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shannygoatgruff · 4 years

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My Brother’s Keep - Chapter XV

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA+18

Overall Warning: Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.

Chapter Warning: Nervous breakdown. Sexual assault, rape, beating. Captive/prisoner. Heavy trigger warning. I also added a pic at the end of the victim looking battered (I usually just add nice photos of them but I found one that worked perfectly).

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other. Boys will be boys…

A/N: This chapter contains a sexual assault - as always I tried to make it more about what the aggressor was feeling than what was happening and as tactful as possible. The next couple of chapters are becoming more intense as our boy is devolving and Ivar is ramping up...As always I love your theories and convos about our boys.

I have taken the suggestion to write something from Ivar’s POV. I will, but it will come later.

Chapter XV

I can’t do anything but watch him move around the kitchen. As he opens the refrigerator door and starts to sing this damn song from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I wonder how in the hell can he just break out in show tunes right now? This isn’t the fucking place or time for a musical sing-along.

Everything about this moment is surreal. From the way he places the lunch meat on the counter to the way he walks over to those stupid ass glass-front cabinets to grab a saucer, it feels like I’m not really here seeing it. It feels more like I’m watching myself watch him than actually sitting here. I’m so alone, even though he’s right here in the room with me.

He grabs the loaf of bread and sits it next to everything else he needs before he suddenly spins on the ball of his foot and puts his fist up to his mouth like a microphone, “It’s beyond me, help me, mommy. I’ll be good, you will see. Just take these dreams away...”

Is he really performing a musical right now? I’m in the middle of a fucking nervous breakdown because there’s a woman in a cage in our basement and he’s singing show tunes? Did I miss something?

Ivar is upset with me, but he would never be cruel. He would never deliberately try to break me. How in the hell can he be so happy right now when I’m falling apart? Doesn’t he see what this is doing to me? Doesn’t he care or have I just become so insignificant to him that he doesn’t realize that I’m here anymore?

"Mustard,” he says to the room and walks over to the fridge to retrieve the condiment.

I’m invisible now. That must be it. My insecurities have finally get the better of me and swallowed me up whole. I always knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep living on the edge of just being able to be seen. I’ll admit, it was comfortable there, but I know it couldn’t be permanent. Being on the edge of being seen meant that I was never going to be someone that anyone would pay attention to, but I would never truly invisible. I liked being extremely ordinary. But, I guess it came at too high a price. The more time I spent in my head the more I drifted from being ordinary to becoming forgettable.

There’s a difference between someone that blends into a crowd and someone that no one in the crowd ever remembers seeing. The guy that doesn’t ever get seen is the one that everyone starts to wonder if he ever existed in the first place.

All of this going back and forth with myself, not being able to fight the hunger, always wondering if Ivar is mad at me…doubting every fucking thing I do…it’s made me disappear. I’m becoming forgettable.

Ivar’s fucking forgotten about me. Just that quickly, he was able to make it so I didn’t exist. It was probably because I never meant as much to him as he meant to me. Why the fuck would I think otherwise? People want to surround themselves with representations of themselves. They don’t want to be around sniveling, basket cases, who can’t make up their minds, and sit on kitchen floors because they’re too scared to go downstairs and face the woman in a cage or go to my room. I should be able to stand up or give in to the hunger and not feel guilty either way.

He steps over my legs to get to the pantry and grabs a soda before returning to the counter to finish his culinary masterpiece. The precision in which he prepares his meal is almost poetic. Mustard on one side of the bread, mayonnaise on the other, he even neatly tucks the ends of the meat in so that nothing hangs over. He’s so meticulous. I never noticed how careful and thoughtful out everything Ivar does.

"Would you like a sandwich?" Ivar’s nonplussed tone pulls me out of my head.

Oh, thank God, he sees me! I haven't disappeared after all. I want to tell him I’m sorry and not to forget me. I want to tell him that I need him and I’m slowly disappearing. But when I open my mouth the words won’t come out, "Why is there someone downstairs?" I don't want to know why I really want to know if I can have her.

With a shrug, Ivar takes his saucer to the table and pulls out the chair. He sits, folds a napkin in his lap, and cracks open his canned soda before he bites into his sandwich. Counting the twelve times his jaw moves before he swallows, I feel myself growing impatient. I need answers. "She was a present for you. But, seeing as how you don’t ‘need this anymore’, she's my project now."

I don't say anything because I have the overwhelming urge to run to him and thank him. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. But, I can't accept his gift. We shouldn’t give each other people in cages as presents. Other people don’t do this, do they?

"You can't keep her here." Every part of me wants her to stay, even if saying she can’t stay seems like what I’m supposed to say. There's a safety net knowing that she's here if I ever need her, but the temptation is too great. She has to leave.

"Calm down, Hvitserk. I know that." He laughs and shakes his head before wiping crumbs that have fallen onto the table into his hand. "I don't plan on keeping her here. I had big plans for that one. But now," he shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip from the can, "she'll leave when she dies."

"Ivar…"

"It just doesn't feel right partying without you. So instead of the usual, I'm going to conduct a little experiment. I want to see how long she can last on her own. I won't help her, even if she begs me too. I'll make her do it herself." He still won't turn to look at me, but at least he's talking to me. He's not showing one iota of being unhappy with me, yet he won't make eye contact. I'm afraid that I've hurt him more than I can ever make up for. "I feed her. Let her out to go to the bathroom, twice a day. Punish her when she doesn't piss on the paper. You know, treat her like the bitch that she is." He laughs at the analogy before picking up his sandwich and taking another bite, "I'll see how long she can take it before I tell her her options."

Without him explaining them I already understand her options. Ivar is either going to keep her just barely alive for an eternity or he's going to drive her so crazy that she kills herself. He is so innovative. A part of me hopes that she holds on because knowing that she's here has started my adrenaline pumping. "How long have you had her?"

He looks at the ceiling as if the timeline is written there, "Since she pissed you off."

"Me? Who is it?" It dawns on me. That's why she wasn't on the fucking news. He offered to kill her if it would make me happy and I didn't tell him not to. He found her and brought her to me as a gift? And here I thought he was forgetting about me, but he was really showing me that he loves most of all. I can’t believe he did this for me, "Why?" I can barely squeak out the question because of the sob I’m trying to hold back.

He shrugs his shoulders and eyebrows simultaneously making him look like an exaggerated child, "Because I know that you wanted her the most."

That's not true. I go for the ones with the vibe, the ones that taunt me with their charisma. Never once have I been with someone out of spite. He does that, not me. "No…" My head shakes violently and I feel the tears start to well in my eyes. I don't want to believe him. But, I can feel myself wanting her more knowing how much I hate her. I can do whatever I want and not feel guilty about it because that bitch deserves it. But, I know her name. That should make me not want her, right? But I do. God, I want her so bad. "I didn't ask you to do this."

