’t say anything about me? Even leading up to that? Seems weird. That he’d just bring the offer up out of nowhere.”

“What does it matter? It’s almost thirteen years ago. Why are we even talking about it? About HIM? None of that should matter anymore.

“Just some things made me think about it. Shit that he said to me. When he cornered me in the upstairs. I don’t know what brought it up. Sometimes it happens; it hits me out of nowhere. But you’re right…” She sighs heavily and manages a smile. “...it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it makes you a little testy. Even now. What he did.”

“He’s dead. That’s what he deserved. Makes no sense to go back and dig him up.”

“It doesn’t,” she agrees, and then thankfully changes the subject. “You know, I really need to get my shit together. We go back home in five days and I have done nothing to prepare for it. I’m usually so far ahead of the game by now. Do you realize how much has to be packed away? Things I need to box up and have shipped because we won’t be able to take everything on the plane?”

“Do you realize you’re not the only adult in the house and there’s someone fully prepared to help out? WE have a lot to do. Not just you. We’ll start today.”

“You have your little shopping trip with Desi today,” she reminds him. “No way are you skipping out on that. He’s been going on and on about it for DAYS. He will legit ugly cry if you bail on him.”

“Then we start when I get back. Doubt I’ll be gone that long. You’ve gone shopping with me. In and out in half an hour.”

“You are in for a rude awakening. Going shopping with Desi is a whole other experience in itself. That man LOVES his fashion and his bling and he doesn’t go home until he’s exhausted every square inch of his favourite stores. Takes him half an hour just to decide what side of the store to start on first.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“He wants to play dress up with you. Use you as his little doll. He sees the potential. He’s going to get you into some three thousand dollar suits and some skinny jeans and…”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I wear skinny jeans. What is wrong with the way I dress?”

“Nothing. I don’t care what you wear. You look good in whatever you put on. That being said, I prefer when you’re taking your clothes OFF…”

“I don’t want to be his little plaything. His science experiment. Why can’t I just be who I am? Why do I have to change? As long as you’re not complaining…”

“Like I said, I don’t care what you wear. You always look good. But Desi wants to do this with you. He wants to dress you up and make you look good. Fashionable. He wants to see you in some Huge Boss and some Gucci and some Tom Ford.”

“I’m more comfortable in shit from Target.”

“Just humour him. He’s got amazing fashion sense. It won’t hurt to have a few of Desi’s staples and favourites in your closet. And personally? I’d kill to see you in a pair of skinny jeans. They’d make your ass look incredible. Or even more incredible than it already is. Not to mention you’ve got those crazy, long ass legs.”

“Why don’t you just cut to the chase and say you want me to buy a pair? Because if you want me to…”

“Nope. Has to be your decision. I’m not telling you what to do. But I will say the thought of you in skinny jeans? Totally makes me hot for you. Hotter than you usually make me, And that’s pretty damn hot.”

He stares at her pointedly, then returns to spreading thick layers of Cheese Whiz on two pieces of toast.

“Just saying. They would. Did I not go out and buy TWO sexy outfits for you? To wear on New Year's Eve? Not just one, babe. TWO. And believe me, they are way out of my comfort zone. But it’s what you wanted so I went and found ones I thought you’d find incredibly hot. And just might make you self combust in record time.”

“I’m not supposed to do that until AFTER I get you out of the outfits.”

“You said sexy, so I got sexy. And think about it. Think about how hot you make me on a regular basis. Extremely hot, right? So if I say you in skinny jeans would make me even MORE hot…”

“So if I put them on whenever I want sex, I’ll immediately get it?”

Esme nods. “More than likely.”

“And if I want to add to my mile high club points, I just need to wear them on the plane?”

“If your children aren’t there, yup.”

“Fine.” He sets the plate of toast down in front of her. “I’ll get the damn skinny jeans. But I don’t ever want to hear you say I never do anything nice for you.”

“I never say that to begin with, so…” she tilts her face up towards him, hand on his hip as he leans down to peck her lips.

She never tires of it. The random embraces; wrapping his arms around her from behind while she stands at the stove or the washing machine or while standing in front of the bathroom sink brushing her teeth. Curling an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly into his side during their walks on the beach or always taking her hand while strolling through town. The little unexpected kisses; placed up on her temples or cheeks or the corners of her mouth or dropped onto the top of her head. Even at the dinner table or while sitting on the couch he always finds a way to maintain physical contact; sides of thighs touching or a foot resting against hers, shoulders or elbows lightly pressed together. It had taken years for him to open up to both accepting and giving affection; a childhood wracked with horrendous abuse and no love shown, a first marriage whose novelty had worn off quick and gone cold and stale, years building up walls around his heart to avoid connecting with anyone and therefore preventing the brutal sting of loss.

Out of nowhere it had all come together, and the change in him was like night and day. He didn’t initially stiffen up when embraced and became quick with the touches and the hugs and the kisses. Suddenly comfortable with both verbal and physical expressions of adoration and love. Now she cherishes every single moment of it. Knowing how far he’s come and how hard he’s had to work; so willing to sacrifice personal comfort to be the kind of man he felt she wanted, needed, AND deserved.

“You’re kinda cute, you know that,” she comments, biting into a slice of toast as she watches him; the way the muscles in his arms bulge and twist with even the simple task of scooping ice cream. It never gets old. Seeing the way his body moves and how it feels under her fingertips; hard muscle and smooth skin that boosts a handful of scars of various shapes and sizes.

He casts a grin over his shoulder. “Just kinda?”

“Very cute,” she declares. “And hot. And sexy. And oh so fuckable.”

“All those things rolled into one, huh?”

“You’re quite the catch,” she says, leaning back against him when he stands behind her stool; tilting her head back and smiling up at him as he reaches past her body to set the bowls on the counter. “I lucked out. I knew you had potential. The day I met you in your little shack. I knew a good thing when I saw it.”

“I was half in the bag and feeling pretty damn good from Oxy. Hardly a good thing.”

“Please, you looked so freaking hot. With that shirt tight around your arms and your kick ass haircut and your blue eyes and your nice butt. You know what was REALLY sexy? When your hair would fall across your forehead. That did funny things to my insides.”

“Just back then or…?”

“Still does it to me even now.” She reaches up to push the wayward tresses off her forehead, smiling when he presses a line of kisses down the bridge of her nose. “And I don’t care what you say. You ARE cute. We’re going to forever agree to disagree on this one, But I did, you know. See the potential in you.”

“Let me guess. It was all in my eyes?”

“And your smile. The way you smiled at me was...I don’t know...different. Than the way anyone else ever smiled at me.”

He sidles up beside her, snagging one of the spoons and digging into his ice cream. “Something tells me you’ve had a lot of guys smile at you.”

“Not a lot. A few. But none of them have ever smiled at me the way you do.”

“That’s because they don’t love you. I do.”

“You didn’t love me when you first smiled at me. It was still a different kind of smile.”

“That was a ‘damn she’s cute, I wouldn’t mind banging her’ smile.”

She gives a derisive snort.

“What? You WERE cute. In those little shorts and that tank top and your piercings and your ink. I was impressed. And for the record, I DID want to bang you. Right away. You were fresh meat.”

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes and tears a piece of toast off with her teeth.

“You were. I’d never seen you before. You just showed up on my doorstep. Like this little present being delivered just for me. And I hadn’t sex in four months, so….”

“Poor baby. My heart bleeds for you.”

“You were a new face, had a wicked little body on you, a tongue ring. Is it any wonder why I wanted to rail you?”

“That’s all I was to you. Fresh meat. A new piece of ass.”

“At first. But then I got to know you and everything changed. Very quickly, I might add.”

“It was rather quick,” Esme admits. “Do you ever regret it? How quickly it DID happen?”

“What guy in their right mind is going to regret banging you?”

“I don’t mean the sex. I mean everything else. The whole quiet stuff afterwards. The cuddling and…”

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight. You cuddled up to me.”

“Tyler, give it a rest. It’s been twelve and a half years. I’ve known for a long time that you actually enjoy cuddling. And you’re a master at it. You enjoyed it that first night. You hung back a bit, but you gave in pretty quick.”

“I don’t know…” he shrugs, and a slight blush creeps into his cheeks and the tips of ears. “...I was comfortable with you. It felt...nice.”

“Are you blushing? You are! Baby…” she stands on the bottom rung of the stool and presses a kiss to his temple. “...you’re so freaking adorable.”

He frowns, gently using his elbow to push her away. “Stop it.”

“Blushing. With your wife. Who you’ve known for more than a decade. Who is the last person you should get embarrassed in front of.”

“Esme…”

“Why would you be embarrassed? Tae…” she nuzzles his cheek with the tip of her nose, then sits back down on the stool. “...God I love you.”

“I don’t like talking about this stuff. The...I don’t know...emotional stuff. I can talk about sex all day, every day. But THAT? The other stuff that went down between us?”

“That other stuff was amazing and beautiful. And totally not what I expected from you. That’s what made it so great. This big, muscly, tattooed and scarred up mercenary being so cuddly and spilling his guts and crying to me and…”

“Oh fuck…” he groans. “....can we not do this? Talk about this stuff? Please?”

“I’m just saying that the after stuff? That was pretty amazing too. And you don’t need to be embarrassed about it. I mean, you ended up marrying the person you did all that stuff with. You’ve had kids with her. Seven of them. You don’t have to be embarrassed about that stuff. About anything, actually.”

“It’s just not who I am. Even now. I don’t talk about that stuff. I’m not comfortable with it.”

“Even with me?”

“It’s nothing to do with you. I just get..I don’t know...weirded out. I liked it, alright. Being like that with you. It had been a long time since I’d done anything even remotely like that. And it felt good. It felt right. YOU felt right.”

“Strange, huh? Totally wrong place, totally wrong time. But it felt so good.”

“It did,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.. “And I don’t regret a damn thing about it. About you. About us.”

