#I’m not telling which book. I’m gatekeeping that too

[avataroftheglowcloud]

me, autistic, deciding between writing an essay on my interpretation of a *famous* book, and gatekeeping how the book impacted me because nobody else is gonna get it like I do

[meadowmousey]

Modern aesthetic is based on consumerism

Seriously. If you look up like fairycore or Whimsigoth (using these as examples bc i love that vibe) all you will see are items to purchase. Which is what capitalism and consumerism have done to us as a society. We base our identities not off of what we are, but rather what we have. We create profiles for ourselves irl to look like the kind of person that does xyz. It’s made subculture feel hollow and vapid.

I am sososososo sick of this. Let’s not walk the walk, let’s talk the talk too. I want to hear your fairycore playlists. I want to know the activities that make someone that. I want to know what books are whimsigoth. Let’s create an *actual* subculture rather than a fashion trend that will have us throwing our items away in a year.

I’m gonna rb this later with how I’m gonna start defining these particular aesthetics. I want to belong to an actual community of people with a shared interest, not just a shared wardrobe. It should be about so much more than just what we look like! It’s about shared values and thinking. Let’s actually have a philosophy behind this.

*before anyone comes for me, yes clothes and overall look are valid things to have an interest and passion for, and are a big part of aesthetic/subculture, and I love my wardrobe but I want to see more than JUST items! I love fashion but I want to partake in something deeper than simply a micro fashion trend and I feel like subculture lately is really lacking in anything BUT items, but I’m not trying to gatekeep nor tell anyone that they’re not good enough/doing it right! Let’s all be kind to each other plz*

[jaytriesstrangerthings]

Not Sick Fic

744 words of Eddie not being sick and Steve not finding him endearing.

---

“I’m not sick,” Eddie argues, punctuating his argument with an aggressive sneeze followed by harsh hacking.

“Are you holding a loogie in your mouth right now?” Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head in what the Party has taken to calling his Mom Stance (trademark pending).

In a disgusting display of defiance, Eddie swallows. “No.” 

There’s a glob of neon yellow snot dripping from Eddie’s left nostril that he drags his crusty sweatshirt sleeve across before snorting up another drip of snot coming from the right side this time. 

“You are…” Steve sighs, exasperated, “so gross.”

The furrowed brows and grumpy pout paired with Eddie’s pink nose and puffy eyes could almost be considered cute if Steve hadn’t just witnessed him swallow a loogie.

“How the hell did I fall in love with you?”

Steve knows exactly how it happened. He could write a library’s worth of books about all the things he loves about Eddie Munson. That doesn’t change the fact that Eddie absolutely refuses to admit that he’s sick and is being very gross about proving his health.

“Because I’m so totally handsome and I can do cool guitar stuff.” His voice is scratchy and nasally and Steve can tell he’s trying very hard not to sniffle or cough. “And I’m super rich on account of the cool guitar stuff.” Eddie bats his thick black eyelashes and flashes a big bright toothy smile in Steve’s direction. It’s usually quite charming but the new bead of snot dripping towards Eddie’s upper lip causes his charisma to take a hit. “Gimme a smooch.”

Eddie sniffles harshly, sucking the snot glob back into his nose. He leans in, lips puckered up and chapped from extended forced mouth breathing, eyes squeezed shut. Steve reaches out a hand to stop Eddie from falling when he continues to lean forward. 

“You’re cute,” Steve admits, pushing Eddie back to balance on his own feet, “You’re also sick.”

“‘m not,” Eddie pouts again, opening his eyes and glaring at Steve.

Yes he is. Eddie is very sick. His nose is running a marathon and Steve could hear the congestion from a mile away. He’s running a 102 degree fahrenheit fever and shivering like a chihuahua on a sugar high. His eyes are red and puffy and his eye bags have eye bags. He’s sneezing and coughing and if the way he frequently grimaces and groans is any indication he’s nauseous too. 

It’s wild to Steve, how easily Eddie tends to ignore his own health and well-being. He’s going to work himself to an early grave and take Steve with him. It’s frankly astonishing how long Eddie’s made it and Steve is half convinced that Death is simply scared of Eddie. It wouldn’t be surprising. Eddie is absolutely horrifying when he wants to be. And also sometimes when he doesn’t mean to be. 

“Just lay down in bed, Eds. You’ll get better sooner if you rest.”

“Don’t need rest, ‘m not sick.” Eddie makes a noise like he might throw up if either of them make a wrong move. He clears his throat when the feeling seemingly passes. “Gotta finish planning out the next session for when the Party comes to visit next week and then work on some acous- acousti- ACHOO!” Eddie sneezes and a snot rocket launches toward Steve in a majestic arch of green and yellow nasal mucus. Steve, luckily, manages to move out of the way and not be hit by the bio weapon. 

“Did you just say “achoo” as you sneezed?” 

“I didn’t sneeze,” Eddie says, like a lying liar who lies.

Steve looks from Eddie to the small puddle of snot on the floor. “What’s that then?”

Eddie scoffs a couple of times, searching for a reasonable answer. His brain isn’t working at full capacity, which is reasonable considering he’s very sick, despite his resolute denial. “Science project.” 

Eddie lives and breathes gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, Steve will give him that, but Steve has mastered manipulate, mansplain, malewife. Especially that malewife bit. If the government ever comes around to letting Eddie put a ring on it Steve would make a wonderful trophy wife. 

“Yeah? What’s the hypothesis?” That’s right, Steve knows science words. He may be a certified Ken but he’s not stupid. Eddie, of course, is a Barbie, but that was never really a question.

“It’s about projectile paths and stuff.”

Steve cannot believe how endearing Eddie is even when he’s being this gross.

---

[babygirlbites]

Wolves and their star signs

Hello my little cherubs - how are we doing ? I hope we are doing well

Are we pretending I haven’t been gone for years? Absolutely!

Anyway, let’s talk star signs real quick. None of this is based on canon birthdays, I’m simply beyond Stephanie and her knowledge of her own characters.

These are MY opinions, which are fact as I am factually never wrong. However you are welcome to discuss

Jacob is a Leo; bold, stubborn, natural born leader. this man has main characteritis for sure. I’ve never met a Leo man who didn’t think he was always correct and was so headstrong about it, even when being actively proven wrong. I feel like Jake could wake up one morning and decide the sky is red and anyone who disagreed or god forbid brought factual evidence to him that disproved this would be ignored AND judged. However, Leo’s are loyal (to a fault, often) so although he’s headstrong he’s a ride or die for sure. If he likes you he is going to defend you against anything (excluding himself though because remember, he’s always right) and if he LOVES YOU pfft, I wouldn’t be messing with a Leo’s lover that’s for sure.

Sam is a Pisces; emotional, calm, strong willed. ugh, where do i start. Pisces are so emotional, which may seem like a good thing but I promise you those Pisces men can and will use this to manipulate, gaslight and gatekeep. He’s artistic though, and generally a reliable gent, but sometimes he can be a real nasty little man. He’s sly about his anger, he isn’t a shouting/agressive man at all, he would never DREAM of hurting you (the Emily situation will not repeat) but he can make you feel like shit emotionally. Pisces are just too clever idk I don’t mean to slander you all but as an aqua woman yous are real difficult

Embry is an Aquarius; Creative, smart, thinks outside the box, independent . He’s sensitive, but only when he’s close enough to you to allow you too see that. Aqua knows aqua, I know this boy would be super hard to get into the inner circle of. Sure, he’s openly friendly to everyone, but only the small few that HE allows close will see the real him. Once you do though, he’s an open book, belly laughing at your shitty dad jokes and ugly crying at pet rehoming tiktoks on his fyp.