"You didn't have to, Hvitserk. I know what you need." He stands from the table and walks over to the sink. "You don't want to need her, but you do." There's a pause while he rinses his dishes and stacks them neatly in the drying rack. He starts singing again, fully enveloped in his task. Only after he has the sink cleared and the can of soda thrown in the recycling bin, does he turn to me with a pout on his lips.

Shaking his head as if watching a child, Ivar walks over to me and squats. "I know you," he whispers, pushing the hair that has escaped from my ponytail behind my ear. "Just like, I know that you'll go upstairs and try to convince yourself that I'm wrong. You'll find every reason why you shouldn't but only one why you should. And do you know what that reason is?" I shake my head no, but I’m afraid I might know what the reason is, "Because you need it."

The tears in my eyes blur his face, but I can still see those beautiful blue eyes full of concern for me. "I don't want to need it," I whisper, trying like hell to convince myself more than him. I don't want to be like this. Not anymore.

"But you do, and it’s okay. It time that you accept it, honey," I can tell by his tone of voice that this is just as hard for him as it is for me.

There are so many things that I want to say to him. But only one thing comes to mind, "Why are you doing this to me?" I want to be mad at him for giving me this choice. I want to hate him for allowing me to take comfort in the monster inside of me. But the truth of the matter is, I don't.

Deep down I know he's right. Shit, who am I kidding? I don’t have to go dig down deep, Ivar is right on the surface. I need this. I want him to be wrong. Everything in me wants him to be wrong. But he’s not.

Why can't I be strong, just once?

Ivar smiles, sits beside me, and pulls my head onto his shoulder. I've been aching for him to hold me for so long that the only thing I can do is break down in his arms. This is the side of me that Thora will never understand. I don't even understand it. Only Ivar does and he never seems to get tired of it.

"Oh, baby. I would never do anything to hurt you. Don’t you know that? Everything I do is to try to help you. Do you think I enjoy watching you like this? It fucking tears me up inside. I hate that bitch for making you feel you feel like this when all I want is for you to be happy." He squeezes me tighter, rocking with me on the floor. "Right now, the only thing that can make you happy is locked up in a cage in the basement. Take her. That's what she's there for."

"I'm scared," my voice is so small and I feel so helpless. I don't want to be like this, but it makes so much sense. Everything has a way of making sense when he says it. That's why I need him so much. He never lies to me. He only has my best interests at heart. He loves me, even with this side of me that is never fucking satisfied. But he sees past all that shit. He knows that I just have this thing inside of me that needs to feed. And that doesn't make me a bad person.

It's the act that's bad, not me.

Pulling away he wipes my tears with his thumb and holds my chin in his hand. "How can I make this easier for you? Do you want me to hold your hand and wait with you downstairs like I always do?" He's still so gentle with me. Even after all of this. "Or would you rather me take her up to your bedroom?"

My head shakes vehemently at that suggestion. That's the bed that I share with Thora. I'll be damned if that slut is going to taint it, "The foldout cot is fine."

"Give me a few minutes. I'll come back up and get you when everything is ready." With a gentle kiss to my lips he stands up and I slide out of the way of the basement door.

I don’t even turn around as I hear him go down the stairs singing again.

I hate myself for being like this. I hate Ivar for loving this thing in me. And I hate this bitch for being here and making me do this.

Every ounce of hatred I have in me I take out on her. She's getting almost two weeks’ worth of pent up aggression, anger, fear, and starvation. My hunger won't subside until it feasts on her completely and feeding never felt so good. If only this bitch would stop fucking screaming, I could enjoy it.

I push her face further into the mattress to shut her up.

Her screams turn my anger into this shade of red that is changing the color of everything around me. I’m so busy looking at these strange new colors that I hardly feel Ivar's hand close around mine, "Not so hard, baby." He increases the grip on my hand and pulls it upward to release her face. "If you suffocate her she won't be here whenever you need her."

I'm not sure that I want her here, though. I don't want this kind of temptation looming over me every day. As long as she's here, I'm going to think about her. Whenever I'm in the home I'm going to have the urge to see what she’s doing, to listen to her beg me to take her. She doesn’t leave me much choice. If she doesn't kill herself, I have to.

I'll think about playing the hero after I get my fill of her. At the rate I'm going, that won't be for a very long time. From this position, I can't see her face. I thought taking her from behind would give me open access for whatever I want to do to her, but this isn't about what part of her I want to rip open, it's about seeing her reaction to it.

I flip her over and push her legs back so far that I hear her hip pop. She's getting off easy that it's me doing this to her and not Ivar. I'm doing her favor, and she's too fucking ungrateful to notice it.

"Fight back, you bitch!" Damn her for not cooperating. Doesn't she know that I need this to be over, so I can go back to trying to pick up the pieces of my life? She won't cry. I can hear her whimpering, but there aren't any tears. Damn her. "Shut the fuck up." She's fucking it up and it’s pissing me off.

I'm sick of being nice. I tried to make her understand that I didn't want to hurt her, but she's asking me to. She must want it rough or she would do what I need her to do. Why else would she be looking right at me? Her eyes are fucking calling me, wanting more. Fuck. Now, I have to give her more.

I grip her hair to pull her into a seated position on the cot in front of me. This fucking gag is in the way. Before anything else happens, I still feel the need to explain to her the rules. With one hand tightly around her throat and my other in her hair, I pull her head back until her eyes meet mine. "You're gonna suck my cock and if you scream or try to bite me, I will kill you." I don't even recognize my voice. It sounds more like Ivar's than my own.

I have never threatened to kill anyone before but I mean it with her. I feel myself losing control, but it's not like how it normally is. Usually, when I lose it, I feel out of place, like something is wrong. But this is different. I'm so angry. I can't stop it. It's scary but it's comforting at the same time. This anger is making my hands shake as the grip around her neck gets tighter. I could choke her to death with one hand and be amused by it.

"You're doing great, baby." Ivar's voice forces me to look up at him. He's made himself a seat on top of the washing machine and he's eating chips like he's watching a movie.

I know I should feel like this is wrong, but right now I can't. Right now, the hunger has found a companion in my anger and those are the only two emotions that I can allow myself. But once they stop, I know the guilt will be worse than it has ever been before. After all, I don't want to do this. I have to.

There's something about her face without the gag that forces the rage out of me. I hate this bitch more than anybody I've ever met. And just looking at her forces me to punch her repeatedly. She bleeds too much. I don't like the smell of blood and this bitch is bleeding all over me. "You lying bitch! You like making shit up about us? Fuck you." I hit her with such force that she falls to the cement floor, choking and sputtering on blood.

"He didn't give you permission to move." Ivar's voice holds such amusement as he speaks to her frightened eyes that are looking in his direction. "Tsk, tsk, tsk." I shoot a look in his direction, suddenly resenting the fact that he's trying to intimidate her. This is about me and my anger toward her. Ivar puts his finger up to lips to signal that he'll stay quiet. He knows that I need to do this on my own. I need to feed off of her fear of me, without his help.