Smiling, she curls an arm around his waist and leans into him; hand repeatedly stroking his lower back as she takes turns delving into her ice cream and enjoying the cheese toast. The silence between them has never been awkward; neither ever feeling the need to fill the minutes with mindless chit chat. It’s companionable and it’s relaxing; the close proximity of their bodies and their familiar smells is its own form of intimacy. It’s the comfortableness that exists between two people that have seen each other at every stage of their lives. The lowest of the lowest and the highest of the highs . Grieving AND celebrating. Bloodied, battered and broken and in near perfect health. Who’ve experienced the miracle of birth and the devastation of loss. Who had seen each other at their very worst right at the start, yet still chose one another. And STILL keep choosing each other. Every day. Regardless of the pain and obstacles thrown in their direction.

*****

“It’s weird that Riley and Sheana left so soon after dinner,” Esme breaks the silence, pushing her empty plate away; using the spoon to swirl now melting ice cream around in the bowl. “I thought they’d stay longer. They usually do.”

“Probably just tired. It’s a long flight. Sometimes we handle it well, other times we feel like complete and utter shit for a couple days.”

“Is it wrong that I’m glad they decided to stay at a hotel this time? I love my sister. And Shaena. Dearly. But I can not handle any more extra people in this house. Not when we’ve got so much to do and Ovi’s wedding is right around the corner. House guests are the last thing I need to be dealing with.”

“I was thinking I’m more glad they chose the hotel because I didn’t want to hear them getting busy. Weird, considering the kind of porn I used to watch. When I was single and having to tend to my own business all the time.”

“Oh please. You probably had all kinds of Sheilas on speed dial. And USED to watch? You STILL watch that stuff.”

“I’ll have you know, that I haven’t watched any that doesn’t involve me and you….or just you...in years. Why do I need to? I’m married to a goddess. Why watch fake shit when I watch the real stuff? It’s got the most beautiful girl in the world in it. The woman I love. What’s hotter than that?”

‘“You have issues, you know that?”

“If my issue is that I love and lust you, then yeah. I guess I do. I DO have issues. And trust me, babe. Those videos? Fucking amazing. Gets the job done. In record time.”

“Oh God,” Esme groans. “I do NOT need to hear this.”

He leans into her, playfully nudging her with his elbow. “Do you want to watch them with me? Tonight? Get you in the mood?”

“You think that’s what it takes for me to get in the mood?”

“No. I know it doesn’t take much for me to get you there. It would just be really hot. Watching them with you. Do something nice for me.”

“I do plenty of nice things for you. Who went from once a year butt stuff to near daily?”

“But you like that though. That’s why you give it up more. Just watch it with me. Just one of them. And then we’ll make another one. On New Year's Eve.”

Sighing heavily, she shakes her head. “Remind me again why I married you?”

“Because I dick you down like no one else ever has. And because of my eyes. And my butt. Probably my voice too.”

“The whole trifecta. Eyes, butt, voice.”

“And because you love me,” he adds, and lightly and teasingly ruffles her hair. “That’s the main reason.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I DO love you. Despite what’s in my best interests. And you’re right; Shaena and Riley DO get a little...wild.”

“And loud. Very loud.”

“You realize we do too, right? That we can be insanely loud.”

“No. YOU can be insanely loud. You’re the loud one.”

“Yeah, you’re the groaner and the growler and the swearer, I forgot.” She spoons the remains of the ice cream into her mouth. “I still think they left way too early. Totally uncharacteristic of them. Did everything go okay? When you talked to her?”

“Best as can be expected, I guess.”

“You totally lost your shit on her, didn’t you.”

“Did you hear me yelling?” He gathers up the empty bowls and carries them to the sink. “Throwing shit around?”

“You long ago mastered the art of losing your shit WITHOUT doing any of that.” She swivels her seat around; watching as he rinses the dishes and cutlery and then loads them into the dishwasher. “Tyler James…”

Smirking, he dries his palms on the thighs of his shorts. “Esme Michelle…”

“You did, didn’t you? Lost it.”

“I may have been a little harsh. No more than she was.”

“Riley harsh? Never.”

Leaning back against the dishwasher, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I said what I needed to say.”

“Which was?”

“I told her that you ‘fessed up. About the whole fake girls weekend thing. And I said I was pissed. That she didn’t call me. Let me know what was going on. That I had a right to know that my wife was in a crisis.”

“I wasn’t in a crisis. I was…”

“I had a right to know,” he forcibly repeats. “My wife calls her sister and says she wants to kill herself? That is definitely something I should have been told.”

“She only kept it quiet because I asked her to. I made her promise not to tell you. I was worried; I didn’t want you going off the deep end hearing something like that. I didn’t want you spiralling because I was.”

“You think I’m THAT weak? That I couldn’t handle hearing that?”

“I don’t think you’re weak at all. I’ve never thought that. You’re the strongest person I know. In every possible way. But I didn’t want to put something else on you. You were away on job. You needed to stay focused on it. It was your priority.”

“YOU’RE my priority,” he retorts. “ There’s not a job in this world that could EVER be more important. In fact, other than my kids? NOTHING is more important than you. You never should have asked Riley to lie for you. You shouldn’t have put that on her. That wasn’t fair to her.”

“I know,” Esme admits. “But I wasn’t exactly in my right mind, was I. And at that time, keeping it from you seemed like the best thing. For everyone. I didn’t want to add more to your plate. The business was just starting to really take off and things were crazy busy and you had a lot going on. I didn’t want to give you more to deal with. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You’re my wife. You could never be a burden. If you’d called me, I would have gotten on the next plane home. I would have talked you down and got you off that ledge and I would have come back to Australia. You know I would have.”

“I do know you would have. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want all that extra on you. You were busy and…”

“I am never too busy when it comes to my family,” he interjects. “You are the most important thing in my life. Nothing else comes close. And I know you think you need to protect me, but I am more than capable of handling things like this. When I have I not stepped up? When I have not shoved my own shit aside to take care of you? When have I not been there when you needed me?”

“You’ve always stepped up. You’ve always put everything aside for me. I’m not arguing that. I’m not saying you wouldn’t have come home or that you wouldn’t have dropped everything to get back to me. I KNOW you would have. But I wasn’t in my right mind. It was telling me I needed to keep it from you. For all the reasons I’ve told you over and over again. It wasn’t to hurt you, Tyler. I would never, EVER, hurt you.”

“Well it did hurt,” he confesses. “A lot. The fact you turned to her instead of me.”

“She was right next door. You were thousands of miles away,” Esme attempts to reason. “I needed help right there and then.”

“And I would have helped you. If you’d called. But you didn’t. You didn’t even give me the chance.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was scared and I was panicking and I just acted in the moment. That’s it. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I wasn’t thinking ‘hey, let’s find a way to hurt Tyler’s feelings’. Because I would never do that and you know it.”

“She should have called me. You might not have been in your right mind, but she was. And she should have gotten a hold of me. That’s what I told her.”

“And what did she say?”

“That she did what her sister asked. That that’s where her loyalty lies. With you. And I told her that you being my wife and the mother of my kids totally trumps the relationship she has with you. What if you’d never gotten a hold of her? What if that pushed you right over the edge and you had done something?”

“I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was freaking out and my brain was all messed up. I wasn’t thinking rationally.”

“One of our kids would have found you. And I can’t stop thinking about that. The fact you wouldn’t have been around in the morning and one of them would have went looking for you and they would have found you. Do you know what that would have done to them? Seeing that? That’s your kids. MY kids.”

“What do you want me to say, Tyler? I’ve already said I was sorry. Do you want to say it a million times more? Because I will. Yeah, I should have called. And when I WAS in the right frame of mind again, I realized how badly I fucked up. Because in the end, it was you that I wanted. It was you I wanted taking care of me. Not Riley. Not some stupid psychiatric hospital. YOU.”

“I can’t pretend that it didn’t bother me. That it didn’t hurt. The fact you didn’t trust me with it. With you.”

“You have that right. To be hurt. And I’m sorry. Because that is NOT what I meant to do. I would never pick anyone over you. EVER. And I’m sorry I did. If I could go back, I’d do everything differently. But I can’t. And I know you’re hurt and you’re pissed and you probably hate me right now…”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I love you. Which is I wanted to be the one to take care of you. Because I DO love you. We’re supposed to be a team, Esme. We’re supposed to be in this together. And sometimes….I don’t know...sometimes I don’t think you’re as invested in that part of things as I am.”

“That’s not fair. I have given everything to you. Right from the beginning. I was willing to give up my life for you. On that bridge. I gave up my family. Any friends I had. I moved to a country on the other side of the world. I started a whole new existence. For you.”

“I didn’t hold a gun to your head,” he reminds her. “ You made the decisions you did on your own.”

“Because I was in love with you. Because I wanted to be with you. But I still gave everything up. And I feel like I keep giving and giving and giving. And I’m scared one day there’s going to be nothing left to give. Then what? I won’t be of any use to you. Or our kids. “

“So somehow it’s my fault? That you keep giving and giving? Like you’re the only one that’s being doing that? I gave up things too. Most of them I needed to. The booze, the Oxy, the living in some crappy little shack in the outback. Those needed to go. But I also gave up everything I knew for you. I walked away from the job. TWICE. And I know I got sucked back in…”

“It wasn’t your fault. You had no control over that.”

“...but I started that business for you. Because you didn’t want me going out there anymore. You didn’t want me getting my hands dirty. Putting myself in the fire.”

“Do you blame me? Tyler, you have a wife. You have SEVEN kids! Why would you risk yourself when you have so much to lose? Especially when you’re not a hundred percent. You know damn well you’re not where you were thirteen years ago. You’ve admitted that yourself. Why would you go out there under those circumstances? Leave your family? People who love you? Why would you…?”

“Because I’m a selfish bastard, Esme. Just like everyone says I am. Have you ever thought maybe they’re right? That I really AM that person?”

“You’re not. You’re selfless, if anything. You’re not who they say you are. You never have been. Where is this coming from? I thought we were talking about Riley? How did it turn into being about us? Into a fight? How…?”

“I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m not.”

She valiantly holds back a flood of tears. “It sure as hell feels like you are.”