Paul is a Gemini; loud, fun, and maybe a bit toxic. now I did debate aries for Paul but I just think he’s an air sign through and through. Sure, he’s firey as hell, but he’s so charming and no Aries has that level of rizz (sorry guys but the truth hurts sometimes). He’s a player through and through, he’s got a contacts list full of girls under code names like “girl from Seattle” or “drives a Honda” - which the feminist in me has an issue with but I can’t lie I love a Gemini. They are feral, and as long as you can prepare for that, then they will be the most fun you ever have. Just don’t get attached, or do, I can’t tell you what to do!

Jared is a libra; fun, lighthearted and emotionally wrecked. I love libras but damn do you guys wear your hearts on your sleeves! You’re so easily hurt, and you’ve BEEN hurt, and guess what? You’ll get hurt again. I feel like Jared’s the kind of guy to get played by the same girl/guy multiple times but still tell everyone they are his “twin flame”. Please treat this boy right - I don’t know if he can take the heartbreak (he can, and it will NOT put him off)

Quil is a cancer; he’s soft, he’s loving and he’s emotionally enlightened! We love a cancer in this house, emotional like a Pisces but open like a libra, a cancer is the right mix of mature and fun. They are sweet and sensitive and if any star sign is going to be an empath, it’s cancer. I feel like quil is the guy you go too when you’ve just found out something awful - all the guys would be there for you but where Paul or Jake or Sam even would blow a gasket and leave you alone while then went out on a rampage to hurt whomever was unlucky enough to hurt the one they love, Quil would take you in, cook for you and listen to whatever you had to say. Of course, he’s angry someone has upset you, but he’s more bothered that you are okay then that they aren’t. He’s a good guy, that’s all.

Leah is a Taurus; strong willed, well routed and stubborn. She’s practical, she’s gonna tell you straight up what she thinks with no filter, and sometimes that can hurt. She’s not the biggest personality in the room or the loudest voice at the party but she’s straight to the point and not afraid to be heard when she sees fit. She’s fun too, when she wants to be and with whom she wants to be. Under all of this though she’s family centred; she will kill for her family (and found family).

Seth is a Virgo; bold, grounded but enchanting. Virgos have a way of capturing a whole room without even having to try, they aren’t brash or loud but they are just so vibrant man idk! There’s something about them. Anyway I think Seth is just a lovely sunshine character, he’s deffo got cancer in his big three too, maybe his moon, but the Virgo energy is there for me. He’s the fun earth sign and he’s not gonna let you forget it

[clegfly]

Woo, it’s about time I made one of these… *cracks knuckles*

MORE ABOUT ME!!!!

HIIII!!!! My name is clegfly, or just cleg!!!! I’m an artist/ writer / professional paint drying critic/j. I’m just a silly girl doing silly things, don’t mind me. I use she/her pronouns and I am aroace!!!

LIKES

BULLET POINTS BULLET POINTS BULLET POI

Pancakes. All day. All the time. Everywhere, anywhere. Pancakes

That goes for bacon too

JELLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!1!1!1!

Why are these all foods what else do I like uhhhh

Warm. And cosy bed. And fire. And all that stuff

OLD COMPUTER AESTHETIC!!!!!! N64!!! WINDOWS XP!!!! ALL THAT SHIT

Bugs in theory

PLANTS

MUSICAL THEATRE

Graphic novels

Video games… ough my beloveds

Books

Okay now this is too long

Oops

Sorry

JELLYFISH JELLYFISH JELLYFISH

The ocean full stop actually

In theory

CHINCHILLAS

Uh

Yapping

Analysis

DISLIKES

anything on my DNI >:((((

Bugs in practice

Sport

Exercise

I’m literally hero omori

Commitment

Stress

Internet drama

Anyone who gatekeeps like. Anything.

INTERESTS???

All day every day, baby.

MAINS

OMORI- main interest as apparent by one peek at my blog… The brainrot is immeasurable and everlasting. Send help. It’s been almost four years. I love this game, its characters, story, EVERYTHING so fucking much. I’m like a billion pounds in debt to it also. I will be homeless but at least I will have my big ass heromari collection.

PMMM/ Madoka Magica- my favourite show! Consisting purely of sparkles and sunshine!!!! Why are you crying??? I’m sure not!!!!

DDLC/ Doki Doki Literature Club- another favourite of mine!!! I see a well-written cast of characters I deeply relate to go through extreme horrific horror beyond any of their comprehensions and I’m SOLD!!!

Coraline- the horrors are all consuming, but at least it’s both a visual and extremely well-written treat!!!!

TADC/ the amazing digital circus- won’t lie, watched this show when the pilot dropped and LOVED it, but forgot about it after a while as it didn’t stick with me. Then episode three came out and I’m now reduced to a blubbering mess whose brain is now significantly comprised of two fictional chess pieces. What happened? I don’t know. Send even more help.

LITTLE GUYS THAT HURT MY BRAIN SOMETIMES

Petscop

Fnaf

BATIM/ bendy and the ink machine

BSD

Deltarune

Undertale

Hawaii: Part II

SUBJECT TO CHANGE BECAUSE IM PROBABLY FORGETTING LIKE 20 AND ALSO HAVE LIKE 20 STILL TO DISCOVER

HOBBIES?!2!2!

Ya!!!! :D

Art

The main thing I do on my silly little page!!

…in which the art is mostly unfinished doodles… but that’s okay!!!! We ball anyway

YOU CAN SEND THE CLEG REQUESTS!!!!! ALL DAY ANY DAY UNLESS I SAY OTHERWISE!!!! Do not expect premium quality though lmao. (And also nothing related to DNI. Shouldn’t have to say this but. Uh. Yeah)

You cannot yet commission the cleg :(

Writing

Currently on a writing hiatus and have been for a little while (5 MONRHS WHAT) but… i do!!!! That!!!! Aka I write fan fiction AGH

Mostly. Heromari stuff. Actually all heromari stuff. I think I have one fic that isn’t heromari and it’s one I co-authored I love them your honour…

Yeah

DNI

Bit of a bummer, but I gotta set my boundaries to keep the weirdos out!! That being said, do NOT interact with my blog whatsoever if you:

Are a shotacon, lolicon, proshipper, pedo, etc etc etc. (yucky. Yuck yuck yuck. Fuck off)

Are homophobic

Are transphobic

Are aphobic/ arophobic (why. Why are you even still here)

Queerphobic in general actually get OUT!!!!

Actively shit on any of my main interests. Like ACTIVELY go out of your way to tell me how bad it is (what. What is the point. Just go)

POST ANY NSFW FULL STOP!!!!!!! (I am EXTREMELY sex repulsed and have been especially lately, I will block you on SIGHT)

Are racists/ xenophobes

There is likely LOTS more I’m forgetting so I will update this later… also just saying I reserve the right to block ANYONE no matter if you fit into this criteria or not. If I don’t vibe with you I will politely block you and look the other way!!! No theatrics required

Anyway with all the negative stuff out of the way… I really hope you enjoy my blog!!! I’m just here to have fun honestly and express my ideas and passions and work on a little page of the internet so!!!! Hope you have fun too!!!! :D

[ure-a-sunflower]

Truth, Dare, and Jealousy

Written by ure-a-sunflower

Eddie Munson x reader!all genders (Stranger Things fanfiction)

This is my first time publishing any of my work since I really wanted to gatekeep this stuff to myself. I’ll be honest, I wrote a lot of Eddie fan fics so I’ll see how this one turns out. Please be nice, I beg of you. I just did this for fun back in August of 2022.

CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, some swearing, NO SPOILERS

Word Count: 3k

Eddie knew well that you hardly expressed crushes on real life boys aside from your beloved fictional characters. He was fine with that, honestly, because competition with some actually-not-real man that was good as paper and had as much depth as a kids blow up pool was nothing too personal for him. It was probably the dark brooding charm female authors would win you over with or the romantic promises these guys had that were downright unrealistic.

Regardless of that, you and Eddie connect really well and while he didn’t want to admit it, he was starting to develop feelings for you.

(Rest of the fic is below the cut)

This was kinda bad. You had only joined Hellfire a year ago and you got to Eddie real good. The other boys didn’t see it as much, but the way you both would squeal and jump for joy when you would come up with campaign ideas and talk about the most recent news of D&D… he never thought anyone else was like him. That was probably the first time he actually noticed you way past being a member of his club. Sure, you weren’t the biggest metalhead like the others, but when he saw you singing along to Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden in his van, he thought he was hallucinating.

But he was the group’s dungeon master and you weren’t held on the same freak level as him. You still hung out with your other best friends and your choice of aesthetic only dabbled in a bit of punk when given the chance. He thought you looked gorgeous when you would mix both. And considering how good you both got on already, Eddie was afraid he’d ruin what was between you. He couldn’t bear making it awkward.

At the end of a long week before a big school break, Eddie invited you to his trailer to hang out. The other Hellfire members had plans, which left the both of you alone.

“Truth or dare?” Eddie asked, while offering you another shot of the brandy. You downed it after swiping it from his hands and wiped your lips with your shirt. “Um, truth. Got nothing to hide.”

“Uhhh, alright.” Eddie leaned back to think. What useful information can he get out of you? He practically knew everything about you since you act like an open book around him. “Okay, I got one.”

“Shoot, Munson.” You didn’t like the clever smirk on his face.

“Who do you think is the most attractive member in Hellfire?”

Damn, you didn’t expect him to enter that territory. Eddie only took up your offer for a drinking game because you were getting sick of him being short of a human smoke machine. You weren’t planning to confess your stupid little crush on him that you’ve had for months now. What would he think of you?

“Wow, uh, you really wanna know?” you laughed it off awkwardly. Eddie noticed your uncomfortableness and chuckled. “I mean, you can answer my question or pick a worse dare, honey.”

God, his stupid nicknames. He wasn’t tipsy like you at the moment because unlike you, Eddie wasn’t a lightweight. “Let me hear the punishment then. I’ll consider my options.”

“That’s so against the rules but since you’re my favorite, I’ll tell you… I dare you to run around the trailer park, naked, and singing.”

“Eddie!” you yelled. “Are you trying to have fun or have me admitted to the nearest psychiatric ward?!” Soon, he was rollling on the floor, laughing. You couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine what you’d look like. Sure, you’d do anything for Eddie Munson, but that? You’d have to pass.

“So, ‘most attractive member’ then? Come on, sweets, we don’t have all night.”

“But won’t that sound like I’m attracted to them?”

“I mean, maybe. Be as objective as you want.”

You gulped. You really didn’t want Eddie to assume you had a crush on him but you also didn’t want him to think you had one on another Hellfire member. The least thing you’d want him to do is tease you with someone else. On top of things, inflating his already big sarcastic ego would end you.

“Um… huh, that’s tough…” You put your chin in your finger and thought hard. None of the freshmen were on the table. Jeff is sweet but he wasn’t your type— he was more like a brother to you, anyways. Last person left…

Everyone in Hellfire wasn’t afraid to admit that Gareth was handsome. Sure, he still had the baby cheeks and freckles from middle school, but you think his hair is really cute and fluffy even way back then. You always went out of your way to point that out and he’d blush super hard. He also gives you the best hugs, rivalring Eddie’s. Gareth is sweet and nice to you in and out of school, opposite of Grant and Eddie who are total pranksters. You have a soft spot for the guy. If only you weren’t so close with Eddie, you’d probably be fully head over heels with Gareth already.

You took a deep breath and shook your head in between a chuckle. “I guess I’m gonna go with Gareth.”

Eddie’s heart kinda stopped. Gareth? Gareth Emerson? He was already planning in his head how he would react when you’d say it was him. Ready to thank you and graciously shower you with praises while you roll your eyes and tell him not to take it too personally. That’s kind of why he asked the question, if he was being honest. He wanted to hear it from you.

You always loved teasing and calling Eddie your “pretty boy”, playing with his hair and braiding it whenever you both hung out. Once, you complimented his doe eyes while you were both out and about, and Eddie never forgot that moment since. It was the first time anyone has really noticed his features like that. The first time you met him, you even said his style was cool because he looked like a certified rockstar. But you thought Gareth was the most attractive when you were both alone right now? Seriously?

Eddie figured he’ll need to down a whole bottle and smoke himself to death once you go home. Then he just got more worried.

Why did he react that way?

“Eds, you good?” You waved a hand in front of his face as Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. You waited for his response after he kind of just blanked out.

He regretted asking you for the truth now. Should’ve just gone with like ‘what’s your go-to ice cream flavor’ or ‘who’s your favorite dungeon master and rockstar whose name starts with an E and rhymes with teddy’. Now, he just felt like some pathetic loser pouting because he didn’t like your answer. God, he felt like a stupid middle schooler all over again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” He looked like he snapped out of his trance but his eyes look everywhere but yours. His hands seize the bottle and he downs some. “So, uh, Gareth huh?”

Completely oblivious, you giggle and shove his shoulder. “Don’t tell him I told you that. Besides, I only see him as a close friend.” You better, Eddie thought. You noticed the tension in Eddie’s jaw and put a hand on his thigh to calm him down. It only had the opposite effect. “Hey. Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”

“It’s nothing. Why did you choose Gareth?”

The way he so quickly changed the subject didn’t slip past you. But you figured it wasn’t worth pressing on more. “I mean,” you scratch your neck, “he’s really sweet and it’s no secret that he’s got good genes.”

Eddie’s eyebrows only furrowed. The grin of disbelief on his face looked less amused and more annoyed.

“Really? I mean, am I not sweet? It’s gotta be the hair, isn’t it?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Eddie… are you… jealous?”

You thought he was gonna have a whiplash with the way he snapped his head towards you. “What did you just say?” Despite the utter confusion in his face, you knew he heard you. You smirked and continued.

“Are you jealous of me saying Gareth’s attractive?” His poor best friend Gareth, having no idea that Eddie’s currently dunking his head in a barrel of water in his mind. How dare he look attractive to the person he’s had the biggest crush ever on. Now, they’re onto him.

Playing dumb was his only option. “No, I’m not. Why would I be jealous? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m teasing you about this!” Air quotes and all, you saw through his façade. The defenses were raised and you could tell Eddie was lying. His ears were a brighter pink than before and though you were tipsy, you still had a strong intuition that you just made your best friend envious. The alcohol in your system seemed to not only fuel your courage but also your audacity. You leaned in to mess with him further. “I just figured, y’know, since you reacted when I said that.”

“I did not react.” Such a child. You wiggled your eyebrows.

“Sure…” An idea popped in your head. “Then, you wouldn’t mind if I asked Gareth out after break?”