Listening to her whimper forces me to keep her quiet. She won't scream, so I can't kill her, but I have to shut her up some way. I bang her head against the cold floor and before she can recover, I pin her shoulders down with my legs. I don't care if I'm hurting or if I'm her ripping her hair out while holding her head off of the floor. She needs to finish what she started. If she didn't ask for this, she wouldn't be in this situation now.

With each wave of my orgasm, a larger wave of guilt crashes against me. This is what I was afraid of. It's going to swallow me whole. I hate her, but I need her. I don't want her to leave, but she can't stay here. I'm afraid of what I could have done to her if Ivar hadn't have been here to stop me.

"It's okay, baby. You were amazing," Ivar helps me to stand hands my shorts to me. I can't even put them on, I'm crying too hard. I can just barely make out his body kneeling in front of me when I feel my shorts being pulled up my legs. "You go on upstairs and get yourself together. I'll clean up this mess that Judith made."

She's covered in her blood and squirming on the floor. "What are you gonna do?" My voice is so weak that it's barely audible.

A brilliant smile lights Ivar's face as he reaches over to the table next to the washer and grabs the bottle of bleach. "I'm going to destroy evidence." He chuckles while unscrewing the bottle and pouring it haphazardly over her body.

I can't watch this. Not anymore. I have to get out of here. My legs won't carry me up the stairs fast enough and just as I reach the top, I hear the metal bars of the cage close. She's back in her new home. Safe and sound until the next time I need her.

I notice that Ivar has left a joint for me in the ashtray on the kitchen table. Taking a seat, I light it and close my eyes as I choke back the aroma. I can't do this anymore. I can't live with the consequences. I know what I need to do and I'm taking the first step, right now.

As soon as I see Ivar's smiling face emerging from the basement, I flick the ashes aside and look at him sternly. "I'm moving out of the house and marrying Thora, whether you like it or not."

Ivar's eyes turn cold almost immediately and the calmness in his voice scares me. "That's what you think." A sick smile dances on his lips and that laugh…

Dear God, what have I done?

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nochuobsessed · 6 years

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Reign || Pt 27

Reign Masterlist

Word Count: 4.6k

Groups: BTS, EXO, Blackpink, Twice

Au: Royal

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst | Fluff | Smut | Au

Warnings: abuse, sexual abuse, rape mentions, smut, torture, the feels, EVERYTHING

“Father, must I go outside?”

A tall man, dressed finely in the same colour clothing as you wore, bent down onto one knee, placing his large hands on your shoulders, “My Princess, you should mingle with all the other little Prince’s and Princess’s. You should make friends.”

You peered into your fathers eyes, never failing to notice how symmetrical they were to your own. Your head tilted, making your tiara fall from your head to the floor, making a small noise.

You gasped in surprise, looking to your father in shock, who just chuckled in response, picking up the gold diamond tiara, and placing it carefully back on your head, “There you go, you look perfect.”

“I can’t play with them!” You said, showing your father your best puppy eyes, “I’m only six! They’re a lot bigger than me!”

You father gave you a gentle push, “But you are smarter than all of them. You’re my daughter, stand tall.”

You nodded shyly, finally stepping outside to the brightly lit gardens. You hadn’t been outside of Park before, so you were excited to see the differences in your home and the Kingdom of Kwon. Your older sister and brother were already playing with the Prince Jiyong, and you were left by alone.

“So many flowers,” You gasped in awe, picking a pink flower and looking closely at it. You giggled before sneezing, the pollen touching your nose. You stood back up, turning around and continuing to look around the beautiful gardens.

You saw many royal children talking around the gardens. You were so far the youngest. Young heirs to the throne weren’t usually allowed to leave their kingdoms until the age of 6, which had explained why you had never left the castle borders. Everyone seemed to bunch together, different groups of beautifully dressed princes and princesses all chatting and giggling together.

However one, a young boy, a few years older than you, sat by a tree, staring off into space. You considered approaching him, but he was wearing an heir’s crown, which convinced you not to.

“And what are you doing here?”

You turned around quickly, coming face to face with some older boys you hadn’t met before. They were not royal, that was for sure. Yet they scared you, with their smirks and taunting smiles.

“Can I help you?” You asked quietly, looking down and not meeting their eyes.

“You’re not an heir, are you?” The tallest boy asked, “We have higher ranks than you. We’ll take over our fathers title, but what will you be? You’ll probably marry a peasant.”

You tilted your head carefully, as not to let your tiara fall this time. You were confused. Why were these boys being mean to you? Did they have something against you? You had never met them before, so you had no idea.

“A peasant?” You asked, “Do I know you?”

“Our fathers work for yours,” One of the boys said, “We see you around the castle, but you’re never without your nanny. Why do you get better treatment than us? The people that will help your brother run his kingdom one day.”

“Because she will be my Queen.”

You didn’t recognize the voice, but you stayed still, only looking to the mysterious person once they were standing next to you.

“Prince Jungkook,” The boys bowed in respect, and you looked up at the tall boy.

“Why must you be so horrible to her,” He asked, slipping his hand in yours, “Whether or not she holds a higher rank then you, which she does, you should be nice. That’s what separates us Royals from you, what did you say, peasants. We learn how to treat others, you just learn how to scam your way through life with money and threats.”

They boys ran off after Jungkook’s speech, and you curtsied to the older boy, “Thank you, your highness.”

Jungkook smiled softly, “I meant it, your highness.”

You smiled shyly, wiping away the emerging tears, “I appreciate it.”

As Royals, you were taught how to speak properly at a young age, which is why you weren’t surprised after his speech.

“I, think I should go now,” You said, “Thank you.”

“Wait- I never got your name,” Jungkook said, making you turn around.

You sighed, smiling, “Y/N, Princess Y/N of Park.”

Cold touches. Frightened shaking. Taunting and teasing. That had become your life.

At this stage you weren't sure if it Sehun and Hyuna, or your own thoughts torturing you. Jungkook was the same. Scared of any sound outside your room, fearful that it was one of the two new rulers.

You hadn’t heard about Jihan in a while. You received no more letters, Sehun thinking that if you had access to letters, that you would stop his plan.

“How’s the one on your ribcage?”

Jungkook hesitantly lifted up his shirt, the wound on his left rib infected and getting worse by the day, “Its not healing.”

You looked down, Sehun and Hyuna had prevented Jungkook from getting any medical aid. They didn’t know that Nayeon was a physician, but she didn’t have access to the supplies needed.

“We just have to keep it clean,” You say, standing up and picking up the bowl with water, “We can wait until later, Nayeon went to the village and got alcohol.”