He finally approaches her. Crossing the room in two long strides and gathering her in his embrace; one hand resting on the small of her back and the other buried in her hair. “I’m sorry.” Gentle pressure draws her head into his chest; fingertips softly massaging her scalp. “I didn’t mean to take shit out on you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. But I was angry. I still am. More at her than you. You weren’t thinking right. She was. She knew better.”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she turns her teary face up towards him. “She was just doing what I asked. And at the time it seemed like the right thing. I’d give anything to go back and do things differently.”

“Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.”

“I know I hurt you. I never meant to. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. For making you cry. I fucking HATE when you cry.”

“I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Crying. I think it’s my hormones. Oh God..." she chews anxiously on her bottom lip. "...maybe I’m starting menopause.”

“Or maybe you’re just married to a humongous asshole.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re not THAT big of an asshole.”

He stares down at her pointedly.

“You are a bit of one. You know you are. So don’t look at me like that.”

“Yet here you are,” he uses the front of his muscle to clear the tears off her cheeks and wipe her runny nose. “Twelve and a half years later. Putting up with it.”

“The sex is good. Really good. Really, really, REALLY good.”

“I knew it. Just using me for my body. And my dick.”

“That’s it,” she sniffles. “That’s all it’s ever been about. Your body and your penis.”

“You know, I’m just enough in love with you to accept that. And put up with it.”

“I love you. More than you could ever know. I love you more and more every day. Please tell me you never doubt that.”

“I don’t,” he assures her, then gently cradles her face in his palms and presses a tender kiss to her lips. “And I never will.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth extraction #Chris Hemsworth Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake x OFC #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Esme and Tyler series

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Sorry for the radio silence, had to take a bit of time off to finish coursework and stuff. I would like to get through this arc sooner rather than later, so here’s to hoping nothing else keeps me away.

(Also, just recently read someone’s twitter thread going through the same early content as I did, only with the original japanese printed manga, and I continue to be frustrated at my lack of knowledge of japanese language / culture that keeps me from accessing the root material. VIZ translation is just… not the same. orz)

[No. 19 - All Might]

We start out with an overhead view of All Might being held and the nomu being frozen in place under him (and halfway through the portal itself.) All Might comments on it being frosty, and concludes without looking that the source of said frost must be Todoroki - who is in fact nearby, with the ice trailing along the ground starting from under his right foot.

All Might mentally admires the precise control, and how Todoroki just managed to avoid freezing All Might along with the nomu, and how thanks to that, the nomu’s grip is loosened. While he’s thinking that, All Might yanks himself out of the nomu’s grip and away, his side still trailing a bit of blood.

(Actually, I wonder if this was the moment that All Might was thinking back on when he approached Endeavor during the sports festival to try and get tips for teaching the next generation. After all, Izuku’s main issue at this point in the story is his lack of control over a strong quirk, and All Might isn’t aware of the Todoroki Family Drama™ just yet.)

The next page is a double spread that’s basically a showdown between the hero side and villain side.

I find it interesting that the two ‘leaders’ of the situation are on the opposite page of the spread from their helpers / minions, as well as how Shigaraki is on the opposite page from the heroes. When looking at it in a book proper (and not a scan on a webpage), this would give an even stronger sense of the divide between the sides in more than one way. The whole division between heroes and villains is also highlighted with the hero side all being on top - showing how the advantage has swung their way - while the bottom shows the villains who are all in bad positions now.

Oh man, you can also see the little teeny hero students watching from the top of the stairs - with just enough detail that you can tell the one in the front is supposed to be Ochako!

On the very left side of the spread, we see Shigaraki comment on how the villains’ way out is pinned down, and considers it a problem. Not a huge one, mind you, since he’s not really reacting much.

Katsuki straightens his arm out as he starts mocking the villains for slipping up, and how it was just like he thought - the parts that Kurogiri can turn foggy in the warp gate are limited, and he uses the mist to hide his real body. We get a brief flashback to a few chapters ago, when Katsuki first attacked Kurogiri and the villain commented that ‘that was a close one,’ before present Katsuki continues to explain his observations - if Kurogiri’s whole body was mist and physical attacks, then Kurogiri would never have said something like that.

Friendly reminder that this is not the last time we’re going to see that Katsuki’s just as much a quirk nerd as Izuku is. Probably saw Izuku’s skill at it as a challenge to overcome or something.

Kurogiri groans and turns his head to stare at Katsuki. Katsuki tells him not to move, and that if he decides the villain is doing anything fishy, he’ll blow him straight to kingdom come.

Kirishima has about the right of it. That slasher smile, though, jesus kid, relax.

Shigaraki comments on how not only have the heroes beaten the level, they’re all at full health. Today’s kids are really something - the league of villains should be ashamed! I feel like this is sort of pseudo-thoughtful and pseudo-mocking. Which I mean is basically all of his speech patterns as far as I can tell, so. Anyways, he turns to the nomu and tells it to take out ‘the explosive brat,’ since they need their escape route back.

Shouto is shocked, and it’s not hard to tell why, as the nomu literally pulls itself out of the portal, losing most of its frozen right side as the deep-frozen bits literally crack and crumble away.

...and I just realized that if Shouto had done that to a normal human, that person would likely be dead from intense frostbite from how cold he had to make that ice to literally freeze the limbs deeply enough for them to crumble like that. Or maybe the nomu was designed to reject damaged material and regenerate, and so the damage was only just enough to hinder and not kill? Either way, Shouto is fucking intense, man. Like, jesus kid, calm down a bit.

Izuku comments on how the nomu’s body is falling apart, but still moving. All Might has his arm out as he warns everyone back, before directing a comment to the villains that he thought the nomu’s quirk was shock absorption. As we see the nomu’s right side bulge and warp horrifically, Shigaraki states that he doesn’t remember saying that’s all the nomu can do, and that this (referring to the bulging new muscle and skin forming) is hyper-regeneration. He then states that the nomu is a super-powered living sandbag designed to withstand everything All Might has got, while the nomu charges in with its newly reformed limbs.

And so we get to another pretty awesome double spread:

(I had to pull this from a fan translation site because the site I generally use had this split up into two pages, which was a mess to look at and parse. The dialogue is basically the same though, besides Katsuki calling Izuku an idiot. In the VIZ translation, he just tells Izuku to shut up.)

But yeah, you can see the force of the nomu’s retaliatory punch in how it literally sends All Might flying back and the excess causing a brief windstorm. Truly designed to be All Might’s equal, that. Also, I suppose this is one scene where it’s hard to really convey how fast everything was happening in a manga format - like here, it seems like the nomu was just slow enough that Katsuki was starting to react, but with how fast the nomu and All Might are supposed to be here, I feel like he shouldn’t have had that time? I mean, I know this is just him finishing the reaction to Shigaraki’s words and not the nomu’s movement, but still.

Interesting as well to see how Izuku somehow first assumed Katsuki was fast enough to dodge the nomu, instead of assuming All Might did something the way he did when he was saving Izuku and the others from Shigaraki and the nomu. Izuku’s brain really is just in ‘kacchan sugoi’ mode at almost all times.

We next see the smoke from the damage of the attack clear enough to see All Might at the end, his feet having dug grooves in the ground in order to slow himself down before he hit a wall. His arms are braced for defense, and show the scrapes that he ended up taking from the force of the blow. He coughs up a bit more blood as he comments on how the nomu doesn’t know how to hold back.

Meanwhile, Shigaraki notes that All Might took the hit for the kid. Out loud, he replies ‘anything to save a comrade, right?’ He then points to Izuku and notes how it’s like earlier, when ‘the plain one’ came at him with everything he had. But violence in the name of saving others is admirable, isn’t it?

Shigaraki throws out his hands as he states how that pisses him off. Heroes and villains both thrive on violence, but one is considered good and the other evil. He mocked All Might’s ‘symbol of peace’ title, stating that the hero is just a tool for violence to keep ‘us’ down. (Dunno whether he is referring to villains or just people in general.) He then says that violence only breeds more violence, and he’ll show the world that by killing him.

All Might calls it a load of hooey (I bet he wanted to say bullshit, but was mindful of the kids being there), stating that idealistic criminals have a different sort of fire in their eyes. Shigaraki? He’s just enjoying himself.

Shigaraki doesn’t disagree.

(Man, I continue to be impressed with how well Hori is able to convey emotion just through the eyes. He really does seem gleeful at the situation.)

Anyways, I’m gonna call it here, even if there’s not really a ‘break’ in the action. See y’all next time for (heavy spoilers) All Might kicking the nomu’s ass.

#chapter 19 #USJ Arc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #readthrough #yagi toshinori #shigaraki tomura #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #nomu #todoroki shouto #I would note that the spoilers thing is a joke #also the start of the ongoing trend of BNHA villains actually having a kernel of a legitimate point #except they're also extremists and murderers so like maybe they need chill pills #like yeah yeah down with the government #but have you all possibly considered therapy #or at leasy yoga or something

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arethereanyoriginalusernames · 3 years

Text

I’m sorry

I’m sorry to my followers, my mutuals, and most of all, to put I call friends. I’m so, so sorry

I know at least one person’s going to want to reblog this, saying that I’m not a shitty person. Well, this post is for you I guess. I hate just being here, trying to convince myself and others that I’m a good person, but really I’m not. I’ve ruined potential friendships and actual friendships over and over again. All because I want people to validate me, because I want people to pay attention to me, because I think that what I think needs to be shared with everyone.

I’ve wasted people’s energy, time, and I think I might have ruined at least one person’s offline life because I thought I could help them when I had no place to do so.

If for whatever reason you don’t think I’m awful after this, well I guess I can’t stop you. But I hope that this might finally get people to recognize that I’m not someone worth supporting. Enjoy my content if you want, but don’t pretend that I am, by myself, an enjoyable person.

1. My “contribution” to the Zoophobia fandom

You know, there’s nothing on my blog that I’m more ashamed of than my Zoophobia critiques? Back when I first started on tumblr, my pretentious ass thought that I was going to be super special and become “a zp critic who didn’t hate Vivziepop and enjoyed her content”.

Yes, I was that up my own ass.

At the time, the only zp critics I knew of were the ones on the bad wiki forums and the late Zoophobia Critiques account. Which, for the record, I still agree that a lot of the criticism gave there was super spiteful and overblown. I gave the excuse that we could learn how to improve our own writing by analyzing works we love when I was criticizing a 4 and a half chapter webcomic the creator wasn’t proud of.