Eddie thought he was going to faint. Or combust. Whichever was faster.

“Are— Are you fucking serious?!” Eddie jumped in his seat, accidentally banging his knees on the table and staring at you like you’ve grown another head. You were laughing at this point, clutching your stomach and throwing your head back. If only Eddie didn’t hear your previous words, he would’ve thought you looked like a pure angel. But he was genuinely shocked.

“Munson, what has gotten into you?! I’m only joking!” Eddie’s been having heart attack after heart attack with each sentence you uttered. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or pissed off at you. “You really don’t like me going out with him, don’t you? Well, I know how much Gareth means to Jeff. Can’t get in the way of the most legendary bromance in Hawkins.”

Eddie slapped a hand over his face and groaned. He opened his mouth to say something when you beat him to it. “Or does it feel incestuous to date someone from Hellfire? I see why you’re so protective of them. I kinda see the boys as like my brothers—“

“Just shut up!” Playing cards, napkins, plastic forks— they scattered from the table to the floor as Eddie frantically attempts to quiet you. You stopped and stared at him. Usually, you would shrink away and tear up when someone raised their voice like that at you, but you knew Eddie would never mean you any harm. But then again, this was a first. And he sounded so serious.

After no one still said a word, you coughed and decided to change the topic. “… A-Alright, um, that’s enough truth or dare for one night.”

When you were about to leave and walk yourself home, because you were too tipsy as hell to even bike, Eddie insisted you stay. You gave up arguing with him when nothing could convince him to leave you there in the streets all by yourself. He couldn’t drive you either because he was slightly high, never wanting to lose his van because of a DUI arrest, and casually admitted that he won’t be able to sleep knowing you weren’t safe.

You were quite basically trapped in his arms as he cuddled you on his couch.

It was a compromising position, really. You never figured Eddie to be the cuddlebear, but the way he clung onto you was like you were going to disappear from his hands. To make yourself comfortable, you cuddled into him, placing your head on his chest, and Eddie’s heart melted at your gesture.

Your head in his chest, his legs over yours— he was going to be so pissed at himself in the morning.

He knew what he was doing but also not. So did you. This was how lovers would hold each other. It just felt right to be in the other’s arms and not care about the world, a crazy and cruel world. Yes, you were both good friends, but this was just you guys testing the waters of your friendship. No romantic shit. It was just two tipsy best friends cuddling closely on the couch, a thriller movie in the background as soft rain pattered outside. Super platonic. Yep.

You were drifting off to sleep time and time again because of how good of a white noise the TV and rain were, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice. However, he had something bothering him that he had to bring up to you before you start dozing off and become knocked off cold. He couldn’t wait until the morning to tell you since he knew well he’d chicken out again. Perhaps he invited you to drink some alcohol so he could finally confess using liquid courage, and in the case if you’d reject him, he’d just blame it on being drunk. Perfect foolproof plan.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered your name by the shell of your ear. You stirred from your sleepiness and turned up to him. “Hey, um… I’m sorry if I, uh, made an outburst earlier.”

It wasn’t easy to decipher what this was all about, especially when you were half-asleep and in the midst of sobering at this point. “For what? About Gareth? Don’t worry, I know we were being stupid.” You still didn’t understand why he made such a fuss, but you were just trying to move on from the situation. Nevermind figuring out his reasons. Your heart was pounding miles a minute. You were holding your crush like you were partners, and you wanted to be out of there and in between his arms more than ever at the same time. It was worth cherishing this position before you two part in the morning and just pretend nothing happened.

Eddie hated that you said his name again. “Yeah… I just…you know… I guess I was jealous.”

You took a pause to digest what he said. “You were? Oh, Eddie, I know I said Gareth but you’re still the pretty boy! I mean, you know I love your hair and your eyes—“

“No, it’s not that I’m jealous of Gareth’s looks.” Eddie took a deep breath. Yours hitched, waiting for his next words. He tried to look into your eyes but you could see them shaking and he kept averting your gaze. “I… well… shit. H-How am I gonna say this….?”

“… Yeah?”

“I-I got… I got jealous… that you like him.”

At this point you were grasping at sticks. What did that even mean? Was he jealous of the attention? Of your feelings? That another guy was held in a position higher than Eddie Munson, Hellfire’s Beloved Leader? It was starting to get annoying.

“Eddie, we’re so close and we’ve been great friends since I’ve known you. Fucking hell, you’re our Dungeon Master. I know you and Gareth are like brothers and I get it if you don’t want anyone dating in the club. You’ve got nothing to worry about just because I think he’s got looks—“

“No,” he shook his head, finally demanding your attention, “like, I like like you. I have feelings for you and I want to be with you. As your… boyfriend.”

You were certainly stunned.

Maybe you just waited and pushed for him to say it, but you still couldn’t believe it. Did Eddie just confess he liked you? First? You wanted to soar and you felt like you could touch stars. Holy shit. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Was it the alcohol that made you like this?

“…And I know I sound stupid or selfish but I guess I have to make my moves now since you want to ask Gareth out.”

Your mouth was still gaped wide open as Eddie continued rambling about how much he liked you. “—like we were alone in the drama room one night while cleaning and we danced to that stupid jazzy song you put on like my parents used to when I was a kid and I didn’t know it at that time but I think that’s when I realized I was falling really badly for you—“

You had scooted your way towards him the entire time he was going on and on, fully facing his direction, and took his hands that were wildly gesturing the entire time. “Eddie.”

“—because you’re just so nice and understanding and patient with me a-and— huh?” He was staring at you like a baby deer in headlights as you cupped his cheek. You could feel the warmth as his eyes widened. “I really like you too. I’ve fallen in love with you for months now.”

There was just silence. Silence on your end because you can’t believe you’ve finally said that, and Eddie was shortcircuiting with the words you’ve said to him. He had to repeat them in his head to make sure they really meant what he was thinking they meant. “You… You really—? But Gareth—“

“I only said Gareth because I didn’t know if I should confess I like you. I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year.”

“You liked me for that long?! Wha— Wait, I, oh gosh so you actually like me?”

“Eddie, I want to be yours. I love you. I really do.”

That was the happiest he’s been in forever. If he had to put it in words, it felt like someone lit a firework and his heart was fizzing around the room.

Pulling you to him, he mumbled a “may I kiss you?” and you nodded eagerly. Eddie placed a hand below your chin and locked his lips with yours passionately, absolutely savoring this moment because he’s been waiting for it for sleepless nights and hopeless daydreams. It was finally happening.

He whispered in between kisses, “I love you so so much” which made you giggle. “I can’t believe I have the best, kindest, and hottest partner in all of the world.” When you rolled your eyes, Eddie shook his head disapprovingly and kissed you once again until you were literally gasping for air and telling him “okay! Okay! I believe you! Gosh, I love you so much, Eddie!”

At the next campaign, it was no doubt a surprise to Hellfire when Eddie suddenly announced you were his partner the moment you walked in the door.