Jungkook chuckled in pain, “Right, so I can drink myself to death.”

Pouting, you hit his uninjured arm, “Don’t say that. Not even as a joke. Not in this situation.”

Jungkook took your hand, kissing it softly, “We must do what we must. Our only goal at the moment is survival. Even if we get kicked out of the kingdom-“

You shook your head, pressing a wet cloth to the infected wound, making your husband wince, “That won’t happen. Even if it did, we have castles in Park. We have friends everywhere. We can take back our kingdom.”

“And what about Jihan?” Jungkook said, his voice raising an inch, “He’d have to grow up with his parents fighting for a kingdom that we shouldn’t have lost in the first place. He doesn’t have his parents right now! We could die and he’ll invulantarily become king. He’s an infant-“

“This is no ones fault but Sehun and Hyuna’s,” you reassured him, “If we don’t get them, karma will. Our people are loyal, they won’t support them without a fight.”

Jungkook nodded, cupping the side of your face and bringing you in for a sweet kiss. Your hands naturally found their way to his thighs, scooting forward to deepen the kiss.

“We’ll be okay,” Jungkook said, your foreheads pressed together, “Even if we have to disguise ourselves and live as peasants, we’ll be okay because we have each other.”

His thin hands traced your jaw, trying to memorize every feature. His eyes looked tired, too tired. Your heart ached at the sight in front of you. You hoped he didn’t feel the same.

“They’ll want to see us soon,” You whispered, his large hand taking yours, “How pathetic. The rulers of Jeon, one from Park, parents of Jeon-Park prince, now being held hostage, in our own castle.”

Jungkook tilted his head, “I don’t think it’s pathetic, but rather sad. We had everything, and now nothing. But still more than most.”

Jungkook was right. You still had food, not a lot but enough. A roof over your head, and you had been able to keep your royal quarters. Jihan was presumably safe, still living the life he should.

Presumably.

And as if on queue, the door opened, and a guard walked in.

“Tomorrow night, a pre-coronation ball will be held to honor King Sehun and Queen Hyuna. You have both been selected as the hosts. A guard will come to escort you when it begins. You are also being summoned to dinner in an hour.”

He left just as quickly as he came, leaving you and Jungkook alone once more.

You gulped, standing up slowly, “I guess we better start getting ready.”

Your hand was trembling as you gripped onto Jungkooks arm, awaiting to be announced into the dinner. Jungkook was standing tall, the both of you dressed royally once more, crowns and all. Neither of you had said a word to each other in at least ten minutes, the anxiety of coming face to face with Hyuna and Sehun too much.

“Their Majesties, King Jungkook and Queen Y/N.”

You started walking, the double doors to the dining room opening and revealing your two faux rulers. They smiled nastily, Hyuna’s neck covered in feathers from her dress.

You sat down next to each other, Jungkooks hand enveloped by yours in your lap. Your stomach felt tight from anxiety, and your breathing unsteady.

“Don’t they look lovely, my love,” Hyuna said to Sehun, “However, something smells funny. Is that the smell of… whore?”

You looked down, avoiding everyone’s gaze as the two assholes in front of you laughed to themselves. You could feel Jungkook tensing, his body moving into a position where he could attack them at any time.

“Now now little brother,” Sehun taunted, “It’s not like I raped her, she willingly went along with it.”

Jungkook scoffed, “You would’ve killed me if she didn’t. She had no choice.”

“She’s still a whore,” Hyuna said, rolling her eyes. Your head shot up at her words, breathing in through your nose as your lips pursed tightly together.

“Enough, Hyuna,” Sehun said, “Now, before dinner is served, we have business to attend to.”

“What business?” You asked, your voice filled with an authority that scared the two imposters. Jungkook chuckled under his breath, his thumb rubbing circles on your hand to calm you down. You were grateful for the gesture.

“The pre-coronation ball,” Sehun said, “You two are hosting it. You will reveal that the two of you are stepping down. That it is too much work, and you want to focus on raising your son.”

“Where is our son?” Jungkook asked quickly, both of your eyes wide and hopeful.

Sehun and Hyuna looked to each other, shrugging, “He has to die, of course. After our proper coronation, you’re free to have as many children as you want. However, Jihan is technically still in line for my throne. We have our own son coming soon, and there can be no remains of your corrupt, hybrid family.”

“Hybrid?” You ask, offended, “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Sehun laughed, “A hybrid of Park and Jeon. Kingdoms shouldn’t join. Why should two kingdoms be more powerful than another simply because of marriage?”

“You see, this is where you are at fault, not to mention everything else,” Jungkook said, shaking his head in disbelief, “Y/N and I, we were born to rule. When we were young, we had lessons, teaching us to think of the people before we think of ourselves. You have no experience. You think you can just show up, claim you’re king, and live in riches and jewels for the rest of your life? You’ll end up like Prince Yoongi. Dead and heir to a bankrupt kingdom. I suppose the other kingdoms could use another convict area-“

“Shut up!” Hyuna screamed, “Your voice, it’s so annoying! First it was you screaming all the time, and now you’re insulting us?! What makes you better than us? You’re not a bastard? Sehun will be a better king. We know what it’s like to live in the villages, to earn our money and make a living! You two are over privileged silver spoons!”

You stand up, “We are over-privileged. That’s what we royals are. We are what the public strive to be like. Having two low life’s like you two will make their goals much lower! They’ll live a boring life because the highest people in the food chain live a boring life.”

Jungkook stands up with you, lacing his fingers with yours, “Think about the people before you go ahead with this. We can’t stop you.”

You both leave the room, hurrying back to your chambers.

“I have a confession.”

You turned to Jungkook quickly after getting into your night gown, “What is it?”

“You’re leaving, tomorrow,” He said, standing up after sitting on the bed. He walked slowly to you, taking your hands in his, “Tomorrow night, at the ball. It’s masquerade, you can leave with your ladies, the servants will leave too.”

“You’re insane,” You scoffed, “If you think I’m going to leave without you, you need to remember my vows. I’m not leaving you.”

He brings your hands to his lips, kissing them lightly, “Please, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Jeon Jungkook! I’m not leaving!” You said, “I’m five steps ahead of you. Have you noticed that Chaeyoung isn’t here? She left ages ago! She is in Park right now, and they’re coming to help us.”

“We can do step one tomorrow-“

“No,” You said firmly, “We can’t waste time.”

Nayeon opened her mouth, but stopped. Jihyo looked alarmed, “She’s right. I’ll get the supplies.”

“I’ll leave,” Naeyeon said, “I’ll dress like a commoner doctor-“

“Y/N’s sick,” Chaeyoung said, “She needs you. Jungkook will need you when he comes back. I’ll go.”

You nod slowly, “Thank you.”

Jihyo handed you a piece of parchment and a quill. You thanked her and began writing.

