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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

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when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

@spencerreid9

@spencyreidpls

@spencerreid9

@spencersmagic

@calm-and-doctor

@the-local-pendeja

@spencersrose

@spencersmagic

@shemarmooresfedora

@pastelbabygirl19

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment!

#tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw abortion #tw abortion mention #tw depressive thoughts #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

401 notes · View notes

spiderling-space · 3 years

Note

Hey so this thought has been on my mind for like ages and I think that you'd be able to write a headcanon about it in a wonderful way, so I'm presenting this idea to you hehe ( I love ur blog so so so much btw!)

So let's say that whatever miracles of seven happened, that Yuu overblots. Being constantly pushed around by other students by being magicless, solving the idiot trio's problems, trying to survive overblots and dealing with Crowley's neglectful ass cheeks sure is not easy. With all the piled and bottled up negative emotions, Yuu like the previous boys, overblots. Yuu wasn't that hard to defeat cuz you know, they're magicless, but the twst boys did struggle and Yuu's quite the challenge too. So what if, after Yuu's overblot, they had a full on mental breakdown. Not like crying mental breakdown, they're full on SCREAMING, their voice are cracking too, and very painful to hear. They started to unconsciously harm themselves so they have to be tied down to prevent to hurt themselves further. How would the dormleaders react to that?

(Sorry for my English and if I ever break a rule, it's OK if you decide to not do this too. Btw I got this idea when I watch ATLA aka Aang the last airbender, for reference of the breakdown of Yuu just search "Azula's breakdown" that practically how their breakdown looked like :D)

I cant write headcanons because you basically wrote everything. I will just make comments and additions to this. first I mention the background, secondly Azula’s breakdown so non ATLA watchers can understand a little and lastly, MC having breakdown like Azula. For the record, I could write about ATLA for pages since it is something I love since 2005. LOL This became a bit meta xd

You can join the discord server here 😉🤣

Firstly, the back ground:

I was 7 years old when ATLA started airing. I’d be excited to get back home to watch ATLA after school. Azula’s breakdown was awful back then when I first watch it as a kid. And of course, when they aired the episodes again and again. I rewatched again because I remembered the show being dope when I was in 12th grade which was stress relief while studying for university exams, and then I rewatched last year and even founded a Zutara server. Now I’m getting back to the point. In the last two rewatching, I saw Azula in a different light and her breakdown at the end of the show was understandable. I can recommend some ATLA meta that you might like.

Secondly, Azula’s breakdown:

Azula lost everything. In the flashbacks, you saw she was getting along with Zuko, laughing and playing tag until Ozai’s influence on her grew while Ursa showed more affection towards Zuko since Ozai basically hated Zuko. These two triggered each other and it grew like snowball effect which came to the point that Ozai-Azula and Ursa-Zuko. She didn’t get love from Ozai, she was just a puppet, someone to empower him more, not his daughter meanwhile to Ursa, she was a monster. Azula was 8 years old Ursa disappeared. Imagine how this would affect the child. After this, she had estranged brother that she was jealous of because of Ursa’s love, a father who manipulated her, and an uncle who was too in pain to do anything and he was more focused on Zuko. She only had Mai and Ty Lee as “friends” but it was toxic and Azula used fear to control them. After Zuko got banished, Mai and Ty Lee went to their own places, leaving Azula alone with Ozai. Just when Zuko got back, she was being like the last times, cruel teasing, Mai and Ty Lee with her. Later, Zuko went away and probably got lectured by Ozai for her lie. Mai and Ty Lee stood against her. In the end, she had no one. Ozai didn’t want her with him either because he only wants power. Being alone drew her to the edge. In the Royal Hair Washing, the girl sje fired had her face. Her self hatred was palpable. She started to reflect this via Ursa, the mother who thought her as monster and didn’t love her like she did Zuko. I believe she would have had breakdown if she actually killed Zuko. At the end, she couldn’t handle it anymore. Being all alone, not being loved, self hatred and finally failing at something which is something she knows Ozai would never tolerate like he did with Zuko. This 14-year-old wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore and had breakdown.

Now last section, MC having breakdown like Azula’s:

Let’s see the things MC went through:

Stripped away from home

Doesn’t have much memory of it

Is thrusted into a world so foreign to them, where everything is foreign to them. There is no familiar thing that can make them recall home or feel at home

Is forced to study things that they have no prior info where the others have prior info and they are expected to ace the tests. This puts on pressure on regular students, can’t imagine the pressure they would feel since they barely understand the magic.

Is treated like trash by everyone at least once. From the first moment they came to Twisted Wonderland, they were like dirtbag. Dire gave them a house where they could get Hepatitis A to C, tetanus, hypothermia and any other disease. They have lived in that state for months and the house barely got fixed by the end of exams. They got belittled or used by almost all characters at least once. Examples: Vil calling them nobody; Azul trying to take the only thing they have from them, the dorm; Riddle calling them uneducated because not having magical parents; Leona acting like they are a toy in E2; Jamil literally manipulating their choice; sometimes NPC characters talked; Cater making them do his work etc.

They are given more than a person should handle. They are not certificated psychologist, they aren’t superhuman, they don’t have super healing... They are just human but has to fight enemies than can easily kill them if it were not the magic users around them. They are given the task of dealing with the emotional breakdown of the other people.

All of these are building up more and more. Maybe they started to get along with people after the belittlement and being used but every new character does this. At one point, it will be too much and they will think “they are only nice to me because I did a favor to them. If not for that, they wouldn’t be nice to me” which would lead to self doubt. When one starts doubting themselves, everything else starts to go down. Also, new characters treating them that way adds salt to the wound.

MC isn’t a professional psychologist. They can’t handle other people’s issues without taking a toll at themselves. They don’t even catch a break between everything.

Dire is deliberately keeping them away from home as they all do the errands he say. To him, what MC wants doesn’t matter much. The game doesn’t show but if MC has family and friends or pets, you can’t tell me that they wouldn’t miss them once or see, hug them or know their state, alive-dead, healthy-sick etc.

Lastly not being invincible. The end of Episode 5 shows this well. They couldn’t stand against Grim who isn’t as powerful as the other overblot characters. They are mortal who can get hurt easily.

Now all these build up meanwhile we don’t see an MC centered chapter, how they are etc. It’s all about the others. Maybe there were a few chapters asking if MC is okay after everything but it feels like it is in the second plan.

Everything that I mentioned can lead to a breakdown like Azula’s. Everything is just too much to handle and they don’t talk with a professional about it. When they finally let out everything, it feels much better, screaming out their lungs, lashing out like all of them did. They are finally letting out all of their emotions, crying and screaming; yet still feels better than bottling everything up. They think maybe that’s how overblot characters felt.

All in all, everyone in NRC needs a counselor.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #MC/Yuu #twisted wonderland meta #twst meta #twst yuu #twisted wonderland Yuu

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Better Man.

~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC

Rating 18 +

Angst.

Implied Infidelity in the past.

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time.

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her.

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles.

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms.

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face.

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance.

Us.

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

I was the one getting a divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us ) and he had been the most kind man .

I swallowed.

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine. It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over?

The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, " I’m sorry, Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again.

So we had done the wise thing.

At first a break.

A few days apart to get our head on straight. Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other.

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation.

People with children didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.

But, none of it mattered now.

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real.

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband.

He would be my ex -husband.

i hated that word.

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered, angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved.

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world.

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer. It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery.

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior.

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel.

I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

It had been sheer luck that we had met....

In fact, if Jimin's car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it.

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight.

I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either .

And I had fallen in love with that version of him.

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him.

That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years. So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order.

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating.

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. "

Whatever it was.

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection reduced to a phrase like that.

What a pity.

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably.

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.”

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly.

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t.

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung.

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives.

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.”

And that had stuck with me.

Walk out the first time.

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time.

And so I had.

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself. “ I shouted.

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down.

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending.

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight. I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible.

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes.

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in .

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative.

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us why.

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue.

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life.

It wasn’t easy.

From him, it had been nothing but a mess of heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give.

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering.

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare. I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy.

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning.

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves.

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this.

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him.

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him.

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. .

Of course, the customary hug.

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine?

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face.

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together.

No, that wasn’t it.

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them.

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized. “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him.

“Okay .” I said casually.

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged.

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased.

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight into my heart.

That stupid nickname.

God I couldn’t bear it.

Swallowing i looked away.

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later.

I nodded curtly.

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely.

“Why not?” He whispered gently.

I groaned.

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered.

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him.

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted.

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he had used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw.

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me.

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently.

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us.

“Shall we begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride.

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts fics #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

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spydered · 2 years

Text

Good morning my beautiful doodles and happy friday-eve.

I’m gonna be real this morning ( now that I have my coffee ). I’ve been around this hellish blue site for longer than I would care to admit. But it’s been a long time.

I’m putting this under a cut so it can be scrolled past if someone doesn’t wanna read.

Now, like in real life.. you don’t have to like everyone. You don’t have to be everyone’s friend. I learned that the hard way BY being here. When I first was on tumblr. I wanted to be everyone’s friend. It didn’t matter the toll it took on me mentally or emotionally. I was always there for everyone who needed me.

Then people started taking advantage of that.