[oknowkiss]

So what happens when the show airs and more writers join the fandom? Are we going to gatekeep? Exclude them from fests? Because they found hp after we did? Should I tell my kids they’re not allowed to read or watch hp? What kind of parent would that make me when hp was such a joyous part of my life and I’m still in the fandom? How can I tell other people that the fanwork they make, based on new canon, is not right but mine is? Jkr is hellish, but this is not how we make the fandom more inclusive

what happens when the show airs and more writers join the fandom? are we going to gatekeep?

to be honest, i truly have not thought that far ahead. to be even more honest? depending on how this show goes/what choices it makes, i may not be in this fandom when we get to that point. i am queer and i am already so tired and there are so many other things to do.

however. i do not agree that it is not inclusive for me to make a statement saying that i, personally, have zero interest in engaging with people who value an entirely unnecessary tv show over creating a safe fandom space for the very people who are being persecuted by JKR. making sure the non-white, non-cis, non-straight folks in our community feel safe here is exactly what inclusivity is.

i know that there are many, many people who exist outside of discourse and have no idea what she is about. those are not the people i was talking about in my original post, although when those people join fandom i do think they have a personal responsibility to understand why some members of our community may feel more exposed or targeted than others. the people i am talking about are the ones who (as i said) fully know what she is about, know that she is going to benefit from this show, know how she uses her money and power to actively harm people, and do not care, because they'd rather watch a fun show in 1-2 years. those people and i are never going to get along, there is literally no argument on earth that could get me to see their side, and that is all i was saying.

i, too, grew up with harry potter. and yes, these books brought me so much joy! i agree with you there! i don't have kids, but my friends do, and if they want to share HP with their kids that is their choice. this is, again, where personal responsibility comes in, just as i presume it would for any other form of media parents would share with their kids that has not aged well. because even if JKR was normal, the books do have obvious sour spots (see: the antisemitism, or the whole SPEW plotline, both of which may or may not be included in this show, which is supposed to be a faithful adaptation).

in sum: while it's true that there's no ethical consumption under capitalism, that isn't a blanket excuse to do whatever just because you want to. i can tell from your comment that that's not what you're saying, but i have seen people already who do feel this way. and those people are not people i want to be in community with.

[my-mt-heart]

Is the reason why you want a female showrunner so bad because most romance writers are women? I want canon Caryl but I don’t want TWD to be Bridgerton or Gilmore Girls with zombies.

Just because I want a romantic journey for Caryl doesn't mean I want someone to turn their show into Bridgerton or Gilmore Girls and it also doesn't mean a female showrunner would. If we should worry about anyone taking romance in the wrong direction, it’s Zabel and co. who are now comparing Daryl to a “lonely knight” from a Lamartine poem🤨 The reason I need an experienced female showrunner is because she's far more likely to connect with a deeply internal female character like Carol and an unconventional, also deeply internal, male character like Daryl. She can highlight their nuances and appeal to a largely female audience + many male viewers who don't fit the hypermasculine stereotype. She can help that audience grow and get the show a lot of mainstream attention.

I’m not saying men can’t write for these characters, but the toxic white men TWDU only seems to hire now are far too self-indulgent. They don't write for the characters or for their fans. Look at how Daryl often comes across in S1– as a white American savior, eligible bachelor, emotionally constipated except when he’s angry, and someone who can make eyes at a woman he barely knows despite having someone at home. That's not the Daryl so many people fell in love with during the Sophia arc in the flagship show. That's not the loyal family man who wears his heart on his sleeve and reserves any "glances' for the woman he’s always loved. They write their male protagonist from a limited perspective and same goes for the women. They turn them into tropes like the femme fatale (Maggie), the “good girl vs the whore” (Isabelle), the “manipulator” (also Isabelle), and the “strong woman” aka a woman who acts like an alpha male. Carol was a badass in 106, but there was no emotion behind her actions. Why couldn’t we get a closeup of her face while she was mounting the bike? Why couldn’t we see how worried she was about losing Daryl, the man who means everything to her? Was it cut? Was it even shot? Why didn’t the male EPs think that might be important?

Look at the ways they gatekeep. If “The Book of Carol” is supposed to shine a spotlight on our deeply internal female protagonist, then why are Zabel and Richman writing half the scripts themselves and why are their no female directors? Representation offscreen is just as important as representation onscreen.

Melissa will have had a lot to say about Carol's arc, which I think will make a big difference in S2 thankfully, but she still needs another woman in power to help her tell Carol's and Caryl's story the way she and her fans want it to be told and to promote Carol fairly. Notice how she keeps getting left out of promos or pitted against other characters or reduced to a subtitle? That does not mean Melissa has no agency or that she's weak. It means the misogyny at AMC, and TWDU in particular, runs too deep for her to be immune. She needs allies.

I need an experienced female showrunner for S3, otherwise I'm not interested. Zabel, Nicotero, and Gimple are a ticking timebomb. S1 was pretty damaging. I'm hoping S2 won't be, but at some point there's going to be no coming back from one of their careless decisions and I can't watch that happen to the two iconic characters who have functioned as fictional role models in both my personal and professional life. I need to know that AMC values Melissa, Carol, and Caryl as much as I do as a fan. Letting the men run amuck, letting them shit on Melissa/Carol/Caryl and their fans constantly, is not very convincing.

[many-but-one]

Hello there! We had a question for you. Is there a middle ground between RAMCOA and more standard forms of abuse? Not to give too much detail, but in reading at endritualabuse.org, I've learned that my experiences heavily line up with trauma/torture based mind control and simple to moderately complex programming, but there was no RA/OA. It was done sloppy, loose ends stuffed in wherever, you know? Not by someone who knows how to program, just someone who knows how to be cruel, and how to mentally force someone to do what they want.

What I'm asking for is, is there like, a place for me to learn about... Me? A botched polyfrag system loosely resembling a moderately complex programmed one? Or do I just have to dip a toe into each world? I'm trying to figure out what I need to learn to address this complexity appropriately with my therapist, who is great with DID but doesn't know a lot about programming.

Thanks in advance for any advice you can give in leading my further research.

Hello system-splintered!! I hope my answer will be helpful to you, but know that I’m not professional. However! We did JUST finally get to a point in which we were able to successfully tell our therapist we have programs without a program running and offing us, so that’s pretty great🤩 We have had way too many close calls with that, and our higher ups were able to dismantle things just enough to be able to get it out without us being harmed in the process. Our specialist has been in the field with DID systems for a very long time, and she’s worked with a patient in the past with RA, but she has never worked with a system who has programs/MC like us.

So, I don’t know what kind of programs you have and I don’t suggest delving deep into finding them out, because that can cause a lot of issues and disruption in the flow of things. While some disruption can be good, other types of disruption can become fatal for the system, if they have programs for suicide or self harm (commonly called omega programs.)

However, we had to REALLY talk around it, (couldn’t even SAY words like “programming” or “conditioning” or anything along those lines without a silence or scramble program running, it was wild) and our highest level gatekeeper, Aridam, has been laying breadcrumbs in hopes she was collecting them for the last year or so, trying to hint at what is going on without being so overt to trigger the programs. It wasn’t until he met other programmed systems and got resources to learn more about his own situation (because let’s face it, gatekeepers can know everything about their system and how it functions, but that doesn’t mean they know jack shit about it in a clinical sense.) Our abusers didn’t sit down and say “okay, we are going to program you to be a sex slave now, here is step one…” no, it was layers upon layers of manipulation and torture, and they never really used words like program (except to teach the silence parts what words they had to make sure we couldn’t say) or even named the programs (alpha, beta, etc) or anything like that with us. We HAVE those, but we didn’t know that’s what they WERE.

Now, looking online for this information can be really dangerous because there is a lot of information that is 1) deeply antisemitic 2) geared toward practitioners and not toward victims 3) outright calling victims and their therapists crazy for believing programming can even exist.