‘My dearest brother, I am not sure if you know of the news, but our castle and kingdom has been taken over. Jungkook’s bastard Brother, Sehun, and his fiancée, Hyuna, are crowning themselves King and Queen. We are being held captive here, Jungkook is being tortured and has been separated from me for weeks now. Brother, we ask of you, to help us. Rally the other kingdoms to our aid, as we have done for them. Jimin, Jeon needs you. I need you.

Your Dearest Sister, Y/N.’

“Go to Park,” You whispered to Chaeyoung, who had just finished dressing in all brown, her makeup off, and hair down. She looked like a peasant. Perfect. “Give this to my brother. Tell him that there is no time to waste.”

“We will be safe soon,” Chaeyoung said, hugging you tightly, “I promise.”

“They’re coming for us?” Jungkook asked, “You didn’t tell me?”

You pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Jungkook. He shook his head, “I can’t read it.”

“It says duobus diebus,” You read out, “It’s Latin for two days. It’s from Jimin. I got it yesterday.”

Jungkook looked at you in awe, “You didn’t trust me to tell me?”

You looked down, “If they tortured you for information… I thought-“

He pulled you by the waist and kissed you, his lips taking your breath away, “We’ll be okay.”

You smiled weakly, “I hope so.”

He spun you around, laying you down on the bed softly. He kissed your neck, his lips feather light on your skin.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” You ask, running your hands delicately across his back.

“Let me make love to you,” He whispered, kissing your lips once again, “We don’t know if we’ll survive tomorrow, or tonight. I intend to make sure you know just how much I love you.”

You felt your eyes water, but kept them back, cupping Jungkook’s face as your tongues massaged each other’s. He moved away, taking off his shirt, and helping you up. You pulled off your gown, leaving you naked.

“Years of this,” Jungkook said, his eyes glued to yours, “And you just get more and more beautiful every second.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck, “It is you, my love. Each day you are kinder, more loving than the last.”

“Let me show you,” He said, taking off his pants, both of you now naked. He slowly pushed you back onto the four post bed, running a hand through your hair. He kissed you slowly, his hand moving down to spread open your wet folds. He pumped his cock once, before slowly entering you. You breathed in deeply, as you felt every inch of him enter you slowly. He kept his thrusts slow, the both of you enjoying the feeling of being one with each other.

“I love you,” Jungkook said softly, “So much. You are my angel, my hope, my salvation.”

“You saved me, time and time again,” You held onto his shoulders, as his pace sped up, but not by very much.

He started grunting, pressing light kisses all over your face, making you smile, before moaning suddenly. His hand started to circle your clit slowly, and you brought your hips up to meet him. Your back arched, and his hand moved to support you.

“Y/N, I love you,” He grunted, “Always have, always will.”

You felt you high coming, and you didn’t hold your moans back. He knew you were close, he was too. His thrusts became faster, his pelvis lightly hitting your hips as he kept pounding into you lightly, making sure neither of you felt pain over pleasure.

“I- love you.”

After your words, you came, Jungkook letting go seconds after. You clenched your walls around him as he kissed you, the passion radiating around the both of you.

He slowed down, the both of you exhausted. He pulled out of you, standing up and grabbing a cloth. He wiped you down, making sure to keep his cum inside of you.

“Whatever happens tomorrow,” You say, stroking a finger across his cheek, “We wll be together. You die, I die. You live, I live. We are one.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Blue and gold outfits. Golden masks. Crowns perfectly atop your heads. Crowns that wouldn’t remain there for very much longer.

“You look beautiful,” Jungkook said, placing his hands on your hips from behind, “Remember everything will be fine.” You turned around in his arms, kissing him softly. “Please, if you change your mind, leave with your ladies.”

You sighed, tucking your head under his chin, “I can’t leave you, Not now, not ever.”

He kissed the top of your head, hugging you tightly, “Okay. But if something happens to you, I will kill myself.”

You pouted and hit his chest, “Jihan. Think of Jihan.”

He nodded, and you kissed his chin, before pulling away, “We should go, I guess.”

You nodded, fixing his tilted crown and picking up the masks, adjusting them onto your faces, “Stay together.”

You walked to the entrance of the ballroom, standing at the steps that led down to the party, “I don’t want to do this,” You admit, clutching onto Jungkook’s arm, “I’m not ready to die.”

Jungkook sighed, his chest jolting as he tried to hold back his tears, “If we die, Jihan will be watched over well. He has people ready to look after him, to guide him. Our Reign was short, but it has secured his life in safety.”

You nod, and you finally make your way to the floor, seeing Hyuna and Sehun, sitting on your thrones, dressed entirely in gold. You refused to look at them, feeling revolted that they think they’re doing the right thing.

“Look everyone!” Hyuna called out from your throne, “Former King and Queen Y/N are here! Lets give them a warm welcome!”

Everyone clapped, and you hid your already covered face in Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Brother, come here,” Sehun said, motioning for the two. You slowly walked over, looking at your feet.

“Lovely to see you,” Sehun said, “You don’t look too shabby for former rulers who are going to die.”

“You have our Kingdom, and you got us to send our son away,” You said, the tears threatening to fall, “Now you want us dead?”

“You see,” Sehun said, “The people will still support you, but if you’re dead-“

“We get it,” Jungkook said, “At least wait until after your coronation.”

“We plan to do that,” Hyuna said, “You can enjoy our party now.”

You sighed, before recognizing the music, “Jungkook, can we dance?”

Jungkook chuckled sadly, “Isn’t that my line?” He bowed to you, “May I have a dance with my Queen?”

“Of course, my King,” You say, curtsying back. You both took off your masks, everyone knew who were anyway.

He led you to the middle, the two of you starting to dance. It was bittersweet. You always believed that the two of you were the best dancers, able to convey your emotions through each other.

“You’re still so beautiful.”

You stopped dancing, instead leaning into his chest, and finally crying. The music stopped, and your sobs echoed throughout the room. Everyone went quiet, watching as the King comforted his Queen.

“It’s not worth it,” You sobbed, “Nothing, we’re dead, Jungkook. They’ll kill us, and they’ll kill Jihan.”

“It’ll be okay,” Jungkook said, “M-maybe our next life will be better.”

He pulled you away from the center, away from where everyone could see you.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, “I didn’t mean to make a scene.”

Jungkook hushed you, and held you close, patting your hair, “It’s okay.”

Two figures walked towards you, bowing, and then temporarily taking off their masks.

“Jihyo, Nayeon,” You say, “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, your highness,” Nayeon says, “We will all see each other again soon.”

You hug the two girls, and they walk away, keeping their faces hidden.

“The servants have left already,” Jungkook says, “The sovereigns go down with the castle.”

You nodded, moving around to get a drink.

Doing so, you spot a lady dressed finely, her stomach protruding with child.

“Congratulations,” You said, smiling sadly, “Is this your first?”