It took me years to realize what was going on and by that point, my kindness and enthusiasm was being used as something negative. I was too clingy or too needy or too enthusiastic. I lost friends, people were told to avoid me because of it so I left for a long time.

And then I finally came back, but everything had changed. I wasn’t so outgoing. I kept to myself. I let people who wanted to interact come to me. It changed me as a person outside the platform and I feel like it’s happening all over again.

I’m being blocked and ignored by people who not even a week ago were close friends of mine ( or at least I thought they were ). I’m being gossiped about and dragged through the mud and I don’t even know what I did since really.. I haven’t been around much as of late. Now, I’ll never fault someone for unfollowing or anything like that. That’s your right and you’re free to do so. But, if we’re friends it leaves a question of what did i do? and it sucks to be stuck in that mindset.

Things are being said, people are being lied to and nobody is actually coming to ME and asking what’s up. They are taking the words of someone who has a problem with me or doesn’t like me and using it to make a decision. Even if we have been friends prior for a long time.

And honestly, I’m just tired.

We’re all adults here ( or mostly, at least on my blog since I’m 21+ ) but the behaviors I’m seeing are worse than middle school and it’s sad. I thought that in the year 2022 we could at least behave better. And sure, I’m guilty of it too but at least I do try and see for myself.

But what it boils down to is. Be kind. You don’t have to be chummy with everyone but put out in the world what you’d like to see yourself. You don’t have to like everyone’s muse. Or everyone’s interpretation of said muse. Everyone has their preferences and their favorites. Hell, I do too. But, I do try and be as inclusive as I can without disrespecting my own boundaries and my own mental health.

If you want to be friends, come t o me and bash me over the head and go FRIENDS? and I will enthusiastically be all FRIEND! even though sometimes it takes me forever to respond and forever to get back to messages. I am always here for those that need me.

I just. idk. The last few days have really taken a toll on me and my mental health and I just took a long hiatus. So what I’m saying is just... if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it. Keep it to yourself. Spread positivity and don’t intentionally try and bring people down. You don’t know what people are going through or what they have been through. This is a safe space for a lot, including myself. I come here to relax and have an outlet. I’m a writer, and that had been taken away from me for a long time. RPing is a way I destress. The way I work out some of my anxiety and I start to be able to be normal again after so many years of abuse.

If you made it this far, I love you to bits lol but what I’m trying to say in too many words is. I’m only human. I mess up. I may say or do the wrong thing sometimes but I don’t mean to. I don’t do it maliciously. I want my space to be safe for me and everyone on it. Just be kind to each other, it doesn’t take a lot.

I love all y’alls faces, okay? xoxo

#this got long and is going nowhere but #i felt like it needed to be said #ii 。 out of character #real life tw #mental health tw

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herstroywritten · 3 years

Text

Their Aching Firsts.

I still have no excuse for my obsession with them. Not sure how I feel about this particular story, but I wanted to post something for the start of Rivusa week for the hell of it. It’s about 7k words (I apparently can’t stop writing them once I start and their works end up being endless). Oops.

Fair warning, there is a umm *spicy* scene near the end there. I don’t usually write those and I tried to keep it as vague as I could, but I thought I’d mention it anyways. Other than that, enjoy and let me know what you think!

The first times they kissed, it was fueled by anger- he grabbed, she pulled, they crashed.

The first time they talked about it, it wasn't so much a conversation of words as it was one of looks. His eyes said "I want you and it terrifies me." Her eyes said "I think I want you, too. And I think I'm finally ready to admit that."

The first time Musa realized her new favorite jacket was once his, she stares at herself in the mirror for over an hour. She misses lunch with the gang and Riven comes knocking at her door and opens it to find her standing in front of that mirror in a state of awe. She's bathed in black leather, sleeves reaching the tips of her fingertips.

"You ok?" Arms wrap around her waist as she toys with the hem of the jacket. She looks at him through the mirror and smiles.

"I just want you to know I'm never giving this back."

He huffs a laugh as he lets his head fall to her hair, breathing her in. Lavender and something sweet that he's never been able to pinpoint. "Not even if this falls apart?"

She whirls around to face him. "I don't intend on letting that happen." Her hands are on the collar of his shirt, eyes blazing with stubbornness. He knows then that her words are a promise, a commitment and not just a comment in passing.

"I don't know, Muse. You still have time to regret all this. Regret the ruin of your reputation. What will people say?" His words are teasing, but she can see right through them. She senses his vulnerability, his apprehension.

"There are a lot of things I regret in life- yelling at my mother when I was fourteen because I didn't want to clean my room, being a bit of a bitch to my suitemates at the start of the year, hiding instead of fighting because I was too scared to see what my powers could really do. The regrets are endless. But, you, Riven, are not one of them."

He frowns, blinks away the swarm of feelings within him. "Yeah?"

She bunches her hands on his collar and pulls him down to her mouth. "Yeah."

"And what if I'm the one to end this?"

"And do what? Date some other girl for the hell of it?"

"Maybe, " he grins. "I hear I'm hot on the market now that I'm on the good side." She pulls him all the way down then, kisses him hard.

"Give it a try. Whoever she is, she won't last more than a day. And she'll defiantly never have you. Not really. I have you right where I want you, Riven. You're mine and you know it." She blazes a fire in him with her words.

"Oh yeah? And how would you know that?"

"You're here, aren't you?" She's all sass as she cocks an eyebrow at his question. "And, plus, it's kinda hard to lie to an empath."

And then she's kissing him again. This time with so much passion that he can't make sense of the world around him any longer. She pulls away only to tell him, "And I bet she'll never get that reaction out of you."

"No. No, she won't."

________________________________________________________________

The first time he calls her his girlfriend, it's not exactly in the situation she had imagined.

"Girls, I need to tell you something." Musa's voice wavers slightly as it rises above the noise that is their friends' laughs and chatter.

They're on the roof of Alfea, clustered among one another on the edges of old, shabby stones. The sky above them is dark and heavy. Stars wink at students from behind perfect clouds, ones that Musa remembers seeing in old cartoon movies that she used to watch with her parents when she was younger. From up here, the rest of Alfea seems like their whole world, its students miniature figures in a dollhouse. It's a perfect night, just as it should be. Rosalind is gone, out of the school and although that's not good enough, it's something. And Headmistress Dowling is alive and back in charge of the magical boarding school, where she belongs. From her perch up here, she can make out the headmistress' perfectly done hair as she leans back and laughs at something Silva is saying. She sees Professor Harvey heading towards their table, scolding students along the way to back away from the school's boarders. She's surprised that they haven't tried to stop all the drinking that going on. It seems that even the professors have had enough of the fighting, so much so that they're no longer focusing on the minute details of teenage life. Plus, she suspects that when they called for a party to celebrate the revival of Dowling and their taking back the school, they had fully expected the drinking. In fact, Musa had even seen Silva sneaking a few drinks to the teacher's table, but she'd never tell him that.

She can still hear Terra's squeal when Dowling had announced the party. And she can feel the toll of the heels Stella had insisted she wear on her feet. It has brought everyone so much joy, this little piece of heaven that they're being allowed, and she's been so very glad to just bask in it. After months of walking around with her headphones constantly on, trying desperately and failing to block the thoughts of despair, gloom, and pain, she welcomed the change. It had taken a lot out of her, but she had even worked up the nerve to leave her headphones behind for the party. The girls had been surprised at first, but then Bloom had stepped forward, wound their arms together, and led her outside the suite. She's been getting weird looks from them all night, little side glances with small smiles and questioning eyes, asking her if she was okay or if she needed to head out for a bit, take a breather. She'd returned them all with reassuring smiles of her own, letting them know that she was fine. And she was fine, but probably not for the reason they thought. Yes, the students around her were happy and she didn’t have much negativity to deal with from them right now, and yes her powers were getting better. But the reason she was doing so well had to do nothing with the students around them or her ability to control her magic and everything to do with the specialist across from her.

Riven and her had been a bit of a dichotomy since the start of her second semester at Alfea. They were paired together for combat classes from the very beginning of Rosalind's reign at Alfea. He'd flirted, as he did with everything that had a pulse and walked his way, and she had shut it down. Odd how that had only encouraged his behavior. Odder how she'd eventually come to appreciate it.

It was a slow transition, their thing. She had been resistant to accept she liked someone so very opposite to her last boyfriend, hesitant to give herself to that natural disaster that seemed to be Riven. Honestly, it seemed like a loss for a long time. She'd lay in bed some nights, staring at her ceiling, listening to Terra's slow breaths as she slept, and just think about the fact that just a few months ago (God, it boggled her mind that it was only a few months ago… where did time go? And how did they get here, in a school run by a once presumed dead war leader and a woman that seemed to exude death from her presence alone?) she had been perfectly happy with Sam and the silence that he brought. Sure, they had eventually called it quits once she had realized she couldn't live in silence forever and he realized she needed to learn to shield herself from harm. It had been tough, but they were friends. And she had been okay being single again. Truly, she had. So how she'd come to crave noise- his noise, loud and obnoxious emotions that sent her body tingling and her mind reeling- she doesn't know. But it had happened and once she's finally just accepted it, the ball was in his court. Too bad for her though, because just as hesitant as she was, Riven was ten times more resistant to the pull that existed between the two of them. Musa remembers all the nights they'd sneak out and he'd teach her new moves with a staff and sometimes he'd let her use his swords, teasing her as she struggled under their weight. She'd head back to her suite before the sun came up, always frustrated because couldn't he see?! Couldn't he tell? Why else would she show up every single night without fail? Why else would she stick around when the training turned to teasing and taunting turned to conversations in hushed tones? Long story short, it took him being under mind control and her breaking it for him to just finally, finally kiss her. And from then on, it had been secret meetings in different corners of the school, in their rooms when no one else was around, and anywhere else they could find some privacy.