All of the above can be very harmful for a system just learning and figuring out that they are programmed. A couple of books that we found are sensitive to people who have been through the abuse itself but also don’t mince words are “Becoming Yourself” by Alison Miller (we haven’t finished this one, but we have started it and like it a lot), and “Safe Passage to Healing” by Chrystine Oksana. I would still tread carefully if you are still newer to these things, but you know yourself best, so you can take my warnings with a grain of salt if you wish.

The best thing about “Becoming Yourself” by Alison Miller is that there is a companion book that was written for practitioners trying to work with their patients on deprogramming, called “Healing the Unimaginable” (by Alison Miller) This book is NOT recommended for patients or victims of this abuse, BUT, you can suggest this book to your therapist to help them learn how to treat you. From what we’ve read in Becoming Yourself, Alison Miller is talking about some very complex and high level abuse and torture, stuff even we haven’t been through. HOWEVER, these things can still be applied to some of the “lower” levels of manipulation and abuse, and overall it is a good learning tool to understand how to heal from this awful abuse.

These books are quite expensive, though. We got a copy in pdf form from a system who shared a google drive link with us, and if that system sees this reply they are more than welcome to reblog and share their link if they want to, or DM the asker if system-splintered is okay with it. I don’t want to go sharing links willy nilly if that is not something they are okay with.

I also want to add at the very end here, that just because your system isn’t “high level MK-ULTRA” type of programming (ours isn’t either) that doesn’t mean that your situation is not valid or not relevant and it didn’t massively affect you. Not all programmers are good at what they do. It typically takes massive amounts of organization and power and education to pull this shit off in extreme levels. Our abusers were like that, but we suspect we were a bit of an “earlier attempt” and were mainly used to perfect their methods for later victims. Our earlier life abuse was indicative of them testing the waters, so to speak, but we believe they may have gotten better sources and better connections later on and in later years of our abuse were able to do the really intense and very “well done” types of programming, which is why some of our progs that came later are so “airtight” so to speak. (By comparison to some of our earlier progs) We don’t speak much on what is here for our safety, but we are eventually wanting to be more open about our deprogramming journey, to help others who are in a similar position.

I hope this helped! Take care, and if you or anyone else has further questions, our ask box is open as is our DMs!

-Dorian🌹

[slaymitchabernathy]

I’m sick as fuck so pretty pls humour me… I have some questions abt coryo and soarynn my fav power couple.

in your humble opinion:

How tall are they both, is there a big height difference?

star signs? If ur an astrology girlie. Is soarynn an astrology girlie?

what version of coryo you have written would you most & least want to be with/ who is the scariest coryo

What Drabble/ series has ur favourite version of soarynn (I know this is a hard one haha)

what’s ur favourite Drabble you’ve written

whats ur opinion on the phrase gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss? And which of the three do you feel you most encapsulate. Is soarynn too sweet to gaslight? Hold on.

gaslight - coriolanus

girlboss- soarynn

gatekeep- petunia

also, in my mind in whatever universe there is a soarynn, there is also a petunia. I like to think with district soarynn there’s a ratty stray cat version of her that soarynn loves to bits.

in case you couldn’t tell I might be the tiniest littlest teensiest bit drugged up on sickness meds and perhaps might be a little bit delirious. You totally can’t tell tho.

oh my goodness i absolutely love this.

coryo is 6’2 (going off of tom blyths height) & soarynn is 5’6, so abt average for a girl.

for their star signs, soarynn is a gemini (i am as well) & coryo is scorpio based off of his birthday in my universe which is prefect bc scorpio men are the worst. i could totally see soarynn getting super into zodiac signs & coryo just nodding along to whatever she says.

out of all my drabbles & my book, i do feel like ‘Stay with me, always’ coryo is always gonna be the darkest & just the worst overall. he put our girl through so much so there’s no way in hell i would ever wanna be with that man. i really did love ‘escapism’ coryo & so many of yall did too, broke my heart a little. coryo in ‘Pretty’ is also a top contender for most being the most evil ever, or ‘Anything at All’ coryo. i never knew i had a knack for writing “dark coryo” until i came on tumblr.

i love my sweet soarynn in every single drabble, she’s so sweet & lovely. i actually really loved getting to write her pov in ‘Pretty’ with those companion drabbles i did, she’s so complex & it was such a dark series. i also just love her with the children, she’s such a good mom.

i actually counted a while ago & i have written like over 100 drabbles which is insane if you really think abt it so to pick my favorite is so hard but i find myself going back to ‘Cold & Calculated’ quite often. it’s always so interesting to see which drabbles just take off bc i never plan for them to. it’s also so interesting to see my earlier works compared to how i write on tumblr now. learning the algorithm has been such a journey.

i am so, so certain that the entire “gaslight, girlboss, gatekeep” came from my favorite drag queen katya & i love it. i think soarynn could totally be gaslighted but never be the gaslighter. coryo is such a gaslighter, that toxic ass man. petunia totally tried to gatekeep soarynn from coryo, giving that man a run for his money. soarynn is a total girlboss, i do love writing drabbles where she just spends his money left & right.

i also just always imagine petunia being around somewhere. if i ever fail to mention petunia in a drabble, just know that she’s lurking somewhere, do not fear.

i had so much fun doing this!!! if yall ever have questions abt these characters don’t ever hesitate to ask me bc i love answering them.

also, just thinking abt this today for anyone who might be new or confused on how soarynn is pronounced.

it rhymes with “foreign”. just switch out the ‘f’ for an ‘s’ & you get “soreign”. i hope that makes sense.

feel better!!! <3

[night-market-if]

It is so valid for MC to be angry with Milo. But I’m interested to see how Milo responds to an MC who is just. So, so beside themselves hurt and heartbroken about the situation. Especially if they’re romancing him. There have been so SO many instances of MC asking for help, even if it’s just moral support…hell even TELLING Milo “this is scary, I am scared, I want to help but I can’t do it alone” (which like…. Hello, their entire relationship and dilemma as the _ and _ in one sentence) and Milo let them suffer, felt bad, tried to comfort them but kept hurting them by intentionally withholding info. It’s clear MC trusts (or trusted) him and he continuously betrayed that trust all the while being sweet and lovey-dovey and even intimate with them in some cases (and more than once!!) An MC who is reliant on others, is so vulnerable, is so understanding and compassionate towards him in the story and even though they’re NOT doing great themselves still tries so hard to help Milo. Oh. 😭And an MC who tried to tell them they LOVED him??? And he knew??? The first person MC loved like THAT??? OH my heart breaks when I think about it too much. I want to make Milo feel like absolute shit but not by berating or anything, just simply him seeing how his actions have consequences, and yes they’re literally affecting everyone, but mostly MC in the sense that they weren’t just betrayed by their (insert title here) but by someone who got close to them and made them fall in love with him. First the denial and then the desperate pitiful “why???” Devastating. The hopeless despair of someone you love and think is in your corner hurting you so SO intentionally. Knife to the heart.

I think Milo expects anger and venom from MC. I think that he’s steeled himself for that and a response he’s most used to when he fucks up (even beginning from his childhood) , but that clear utter devastation from MC- Not anger, just raw pain and upset. Just wanting to know why. Being such a mess they can barely speak. The desperation of “if you give me a good enough reason I can forgive you,I want to forgive you please tell me this suffering has meaning because it has to because I love you”. allowing him to see the damage he’s brought not just to the world in general but to this person he claims to care for and “want to save” will truly throw him.

Milo would love nothing more than to be greeted with anger. It makes it easier. He can be the villain and that is who he has resigned himself to be. And I think he very well could fall into that category at moments. No matter his intentions, he did choose not to tell the MC what was happening.