“Second,” The girl says, her voice familiar, “I have a daughter.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “Have- have we met before?”

“I’m sure we have, your majesty,” She says, before walking away to join a man, most likely her husband.

You returned to Jungkook with champagne, taking a sip before a loud bang is heard.

The ballroom doors slammed open, with two men dragging the screaming Jihyo and Nayeon through the doors.

“We found them trying to escape, your majesties,” The guards say to Hyuna and Sehun, who look to each other in amusement.

“Y/N, come here.”

You shake your head no, but a guard comes and takes ahold of you.

“Let go of me,” You said lowly, and he released you. You walked towards the fake royals, and stopped, Jungkook standing behind you.

“These are your ladies, are they not?”

“I told them to leave,” You say, looking down, “Punish me, not them.”

Sehun smirks, “Well, what should your punishment be? Oh! I know!”

He stands up, Jungkook moving in front of you, a protecting glare in his eyes, “Don’t touch her.”

“Our Queen here was a great fuck,” He announces, and the audience went quiet, “Maybe my guards should experience it first hand.”

The guards grabbed ahold of you, and you started screaming, “NO! NOT AGAIN PLEASE-“

Jungkook was grabbed too, torn away from you as he desperately tried to reach you, “IF YOU TOUCH HER I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Now now, Sehun. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped this little game of yours?”

Jimin?

You frantically turned around, seeing five men standing in a line, taking off their masks to reveal Jimin, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung, and Namjoon.

“We’re under attack,” Sehun said lazily, “You think we’re scared? We are the rulers now.”

“You’re not,” Jimin said, “You will never be one of us. The only thing you’ll be is dead.”

“Guards!”

The guards ran towards the Kings and Princes, Jungkook somehow getting hold of a sword and stabbing the guards around you. He pulled you behind him, ready to kill anyone that even thought of stepping near you.

The Guards had no chance, Sehun and Hyuna were glued to their seats, as they realized the entire attendance of the ball were all working for the other kingdoms. A surprise attack.

Sehun stood up, but Jungkook quickly grabbed him, holding the sword to his neck, “Take another step and I’ll kill you.”

“Guards, stop fighting,” Sehun called out. Hyuna was frozen, staring straight at her fiancé.

Sehuns guards were taken away by real Park guards, which left only the royals in the room. The pregnant lady you spoke to earlier took off her mask, revealing Jennie, who smiled excitedly at you, her hands on her baby bump.

“You mess with my family,” Jungkook said, “You mess with all of us.”

“We’re all connected,” Hoseok said, “Through marriage.”

“And Children,” Prince Taehyung said, smiling at you.

“Friendship,” Prince Namjoon said, looking around at everyone.

“Growing up together,” Seokjin said, glancing at Jimin.

“We are all a family, something you’ll never understand,” Jimin said, “That’s how we’re different from you normal people. We rule because we have each other’s backs.”

“And now,” You said, stepping forward, “You’ll see exactly what mother is capable of.”

You pulled out a dagger from under your skirt, raising the eyebrows of the men in the room. You walked up to Sehun, whom Jungkook was keeping still.

You stabbed his shoulder, “This is for the threats.”

His hip, “This is for the head.”

His thigh, “This is for torturing Jungkook.”

His stomach, “This is for making me have sex with you.”

You took a deep breath, and stabbed his heart, “This is for separating me from my son, and putting him in danger.”

Jungkook let go of the body, letting a very dead Sehun fall to the floor.

The boys clapped, and you curtsied in response, before walking towards Hyuna, “What to do with you? Are you actually pregnant?”

“I-I lied.”

“Good.”

You handed the dagger to Jungkook, and he stabbed her heart, finally ending the two devils lives.

You looked around the room at the smiling faces, noticing Jennie wasn’t there.

“Guards,” Jimin said, take the bodies away. The real King and Queen need their thrones back.”

They did what they were told, and you sat down in your throne, finally feeling at home.

“Thank you,” You said, smiling widely, “You saved us.”

“You would’ve done the same for us,” Taehyung said, “By the way, I think there’s someone who wants to see you.”

You look behind him, and Jennie is carrying Jihan, who screamed out you’re names. You and Jungkook leap out of your thrones, running to him.

Jennie puts him down, and he stands up, taking a few steps towards you. You collapse to the floor, wrapping him into your arms. He hugged you both tightly, and you and Jungkook started crying.

“You’re home my baby!” You cried, kissing his chubby cheeks, before pulling back, “Look at you! You’ve grown so much!”

“I’m so sorry, my son,” Jungkook said, wiping his tears away to hug his son, “I’ll never let you go away again. Never.”

Jihan giggled, “King Appa, Queen Eomma!”

More happy tears fell as you hugged him again, “He’s grown so much!”

You could see more of you and Jungkook in him. His face had become more pronounced, with Jungkook’s bunny smile perfectly placed on his lips.

“We’re okay,” Jungkook said, “We’re okay.”

You nodded, as Jungkook hugged you both. You wiped away your tears, knowing that they would be the last ones in a while.

“I love you both, so much,” Jungkook said.

“I love you too.”

And we’re done :’((((. There’s still an epilogue, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone that read and loved Reign. Thank you so much for coming with me on this long journey. Y/N and Jungkook’s story is over, but they got their happy ending <3

- Royal

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darkshadowbeauty · 7 years

Text

Calling Miles Out

OK I’ve seen a lot of posts about Tristan that have been negative. And the whole biphobic comments BS. It’s time to nip that in the bud because I am so tired of seeing it and Miles not being called out for his issues either.

OK so let us begin. People say that Tristan is biphobic and he has made by phobic comments. All right so I’m like this he’s not biphobic(because seriously if you was why would he dates a minus bisexual?) and yes I do believe that he made some shady comments. But what I don’t understand is is why isn’t Miles getting any acknowledgment here?

I mean the guy called Tristan desperate and pathetic not once but twice. He made him feel completely insecure within their entire relationship in season 14. And then when he tries to make it up to him by getting him and Zoe tickets to see a concert? That’s beyond stupid. And he never said if he still feelings from Maya when Tristan asked. But let’s go little bit further back.

I don’t believe that Miles was using Tristan in the beginning. I do believe that he had genuine feelings for him but I don’t think that they were really really sincere. Like in the beginning of season 14 he made the mistake of talking to the reporters. Which made their relationship public. Note Miles was the one that didn’t want to relationship to be public yet and he in turn made it public without Tristan’s knowledge. So that’s one of the reasons why Tristan kind of shied away from him after the news got out. Because people were assuming that Miles was using him.

Then skip ahead a little bit. Miles is skipping school and almost cost Tristan his grade. Humiliating him in front of the class by not showing up but instead sitting at home and getting high. Not giving a care in the world. And then when Frankie and Hunter confront him he pretty much brushes it off like “Tristan cares about me and we can just push this behind us”. He tries to make up with him which was sweet but not very very sincere.