You know, I’m at a loss for how nobody has called my critiques out for being misinformed, disorganized, poorly spelt, and like someone who just heard of writing criticism and was parroting stuff they heard on a YouTube video. My criticism of how Addison’s ptsd was handled was disgusting, and my criticism of Jack was vague and was clearly a reach.

And my non critical Zoophobia content wasn’t even that good. I made a bunch of nothing posts that only discussed a couple or one character ever, and they were so stupid.

Then there’s how I acted during the pre Hazbin Hotel Vivziepop drama. You know, where I acted like a deluded three year old? Voicing “my concerns”, and totally not babbling a bunch of nonsense and pushing it onto others. I remember how one former mutual of mine, Lisaury, rightfully “burst my bubble” (that’s how they put it) by pointing out my flawed information.

I honestly don’t blame Lisaury for never talking to me again. God, I barely spoke to her to begin with. Just sent her worthless post after worthless post.

My “criticisms” of Vivziepop were idiotic at best, and now? Zoophobia and criticism of it may have resurfaced thanks to Bad Luck Jack, but this only made me realize how nothing my posts were.

Other critics would just call me a wishy washy sheep, and fans would rightfully see me as an idiot if I posted now what I posted then. Ever since the short, I’ve been fearful of someone finally pointing out my bullshit, making it clear to everyone how awful my content was. And I feared it because I knew it was true. I just didn’t want other people to realize it.

Fuck, you’d at least expect someone to notice how much of a dickhead I was when critiquing people’s fanfics.

2. Art / characters

In 2020, someone invited me to join an art discord, and I created an account to do so. This discord had actual artists, many who had been to art school. So when my self taught, delusional self posted art into a criticism channel, they rightfully tore it to shreds. Called it out for the lacklustre, mediocre anime garbage it was. Gave me advice, and pointed out exactly what was wrong with it. One person made a very accurate description of it. “It looks like something someone drew on those shitty phone apps without a pencil”. And they were right.

And how did I react?

I had a meltdown, deleted a bunch of my art and posts, ran crying to a bunch of people, desperate for validation, because I, someone who made criticism posts, couldn’t handle actual criticism. And the same group rightfully called me out on it. I lost the log in info for my first account, so I don’t interact with that group anymore, but I should have listened. They rightfully pointed out how all my male characters looked like traps and how my art lacked any artistic skill. And what did I do? I screenshoted what they said and showed it to others, like “omg, pity me!”

I can’t look at my old art without wanting to vomit. I still can’t understand how anyone can enjoy what I make, despite people telling me that they do. Especially when they make better art than I ever could.

And despite how shit it looks, I just shove art and all posts I make in people’s face, because they “have to look at it and pay attention to it”

3. Such a great “friend”

I don’t have conversations with people anymore. The majority of my Tumblr conversations are filled with me sending post after post after post, weeks with just my fucking stupid posts, because they totally matter so much. I barely have any conversations with anyone anymore, and I don’t even return the favour of reblogging their content. Because after all, I need my friends with bigger follow counts to reblog my stuff. That’s the only way my posts get attention and I get validation, after all. Seriously, look at posts reblogged by eclecticcoyote, and compare the notes there to those he doesn’t.

If I didn’t constantly send people like him posts, expecting a reblog, I probably wouldn’t have followers. I know my content wouldn’t get any attention without his help, and I feel disgusting because it just feels like I’m taking advantage of someone’s audience.

Although it’s probably better I don’t talk to people whatsoever. One friend I have... well had, I don’t expect him to contact me ever again. I’ll refer to him as B for now. B was dealing with issues related to his mental health and offline life. I initially reached out to him after he made a post about having no friends

And then I didn’t message him for a while and was surprised when he told coyote that he felt like I didn’t care about him.

I started crying at him like “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” (no I’m not kidding). I ended up talking with him through several emotional break downs, because I didn’t want him to kill himself. I had the nerve to talk like I knew what I was talking about during those times. I gave unhelpful advice, like “go for a run”, “punch a pillow”, etc. Hell, one time, I had the audacity to say that it felt impossible to talk to him because it didn’t seem like he wanted to listen to people trying to help him, and that he only heard what he wanted to hear.

And I shoved my personal issues onto him as well. Because, again, my life is so important.

Then, at some point he developed feelings for me. I don’t feel the same way about him. And at this point, he sees me as one of the people who have helped him out the most with his issues (ironic, considering how I likely just made his life worse). So, what did I do when he confessed to me?

Oh, you know, instead of being mature and responsible, I panicked, got another friend involved because “I don’t know how to deal with this 😭😭😭”, made B upset and depressed all over again, and I basically got someone else involved in what was a personal moment for him, betraying his trust and throwing privacy out the window.

I tried to apologize the next morning, but it was too late. I honestly hope he doesn’t try to contact me again, and realize that I have, and can only make his life worse.

I constantly keep freezing out friendships on here by not actually talking to people and just sending them post after post. Recently, one person who reached out to me and tried to be my friend? Looking at past conversations with her, I come off as disinterested in her and dismissive. I might not have intended to, but...

Oh, and then Coyote invited me to his discord server. I recently started deleting all my posts on there, so that nobody would have to waste time scrolling through my bullshit. I shit you not, I would go on essay long tangents about my characters and art, while, comparatively, the attention I gave to others’ content was close to none. And in the first couple months there? I still tried to help people when I clearly couldn’t.

For fucks sake, I even dragged people there into my own personal irl drama when they didn’t need it. The night I self harmed in front of my parents, I should have kept it to myself because I. Knew. That people there would become distressed by it. But nope, because my problems are so important.

I would say dumb shit that ended up upsetting people, I would post over people, and overall just act like a self entitled, annoying bitch.

Just yesterday? Someone I considered my friend shared an image of some characters of hers that were in a polyamourous relationship. And what did my dumbass do?

“You know, I find people in poly relationships admirable bc I have trouble hanging out with more than one person irl bc lol social anxiety and lalala, lemme make this all about meee~!”

And then someone replied saying that they don’t understand poly relationships but support them, then I’m pretty sure the who posted the picture got uncomfortable at that point.

And wouldn’t you know it, recently that person announced that they were taking a break, which hey fine, and they mentioned that some of the stuff said on the discord was upsetting them.

Gee, I wonder who contributed to that?

And then there’s my constant validation seeking, me being silly during situations where the person needs me to be serious, my overall inability to respond in a way someone should whenever people don’t enjoy things I suggest or share...

Look, maybe I’m overreacting and being stupid. Wouldn’t surprise me. I currently have no friends outside of discord and tumblr, and I’m constantly disappointing my family and everyone around me by always failing at everything no matter what.

I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I don’t even know if this is just me attempting to get validation or what.

I just... can’t do anything. I can’t trust myself to do anything. If someone requests that I do something, then fine I guess, but

I don’t want to hurt anyone else

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svt-writers-club · 4 years

Note

Ask games #5: 10 and 39 for Jicheol in Emotional Hurt/Comfort trope please and thank you 😊

the sudden influx of jicheol asks is making me think that my birthday came early and i’m living for this. hope you don’t mind that i slipped in a little iron man au here, because it’s been a while since i talked about those kooky bois and emotional hurt/comfort fits them so well

also hi! i know it’s been like a year since i wrote anything, but i’ve been going through some stuff. i’m better now, though! and i’ll be working on some stuff so hopefully i can add more to this blog!

#10. “You’ve… never really looked at me that way now, did you?”#39. “I never say it. But… I do appreciate it.”

Jihoon is dying.

He’s dying and he’s… he’s okay with that.

Well, not really okay. There’s no feasible way for a man to be completely content with death. But he’s… he’s adjusted. He’s known for two months now, so he’s been getting his affairs in order.

He’s trying to, at least.

He has a multi-billion dollar company to give to an heir, weapons that he can’t afford to leave lying around lest the government makes use of it and all his babies. His binary babies, like WooJI and Dokyeom. He can’t just give them away to anyone.

“Sir?” WooJI demurs. “Your heart rate is spiking again.”

Jihoon lets his head loll off the arm of his sofa. His workshop is a mess, half-complete inventions littering the vast work top. He can’t bring himself to finish anything, thoughts scattered between his impending demise and the lethargy the palladium poisoning brings.

“I’m fine,” Jihoon sighs. He shields his eyes with his forearm in a weak attempt to alleviate his killer headache. Between stressing over Wonwoo’s new armour and his babies, he’s at his wit’s end. For once, his brain is failing him.

High-pitched beeping has Jihoon shifting, squinting up at the camera he’d placed on Dokyeom’s head almost a decade ago. In its claw, there’s a dark green smoothie. It doesn’t even look like there’s oil in it this time.

“Did you make that yourself, buddy?” Jihoon murmurs. Dokyeom beeps an affirmative, attempting to press the smoothie into Jihoon’s hand again.

One of these days, Jihoon will have to tell Seokmin he named his dumbest and oldest bot after his high school nickname. One day. (Maybe he’ll do it in the goodbye videos he’s planning to make. His oldest friends deserve that much, he thinks.)

Dokyeom beeps insistently again. Jihoon takes the glass and, under the bot’s watchful camera, takes a sip. It’s disgusting, but in the way all health drinks are disgusting.

Jihoon forces a smile. “It’s good, dude. You did really well.”

Dokyeom does a happy little spin, even managing to show off the new treads WooJI had ordered for him. They fit him well. Jihoon makes sure to tell Dokyeon that he looks very handsome. (He doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance.)

“Sir?”

WooJI’s voice is lower, like he’s worried about Jihoon. He snorts. Only he would be able to program worry into an AI.

“I’m fine,” Jihoon reflexively says, as his chest twinges.

He stumbles over to the floor length mirror he had installed recently. He let Seungcheol believe it was for purely narcissistic reasons, but it’s actually so he can monitor the darkening veins creeping out from the arc reactor in his chest.

It looks worse. Darker, and more sinister. Like death himself has injected poison into Jihoon’s veins to claim him.

WooJI lets out a warning chime. “Seungcheol-ssi is heading into the basement.”