She's itching to cross the space that separates them currently and slip her arms under his jacket, an action that she'd first done on instinct but which had quickly become a habit once she had realized the effect it had on him. She's been eyeing him the whole night, fully aware of his gaze on her. There's a reason she hadn't argued with Stella when she'd been handed the lavender slip of a dress that she currently wore. She'd even managed to forgive the light fairy for the strappy silver heels she had practically forced into Musa's feet when she caught Riven staring up and down her bare legs.

"Musa? What is it? Are you ok?"

Bloom's worried tone pulls her back to reality and she forces herself to face away from Riven and toward the girls. She'd avoided this conversation for so long, but it had to come out at some point tonight and it had to happened before one of the girls found them in some shady corner with their clothes half off.

"Oh, no I'm fine! It's not that." Now, how to approach what it actually was?

Aisha's confused tone follows her reply, "Well, then, what is it?"

"Um, it's kind of a little complicated…" Musa's voice trails off and she has to physically stop herself from turning back to Riven to see if he's ok with this, with what she's about to say.

"Musa you're freaking me out a little here," Stella's eyes narrow at Musa's fidgeting her hands. Huh, she hadn't even noticed herself playing with the hem of her dress.

"Oh no! Did you actually kill that poor guy that tried to hit on you?" Terra sounds worried as Musa just groans at her words.

"Ughhh. Terra, we said we wouldn't talk about that."

"What guy?" Riven's question comes at the same moment as her whine, except his is louder and much more aggressive. All heads turn to him, and Musa curses the jealousy that she feels coursing through his veins right now. Damn it, couldn't he just keep it in long enough so she could explain to her suitemates what the hell was going on between them? His eyes are all rage and warning as he stares Terra down. And for some reason, she's all worked up at his gaze and doesn't know what to do with herself. She really shouldn't be so attracted to this side of him.

"What's it matter to you?" Aisha questions, eyebrow raising in his direction.

"It just does."

"Really, Riven? The middle school comeback? Classic."

"Stay out of it, Aisha. I wasn't talking to you."

They're bickering back and forth, and Musa can sense both their patience straining. This is not how she was hoping this would go. Finally, she steps between them, one hand on Aisha's shoulder and the other on Riven's chest. "Ok, that's enough."

Aisha glares his way one more time but steps back, Riven does not. Instead, he turns to Musa and asks her, "What guy, Musa?"

"It doesn't matter, Riven."

"It does to me."

"Well, it shouldn't. It was just some drunk dude with a bad haircut. That's it." She's trying to reassure him, to let him know that this thing they have going on isn't just something she's going to drop the first chance she gets for any guy that makes eyes her way. She knows that's one of his big insecurities. He has it in his head that he's not good enough to deserve this, something that isn't completely fucked up from the very beginning.

They're trading glances, a secret conversation of their own happening between them.

"No!"

All heads snap toward Bloom. The second she turns around, Musa knows that her redheaded roommate has figured it out. Bloom is grinning at the two of them, practically bouncing on her heels as she grabs onto Sky's arm and tugs on it. "Did you know about this?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

Sky (bless his soul) looks at his girlfriend with confusion evident in his face, "Know what?"

Except it's Stella that answers, "They're dating."

And then mayhem ensues and Musa suddenly wishes she had thought this through because she's feeling so much from so many people right now and she's not quite sure how to handle it. She tries to hide the wince that forms on her face as she tries to answer all the questions her friends are practically screaming her way, but Riven must have noticed it because he reaches for her hand and pulls her out of the circle the girls have formed around her and closer to him.

"Alight, that's enough." It's the rasp in his voice that sends her spiraling every time he speaks, and she's putty in his hands. It's pathetic, she should have more self-control than this. "Yes, we're dating. Yes, she's my girlfriend. And, Aisha, no I did not pay her or threaten her into it. Gods above!" He takes a sweep of the room, gesturing to all their friends with a hand as if to say 'you're all very welcome.'

"Any other questions?" No one speaks up. Not that Musa would have heard any of them because good gods, did she hear him right? Did he just say what she thinks he said? Is she his… girlfriend? They'd avoided so many labels for so long that it had completely slipped her mind to actually name this thing between then by the time that they had finally become something substantial. And she's been fine with that deal, with not having to name their relationship, but hearing him call her his girlfriend has send her body trembling, fire coursing through her veins and butterflies bursting in her stomach.

And then he's pulling her away, down the stairs that led them up to the roof and between hallways that blend into one another as her mind focuses on the way his hand grips hers and the lust (his? hers?) that seems to be engulfing her whole being.

She lets him lead her into his room, onto his bed, and just as he leans down to kiss her, she moves down and places a kiss on his neck instead. Looking up at him, she tests out the word that's taken over her brain since it left his lips, "Girlfriend?"

"Fuck. Is that not what this is? I, I don't know- I kind of figured- I don't know. Shit, sorry-" If she wasn't so very in love with the idea of being his girlfriend, his something (just his), she would have let his ramble continue. She didn't get to see this often, a flustered Riven, and it was a sight she found quite adorable. But, alas, she had other plans for tonight.

She bends her neck upward, uses her toes to push herself up the bed, and kisses him ever so lightly on the lips. Just enough so that he stops talking. A feather's whisper of a kiss, against which she purrs "That is exactly what this is if that's what you want it to be."

His eyes are black with want when he closes them and his hand comes up to trace the edges of her jaw. His breathing speeds up as he leans his forehead against hers, and that's how she knows he's trying to collect his thoughts, watching his words as he often does when he's scared he's about to make the wrong move, say the wrong thing. She swears she's going to get him to stop doing that around her, because she wants his thoughts, every single one of them, as raw as they are. She doesn't want the filtered version. And she can feel them, mingling into the background as his insecurity takes over. Her hands find their way to his jaw and now they're holding each other, "Tell me."

He opens his eyes, opens his mouth to tell her, just as she knew he would. He'd never deny her anything and she's learned that in the short time that they've been together. He'd collect the stars and fashion them into a necklace she could wear around her neck if she asked for the universe. He'd start and end a war if she so much as suggested it. He'd give her his soul, she thinks. All she needs to do is ask, and he breaks for her. Crack by crack. Splinter by splinter. Until he's cleaved wide open and she sees all of him.

"I do, want that. I want you." His voice is gruff, guttural. "What about you? What do you want?"

God, how does he still not get it?!

"You." A whisper, and then a kiss.

_______________________________________________________________

The first time he makes her cry, it's not because of something he said. It's because of something he did.

It had started like any other day- breakfast, classes, social gatherings at the end of the afternoon. Musa and Terra had just left botany lessons and were heading towards the specialists training grounds to meet up with Sky and Riven before they all went to grab dinner together. It had been all fun and games, Terra and her grumbling about how ravished they were and laughing along at each other's comments. But Musa had sensed the uneasiness that radiated from the training grounds the second they had rounded the corner of Alfea's large lawns. Silva was especially on edge, and the fact that he had all the upperclassmen and the best of the specialists lined up as he walked back and forth between them shouting orders could not be a good sign. And with an insane mastermind on the loose, Musa had feared the worst as anyone else would. She'd taken off running, and Terra had followed without any questions, trusting her instincts.

She only caught glimpses of Silva's orders. "… Five burned ones… Two upperclassmen faries out there already… We need to leave now- I'm going to need ten of you out ASAP. Five more will guard the school grounds… Any volunteers?"

Her heart stopped when in her peripheral vision, she saw Sky and Riven's hands go up. This would be the third one this month that they had volunteered for, and the last time they left the school grounds Riven came back with a broken foot that he's still limping along on. The word left her mouth before she could think about it, "No!"

He turned to her, surprised to find her standing among the specialists. "Musa?"

She can't be bothered to greet him, not right now, not when he's practically signing up for his own death. So, instead, she stares him straight in the eye and says it again. "No."

But Riven is as stubborn as she is, and she knows he's been itching to prove himself again, to make up for what he did under the control of Rosalind just a short while ago. His words crush her soul, "I volunteer for the outside team." He's talking to Silva, who's eyeing the two of them with an intrigued look on his face. He nods curtly at Riven's words. But Riven is looking at her, his jaw set and tilted upward with determination.

"Alright, Sky and Riven, you'll lead the charge. Get your weapons. We leave in five minute. Go!" And then he and Sky are running toward their weapons bags, Musa and Terra hot on their tracks.

She catches up to him just as he's strapping on his swords. Her hand comes to pull at his wrist, motioning for him to face her.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" He won't look at her, won't meet her eyes. "Riven, I'm talking to you! You can't just volunteer yourself up for everything that could kill you! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Whatever you're trying to prove, stop it!"

He's reaching for his fighting boots, switching into them. Whether he's just not listening or if he just doesn't care, she can't tell. She wants to kill him. She wants to kiss him.