Now we get to the part where he was using Tristan, he was using him has an escape from his home life. And when Tristan started to see that, at least that’s what Miles thought, he cracked. So he said that Tristan was desperate. And also saying that he treats him like crap and he kept coming back. That in my opinion was enough to get Tristan to walk away. Because no one needs to be disrespected like that at all. Tristan was under the impression that Miles was having a weed problem and wanted to help. You see if Miles had actually told Tristan what was going on with his father instead of shutting down then maybe Tristan could’ve helped him. But instead he insulted him and walked away. Which caused Tristan to dump his ass.

Onto season 14 B. We see Miles come up to Tristan and Zoe and he asked if they wanted to go to a concert. Tristan is still pissed off with Miles and he brushes him off. To which Miles huffs and puffs and walks away. Completely not acknowledging the fact that just was still mad at him. He tends to like to not pay any attention to other people’s feelings. Tristan namely. Now what I don’t understand is is if he knew Tristan was still trying to get over him why would he go after his friend? Why would he m hook up with Zoe during the summer and bring her to his house knowing that Tristan was there? To me it was to flaunt his relationship. And that wasn’t right.

So we move onto next class. Here we are with Miles once again not taking into consideration of the things that he has done in the past ato Tristan. And thinking that Tristan has probably forgotten all about it. And tries to be nice. You see Miles doesn’t really take into consideration other peoples feelings. He thinks that with enough time people just forget. And that’s quite stupid of him.

So he openly flirts with him and kisses him making Tristan think that he wants him again. Now it’s kind of unclear to us whether or not he still wanted him. Miles may have said that he did but when does Miles have a really no what wants? When it came to the debate which I think a lot of people thought that Tristan was being biphobic I have to say he wasn’t. He was calling Miles out his indecisiveness.

Because it seems to Tristan that there’s a pattern between him and Miles. And he was getting tired of it. Yeah maybe he could’ve said it differently but he still needed to call Miles out. And I think that he finally grew a backbone and stood up to Miles. I don’t see what the big deal is about that. But you know how it is when you favorite Miles more than Tristan and think that Tristan is the absolute worst? Yeah because a lot of people do.

So this is where he calls Tristan pathetic yet again and said he’s going to destroy him. Which he didn’t really do. But he did insult him in the classroom by telling him that he sucks. To which Tristan promptly shut his ass down because Tristan has sass like that. But he also kind of flaunted his relationship with Esme in front of Tristan too. And then he openly mocked him because he was dating somebody new. How the hell is that fair or him not being a bully? He taunted Tristan. Which made Tristan in turn let Vijay go because he thought that he was going to use him he didn’t want that because he knew exactly what it felt like to be used. Tristan was very mature at that very moment.

Now onto the end of the season. Miles gave Tristan a very half assed apology, nobody can deny that. It didn’t sound sincere at all he never apologize for all the crap that he put him through he pretty much just said it because he felt that he wanted to or some crap like that. He didn’t say with actual meaning. I will admit at the very end he did do some good by letting Tristan know about Hunter. So I can let him somewhat slide for that.

Now season two. So everything tends to be going OK between the two until the whole baby episode. Now Tristan managed to try to not make Miles feel pressured with the project( see he’s a good boyfriend). So he took almost all the responsibility. Which wasn’t right because they have to share responsibility. So once again Miles kind of used Tristan and brushes off his feelings. And once again Tristan called him out on it. And it’s like Miles could’ve just helped take care of the project baby. Like how hard was it? Why make Tristan do all the work? It’s stupid.

Now we move onto the epic episode about sex. Now Tristan was very mature on handling how he found out about Zoe and Miles. Like you would think that he would have an issue with his best friend sleeping with his then ex-boyfriend. You’d think he’d be insecure about that. But he wasn’t. He even told Miles in the in the episode that he didn’t have a problem with the fact that he slept with the girls. It was the fact that he wasn’t committed to him when he did it.

But back to the episode. Zoe runs her mouth and exposes that Tristan was a virgin to Winston who in turn exposes it to Miles. And Miles being reckless and spontaneous as usual decided to think that forcing sex on Tristan would make him feel better? No I’m not saying forcing as in rape or anything but kind of wanting to get out of the way? And he also thought that it would take less than 20 minutes? Yet Tristan calling him a man whore was the highlight of the episode? Miles doesn’t get any comments on the fact that he tried to pressure Tristan into sex? *cough* Favoritism *cough* *cough*

And don’t even me started on the fact that his little sister was wiser than him and telling him that him dumping Tristan because he didn’t want to have sex with was a stupid idea. Really Miles we’re going to dump Tristan because he wouldn’t have sex with you? How stupid.

Now I can’t get too much into season three because we don’t know what’s going to happen. There’s speculation and possibilities. But what I can say is is that after saying all of this right here people need to realize that Miles isn’t innocent. He was manipulative, he was indecisive, and he was a bully to Tristan about their relationship. And I don’t get why people don’t see that. People focus more on the stupid things that Tristan said then focusing on what Miles has done and said. This fandom shows too much favoritism towards Miles. Oh Miles can get away with anything but when Tristan does something he’s immediately crucified. That’s not fair.

And if Tristan is supposedly biphobic don’t you think someone had to of made him that way? I mean you just don’t grow up biphobic. Someone has to plant the seeds of doubt into your mind. Which is exactly what Miles did. Tristan felt as if he was being used or was experiment. Because Miles tend to bounce around from him to a girl to him to a girl. Don’t make anybody who is already satisfied with their sexuality and somewhat insecure feel negatively about bisexual people. Miles planted the seeds. And when you put the seeds of doubt into someone’s mind they start to question it. They start to wonder if everyone is the same.

Because how many times have we heard when a woman gets cheating on she says all men are the same? Or when a woman cheats on the man he claims that all women are the same or can’t be trusted or something like that? That right there has to be because they have experienced it in a negative way. That’s exactly what Tristan got with Miles. He experienced his first bisexual boy and it wasn’t a good experience so it made him say a lot of things that he probably shouldn’t. Plus we all know that Tristan is completely blunt and has no brain to mouth filter. He’ll say exactly what’s on his mind without thinking it through.

So I just want to say that it’s not right that people constantly try to tear Tristan down but don’t acknowledge the fact that Miles wasn’t a saint either. Tristan said a few things but Miles said and did worse. Now I love both of my boys dearly and I want the best for them. But if you’re going to call one out at least manage to call the other one out too. Fair is fair.