Jihoon lets out a heavy sigh that sticks in his throat, dropping the hem of his shirt.

God. Seungcheol.

What’s he going to do with him? His highly competent assistant, who’s been with him through work binges, playing around, Afghanistan and betrayals. The only man who makes his blood pressure rise that has nothing to do with anger or exasperation. Jihoon has been so careful to keep his messy life away from Seungcheol, but it’s all rushing together and he can’t keep up. For once in his life, he’s lagging behind, exactly when he doesn’t want it to.

The door slides open, Seungcheol’s feet exaggeratedly loud as he stomps to Jihoon’s work desk and slams a newspaper down onto the surface.

“What’s this?” Jihoon asks, trying to force some levity as he picks the newspaper up between two fingers. “This is a relic. People still read newspapers?”

Seungcheol jabs at the front page headline. “Only as long as people keep writing news!”

Iron Man Back To His Old Ways?

There’s a truly unflattering picture of Jihoon, fully clothed, floating on his back in a pool. Jihoon doesn’t quite remember when that was (these days, he tries his hardest to get drunk and stay drunk, in between trying medications), but Wonwoo can be seen on the edge of the pool, yelling at him. He thinks it might have been at the last weapons conference he’d attended. Jihoon tilts the newspaper; wow, the photographer really managed to highlight that one vein that pops out when Wonwoo is pissed.

“Keep a scan of this,” Jihoon says distractedly. “I want to email it to Wonwoo.”

“Right away, sir.”

“No,” Seungcheol says vehemently, snatching the paper out of Jihoon’s hands. “This is serious! You told me when you got the suit that you were going to change.”

“I did. I am changed.” Jihoon bites his tongue. He can’t tell Seungcheol about the palladium poisoning. It would do nothing but make him sad.

Seungcheol’s gaze makes him feel three inches tall. The vitriol in his voice is barely disguised as he enunciates, “Clearly.”

“Seungcheol-ssi.”

The scowl on Seungcheol’s face has no business being as gorgeous as it is now. Jihoon finds himself memorising the angle of Seungcheol’s lips, the exact curve of his frown and the colour of his lips.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. “Yes, Jihoon-ssi?”

He clasps his hands politely, back straight. The perfect picture of professionalism. Jihoon could never match that, so he settles for running his fingers through his hair so it’s not that big of a mess.

Jihoon pulls out a folder from one of his drawers, the one that has been burning a hole in his mind since the first time he asked WooJI to get them printed. He had to do it old school – with papers, instead of electronically. Old-fashioned, but undeniably legitimate.

“If you could do me a favour and sign these,” Jihoon says casually.

He’d been hoping Seungcheol would just sign the papers, too annoyed with Jihoon about the PR disaster that he knowingly caused.

He should know better than to underestimate Seungcheol’s intelligence. He’s more than just a pretty face, after all.

Seungcheol makes a strange expression. “This is an employment contract,” he says slowly.

“Yeah. You know, bureaucratic bullshit.”

“This is an employment contract for being CEO of Lee Group.” Seungcheol pauses deliberately. “That’s your company.”

“It was my father’s company,” Jihoon snaps, before he can stop himself.

Seungcheol blinks, rearing back like a wounded animal. He slowly places the folder back on the table. “I can’t accept that. I’m not qualified.”

“You’ve handled my accounts from the moment I hired you as my personal assistant, and you’re basically running the company already.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows draw an angry V on his forehead. “So you’re, what, shunting all the boring stuff to me so you can – can fuck around and go back to your old ways?”

“No.” Jihoon takes a deep breath. “It’s because you’re competent and I’m not. I can’t run a company. I’m an engineer, not a business man. Do you understand?”

Seungcheol continues looking at him blankly.

“What is is this time?” Jihoon sighs.

“Nothing,” Seungcheol says. He’s still frowning. “You’ve… never really looked at me that way now, did you?”

“Like what?”

“Like… like you need me.”

Jihoon chokes on Dokyeom’s healthy shake. He coughs and coughs, even when his airway is clear and he can breathe just fine. He coughs because it’s so true, that he needs Seungcheol the way he needs to tinker in his workshop or the way he needs to breathe and it’s okay, he swears the tears are from nearly choking to death, nothing else –

“You’re a mess,” Seungcheol says helplessly, after Jihoon calms down and he can find the composure to dry the tears from his eyes. The warmth of his hands leave momentarily, but a cup of cold water is pressed to his hands.

Seungcheol’s touch is nice, especially where he’s running the back of Jihoon’s neck while he drinks his water.

“What would you do without me?” Seungcheol says, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Jihoon clings to it, remembers the exact timbre, the exact note. He wants to play it again and again, until it’s ingrained in the grooves of his brain even when he’s long gone.

“I would be infinitely worse off,” Jihoon says with a forced grin.

Seungcheol reaches for the folder, tapping it against the table top. “I’m shredding this.”

“No!” Jihoon clasps his hand over Seungcheol’s, squeezing lightly. “Just – sleep on it. Maybe it won’t look so bad in the morning. The benefits are killer.”

Seungcheol looks down at their joined hands. Then, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll sleep on it.” He bites his lip. “You get some sleep too. You’re looking more and more like a panda lately.”

Jihoon can’t sleep. He’ll sleep when he’s dead. He doesn’t have that many waking hours left. But the worried look in Seungcheol’s eyes has him saying, “Yeah, I’ll sleep.”

“Good.”

Seungcheol takes the folder and the newspaper, stopping to pet Dokyeom on the camera. The bot beeps happily, circling around Seungcheol quickly. Maybe Seungcheol and Wonwoo can have joint custody. Jihoon makes a mental note to update his will.

“Hey,” Jihoon calls out, right before Seungcheol crosses the threshold outside of his workshop.

Seungcheol pauses, looking over his shoulder with a questioning look.

“I never say it,” Jihoon says, “but… I do appreciate it.”

Seungcheol’s smile is as confused as it is beautiful. Jihoon wishes he was an artist, so he could paint Seungcheol the way he looks now.

“Appreciate what?”

“Everything.” Jihoon clears his throat, turning to his holo screens. “That you do for me, I mean.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Seungcheol. It feels too raw – like something he never should have said. But it’s out there now, so he can’t take it back. Because it’s true.

It’s true that Jihoon appreciates him and he wants to tell him, but there are so many words that he can’t put them together. So he’ll give him his company and set him up for life, because Seungcheol is competent and beautiful and he’ll be just fine without Jihoon.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol says softly. “And… I appreciate too.” Before Jihoon can fool himself, Seungcheol continues, “You’re a great boss, Jihoon-ssi.”

Jihoon smiles – a fake, plastic smile he reserves for cameras. “And you’ll be a wonderful CEO, Seungcheol-ssi.”

Jihoon sits in silence for a while, staring at Wonwoo’s suit schematics blankly. He feels regret. He feels empty. There’s so much that needs to be done before his time is up.

“WooJI?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Start recording me. End of The World Protocol.”

“As you wish, sir. Who would you like to start with?”

Jihoon thinks – really thinks. He reaches out for the trophy Seungcheol had stubbornly left for him, the day after he’d called the arc reactor that got him out of Afghanistan obsolete.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

#seventeen #svt #shy boop #serrauthor replies #serrauthor ask game no. 5 #iron man AU #s.coups #scoups #seungcheol #woozi #jihoon #jicheol #coupzi #this was more emotional hurt than comfort #yikes #one day i'll write stupid fluff about these two #one day #i'm back guys!#kinda

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i-am-parsec · 3 years

Text

11/02/2020

Hey, so...I had a bit of a crisis a couple days ago and now I’m here, writing again. I think I can still picture your smug look whenever I’d admit I was “wrong”, even if my memory is very unreliable these days, I can still see it and I know for a fact that’s the look you’re giving me right now. You little shit.

Um, they are probably not gonna like reading that. They don’t like it when I “pretend I can actually communicate with my missing, most likely already dead ex husband”. Weird, right? Like I don’t see how that would disturb them, ha.

I suppose I now should explain to you who “they” are. I’m talking about my doctors, Dr. Richard Willson and Dr. Alexandra Freias, who, little fun fact, my sister hired solely on the basis of her being 1. A woman and 2. Latina. I guess she thought I’d “bond” better with someone who looked more like, but the funny bit is that Dr. Freias’ mother is Russian and she looks like a photocopy of her mother. What I’m trying is that, not only was my sister’s idea dumb, she also did a terrible job at executing it because my doctor looks white as hell. She is nice, though, and I’m grateful about that. And no, Dr. Freias, I am not writing that just so you’ll forgive me for destroying your brand new phone yesterday but yes, I am very sorry about that, or at least as sorry as I can be these days and I promise my dumb sister will replace it as soon as possible.

I’m gonna have to get used to the idea of these letters having a bigger audience than before. In the sake of my little agreement with my lovely health professionals, I’ll be open and honest and admit...I don’t like it, it makes me uncomfortable to share this, my only safe space, with people who are basically strangers to me, but I am aware this decision was taken for the sake of everyone's peace of mind. When I’m writing, I’m focused, more relaxed, less prone to spiral down after Dr. Willson gives me a mocking look and sighs at the mention of your name, Chase, so this is a good thing: I get to talk to you and my doctors get a bit of insight on what’s going on inside my mind without me losing my shit and breaking everything around me, something they claim to desperately need.

I am a woman of my word, so I will continue this little daily exercise if that is what everyone thinks is best for me, even if I can’t help but laugh at the idea that this might give them any kind of extra data about me or you or anything related to this mess our lives have been for the past couple of years. I’ve already told them everything, from the very beginning. They refuse to listen, I refuse to give in and spew the nonsense they are trying to feed me instead of the truth I already know, then we all get frustrated and eventually...we start the cycle again. Circles, we are just going on and on in these fucking circles and it does annoy me, but I guess I have accepted it to a certain degree - I’m stuck. This is my life now, an eternal retelling of the hell I’m trapped into, while being trapped within said hell.