"Please," she can't believe she's begging. "Please, Riven. Your foot. You can't-"

"I'm doing it, Musa." She sees fury, internalizes it before her insides form it into something tangible and she can see it, feel it. It's red and blinding and raging.

"I'm asking you not to." He won't say no to her, he hasn't done it yet. She asks and he cracks for her right? Right?

Wrong.

"LET'S GO, SQUADRON 1!" She barely registers what Silva's command means until Riven is standing up.

"I'm sorry, Musa." And she knows he means it, because when his hands fall to her shoulders, quick and rushed, they're firm. He leans down to kiss her goodbye or as a form of apologizing, she's not sure, but she turns her head away from him and he ends up kissing the space between her cheek and jawline. If he won't look at her, then she won't look at him. And if he won't listen to her, then she won't give him the satisfaction of her approval. It's petty, she know that. She senses his emotions deflate at her actions, the feeling of rejection cutting into his heart like a shard of glass ripping through flesh. But she's seen this movie before, she knows how this story ends. Too many specialists have left the school's walls wounded and eager to pick a fight, only to come back on the brink of death or even worse, they haven't come back at all. And the idea of him becoming one of those statistics hurts more for her than her rejection will ever hurt him.

She doesn't turn to watch him leave, but she hears his boots beating against the pavement as he rushes to catch up with Sky… and then silence.

She's so numb by now. Numb to death, to feeling, to crying. She doesn't cry. Not when Terra comes to hug her from behind. Not when they're back in the suite and Bloom is practically sizzling with anger at the fact that they didn't think to bring her along on the mission and that Sky is being sent on yet another mission. Not when it's midnight and Dowling informs that the specialists made it back safely.

She doesn't go down to greet them when the other girls rush out the door. Terra lingers in the doorway.

"You sure you don’t want to come?"

"I'm good." She's staring outside the huge window of their living room, refusing to look down at the ground and try to make out if someone is missing in the mass of specialists standing in the courtyard.

"Musa-" She feels pity and worry coming from Terra, and she doesn't want to deal with it right now. She just wants to be numb for a little while longer.

"I said, I'm good."

Once Terra is gone, she turns away from the window and goes to sit by one of the couches. She counts the floorboards by the main doorway of the Winx suite. One, two, three, four, five, six…

She counts them three times over before the door finally barges open, it's hinges creaking from the immense force of the push just enacted upon it.

Riven's eyes frantically search the room before they finally fall on her. He walks towards her, limps actually. (She knew his foot wasn't healed, no matter how much he insisted it was.) He has blood splattered on his right side. His or someone else's, who knows? And when he finally reaches her, and falls to his knees in front of her so that they're eye level with one another, she finally cries.

He reaches for her. She pushed him off. "Fuck you, Riven. Really, fuck you."

"I'm sorry. Muse, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I-"

"Why don't you ever listen? You keep walking into wars as if they're welcoming parties. Do you want to die?! Do you have a death wish? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She's being mean, unfair. She doesn't care. If asking won't work, maybe screaming will. And she's exhausted. Exhausted of worrying about him every time he leaves. Exhausted of wishing he would listen. Exhausted of fearing he's the one that didn't make it back, because it's almost been him so many times by now.

"I had to Musa." His voice is soft, odd in comparison to the loud tone he usually takes when they argue about this topic.

"You always have to! You don't have to prove anything Riven. And you most certainly don’t have to die for no fucking reason!"

"You don't get it-"

"So explain it to me!" He sighs deeply, and closes his eyes. "No, Riven. Explain it. What don't I get?"

He finally opens his eyes, throws a string of colorful swears at the ceiling before moving his gaze back to her. "It's not just proving something. It's that if I go and… if I go, then one less specialist has to go. And that's one less person with people that care about them having to go. And that's one less tragic death, and then a whole lot less people hurt. If I go… who cares, you know? And, honestly, shouldn't it be me? A taste of my own medicine and all that. After all the shit I helped Rosalind do." She senses his bitterness, feels his anger and destitute.

He's an idiot.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"And you're beautiful," he quips back. She watches that smirk that she's come to love make its way onto his face.

"Flattery won't get you very far in life, Riv." Except, maybe it will. Because somehow and for some reason she's here, and she's crying over him.

It's like he can read her mind, not the other way around, "I think it's gotten me pretty far as of right now. I mean, you're here." The look he gives her has her twitching in her seat and she has to remind herself that she still has more to say to him. She can't just let him off the hook that easily. He leans up to kiss her, and she places her hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.

"I care."

"What?" He's confused by her words.

"I care. If you go, and something happens. I care." She feels the surprise bloom from within him, and then a sense of overwhelming tenderness takes up his mind, and hers along with it. Her hands reach for him, " Come here."

This time, he obeys her. And as she kisses him, he cracks for her. Splinters for her. Lets her see him while he kisses her as if he's kissing her for the first time ever, ravaged and hungry for her. She sees it all- all of him falling into her and consequentially falling into place in her mind, in her heart. His insecurities, his fears, and his wishes. She doesn't shy away from him, but kisses him harder. His thoughts are exactly what she thought they were from the very beginning- a natural disaster. But she doesn't fear falling into them anymore, and in fact she thinks she likes them. She thinks she likes the way his mind works- ten emotions at one time battling to win out over one another. And when he pulls away, she likes the way his green eyes look at her like she's the whole world and the way his hands hold her tight enough for her to know that he doesn't think she's fragile but with enough care that she feels like she is all that he owns.

"Don't you ever," he's panting as he moves to place kisses along her jaw and at her collarbone, above her shoulders, anywhere the collar of her shirt will allow him. "Don't you ever pull away from me again."

She knows he's referring to the other afternoon, when he had left for the mission and she had closed off. "Why? Did I hurt your fragile ego?"

She's teasing, he's not. His hands are in her shirt and moving up, up, up until the offending piece of clothing is off of her. He's eager to kiss down her body, hands roaming the planes and curves that he must have memorized by now. He's kissing, kissing, kissing. Kissing away her tears, kissing right above her beating heart, kissing along her waistline. Frantic, needy, and-

Oh.

Oh. She thinks she's in love.

________________________________________________________________

The first time they slow down, she feels as though she has seen heaven.

Riven's lips on her lips, steady and firm yet gentle, as his hands lay splayed over her bare sides and his thumbs dig softly into the dips of her hipbones. One of her legs is tangled in the sheets around them and her other is hiked up above his hips, her heel digging into his spine. He moves inside of her, and when she feels her hips meet his, she slides her hands over his shoulders and lets her nails graze his back. He watches her below him, eyes asking if she's ok, she smiles at him and says, "Just… stay. Don't move for a bit."

And he does, closing the small space between them to catch her bottom lip between his teeth and pull on it before he continues with his love bites down her neck, behind her ears, onto her chest. He's making his way as far down as he can in their current position, and she's melting into him and fuck, she wants him to keep going. But she also wants him to slow down because she's on cloud nine right now and from up here she can see the stars in his eyes, can catch them between the kisses of his lips. Her hands move from his back, leaving behind what she can only assume is a mass of fresh red marks. They move to his chin as she drags him back up to meet her on that very cloud and then they're eye-level with one another once more. She feels the want form within him, she always does, but it’s an odd thing to actually see it emulated in his eyes. And there's something else there too, something she can't quite place and doesn't dare to assume of. When his lips brush hers for the umpteenth time, slowly shaping her name between them, she feels herself sink farther into him, a feat she had previously deemed impossible.

And her lips part in a whimper because oh good god, how had they never done this before? They were always so rushed, pulling at each other's clothes and stumbling into bed, falling into one another in a tangled mess of limbs and lust. Perhaps it was the fact that they had kept it in for so long, refusing to admit they liked each other and once they were together, not wanting to tell others for fear of shattering whatever fragile state they were in. Their relationship had started with fighting fueled by longing, innuendos charged with so many suggestions, and eventually an aching want that Musa still couldn’t wrap her mind around. Really, she shouldn't be surprised at how touch hungry the two of them had been at the beginning of the relationship. (How touch hungry they still were.) But right here in this moment, as she opens her eyes, she regrets not slowing down and taking him all in sooner.

He is a sight to behold, with tiny and larger scrapes all over his body that somehow added to his physique instead of taking away from it. They are tens of thousands of stars and she traces them over and over, forming constellations with his imperfections. The pads of her fingers run over the features of his face, committing every bit of him to memory, and as they skim the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, the question slips from her lips before she can stop herself.

"When did you get this one?"

He pulls away from her, just slightly so that he can see her face, and his eyes are darker than she's ever seen them as he lazily responds with a "Hmm?"

She's high on want and adrenaline, but she vaguely wonders if this is something he might not want to talk about. Too late to back out now. Plus, she'd like to know. "This scar. Above your eyebrow. How did you get it?"

Riven stiffens at her answer. She can feel his insecurity downing upon him, clouded by the desire and the want that still course through his body but slowly easing its way to the forefront of the battle that is his mind.

"I have them too," Musa whispers as she braces herself against his chest and heaves her body upward, brushing her lips against that very scar in question.