And if you’re going to be negative or favorite Miles more then do not reply to my post. I don’t want any negativity on it. Because as I said before I support both boys and I love them both. But I’m calling Miles out on the fact that he’s done some pretty shady crap to Tristan too. So if you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t respond to this post. 👍

#triles #tristan milligan #miles hollingsworth #miles hollingworth iii

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mixeddoctor · 6 years

Text

Crossroads

I went to therapy yesterday for technically the first time for this. I had a lot on my mind and needed to talk and instead, my therapist spent the whole time talking about solutions that she felt could help me manage my anxiety and depression but never talked about what caused or exacerbates the anxiety or depression. She just said that she read the notes from the intake and proceeded to like give me a scripted speech of exercises to do. Granted the exercises are pretty good but I started crying as she was talking about managing the issues and not once did we talk about what I was there for. Well let me not lie, she asked what my goal was and I said to get through boards but like, I don’t know I’ve never had a 27 minute therapy session. 27 minutes? Where I spoke for maybe 5 minutes and most of my answers were ok to suggestions she was giving. Like you would think that something would have, idk. I told myself I will give it a go with her one more time and then make my decision to either see another therapist there or just handle it on my own or maybe call the school therapist and tell him what happened and see what he suggests. Oh and she set up an appointment with a Psychiatrist to see if I could benefit from some meds to pretty much get me through boards. I won’t lie, I’m open to the possibility, but I am also going through the Psych block right now in school and I know that these meds can have significant effects and that sometimes you need time to figure out which med is the best for you and gives the least amount of side effects. Do I have time for that now? I know I have adjustment disorder (apparently my mom said I was actually diagnosed with this when I was in therapy in my teens) and for the most part I’ve managed this with my writing and therapy. However, the therapists I’ve had before have allowed me to talk my feelings out. Allowed me to present my issues with whatever I’m adjusting to and then guide me if need be from there. But do I have time for that either?

My friends and I were talking the other day about the madness that is medical school and that it almost seems like they don’t expect you or allow you to be human. You can’t get sick. You can’t have a baby. You can’t have anyone die. You can’t get raped. And if you do, handle it and keep going with class because your career doesn’t wait or accommodate for you. Your grades are crucial and your boards are crucial and there’s nothing in between that matters. They are literally expecting you to have Wolverine like status-invulnerable to disease, heal instantaneously, and be a lone wolf with no attachments so that you can only focus on school-oh but still have Professor X like caring for all the sick of humanity. They want you to be human with patients and superhuman in all other aspects of life. Literally unrealistic and the burden of it is crazy. You think you can take a break, but you can’t because you feel guilty that you should be studying. So as you are taking a break, your subconscious is taunting you or the next day you are riddled with guilt for being human. I feel guilty about my depression, my anxiety, the days that I need to do laundry and cook and clean and literally be human. How can this system kick out solid compassionate doctors when the system has no compassion on doctors themselves? The sad reality is though, this is exactly what we signed up for. We signed up to save lives and be with patients when their lives are most vulnerable regardless of our own lives, inner turmoils, family issues, and vulnerabilities. But in my opinion, I think we are most vulnerable to these inhuman expectations as we are learning the profession, because once we are doctors we have proven that we have knowledge and have a little bit more leeway to be human because there aren’t exams every Monday and projects due. I will put out a straight up disclaimer and say that I say this as the learner who has not yet become the doctor so my viewpoint could obviously be a little bias.

But going back to what I went to therapy to talk about...

I’ve really been thinking about reporting this. And I won’t lie, this decision is not easy whatsoever. I was thinking, what if I wasn’t the first? What if I wasn’t the only? What if I won’t be the last? Could I subject someone else to this? I really fear what if he denies it? What if no one believes me? I even have guilt for potentially going forward. Can I ruin his life? He has spent his life studying to be a doctor like me. If I do this, he will never become a doctor. He’s in the Air Force like me. If I do this, they will revoke his scholarship and make him pay back what they gave. If I do this, he could serve no less than 5 years. His mother is sweet and that’s her only son. That’s his grandmother’s favorite grandchild. That’s his father’s only son and the only one to carry on the family name. He ruined me, in more ways than one, and I have had to struggle through this year a lot. But could I be a person who ruins a life? Does that make me just as monstrous? Or does that make me brave?

I talked to 2 of my friends last night about this, especially after the therapy debacle. One of them asked me why do I feel guilty when I did nothing wrong? One reminded me that I never had sex with him, never stated that I wanted to, never told him that I liked him, and told him to stay in his lane as a friend. That I asked to not drink that night. That I asked to go home that night. And that I got in bed to go to sleep and not to have sex. They told me that He broke the law, and every moral code in the book, and his consequence is not on my head. That I would not ruin his life, He will have ruined His own life for what he did to me.

I think the fact that he was a friend, scratch that... that I considered him my best friend before this makes my feelings more confused but I feel pretty calm about it. I do get anxious with thinking about reporting it. I have been repeating what I remember from that night. I went into class really down with all of this and was literally spacing out with trying to remember that night. And there are a couple things that seem super clear, others that are fuzzy and others that are just blank. One thing that is super clear, because it was the morning after and I was sober and trying to process is when I asked him if he’d asked me. I asked him if I said yes. Because I think in my mind, I thought that if I said yes, if he asked me and I said yes, then I was just this hot ass mess who had sex with her best friend. Even thought I know that I was not in the state of mind to give consent, I still would have just assumed it was me and even maybe that assumption is the guilt of a rape survivor. But I didn’t. I honestly don’t even know why I asked it. Maybe something in me knew that I’m a hot ass mess but that I would not cross that line. Something in me expected him to say yes, but he didn’t. He said no. And that’s when it all hit me. And that’s when he asked me that stupid question, “Does that make me a rapist?”. My dumb ass response “It makes you mine” instead of asking the uber to pull the fuck over so I could get out. He was sitting right next to me. I remember feeling so shitty. So low. So depressed and shocked and the more I think about it, the more I realized that he never apologized, he never even asked anything about how I was doing or how I was feeling or anything. He never even thought twice about the answer I had just given him. The realization that hit. And even the last time we spoke, he never admitted it. He wasn’t apologetic. He was trying not to lose me because I was this obsession he had. Like a drug. I sit here, just a tiny bit more clear headed, maybe because my depressive symptoms aren’t as bad as my anxiety, but Dear God. I just feel so clear that he did it on purpose. That he knew what he was doing. How was I drunk enough not to be safe going home by myself, but not drunk enough to have sex with. I was hanging on him by the time we left the bar. I couldnt walk straight. He held me up the whole time. And I just keep playing the shadow figure in my head. His shadow in between my legs and the slow realization that I was feeling him inside me before blackness took over. Little things have come back.

I haven’t completely made a decision yet. This could re-traumatize me. This could be dragged out. This could be asking to be berated by some crazy ass defense attorney seeking to save homeboy’s ass... or this could be my chance to stand up. This could be my chance to tell him in more ways than one that his actions were despicable and wrong. This could be my chance to heal. But at what cost... That my friends is a definition of being between a rock and a hard place. This is a crossroads

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