There is the opportunity to be hurt in the next chapter. To ask him to his face if any of this meant anything to him. I think what can be seen about Milo after this game, is he is a man that does stick to his beliefs and his convictions. But that does not always mean he likes what he has to do.

I am very much setting up a juxtaposition between our two known Gatekeepers and how they handle the market itself. This will give the MC a lot more opportunity to kind of decide which route to take in the future, knowing more than one bit of information. But as for the romance with Milo? It's going to be hard. I think there is trust broken. I think there are things at play that make this all incredibly difficult, and I do not believe Milo is a man who has the proper tools to navigate something so heavy with grace.

I think most people will either come out wanting to try further with Milo in book 2, or wanting nothing to do with him.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ 

Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi 🌿Discord

[vacantgodling]

🥸🧥 hello i am a humble stranger here for the secret wip knowledge... 📓

welcome to secret wip corner mysterious stranger 😎

so i literally have a whole doc of my rogue yeehan ideas when i’m not thinking about cage OR when i’m pretending that my custody battle au that i need to update doesn’t exist. so i will let loose one of my ideas from the aether: one of my i have a kink about cassidy’s voice fic idea.

hear me out like

cassidy’s voice is hot as shit and i’m a weak sad sad man and i feel like hanzo is the same and you can pry this from my cold dead hands.

i don’t have a name for it yet but it’s a “sales call center au” (ive worked at both a call center and have done my fair share of phone sales so more of this au hinges on my experience from phone sales lol) and basically cole gets hired by some company (overwatch ig) to sell services over the phone. his easy humor, smooth voice, and non pressuring vibes have led to numerous sales so someone (idk who yet) asks him to pursue the toughest nut to crack: hanzo’s company—shimada whatever. no one has been ever able to get past the gatekeeping front desk staff let alone talk to the ceo. so cole does some digging and manages to get the ceo’s (hanzo’s) personal number. he leaves a few messages which hanzo ignores, but cole isn’t one to leave this shit hanging. finally one day hanzo picks up and is all Will you Quit Calling. and cole is like okay one growl at me more daddy what—but he’s like sugar gimme a second of your time but hanzo hangs up on him.

now at the company i worked for (and any phone sales company) getting hung up on didn’t mean don’t pursue; in fact they said hey keep trying until you get a good convo and a formal no then push them out for a few months and come back (basically pester them to death you know businesses gotta business LMAO). the only exception is obviously dnc lists and whatnot. so cole keeps calling. and more and more he and hanzo start to actually talk. it’s pretty flirty from jump and their talks get longer and longer to the point that they don’t even talk about sales or any of that shit just about each other. cassidy “takes work home” a night or two on his personal cell (and they have phone sex cough). and then eventually hanzo’s like alright tell me about this product of yours so i don’t make your superiors think i’m wasting your time. cassidy does the full pitch, hanzo actually considers it because he’s built up so much rapport with cole and it WOULD be beneficial for the business… so he’s just like cole i will consider your proposal and partnering with your company on one condition… and cole’s just anything sugar name your price. SO hanzo’s like i do not do online payments. i will only provide you a check… in person. and i will only sign if you are physically in my office. CLEARLY he’s saying “cole i need you in my bed and i’m willing to make this fucking happen” and cole knows but obviously it’s a recorded line when he’s in the office so he’s like hon lemme put you on hold. goes to talk to his boss and reyes (ig who is his boss i haven’t thought much about the company structure yet) is like: boy, if you get the shimada’s to sign i will promote you the second you come back WITH bonuses. and cole explains how hanzo will only sign if he goes in person and reyes is like i’ll book the flight for tomorrow LMAO. so cole goes back to his phone to talk to hanzo and said can i count on you to pick me up at the airport? and he can hear hanzo smiling over the line and HUEHUEHUE

yeah anyway when he gets to hanzo’s city they see each other in person they’re so fucking horny, they go to hanzo’s penthouse and fuck nasty style and then the next day hanzo goes over all the terms, signs the check and huzzah business partners lol. they probably get married in the future too LMAO

is it ethical?? idc the fic is hot to me LOL. one day i’ll write it 🌚

[dandelion-system]

Idk what a subsystem is really but we have, I guess like different areas in our headspace, exclusive to some alters.

Everyone can go in the void. It’s the main area, where everyone hangs out, where front will be, and home to a bunch of alters. It’s got Sasha’s room, Cassie’s room, M’s room, and a few more I can’t remember immediately.

Then we have upstairs. The first floor is mostly for alters that don’t really have a job, other than just fronting and living life (eg being social, eating, drinking, doing homework) my room is here! I used to share with Bee but I moved into my own room (Bee got annoying)

The second floor has mostly littles, as far as I remember. I don’t go up there often.

Third floor is for the caretakers, and the non humans? Saturn and Hestia share a room, but when you go in their room it’s sort of just… sky. It doesn’t have confines. And everything is unfairly comfy. I have to be invited in, mind.

S0-R3n and Alastor also live on this floor, but they have normal rooms as far as I’m aware. S0-R3n probably has a recharge cupboard. I really don’t know.

And then there’s the much less accessible areas. You can’t be invited in, you have to be someone from there or you can’t go there.

The first one we were aware of was the white rooms. It’s like an opposite to the void. Small, winding spaces, all white, instead of open black spaces. I’m not allowed in there anymore, because I’m in my healing era, but it’s where the prosecutors live. Ironically it looks like a therapy lounge in several of the rooms.

Then there’s the slightly more elusive. The playground is a littles only zone, but I’m an age slider so I can go in sometimes. Obviously caretakers can go in too, but otherwise? Littles only (it’s lovely there. Kitty spends all her time here when she isn’t being sarcastic to us. I don’t blame her.)

Then there’s the forest, and there’s the lake.

The forest, I’ve never been to. Most of the alters from the forest, stay in the forest. The only one who really comes in and out is M, who goes in to check up on them, spend some time feeling, then generally goes back to her bedroom quote ‘because its pink and my friends visit me in there and we have stuffies and sleepovers’. From what I know, it’s another open space, but with much more there than the void. I mean, we have a table for games (connect 4 is fun) and a tv and lounge set up in the void, but otherwise it’s just empty. The forest is developed. You can see trees and grass for miles, and it feels like there’s a sky even though there isn’t really one). M found a hammock there once? But there’s also a large meadow. From the sounds of it, really peaceful. Which, honestly? Best idea we ever accidentally subconsciously had because it’s where the trauma holders go. I hear Aria sits between the forest and meadow, against a tree. I miss her.

The lake? River? I don’t know bodies of water. Anyway, it’s not like the forest at ALL. it’s all black, and there’s no clear door or direction in or out. It’s our most guarded area. The water is golden and glowing and spitting and warm, and some alters simply sit along the banks. Some of them have idk, ‘harnessed its power’ or whatever and can take it with them outside the area, should they need to. Dazai likes to carry his around as a book. Which I find amusing. Anyway. If any of you have seen my little pony, it’s like whatever celestial does right before she turns twilight into a princess? The water holds all our memories. It has memories that are alter specific, memories none of us can access. It’s gatekeepers only. I’m only aware of two alters who can go in here, and the only reason I can fathom is that they’re both so detached from the system that it doesn’t affect them? Or they seem themselves as some sort of ultimate system protector, like they have some sort of responsibility? Can’t tell.