She moves back down again, and pulls her left arm slowly away from under him. She turns her head slightly to her left shoulder, using her index finger to point to a sliver of skin that's more taught and whiter than the rest of her. "I got this one when I was twelve. Tried to climb a tree that was too high off the ground. Had to get six stiches. My mom freaked out."

His eyeline follows her movements, and he stares at her shoulder for a few minutes. His gaze has her squirming a little, suddenly aware that she's naked in front of a boy she's very much into and that she has just pointed out one of the many flaws on her body. But then his eyes flicker upwards and he leans down and kisses her scar, just as she had kissed his.

"You're fucking perfect, you know that right?" She could cry.

"If you're trying to get in my pants, hate to break it to you, but they're already off," she teases, her voice soft and a smile on her lips. How else was she meant to respond?

He chuckles at her words, his laugh causing her to catch her breath as it does each and every time she hears it. It's an occasion that has become more common since they got together but which is still far and few in between. The sound vibrates off his body onto hers and has her writhing under him.

"Love, I would never consider your lack of garments a disappointment." He circles his hips above her, and she groans at the pressure. "And I would most certainly never forget being the one to take them off you, especially when you insist on making those noises."

Her eyes are blown wide as she grabs onto his forearm at the side of her head, where his fingers are buried in her hair. Her chest heaves up and down, up and down, heart beating so fast she's certain its rhythms are all in her mind and that it's no longer there. She's fairly sure she lost it somewhere between meeting him and getting here, to this moment.

He stops his teasing, opting instead to arch down once more and kiss the scar on her shoulder. He kisses it over and over until she feels her heartbeat slow down and her breath return to a somewhat normal pacing.

She tugs on his locks, silently motioning for him to come back up. Up he comes, and she's glad that she's somehow convinced him to continue denying her nothing.

"Tell me."

He knows she's referring to his scar.

They're nose to nose, foreheads touching, brown eyes boring into green ones.

"About a year and a half ago. Right when things started to get messy in my life. Messier than usual, I mean. Back then I was a bit of a nerd, hung out in the greenhouse all the time-"

"Yeah, I've heard a few stories from Terra," she cuts him off, a smile playing on her lips at the idea of Riven hunched over a lab bench with pretty vines all around him. It's a sight she hopes to one day see with her own two eyes, a side of him she knows she's so very close to opening up.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you know how much of a dick I was after I started distancing myself from them. Sky, he got real mad one day. We were in Specialism class, learning some new sword tricks. I said some shitty things and then he tried to play the Saint Sky card. I got mad, I fought dirty. Scraped his arm with the sword. He finally snapped at me, landed a good blow right above my eyebrow." He laughed a bitter laugh at the memory. "Nearly missed my eye, the wanker. He apologized for two months straight. Either way, we both ended up in the infirmary and I figured I couldn't get rid of him. He kept me around and I stayed, almost like when we were children and we fought over dumb shit like who was the taller. Only difference now is that his scar healed and mine stayed."

That last sentence was loaded with so much, and Musa wanted to ask more but she didn't want to push her luck. She smiled at him, nudging his nose with hers. "So you used to fight over who was taller? The mental image of a baby Sky and baby Riven getting angry over something like that is almost, dare I say, adorable?"

He scoffs. "We were not adorable! We were two very manly twelve-year-olds with very some very manly, very reasonable arguments."

"Mmm," she hums against his skin. "Is that what you two have to this day? Manly arguments?"

"Are we really bringing Sky into the conversation while we're in bed?" She laughs, a full on laugh that comes from within her because his words were not what she had expected. "If you must know, now we argue over who’s got the hotter girlfriend."

His eyes are all mischief when she shakes her head at him. "Glad to see you two have really grown up."

"And I'm glad that I got the hotter girlfriend, because I'm not sure how else you've managed to keep me completely turned on while bringing up my best friend in the middle of us fucking."

And then it's her turn to tease him, turning her head slightly to the side so that she can catch his earlobe between her teeth and whisper in his ear. "I'll make it up to you."

And then she's flipping them over so that she's on top and she feels his breath catch. She smirks down at him mischievously and then they're off again, finishing what they started. She makes sure to go slow, to feel every bit of him as she moves, catch every angle of him below her and store it in her mind for safekeeping.

And when it's over and he's lying on his stomach, back facing the ceiling, she moves herself on top of him once more. Only this time, she kisses every scar on his body, sometimes asking where and how he got them until he finally gets the hint and starts sharing their stories before she can even ask. There are so many of them, some tiny and some much more noticeable. All of them have stories. She vows to herself that she will one day know all of them. That she will be there to soothe the next scrape, the next trauma. With each one of her kisses, she can feel the natural disaster within him reach a rhythm, not quite silenced but at peace.

They don't sleep that night. Only once she's sure she's kissed every inch of his body does she finally worm her way back into his arms, but they're both wide awake at that point. His eyes watch her in the dark, hair loose and splayed around them like some sort of blanket. It had been in pigtails at one point in the night.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"I…I just," words knot in his mouth. His eyebrows furrow at her in frustration as he tries to untangle and spell them out for her. "God, I love you."

Just for that, she kisses his body all over again. And again. And again.

________________________________________________________________

Their first times have been nothing short of unexpected. It's never how either of them imagined all these firsts would go. They're not soft and tender, though there are moments like that in-between, but neither had expected that. Their raging passions did not allow for it. But what they had expected was a lot more arguing, a lot more push and pull. Instead, they seemed to somehow fall right into each other- crash and burn style, no holding back.

Their firsts were painful lessons that needed to be learned. They were gnawing pains that needed to be had, throbbing emotions that had to be felt and delt with. They were stinging feelings, these firsts- stinging because they felt too much too soon and too fast and neither knew what to do with all of that expect for let it bubble until it exploded before them in an aching manner.

Their aching firsts.

#rivusarevolution2021 #rivusa #this is pure angst #I can't say I'm sorry for writing it #firsts

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nochawkins · 2 years

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rudy pankow & he&his/cismale. watch out , noah hawkins has crash-landed into roswell !! they look twenty-three years old and celebrate their birthday on the twelfth of august. they are from roswell, new mexico, resides in tripps trailer park and are currently working as a mechanic at sandy’s autobody. one thing you should know about him is that he stole a car when he was twelve.

trigger warnings : alcoholism , domestic abuse , mention of bullying

okay !! so i swapped jade in for this new baby . I just want to say something . I realize the trigger warnings in this is pretty heavy and I don’t want anyone to feel like they have to read his biography because of it ( if you want me to give you like a quick run-through instead , shoot me a message and I can do that ) . No one should EVER feel like they have to read or interact with anything they’re not comfortable with . I do want to add though , it’s a small part of his story and it won’t come up that often . And if it does , I will make sure to trigger warn those threads !! 💕💕💕💕

SHORT INTRODUCTION

NAME : noah hawkins

AGE : twenty-three years old

BIRTHDAY : August 12th, 1998

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Heterosexual

OCCUPATION : mechanic / sandy’s autobody

CONNECTION : none

BIOGRAPHY

Growing up , Noah and his family didn’t have everything that other kids his age had . Neither of his parents were rich ; far from it , actually . His Dad lost his job when Noah was seven years old , after he hurt himself in an accident at home , that made it hard for him to work . That definitely put a strain on the family dynamic . Noah had a good relationship with his mom though and he loved her more than he could ever imagine and describe . She was the one who put food on the table and to begin with , things seemed fine . Things were okay , but it didn’t take long for things to change and things to get complicated .

The fact that Noah’s home life was a sore subject , kind of slid into his life at school as well . He got into a lot of trouble at school , often getting into fights because people would talk shit about his Dad and his Mom , saying how his Dad was a failure because he didn’t help out at home and how he was a drunk and worth nothing . At first , this obviously really hurt him and he was mad because while his Dad had his issues , he was still Noah’s Dad . He was still his family . The bullying that Noah went through , definitely toughened him up and it also made it more difficult for people to get close to . He would often come home with a black eye and a note from the principal , telling his parents the stuff he had been up to .

This though , took a further toll on his relationship with his Dad , especially . He had continued to drink through the years and it really got worse with every single day passing by . When Noah was seventeen , it was early when he woke up to his parents yelling at each other. He got up and quickly went out to see the commotion and as he did , he saw his Dad hit his mom across the face . He instinctively jump in-between them and tore his Dad away , which ended up with his Dad , who was drunk , beating up his son so bad that his mom had to call for an ambulance . His Dad somehow managed to slip out and since then , neither his Mom or Noah , has seen him again . He left and never turned back and truth be told , it was for the best . Life got better after he left , too . His mother got a better paying job and Noah stayed with her until he went to college , which was definitely something he needed .

Ever since he was a little boy , he was into cars and bikes . And therefore , he knew that he wanted to work in that type of a profession and he took those classes in College and he was lucky enough to get an internship with Sandy’s autobody , which is where he works now too ; getting a job after showing off extreme skills in his choice of work .

PERSONALITY TRAITS

POSITIVE : Funny , adventurous , outgoing , independent , hard-working

NEGATIVE : Reckless , stubborn , sarcastic , selfish , angry

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jjuzoir · 3 years

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Kumon Hyodo Relationship HCS

Request: “Do you do hcs for act 2 characters? If you do can you dating hcs for kumon pls. It's okay if you can't ❤️❤️love your blog ^_^” from anonie

A/N: omg of course^^ thanks for requesting !! i’m literally in love with the act 2 rookies especially kumon he’s so cute i’m !! he’s literally so cute and nice and ahh.... i love him i’d literally die for him ( i’m writing this listening to a lindsey lohan career recap (?) so sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol yeah )

Word Count: 1282

- Realistically, you’re probably his first S/O ever. He’d always been so busy with baseball and Juza, and that’s not even mentioning all the times he’d get sick.