I am lost here, Chase, lost and blind. But I keep moving, even if I know how it is all going to end, I still walk. I walk towards you, mi amor. You are my North, my compass in a world without poles, paths or direction. Ever since we were kids I’ve been doing that. You gave me purpose in a pointless world, a home in a deserted land, a glimmer of Hope among absolute darkness...so I’ll do my part, I’ll take my medicine, I’ll go to my appointments, I’ll write my letters. I’ll be good, I swear, for you, for the kids, for my sister - who bends over and backwards for me, even if I can’t seem to forgive her-, hell, even for my doctors, who refuse to actually listen to me but also refuse to give up.

Oh, before I go, in case you were wondering why I had the mental breakdown: I was telling the doctors about our wedding and it hit me that it was the 31st. I got quiet for a second, a bit teary and informed them that that day would have been our ten year anniversary. I laughed when Dr. Freias pointed out that we got married on Halloween and told her it was on purpose, that you love this holiday so much that you begged me for months to let you proclaim your undying love for me in front of our few friends, both of us being in full costume in our tiny backyard.

That’s when it all went sideways. “Undying love”. Dr. Willson just had to remind me with a smirk that we are divorced. I would like to explain in more detail what happened after that but truth be told, I don’t know. Last thing I remember was staring at him, my whole body shaking and then, dropping under water. It's a familiar sensation by now, but it never gets less disturbing or less violating. When I was back in control of my body, the room was a mess, I had three men holding me down and Dr. Willson’s forehead was bleeding.

I do not forgive him for the unnecessary remark about my civil status but I do regret, greatly, ever hurting him and I appreciate him not quitting. I don’t know why he wouldn't, I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with a new smug asshole who thinks they have the right pill and therapy combination to fix my unfixable brain. At this point in my life, I will always rather stick with the devil I know than the devil I don’t, and besides, Richard is no devil. I should know.

It’s late now, almost 8, so I’ll send this to Dr. Freias and be on my way to bed. See you there, my love.

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

Link to all the chapters in chronological order, here. Link to the last chapter, if you can even call it that, here.

Well. Here’s the thing. I am too broke for therapy and too uninspired to write anything original that could probably be more nurturing to my soul than a fanfic that I started 2 years ago...so I’m here, back to my bullshit. And also, Sean is finally dropping some new crispy fresh ego content so I guess...I’m doing this. I’ll be posting daily, the quality will be shit, there might be no actual progress to the plot and it is going to be mainly me just using Stacy to vent. I have little to nothing going on in my life right now, and I vaguely remember I used to get joy from writing so in order to get even the slightest bit of serotonin, I set myself the goal of writing everyday, no word minimum or special prompt in mind, I’m just going to write, and if it’s good, great and if nobody reads, fine. I’m just trying to get back whatever pieces of myself I can find, which I think is a feeling this character can very much relate to. That might be why I’m returning to her.

Or maybe it’s the fact that I was very invested in her before I fell in love and then I was so engrossed in my relationship that I completely forgot about her and then I had my heart broken in a million tiny pieces, losing any kind of sense of self or purpose in life and now, almost six months after my first real breakup, I’m trying to rebuild myself and I secretly hope that going back to Stacy, a character that was very dear to me, I can find whatever it is that I’m looking for. Maybe, but who’s to say?

Anyway, if you read all of that bullshit (and I mean the whole post, not just my after-chapter ranting), I feel like I owe you some kind of reimbursement for emotional damages. Sadly, I’m poor, so all I can offer you are memes. You can slide on my DMs for your payment of memes. Do not feel the need to ask me how I’m doing, I am doing Fine...in the sense of I will not be yeeting myself from a rooftop any time soon, no matter how sad I might sound, I’m just a whiny bitch using writing as a coping mechanism. I’m okay, like not really, super mega hyper ok but I’m ok. If you’re concerned, I appreciate you but don’t be. I’m writing to deal with my feelings, that’s like, healthy, right? So yeah, we good.

see u tomorrow

❤️Tag list❤️: @amyxmiaplay @beckofthewoods @closedworldofmathiel @darktrash-drash @fanfictionrecommendations-com @flyingfishflopsthings @fruitycasket @hiimizzyxoxo @hishex @scarlet-mangata @mcomegalletas @mijako98 @mysterious-cupcake-ninja @mysticalanimallover @novasingalaxies @plutoandpolaris @probablyghosting @randomartdudette @saltyweirdbi @scarlet--raven @septicuniverse @skyewardlight @thevampireauthoress @youllnevertaketheskyfromme @rats-this-username-is-taken

#Stacy Brody #Chase Brody #Jacksepticeye #Antisepticeye #Unaddressed Letters

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meibemeibelline · 4 years

Text

part 3 (FINAL) of highlights from that 32k word doc i wrote when i marathoned gazette songs (2012-2018)

PART 1 | PART 2

once again:

This is a combo of thoughts on music, lyrics and other random things I wrote while listening. Not every song will be featured, sorry.

I sometimes directly quote translations and when I do, I’ll specify whose it was. Here are the masterposts of lyrics by Heresiarchy , Defective Tragedy and Trauma Radio

I will write song titles for which there are warnings in bold and all caps

So this part will be a bit different because mental health and The Band became really prominent themes in their music in a way it wasn’t really before, so rather than simply writing about songs as they come, I do (attempt to) connect some dots between songs and albums

Also this is REALLY LONG (~5k words)

If you read any of these posts, thank you <3

CONTENT WARNINGS: murder (In Blossom), reference to abuse (In Blossom), suicide/suicidal thoughts (Kagefumi, Deux/Blemish), reference to PTSD (Incubus). Overall LOTS of discussions about mental health.

buckle up folks it’s gonna be a long one

So I listened to Division according to the limited edition version where the songs got split into the ‘story-like songs’ and the ‘hype songs’. Just while we’re on that, I like to think that Vein is the story part because these songs (the blood) are meant to go TO our hearts, while Artery, which is the ‘raw emotion’, is the heart doing the talking and supplying the oxygen that will do its thing. LIKE HEADBANGING.

“Ibitsu is not the first song they’ve written about changes in the music industry, but it’s quite different from others like 13Stairs[-]1 and Dim Scene. They were quite angry about the state of things, lamenting it. But here, Ruki is writing his and the band’s place in all of that. It’s like in the other two songs he’s like, “wow look at all this rubble. This sucks.” But in Ibitsu he’s writing about how he’s also in that rubble and thinks about what HE feels about it in relation to himself and the GazettE. And I find that quite interesting. Also hell YES imagery – skies as ideals, the world around them collapsing into ruin, the band as a flower amidst the rubble that can’t reach the sky. It sounds like he’s trying to navigate how he’s supposed to move forward when his ideals and what’s happening in the industry oppose each other quite a lot. He doesn’t reach an answer in this song and ends by asking whether it is actually in ruins or whether he’s just afraid of change, I think.” - interestingly, he uses this same imagery in Kuroku Sunda Sora to Zangai to Katahane to write about anxiety and not feeling good enough.

Quick disclaimer on KAGEFUMI: I do want to say first that I’m talking about this purely as a piece of art. Not as in, like, “this is peak romance”, but just as an artwork I can have Opinions™ about, even if they’re possibly in disagreement with that of the creator. “The shadow tag metaphor for a couple committing double suicide meaning that they’re ‘becoming one’ and being together in death is A Lot. There’s an incredibly strong belief in an afterlife where they can be together makes (what Ruki describes) this stronger bond between them that literally lasts or even transcends the boundaries between life and death, rather than a tragic end (unlike Tokyo Shinjuu). Musically, I love this song and think it’s gorgeous, the way it’s sad yet hopeful. We over here with that bittersweet stuff again but lyrically it’s a WILDLY different route than others before it.”

“Yoin is such a heavy end to disc 1. The ending lines, “The sea of loss / Understanding of helplessness / That day we grieved” about the Tohoku earthquake/tsunami and the nuclear disaster is just so ……. And not only that, but how even though people still struggle to survive, people are moving on like it’s a thing of the past. It’s SO heavy.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“I think [Derangement] is about a massive internal struggle between wanting longing for the past, knowing it won’t come back, but also wanting to destroy the past out of self-hatred. There are aspects of the past, perhaps ambition and drive for example, that are good, but other parts that are not. It’s almost like a continuation of Remember the Urge but like…angrier and with more hatred towards his own past rather than only the longing of it. Which is also really interesting.” – this is definitely one of the themes that comes up A LOT from now, ESPECIALLY in Ninth. We’ll get to that.

“IS KAI GOOD??? That man is NOT human. I swear to god his drums in Required Malfunction are INSANE. ANYWAY, this song is about how people cannot be perfect and we all have flaws, especially in the context of relationships. I like that even though people argue and butt heads sometimes, there’s that Japanese verse where he sings “Let’s send a song without stains / to that innocence without lies / so you can swallow those wounds” and the last lines “Because you are always here, I can advance” to mean like…them being together can ultimately make them better and it can be a good relationship (if they work on it, imo). Also, I love the language he uses here – viruses and malfunctions and inputs – a very non-human way to write about human relationships.” (Cr: Trauma Radio)

(Dripping Insanity) “Solitude drenched in red laughs / in the insanity dripping in silence” is SUCH a good line yes hello I appreciate this. (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“EYYY HAVEN’T HEARD FORBIDDEN BEAVER IN FOREVER. At first I was wondering if this might be judgmental but honestly? I think this is satirical, especially from the line “May the truth you spew on taboos going frantically around / Shred the rhythm of high society”. Like the fact they’re gossiping about a famous woman who has a lot of sex and just TARNISHING her name bc of it, to Ruki, is a load of bullshit. Also, some of the lyrics in the chorus are funny coming from Ruki – “She has a sex addiction / Bang! Bang! / Cute luv machine” – like he does NOT ever write like this and this song is just a huge satirical joke I’m YELLING.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“The transition from Malformed Box to Inside Beast >>>>”

“[Inside Beast] is definitely about having a ‘beast’ inside you that’s like all your demons and ugly feelings and to let them all out. He wrote about demons in Derangement, but the way he writes about acceptance is like…empowering and freeing. Not necessarily through words but through the music and just how hard this song slaps.”