- Kumon never had been able to really look for a s/o, he’d always wanted one - just the thought of being able to have someone next to him all the time he can talk to and love and who’ll praise him gets him all pumped up.

- So when he meets you, he gets a little puppy crush on you. He didn’t think he’d manage to actually date you, he’d just joined the Summer Troupe and he felt the need to prove himself as an actor and member of the company, plus he’d never been lucky with romance.

- He gets shocked when you start reaching out to him and before he realizes you two start hanging out more and more, in a way he’s kind of dense - in his head his feelings for you were one sided and he’d never actually get a chance to act on them - and he never really realizes you might return his feelings until Banri of all people mention it.

- Once he does realize, oh boy - he’s so scared but after encouragement from the rest of the Summer troupe + Azami (who lectured him on what was and wasn’t allowed during dating) he decides he’s gonna give it a shot.

- The day he confessed to you he was blushing furiously to the point you almost called Juza worried he had gotten a fever, but Kumon quickly reassures you everything is fine and that he’s just kind of nervous - something that had immediately caught your interest.

- His hands are all clammy and he thinks he’s never been this nervous and excited ever, but as he sees you staring at him - wondering why he’d called you so suddenly - he decides it’s now or never.

- “[Name]... I- we’ve known each other for some time and I was- I was wondering if you’d like to, uh, go on a date with me?” His normally confident persona seems to have shrunk significantly as he tried finding the rights words to say to you, he could feel his heat bearing out of his rib cage.

- Of course, seeing a guy like him - normally loud and proud - all shy and nervous was endearing, and you couldn’t quite deny the fact you had a crush on him; and so you two start dating.

- “I’d like that a lot too, Kumon!”

- Kumon is just a very physical guy, he likes hugs and cheek kisses, holding pinkies while walking back home after school. He’s just a PDA type of guy, what can he say.

- Whenever he gets down or worried he likes having you there around to hug, to him it’s a reminder that you’re there and you’re not leaving. You don’t even have to say much, just the physical affirmation that you’re there is enough to help him.

- He’s also kind of emotional, he gets carried away easily and he’s not afraid to let you know how he feels about you or things in general.

- He won’t force you into playing baseball, but he loves the idea of you taking an interest in the sport. You don’t have to know much but asking him about it, what certain terms mean, about players and teams you saw on TV; knowing that you’re just trying to engage in something so special to him has him wide eyes with a bright red flush as he explains the basics of a move you saw on yesterday’s match.

- Since he’s like a total health junkie once you two start dating he’s becoming your coach, he’s always asking you about what’s you’d eaten or how much you slept, if you’d gone out for a walk or maybe a run, if you do a sport he’d ask you about your practice or how you’re doing in general in regards to it.

- It’s his way of showing he cares as subtly as a guy like Kumon can.

- Fights or arguments aren’t common, since Kumon tends to be a very good communicator and he’s naturally very empathetic towards those around him - he isn’t weak though and if he deems it something important to him (like acting or Juza) he won’t back down - he thinks finding a compromise is more important than either his or your pride.

- Dates with him feel young and fun, they’re never too complicated like the ones someone like Azuma or Homare might take you out on but they’re just as thoughtful.

- He remembers things you like very well, so if you mention being into something like gardening or art he’d take you to a park with some cool plants he heard about from Tsumugi or a museum with an exhibition Kazunari recommended him.

- To him, once you’re in his life, you become one of the most important people to him alongside Juza. He really values both of your opinions, even on small things like getting a jacket over another.

- It’s kind of essential if you’re dating Kumon to get along with Juza, he’d get really torn if he found out both of you didn’t get along and it’d definitely take a toll on his mental health and it would kinda break his spirit.

- (You getting along with Azami would be a nice plus too, if he’s honest - he cares about those two a lot and seeing three people he loves getting along makes him smile and want to run a few laps around the courtyard.)

- Kumon doesn’t care much about gifts but he’s also the kind to work really hard in figuring out what he’s gonna give you for a birthday or special occasion. He’d probably settle for something like a baseball jacket with the number 9 on it and a matching one for him too, he’d probably ask Yuki and Kazunari to help him design it.

- Oh boy, if anyone says anything negative about you’d he’d go to war.

- He does have his moments of insecurities, he can feel like he’s too much of a pain for others or fear that he might be wasting your time on a guy like him; so while hugs and physical affection can help him, in those moments telling him you love him and that things will be okay tend to work the best.

- “Kumon… you’re doing your best and it’s okay! No one is blaming you, you’re doing more than enough just now, so please - take it easy today, Juza, Azami, and I… not just us, but the troupe too, we all care for you so much,” you could feel smile as you hugged his head to your chest, “it’s okay, Kumon…”

- In return he’d pull away with teary eyes and a blush, from both your words and the worries that had plagued his mind, and smile at you; “Thank you, [Name].”

- He’d probably also be the type to send you text you during the most awkward times, it could be at like 10PM during a school-night asking for help on a chemistry problem or 4AM on a weekend because he had a dream about you.

- Kumon would rather call you over the phone over texting, probably because he likes rambling at you – like, he’d start talking about baseball and the Summer troupe and suddenly he’d start talking about a shop he visited with Azami and then he’d remember an article he’d read about spinach and tomatoes and he’d remember he’d helped Taichi dye his hair red kinda like a tomato.

- Overall, Hyodo Kumon is a puppy in love who loves sharing his passions with you and would literally fight Banri and Sakyo for your honor.

#—🎀 a3!!#a3!#act addict actors #act! addict! actors!#a3! x reader #a3 x reader #kumon hyodo #hyodo kumon #a3 kumon #a3! kumon #kumon hyodo x reader #kumon x reader #hyodo x reader #a3 kumon x reader #a3! fanfic #a3! imagines #a3 fanfic #a3 imagines #—✒️ sora’s scripts

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snailsnfriends · 3 years

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Dream SMP and the Effects of Grimdark Media: An Essay

Hello! For those who don’t me, I am snail, and I have been interested in the Dream SMP since October, but joined the Tumblr community not too long ago. As a writer and actor myself, the work of those on the Dream SMP has absolutely blown me away. However, I and others have noticed a trend in the writing of the Dream SMP: a good sum of it is very grimdark, and I began to notice people really feeling the effects of that, and I wanted to look more deeply into it, and how that can be altered.

NOTE: I am completely aware that all of the writers on the Dream SMP are amateurs, and likely do not have any sort of “training” other than what they were taught in school. I would not be critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP if I did not believe that it could be “fixed.” Later in this essay, I offer suggestions to “fix” the problem that I’m bringing up. All references to factual information used in this essay will be linked at the end.

Now, before we can talk about the Dream SMP and its writing, first we need to figure out what grimdark media is and how that affects those who watch it.

What is grimdark media?

According to the google the definition of grimdark is “(of fiction, especially fantasy fiction) characterized by disturbing, violent, or bleak subject matter and a dystopian setting.”

So now that we’ve established what grimdark is, how does depressing media, or any form of media for that matter, affect our emotions as the viewer?

As we are consuming any form of media, whether it’s a movie, a TV show, a book, a podcast, a live theatrical performance, or a Dream SMP lore stream, we as the viewers are completely aware that what we are watching is purely fictional, and that those who are performing are acting. None of the events are real, none of the characters are real, and none of the settings are real.

So why do we react so heavily to certain moments? Why do we cry during heavy lore streams if we know that none of it is real?

A lot of it has to do with the human capacity to feel empathy/sympathy. Empathy allows us to understand the experiences of others, even complete strangers. Sympathy, on the other hand, allows us to share the feelings and/or emotions of others. As we are consuming media, we are aware that all of it is fake, but we still feel empathy and/or sympathy for the characters. So much so that a physical response, such as crying, is a result.

Even though the characters of the Dream SMP are not real, a lot of their characters’ responses to traumatic events ARE, so we as an audience sympathize with them heavily. For example, c!Tommy shows very clear signs of PTSD after being killed by Dream, such as extreme emotional distress or physical reactions to something that reminds the victim of the event (c!Tommy freaking out after taking fall damage), trying to avoid discussing the even or avoiding activities, people, and places that remind the victim of the event (c!Tommy refusing to go into depth about what happened to him), memory problems (does not really remember how long he was dead for), easily startled, always on guard, extremely irritable, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior, and difficulty keeping close relationships (his current relationship with c!Tubbo).

Even though we as an audience know that c!Tommy and his experiences aren’t real, his reactions to these experiences are realistic, and can be relatable to a lot of viewers, those with PTSD and those without (which is why it is VERY important to be careful with your word choice when discussing these characters; this connects with the problem of villainizing characters with mental illnesses, but that’s another topic for another day). We as viewers empathize with c!Tommy because it is likely that we have reacted the same way to traumatic events, and we understand them fully. They may remind us of our past and/or current selves, so we react emotionally to them.

We as people also mirror the reactions and emotions of others. If someone starts to cry, real or fictional, it’s likely that you will as well. If someone is angry, you will likely get angry as well. This is not odd, and is very normal for humans to do. Regardless, getting angry or crying are emotional responses, and will hurt you in some way.

Another thing to note is that this fandom is made up of mostly minors, and some of the most traumatized characters on the Dream SMP are also minors. It can be hard to watch kids your own age go through so much, even fictional ones. As an adult, it can be just as hard to watch these young kids go through so much, especially when you try to compare those characters to who you were at their ages.

Even those who have not gone through these events will likely sympathize with these characters heavily because what they have gone through is emotionally heavy. Because of all of this, watching heavy lore streams can have a negative effect on a viewer’s mental health.

Okay, so why is the Dream SMP storyline at the moment so dark and angsty? Why do people keep engaging with it if it is negatively affecting their mental health?

This sort of “angst spiral” of sorts is usually something I notice in fanworks such as fanart or fanfiction. It is sometimes a lot more fun to write or draw heavy, emotional moments, and they garner more attention.

It sort of goes like this: the plot has a normal amount of angst in it for the story, and at this point it is balanced with more happy or “fluffy” content, the angst gets more attention from fans, the writer (or in the case of the Dream SMP, writers) notice this and write more angst as a response but it is still bearable, the audience feeds off of this heavily and create more fanart/fanfiction/theories based on it, writer really notices this and (understandably) comes to the conclusion that angst/grimdark things are the best/easiest way to get the audience excited for the plot, the plot gets very very grimdark and is not balanced out with any upbeat moments, random angst plots are started with no real ending in sight despite that not being the original plan for the character/plot (feet are too small for the big shoes) and the rare upbeat moments are short/not given any attention, and at this point, it can be almost unbearable to watch because the plot has become too grimdark. Once we reach this point, or even a few before it, it can cause a big toll on the viewers’ mental health.

The reason why someone who has been negatively affected by the grimdark content of the Dream SMP may still watch it is because the Dream SMP has not always been this way, and the writers have proven that they can do upbeat/fluffy content, so they keep watching. A big example of this is the Disc War Finale. Although the first half of it was more angsty, the final parts where everyone came together to put c!Dream in jail and to protect c!Tommy and c!Tubbo was upbeat and even a bit cathartic to watch. C!Tommy and c!Tubbo sitting on the bench, listening to their discs together in the end was much needed for the audience. This can even be seen in smaller examples, like c!Tommy exclaiming, “I’m free!” while flying around with c!Dream’s trident, or c!Tubbo and c!Ranboo adopting Michael and getting married.

The Dream SMP also may be someone’s hyperfixation, so they are unable to simply stop watching.

So now that we know all of this, what can the writers of the Dream SMP do to fix this, and what can we as viewers do to help ourselves out?

As I said in the note before this essay, I will be citing examples of a more balanced lore/angst plot that the writers have shown that they are capable of doing.

The writers:

Make designated lore streams shorter

The best example of this is c!Tommy’s 25-30 minute prison streams. These streams were short, sweet, and to the point. We got all of the “lore” we needed quickly, and if you happened to miss it, it was easy to watch it back later. If the lore bits were too heavy to watch, then you would not be missing too much.

I know that this is definitely not always possible, so this is most likely the best way to go:

Balance out lore and funny bits in streams

Cc!Tommy’s last lore stream, pretty much all of the Pogtopia streams, and most of cc!Tubbo’s streams are like this. They are a mix of lore and funny moments where the CCs are actually speaking and joking with each other. These are a lot easier to watch because it is not heavy the entire time. The joking moments provide a break in between the angst, and it can also be used as a good way to remind the audience that the Dream SMP is purely fictional. These streams are also better for those who do not really care for the lore and would rather just watch the CCs mess around with each other.

For me, these funny moments are what caused me to fall in love with the Dream SMP and the creators behind it, and I know that the same applies to a lot of people in this fandom. I think this would probably be the best way for the Dream SMP to operate around lore.

The viewers

Try to take a break from lore streams if it becomes too much

As I stated before, the Dream SMP is not real, but the characters’ reactions to events can be very realistic and hard to watch. If things become too much for you, try to take a break from it. Stop watching the stream, don’t go on social media if you follow stan accounts or Dream SMP dedicated blogs, and go do something that calms you down. If you feel that you’re feeling good enough to go back to the stream, go ahead! If not, then that’s completely okay too!

Follow lore recap accounts/blogs to stay up to date on the lore

The fear of missing lore streams is centered largely around missing something crucial. There are plenty of accounts on Twitter and blogs on Tumblr that recap lore streams so you can stay up to date on the plot without having to watch the streams.

The VODs will be there to watch later

If things are too much, remember that you do not have to watch the streams in real-time. You can always watch them later if you aren’t in the right headspace to watch them live.

Conclusion

The Dream SMP’s writing and acting is very impressive. The amount of awesome fanart, fanfiction, analysis posts, and other work is absolutely amazing. It is so cool that so many people enjoy this Minecraft roleplay so much. The amount of people who love it is good proof that the writers are doing an amazing job, and the amount of people having an emotional response to it shows the same thing. However, the amount of angst can be hard to watch and can put the writers in a tough spot to get out of.

I have a lot of faith in the writers of the Dream SMP, and I believe that it is possibly on the right track, with Tommy’s latest lore stream being an example of this. I really do think that the amount of grimdark content can be altered and streams can be easier and more fun to watch. Hopefully we’ll get a more mixed bag of lore and angst soon to make things more enjoyable for everyone involved.

Sources:

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20355967

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-moral-molecule/200902/why-we-cry-movies

https://www.vice.com/sv/article/exqgqm/why-do-we-cry-when-we-watch-films

https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/sympathy-empathy-difference

#dream smp #dreamsmp #dream smp analysis #dreamwastaken #c!dream #tommyinnit #c!tommy #tubbo #c!tubbo #ranboo #c!ranboo #long post #dream smp essay #snailtrail.slimes

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ichorizaki · 4 years

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monsters — i.h.

꒰ ❛ genre ❜ ꒱ — fluff ; college!au

꒰ ❛ pairing ❜ ꒱ — senior!iwaizumi hajime x senior!gn!reader

꒰ ❛ warnings ❜ ꒱ — teeth-rotting fluff, curse words

꒰ ❛ word count ❜ ꒱ — 2.6k

˚ ༘ˀˀ ꒰‧⁺ a text from sol — ✎ˀ i got inspired upon reading a text post reposted onto pinterest, so enjoy some domestic iwa-chan! i’m considering opening up a taglist too but i’m not too confident.... huhu

-`,✎ synopsis! ; ♡ throughout his entire life, iwaizumi hajime has been fighting all sorts of monsters. he’s just thankful that you were there by his side the whole time with your unwavering support and uplifting words of kindness. this time however, you defeated the biggest monster that he’s faced yet with just one word.

Iwaizumi Hajime could remember one of the first few times he felt fear. It was one of the hottest days of summer with the sun high and mighty in the sky, sometime about two decades ago when he was still young and the world seemed so huge compared to him. He and Oikawa were playing in his yard, a volleyball that fit snugly into a child’s hands being thrown back and forth. He remembered Oikawa being terrible enough to serve the ball too far and it went into the small nest of trees just beyond the brick fence barricading his house.

It was stark as day—the heavy, accelerated thump, thump, thumping of his unsteady heart, the tremor of his tiny hands, the quiver of his bottom lip, and the clear tears turning his vision into a terrifying blend of summer colours. He remembered how the fear slithered from his feet to his shoulders, taunting and whispering untrue threats and poisonous anxieties into his ears as he tried to help an equally distressed Oikawa stand. The first fear; the first monster that took form in his small body.

He had abrasions on his knees and elbows, dirt and emerald leaves stuck in his messy brown locks as tears streamed down his face. Oikawa had fallen down from the tree he climbed to inspect a long forgotten kite while trying to get the volleyball that he served into a tree.

“You’re lucky that you didn’t suffer too badly, Toorū,” his mother chided gently. She had always been patient and gentle with them, fixing any wounds be it physical or emotional. “Now, now, Hajime, Toorū will be okay.” The smile that blossomed on her face was like a healing flower, spreading warmth through his body like sunshine as she kissed them both on their temples slick with summer sweat.

For a while, it was just him and Oikawa, fighting their onslaught of tiny gremlins of fears as they grew. The gremlins grew with every fear they overcame, and eventually developed into a monster that lurked in the background wherever they went. Creeping, waiting, watching in the shadows. Iwaizumi remembered his first monster like it was just yesterday: the dark.

It was his first sleepover that wasn’t just him and Oikawa. The new person was you, L/N Y/N, their shy second grade classmate. Oikawa was eager to have you join them, wanting you to be comfortable and never left out. That was your first mini monster—the shyness of a lurking child who was too afraid to show the world who they were—and thanks to Oikawa’s lovely hospitality and friendliness, you managed to defeat it without lifting a finger.

Iwaizumi never forgot the monster he faced that night, because you were there with your stunning smile.

Everything in the Oikawa household was still, tendrils darkness slithering their way from the deepest, darkest corners and trapping the house under its nighttime curse. Iwaizumi didn’t know what time it was, but everyone was asleep. He wanted to go to the toilet, but his childhood was peacefully sleeping as he held on to his bunny plushie.