“I really love the lyrics of [Until it Burns Out] and its whole thing about valuing the time they have as a band and to be together making music precisely because it’s going to end someday, and it’s going to be their last shot at living their dreams, which is to make music and perform TOGETHER as the GazettE. Like that’s so meaningful, and powerful in the way they just…grab it by the fucking throat. Breaking down the walls that hold them back, TOGETHER, towards the future in which they see their dreams. Like they’re not letting this be the end. They won’t allow it. UGH. UGHHH. The middle eight is so beautiful and I love the lines “The light that colours this irreplaceable scenery / burns the significance of standing here into me / Until the last” like they just love performing SO MUCH UGGGHHH FEELINGS”. (Cr: Trauma Radio)

“[REDO] IS SO GODDAMN SENTIMENTAL I’M IN MY FEELINGSSSSS. Kai being the composer, I can’t help but feel this is him paying homage to jazz, which is the music his mother plays and he loves her so so much. I’m probably reaching but THAT’S JUST HOW I FEEL.”

“EVERBODY SHUT UPPPP IT’S LAST HEAVEN TIMEEEE. It’s so gd gorgeous and sweet. I’M GETTING REALLY EMO WHAT THE FUCKKKK. BRUH. BRUUUUHHH. THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL //THROWS. SHUT UPPPP. TOO MANY SKY, STAR AND FOREVER REFERENCES FOR THIS TO BE OKAY BITCH. This is Ruki’s love song to the cosmos, wishing to be eternal like the stars but acknowledging that all he can do is chase it knowing his life will end, BUT THAT THEY DON’T HAVE TO GRIEVE BECAUSE THEY WILL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE IN SOME WAY WE /ARE/ ETERNAL. IT’S LOVING AND INNOCENT AND WISTFUL. This song is the goddess to all the GazettE love songs. THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK. “The distant sky, this infinite moment / I now wish from the visible stars / in this youthful merry-go-round / that continues to turn endlessly / I want to be eternal like you” – is just…such a beautiful image. “Let’s stay like this, having dreams we cannot reach / Long road which leads to the calm hill / I go, leaving my sadness behind / Good night…my beloved / Last heaven of mine” – it’s yearning but it’s the yearning for LIFE. And to leave behind sadness…Ruki very rarely writes about pain like this. And to call the ‘beloved’ his last heaven, the last thing in his life that’s just THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO HIM AND THE THING HE WANTS TO BE ETERNAL WITH goodbye………GOODBYE. “Love without shape changing day by day / Close together / we become / one shooting star” – AAAHHH AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. Also, for him to say ‘memento mori’ which means “Remember, you must die” in the middle eight of a song about wanting to be eternal just gives the entire sentiment a new meaning ;-;” (Cr: Trauma Radio)

“There’s a particular sound to Division and Beautiful Deformity (but more in BD). It sounds like rushing water. Loss in particular sounds like this. Like, the sound isn’t just ‘dark’ and ‘heavy’, it moves A LOT and there is sooo much emotionality in the songs on this album. It’s really dynamic.”

“The Stupid Tiny Insect revisits the theme of inner demons. Specifically, in this song it sounds like negative internal self-talk. It’s interesting though, the way that Ruki writes it as an entirely separate being to how he writes inner demons and whatnot in other songs, where it’s either another entity within a person that is part of them OR just…themselves. Here, they are VERY separate, and that probably allows him to feel and express rage instead of helplessness or confusion. I also love the reference to pretending to be okay – “I get high on delusion / And act as if I made them die out / ‘Just like a summer moth to a flame”.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“IN BLOSSOM is pretty fucking brilliant lyrically imo. It reminds me a lot of 32 Koukei no Pistol in that a protagonist who was abused/neglected by the parents kills them, and in the latter’s case only, also themselves. Some other differences: In Blossom is WAY angrier (and a lot more loaded) and the protagonist is trying to ‘make their own life’ (even if the way they choose to do that DOESN’T WORK), whereas the narrator in 32 Calibre Pistol was mostly lamenting that they’ve ‘lost their way’ and deep-down were wishing for their family to be happy together. I can’t say WHY that is. But it’s interesting that in In Blossom, the abuse just…DESTROYED their concept of family that they used to believe in entirely, and the fact they cannot separate themselves from their abusers neither by dying nor killing them is A Lot. So, they try to free themselves and ‘get hope’ by killing their abusers as revenge (“Die away, along with these wounds I’d counted”), but it doesn’t bring them happiness or heal them (“Even if I slash so much it’s unparalleled by the wounds I’d counted, it still starts to ache / It doesn’t even fight off the decay, much less heal me”). It’s very much saying that despite pain, revenge is not the answer. I also love the line “They adorn vividly – have blossomed beautifully / The sun that has started to set makes sure of it” to describe the wounds as the narrator kills their abusers and their loss of sanity as they do so.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“To Dazzling Darkness is about that moment when a concert is over and the lights start to come on. It’s so gorgeous. This is sort of like, the other side of Until it Burns Out. If UIBO is about the band then TDD is about the fans, and the band’s place in the world. I love the imagery in the first verse – darkness is usually associated with bad things, but here darkness is peace, escapism and unity that are part of the happiness of a concert, while the light symbolises the continuation of life. The scenery here is the same scenery in UIBO, which is the scenery of a concert that this band cherishes. There’s also the acknowledgement that time is fleeting and nothing is forever. Like, this is really the other side of the coin and I love it.”

“Dogma defines their new (2015) sound so well, which is HEAVY AND DIRTY AS FUCK. Like, it is SO conceptual and experimental and the painting is just GORGEOUS. I love the harpsichord in this song – as the predecessor of the piano, it was used in a lot of churches and religious music in the Baroque period (1600-1750ish), so using it here in a song where the band is likened to idols (the religious type) is super cool. And to combine it with these really low and heavy guitars just gives the DARKEST image.

And there’s so much going on in the lyrics – MANY MOTIFS, MANY MEANINGS. They bring back the concept of darkness as a symbol for escape from harsh life and of unity during concerts. As for death, Reita has an iconic quote where he said something along the lines of: “we often say in lives ‘to die’, but what we actually mean is to live. Live and be free”. I see death for GazettE as a kind of transformation – and end, yet also a beginning to become something or someone new.

Ruki hasn’t really mentioned god since Ogre in Dim, in which he basically wrote “idk if God exists but I don’t really care – all I need is me”. But here he likens the band to an idol of worship. We as the fans worship the GazettE, and they are also gods to us, their followers, in the sense that they provide us with life and unity (referred to here as death and darkness, respectively). The GazettE as a band brings darkness and death to the world (with their own meanings, of course).

This is also a song about the band breaking away from current gods and dogmas of the music industry, and from its greed. I also love the line, “The rite I must face is cloaked in darkness and isolation” – this process of their journey to finding their truth is lonely, and no one but them can do it for themselves. To do so also isolates them from everything they once knew. It’s them navigating what is expected of them by the masses and those they work with vs doing what they want without getting shunned for it.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“DAWN IS ABOUT REDISCOVERING THEMSELVES. I love the number of metaphors he brings back in this song – 13 stairs, death, merry-go-rounds and again dogma. Death here is about the transformation of them as a band, which occurs at the top of the 13 stairs to the gallows. And I find that so interesting because he uses the image of gallows (eg: 13 Stairs[-]1 and Forbidden Beaver) as like…an actual Death that means the end of a genre or a person’s reputation, but here it’s a place of transformation. In Last Heaven, the merry-go-round is a symbol of life – it comes back here but this time it’s red instead of blue (youthful) and is paired with the image of a mad banquet with emotions running wild (ie concerts). Basically, this is about the band’s life and, like, their life being about concerts. My favourite part is “Overcoming a period of confusion, I took those stirring emotions / And hung them up high on the 13 stairs” because there’s also the line “I’ve already had a lethal dose of misfortune / The ruined gallows towers above me” -> WE WENT THROUGH SOME SHIT BUT WE FOUND OURSELVES AND SURPRISE BITCH, BET YOU THOUGHT YOU’D SEEN THE LAST OF ME.” (Cr1: Heresiarchy, Cr2: Defective Tragedy)

Not from my notes directly but I feel like the difference between Bizarre to Juuyonsai no Knife (ie the only two songs about Real juvenile criminals) is a REALLY good representation of how Ruki’s lyrics have changed over the years. He went from taking perspectives of people who perpetrators of violence (to write horror stories, imo, but also to generally Explore their minds through art) to making comments about society and how systems affect people in real life. Not to say he doesn’t write about killers anymore or that social commentary is NEW for him, but just…a big change in what’s PROMINENT.

“Interesting that Wasteland is next, which is about Justice on the Internet. I know Ruki has always been really critical of the internet and the kind of social processes that occur online (see: Nakigahara) and here it’s about morality and justice, but more importantly the way it’s about crowd mindsets and CONTROL. And he just summarises it SO WELL in the first verse: “The thousand eyes that can kill even God / Transform into rebels that lust for control / If the time comes when right and wrong disappear / It will all end with a blood-red moon”. There’s also the line “Innocence gives way to sinful judgment” ie the innocent go along with their ways or it’s the innocent (the weak, as he says later) that are scrutinised. And I think about this a lot considering…some other fandoms I’m in >.>” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(INCUBUS) “The song is a lot of wondering what they did to deserve their trauma and how they want the dreams/nightmares to go away. I do like that at the end of the song they come to the conclusion that they cannot change what happened and decide “fuck the why”, accepting they didn’t deserve it. Even though the narrator is still stuck in the maze (of trauma), the letting go of asking why it happened is like, a really important step in healing. Because it’s the end of self-blame. So, I hope narrator can heal :( “

(DEUX) “My dumbass never realised this but the music of Deux itself has DUALITY. Metal with solo piano. IT REALLY TOOK ME FIVE YEARS TO REALISE THAT HUH. It’s about two conflicting selves (which to me sound more like intrusive thoughts, considering Blemish’s VERY LOUD “These days I’m better dead”) and the effect that has on like, your emotionality and how it leads to loneliness. His use of nightmares in this song is fascinating – the Japanese word he uses (sakayume) is like…a reverse dream, like if a child has a nightmare you tell them it’s a sakayume so it means what happened in their dream definitely won’t happen AND something good will happen instead. And this is something Ruki prays for.”