That was when you had stirred awake. You were bleary-eyed, half-awoken from his broken whimpers of frustration. You rose from the futon you were given, curious as to why your new friend was awake in the middle of the night.

“Iwaizumi-kun?” Your voice was soft and gentle; a blanket of comfort wrapping around his shoulders as he looked over at you. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.” Maybe it was the way you phrased your words, how they eloquently became mini candlelights in his heart, or maybe it was the way you had immediately gotten up from your futon and waddled over to sit in front of him, clutching onto your comfort teddy bear, because he found himself spilling his concerns to you.

“I . . . I want to go to the toilet but it’s dark and scary outside.”

Oh, but the smile that you gave him was blinding.

“My grandma taught me this trick: if you’re scared of monsters in the dark, make louder, weirder noises to scare them off!” His mossy eyes glimmered in the pale moonlight with excitement of this newfound knowledge. “I can hold your hand and follow you. I need to go to the toilet, too.” The sheepish grin on your face was one he would always keep close to his heart, and he was glad that it never changed even when you grew.

As you held onto his hand, you held onto the vow that you made. You could tell how scared he was with the heavy, hesitant steps that he took and how sweaty his palms had grown. You were also scared, but you couldn’t show that to your new friend! You had to be brave, and brave you were as you took the lead in screaming high-pitched, garbled nonsense into the dark corridors. Eventually, he joined in as you both raced down the stairs, giggles bubbling from your lips as you made your way to the toilet near the kitchen.

You heard footsteps when you were finishing up in the toilet. You didn’t want Iwaizumi to be scared so you quickly washed your hands and threw open the door to find Oikawa’s parents looking incredibly concerned. With a proud grin, you told them what you did and they looked at each other with a smile you could never quite describe before bending down to your heights.

“Well, that’s brave of you, L/N-chan,” his mother praised. You sported a grin that boasted pride. “C’mon, let’s get you two back to bed, shall we?” Iwaizumi took your hand in his as he held Oikawa’s dad’s in the other.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore, Iwaizumi-kun,” you promised. “I’m here and I’ll always be here for you.”

Not once had you let go of that promise. Not even when the both of you got into fights that threatened the life of your friendship, or when someone’s heart broke little by little as the other held hands with someone else with a smile that they wished they could be the cause of. You were stubborn and so was he, and sometimes it felt like both of your obstinacy was the saving line. Rain or shine, come hell or high water, you were there for him and he was there for you.

The fears—these monsters that came in all forms and sizes—kept coming at him. Not only did they hurt him, but they had also hurt you and Oikawa, and he had always placed the blame on himself even when the both of you told him not to.

University life is hard. He had to juggle part time work and studies, and he barely had time to himself, let alone with you. The rare days that he gets to press pause on everything and lay in bed with you, his significant other of two years, he cherishes them.

“Y/N,” his gruff voice called out for you. You turned around and his bulking tanned arms trapped your figure in his warm embrace. His face was inches away from your as you lay there chest-to-chest. He could never get tired of staring at your face. From the dips and curves of your facial structure to the way your stunning eyes glow no matter what, he could never get enough.

The pillows of your soft lips pressed against his and he found himself chasing your lips for a longer kiss as you pulled away with a gentle chuckle. It pulled him out of his reverie, a small smile playing on his lips as his fingers reached up to push your hair away from your face. The late afternoon sun was warm against his skin and yours but the air conditioning soothed the warmth like a gulp of freshly iced water.

“Remember when I asked you to be my significant other?”

“How could I ever forget, Hajime?” Your laugh—god, your laugh was so divine—filled his ears and made the purple lilacs in his heart bloom. “It was our final year in Seijōh and you were so nervous that you practically bawled your eyes out after you confessed.” Your beautiful eyes creased into lovely half-crescents, your cheeks so soft as he pinched them gently for teasing him. He, too, eventually found himself laughing along.

It was one hell of a big monster that he fought. It grew and grew until it ate him up alive—he absolutely had to tell you how he felt or he would probably feel himself die a little bit inside if he didn’t tell you.

The both of you remembered the spring when you received your high school graduation certificates. The breeze was cool and sweet against your skin where it was exposed. It was the final day that you would be wearing the Seijōh uniform, and never had you thought that you would be so attached to it. You stared at the school as the bell tolls, signalling that another hour had gone by.

You could hear the chirping of birds in the distance, overlapping laughter and chatter as the graduating cohort loiters in the school yard that you were all gathered at. Everyone was taking pictures with their friends and family with tearful goodbyes and promises floating into the air like helium balloons. Your final year was over.

“Y/N-chan!” Toorū’s voice managed to reach you from among the crowd. You were surprised to find Iwaizumi by his side instead of the same flock of female admirers. You walked towards them, butterflies getting restless in your stomach from the way Iwaizumi was looking at you as the three of you met halfway. “So this is it, huh?”

“Stop being so negative, Idiotkawa!” Iwaizumi smacked the back of his head.

“You’re not some shōjō manga hero,” you grumbled at the same time.

“You’re both so mean! Mean!” Toorū whined as he rubbed the sore spot, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as his lower lip jutted out into a pout. You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“Let’s go back to my place. My parents decided to cook up a whole feast for the three of us with,” Iwaizumi offered. You parents weren’t necessarily the celebratory type, so you were just glad that you had your best friends to celebrate the end of your secondary education. You eagerly accepted the invitation with a bright smile, ready to walk with them when he blocked your path. “But before that . . .” He looked over at his childhood friend expectantly. A knowing smile broke upon his face.

“I’ll wait for you two at the entrance, then.” Oikawa didn’t say another word and left the both of you alone. Part of you kind of knew what he wanted to say, but there was this small twisted voice that told you no, that it wasn’t possible for someone as perfect as Iwaizumi would ever reciprocate your feelings for him.

“L/N Y/N.”

“Y-Yes?” Your eyes snapped back to meet his alluring moss green eyes, speckled with the golden rays of sunlight as he looked straight at you. His gaze was unwavering until his eyes left your face, betraying his confident front. You could tell that he was nervous. He was wiping the sweat from the palms of his hands on the sides of his uniform pants. His eyes kept darting between you and the floor, and his lips were parted, trying their best to form words but nothing seemed to come out. “Iwa-chan?” You softly prompted.

“I like you.” That was more than enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Your heart was soaring higher than it had ever gone, wings fluttering in absolute ecstasy as the butterflies in your stomach wreaked havoc out of pure joy. “Fuck, that probably didn’t cut it. Um– shit. I, uh. L/N Y/N, I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, okay? Ever since we were kids, you’ve been there for me. You helped me and that dumbass whenever we were in need. Even when we fought, we made up, and not once had you held a grudge against me even when I’ve hurt you. You’re the best person that I have in my life ten years ago, today, and ten years from today, and probably forever. If you’d let me, I want to hold your hand and kiss your tears away and be your boyfriend.”

You were left speechless. You stared back at him, jaw slacked and eyes wide in shock. At your lack of response, he began to panic. He began to ramble at how you didn’t need to give him an answer that instant or how he needed to get his feelings known and acknowledged by you. It was so silly of him.

“Iwaizumi Hajime, stop that,” you laughed, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes. He fell silent as he watched you take both of his large, calloused hands in your much smaller ones. “I thought I was the only one who felt that way. I’m in love with you too, Iwa-chan.”

Just like that, the biggest grin that you had ever seen on him broke out. You found yourself in tears, and he, too, was so overwhelmed with feelings that he was physically fighting to keep the tears at bay. This euphoric feeling was one that the both of you kept close to your hearts, even when you felt it almost every day.

“Y’know,” his voice was gentle against your bare skin, nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as the both of you reminisced the good times. You hummed in response to prompt him forward. “I’ve been thinking . . .”

“What is it, baby?” The palm of your hands were two soft cushions cupping his jawline as you made him look into your eyes. He had always had a problem with eye contact when it came to speaking from his heart. You found it deeply endearing.

“I know we’re still young and all that, but I’m so fucking sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You mean the universe to me and I want to grow old with you.” You could feel the unsteady thump, thump, thumping of his unsteady heart as he slowly poured his heart out to you; the slightest tremble in his calloused, volleyball-worn hands as they nervously held on to your frame, the pads of his thumbs rubbing gentle circles as if to calm himself down for what he’s about to say. You weren’t dumb—you kind of knew what he was getting at. He wasn’t exactly subtle when he pointed out rings at the jewelry store downtown when the both of you went out on a date last week. “L/N Y/N, I love you with every single fibre of my being. Will you marry me?”

You knew he was scared. You knew he was nervous. You knew he was trying his hardest to keep his cool. He knew that you knew all these; why wouldn’t you? You knew him just like the back of your hand, as he did you. This monster was one hell of a headache. He had practiced the speech over and over again, even going so far as to ask Hanamaki or Matsukawa to roleplay, albeit terribly, as you. But you—oh, you—managed to slay this monster with just a single word.

The corners of your lips curled into a delectable smile. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that was way too quick for his liking, but it was full of love and adoration nonetheless. His stunning eyes were still fixed on your face as his unsteady heart waited for your answer. The pink of your lips parted, saying the one word that doubled the euphoria that he had felt the day that they had graduated: “Yes!”

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