(Ominous) “The imagery is really dark in this – “A prayer crushed under wreckage / Reflects in your eyes as you start to fly / I see you in the sky thick with shadows / Spinning around with nightmares” – there’s a desperate attempt to fly and get better and do Well but still they’re surrounded by darkness and nightmares, unable to escape. “Don’t forget that a heart cannot die / Don’t forget that dreams aren’t predictions of the future” –There’s hopefulness in a heart not dying yet a very strong despair when he says dreams don’t predict the future, not even reverse dreams. “It steals away my still-unformed future, and whenever I step forth / I can’t see a thing in that shadowed sky / My screaming can’t save anything / when I’m killing myself with sadness” – oh that hurts, that hurts A LOT. He wants to fly but he can’t. This is just SO MUCH. And they didn’t even have an instrumental outro, IT JUST ENDS WITH ACCEPTANCE OF HOPELESSNESS AND DEPRESSION.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“The drums in Goddess uggghhh UGGGHHH. AND THE GUITAR TOOOOOO. Lyrically, this is really a mid-point between depression and healing. It’s A Lot. He writes about his suffering, wanting to make something of his mistakes and his sins and actually WANTING TO LIVE. But it’s so sad that in the end he still feels really helpless – the subtle changes between “I want to become the stars that fill the silence” vs “I can’t become the stars that fill the silence”. But I think that on some level he knows what the next step is. He wishes in the last two lines, “If only I could share my grief that can’t be put to words / If only I could face reality and live accepting my crippling despair”. THAT’S THE FIRST STEP!!!! THAT’S A STEP!!!! TO HEALING!!!! “These bleak thoughts are my sacrifice that will one day begin to thaw into a selfless, smiling heart” – this line is fucking LOADED. Like, he sacrifices his bleak thoughts by expressing them and by making art out of his pain in hopes that he will be able to acknowledge and accept his suffering and his pain as a means to heal, as a way of allowing him to have a selfless and smiling heart. Like, this is SO much of what his art is about and what it has been for SUCH a long time it makes me so emotional that this is what he’s saying about his own lyrics.” I realise too that the goddess is likely the same goddess from Blemish. I’m still unsure what to make of it because Blemish ends in Ruki writing he doesn’t wants to be reborn, and not abandoned. But here he ends with wanting to heal. Wanting to move on and live.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO UNDYING.

“WHEN HE BROUGHT BACK “SLEEP, COUNT ME DOWN AGAIN” >>> God, this song is so powerful. THERE ARE SO MANY CALL-BACKS TO DOGMA. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN THIS BUT STILL. BITCH WHAT THE FUCK. It’s a direct continuation of Ominous (“I won’t arise from this”). I think in this song he’s becoming that figure that is flying in Ominous, and the one that is surrounded by nightmares and shadows – the first verses are about how the future is drenched in misfortune yet we must continue to live (and suffer, but WE CAN AT LEAST BE A BIT HOPEFUL). Ruki says this YET HE IS STILL DREAMING, EVEN AS THE END COMES (“My heart starts to disappear along with the spirit of my words / And though it knew the end was near / It dreamt of things it shouldn’t want / And even now I am still—“). There’s also his mentions of sins again that he continues to drown in :( But overall, this song is really about living despite all the pain, which is really meaningful after Dogma ended on such a note of hopelessness. There’s so much power in this song.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“Vacant doesn’t necessarily sound like a romantic relationship breaking down as much as it is about making a mistake and being unable to fix it between you and someone else (or other people), even if Ruki said he wrote it with a band’s image in mind. But the gist is is that there is yet again a struggle within the self (“Self-condemnation distorts the answer / And I lose sight of what I should be / Because of those unconscious actions / I can’t even dream”). The line “In the pain of not being able to tie back the undone thread / The traces left by stopping time keep piling up” really got to me – being stuck in time and constantly wishing for something that was and being hurt by the fact it’s gone is something I personally relate to. But even as the narrator is stuck in time, their grip on the past is loosening – they are forgetting, memories fade, and they lose their strength (“Vacant, you are withering”).” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

(Faling) ““Together, embracing the same pain: it’s only temporary / Don’t forget that this is not the end / So come on, let’s open our eyes and fall / We just believe in ourselves to die / Sometimes it’s okay to be broken” THIS MEANS SO FUCKING MUCH AFTER THE AMOUNT OF TIMES RUKI ENDED DOGMA SONGS WITH HOPELESSNESS AND AT BEST “WE HAVE TO KEEP LIVING AND SUFFERING AND BEING IN PAIN” BUT IN FALLING, PAIN IS TEMPORARY. PAIN IS TEMPORARY. WE WILL HEAL, BITCH. WE WILL GET BETTER, BITCH.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

Can’t find my notes bc it’s somewhere else in my Tumblr drafts but basically: I consider Mortal, Utsusemi and Sono Kore wa Moroku like a Depression Trilogy™ in Ninth. Mortal is about depression, loneliness and loss but like, tying it to a singular person or event in which the narrator felt grief. Utsusemi is about loneliness and depression as well, AND RUKI USES THE CICADA SHELL METAPHOR, WHICH IS THE SAME AS CRUCIFY SORROW (ALSO ABOUT DEPRESSION, BUT SOMEONE ELSE’S). But then, Sono Koe wa Moroku is THE turning point and where he first mentions (in this album) and actual DESIRE to heal and like, ON HIS OWN. IT’S ABOUT BEING STRONG FOR HIMSELF AND THAT MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL. And as I mentioned before, Falling also ends on a hopeful note about sadness not lasting forever – it’s like he’s prefacing the album with the fact sadness IS temporary and that there IS a turning point.

“Babylon’s Taboo is interesting…so apparently Babylon is a figure of western imperialism and capitalism in the Rastafari movement (an afro-centric anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist movement from Jamaica). The narrator is COMPLETELY aware of the oppression and injustice that goes on around him but confesses to doing nothing. I interpreted this as complacency to violence, which Ruki has written about before. Also, he describes a starry sky (which I presume represents wealth and happiness) as a lie, and that they are actually black eyes that watch and look down upon you. In the context of anti-capitalism, my interpretation is that the ‘guaranteed fate’ he writes about is the life-long struggle to attain wealth and happiness – we are doomed to dedicate our lives to this, futilely, to no end. and there’s nothing we can do about it. Another line that stood out to me most is “all I need is sanity but uncertainty will do”. this, along with the rest of the song, implies that the narrator is PRETTY DAMN SURE that we’re all fucked so like....HAHA COOL.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(Two of a Kind) Okay so…another motif I noticed in this album is an I and a You. And I know this sounds weird considering almost EVERY SINGLE GAZETTE SONG uses first and second pronouns, but mental health is SUCH a prominent, overarching theme in a way no album concept has been before, hence why I’m saying this. Two of a Kind is really solidifying this for me, but they appear in almost every song (but the You is known as ‘she’ in The Mortal). This pair are connected in an extremely emotionally intimate way. For one, they share pain and understand each other’s pain. Secondly, the narrator falls into depression after they’re gone. A part of me thinks it could be a past self and a current self, considering Ruki’s said this album involved the Most introspection from him and Falling writes about sins and past mistakes again. So, it could be a way of separating a past and current self – a past self that was perhaps lost, and made mistakes, but ultimately creates his current self.

But it could also be another person, as this You figure is also a source of light – someone Ruki shares his wounds with, in Two of a Kind. If it’s another person, it may also make sense that the depression and loneliness written about in The Mortal and Utsusemi is triggered by someone extremely close leaving him. Either way, it is this understanding and connection between the I and the You that also bring hope for the future and I REALLY love the way that hope is conveyed in the chorus of Two of a Kind. There’s so much light in it compared to the parts of the song where ruki calls himself filthy and ugly, and when he writes about negative feelings that never go away and bleed into this other person. but i think this other person understands it, and that’s why he can move on.

“Abhor God is a REALLY dark and heavy take on MOVING FORWARD. Like there’s so much rage in the way he writes about killing his lust, pride and anxiety and stringing up his nightmares in a noose, yet so much power in how he moves forward and sings victory with his music and his art. This is likely connected to Ninth Odd Smell and Uragiru Bero - where he writes about the band’s history and his imposter syndrome as an artist despite the band never going to die just because of that. He contrasts ‘too fast to live’ and ‘too young to die’ like, he’s really in a sort of purgatory where he’s constantly making too many mistakes to be happy but has too much to do for him to give up. So it’s here that he chooses to keep going no matter how weak the beat is. Imagery-wise this feels like.....continuing to live not because you have happiness to look forward to but just out of sheer willpower. Like it’s just so angry. Angry at the world, at yourself, but carrying that anger to try to be better and move forward.”

“And Unfinished is about the fans being his reasons to live and IT MAKES ME VERY EMOTIONAL THAT THIS IS HOW THE ALBUM ENDS!!!!!!! WITH HOPE!!!!! AND MOVING FORWARD!!!!! THEY LITERALLY ENDED THEIR ALBUM THAT’S ABOUT THEM ‘MAKING THEIR MARK ON THEIR WORLD’ WITH LIGHT AND HOPE AFTER LIKE TWO STRAIGHT ALBUMS OF /DEPRESSION/. EVERYBODY GO HOME WE LOVE HEALING IN THIS HOUSE.”

AND THAT’S THE END FOLKS!!!! if you made it here thank you so much for reading my ramblings and i appreciate u so so much <3 i hope you learned something new about the gazette’s music (i sure did - it’s why i went on this marathon in the first place!!) and again i have a list of posts i might write (which will definitely be shorter than these) so! yeah! anyway!! it’s past 11pm and i have no more brain cells. thanks again love ya have a good day/night <3 <3

#the gazette #gazetto #ruki #uruha #aoi #reita #the gazette kai #kai #the gazette ruki #the gazette uruha #the gazette aoi #the gazette reita #why am i tagging this #anyway i just want to say #i tried to stream bts' new song while putting this together #but i physically COULD NOT #the dissonance was too much #anw i love dynamite it's such a great serotonin boost haha <3

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