Over time as we change we can move between areas. Nebbie never leaves the lake. Dazai I barely at the lake, and close to becoming a caretaker and losing lake privileges. Aria had her own room on the first floor, once. Now I haven’t seen her in over a year. I used to be the BIG LEADER SUPER COOL of the white rooms, but now Maddie is my replace,ent or whatever? She just keeps people in when they can’t handle being let out (props to May and Charlie for working on it tho! See u soon besties). So idk.

Are these subsystems? Maybe.

[biffhofosho]

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter Seven

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: First off, it’s actually crazy to me how vocal you cool kids are about this story considering how small my little third-person POV readership bubble is. Like, I think I’m in love with you people.

Second of all, since you’re so vocal, I hear tell that a few of you would like to file some grievances with your local HR rep regarding my babygirl’s gatekeeping of herself when it comes to her husband lmao. Let’s see what our darling prince might do this chapter to pry open those gates, hm? ;)

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After their second night together, Naran had found things much more troubling for her than the first. It wasn’t just that everything in her bed smelled like Hyungwon now. It wasn’t just that, after one overnight, her body had already started keeping to one side of the bed. Most damningly, she had laid awake far too long dwelling on the way her body had almost compelled her to kiss him. She tried to forgive herself, to rationalize it away as human nature, but no matter what reason she settled on, it wasn’t good enough. She had made a promise to herself that her future would not be ruled by the passing fancies of men, and when Narangerel of Moghulikhan made a choice, she was resolute. She would not invite him into her bed so carelessly so soon.

But by the same token, she had also made a promise to her sister to include the girl’s new brother-in-law in their daily activities, and Naran was also a woman of her word. Over the next week that passed, she found small ways to appease Saran while safeguarding her peace of mind.

When the sisters went to the library, the prince tagged along. Luckily, once they were there, it was a solitary experience, which made it easy for Naran while Saran and her new brother reviewed books together.

Another day, Saran had wanted to paint in the gardens, so Naran had suggested the prince come along to be her sister’s subject. Unfortunately, that backfired since Naran was a dreadful painter, and her sister had ended up begging the crown princess to pose with the crown prince. Sharing a bench for hours with her husband under a shady maple hadn’t exactly been in her plans, especially when their sides had to be pressed together.

At least during the next day, when they had all taken tea together, Naran had finagled it so her sister sat between them, and the crown princess had gotten some much needed distance, save from his big-eyed, gentle-browed looks over his tea cup.

The most challenging day had seen Hyungwon teaching the sisters how to fish in one of the ponds. Fishing wasn’t much of a skill set for the ladies of the steppe, so it had required hands-on instruction, which the prince had been more than agreeable to offer, but the difference in his instruction between the two sisters was marked. Saran had received a side-by-side cast and reel tutorial; Naran, he informed, was a hopeless case, and the prince had taken to wrapping his wife in his arms and carefully positioning her hands and body for “the perfect cast.” She might have caught her first fish that way, but it had come at the high cost of a lingering kiss to her cheek after her success.

Thankfully, the next day saw the whole party of royal ladies on an excursion to an apple festival in town since the silk festival they had initially planned on was further away, and Queen Jigme was not keen on a full day’s ride. Though Naran had been looking for an excuse to get as far away from the palace as possible, the apple festival had turned out to be lovelier than she had dreamed. She had only had apples once in Urga, and they had been far too soft and mealy for her taste, but these were firm and honeyed and all together divine in ways she’d never dreamed.

“Your Royal Highness, please, I beg you take one home for your husband,” beseeched a peddler as she crammed a particularly shiny apple into the princess’s basket.

Now, the apple felt like an anvil in Naran’s hands on the ride home. She considered eating it herself—Hyungwon would never be the wiser—but the farmer had been so proud and so insistent, and the crown princess knew she had to honor her subject’s offering. In the end, she wished she hadn’t. The way her husband’s eyes lit up as he received his first gift from his wife made Naran sway the same way she had when she’d tasted fermented apple cider that morning.

The problem with lively days was how quickly the nights came. That first evening, Hyungwon had cornered the princess in an ill-lit hallway and asked with hopeful eyes if she would visit his chambers later. It had taken all of her strength to say no.

The intensity of their last encounter had frightened Naran. Though there had never been any hope of escaping how attractive she found the man, she thought at least that she might have some measure of control over that attraction, but it had become abundantly clear that, despite her rational mind, her body craved him. She figured if she limited his trespasses into her bed—or hers into his—in time, her mind could overcome her body. Obligations could stay obligations. They could be independent partners and friends—who sometimes had to sleep together for the sake of a nation.

Of course, the more she thought of it, the less reasonable it sounded. After their first night of cataclysmic experiences, Naran realized how quickly she’d become addicted to the pleasure Hyungwon had offered her. Without him, her bed felt too big and her sheets felt too cold, even after they’d been warmed by the servants.

A few more nights like that should have been easier. They weren’t. The knowledge that her husband’s door was a mere sprint across the parlor loomed large in her overactive imagination. Which was why after only an hour into her second night alone, she had retreated to Saran’s room and stayed there the rest of the week. That way, it was easy enough to turn down the prince’s offers for the time being.

Meanwhile, as if to spite her meticulous planning, the rest of their families got along surprisingly easily considering a few months ago, their countries were on the brink of unspoken war. The emperor and the khan, in particular, seemed to have formed some kind of a bond. Most nights, they retired to the emperor’s office to drink and joke so raucously that their laughter reverberated down the halls.

The empress and queen were not as free with one another, to the point that Naran thought they were simply trying to out-noble one another. By the end of the week, in Naran’s opinion, they were neck-and-neck in propriety, modesty, and poise, though Empress Indeok held the edge in sophisticated passive aggression and Queen Jigme surpassed in subtle coercion. Truly, they were a well-matched pair, and, indeed, after the apple festival, the sisters caught the mothers stolen away in a bath closet where they no doubt never expected to be found, giggling and sipping fermented cider straight from the bottle.

Which was why the next day came like a dust storm across the steppe—brutally and unpredictably.

Queen Jigme stood in the parlor before the princess, who thought she’d carved out a moment of peace for herself as Saran and Hyungwon had gone to the kitchen for a snack.

“I have come to tell you we intend to return to Urga tomorrow.”

Air fled the room, leaving an inescapable vacuum.

Naran gaped at her mother. “What? So soon? I thought everyone was getting along? You planned to stay at least two more weeks!”

She had to have heard the queen wrong. They were having fun together. There was no reason to leave!

“Yes, but your father’s health dictates it,” added Jigme, “and you know how the weather can be crossing the steppe this close to October. Every day we delay, we risk a snowstorm, and with your father—”

“Mother, don’t lie to me. October is weeks and weeks away, and you yourself said you had never seen Father in finer spirits.”

The queen stood a little taller now, and it was clear she’d shed her act. “You’re as shrewd as your accursed mother, my obstinate sun. Since we linger here, you are spending every waking moment with the people who have seen you every day for two decades yet hardly a whit of time with your new husband.”

“I'd rather spend it with you since our time is finite,” Naran protested bitterly.

“I will not have a princess of Moghulikan dishonor the country that took her in. Be a newlywed, dearest. Have a picnic. Host a party. Go horseback riding. I have heard your Prince Hyungwon looks very handsome on a horse.”

“Mother!”

“I dare say he will look handsome anywhere, especially in the evenings. I am sure candlelight frames his face well.”

“Are you trying to get me to push you out the door because it’s working?”

“Narangerel, let me speak plainly. I know you have spent every night this week in your sister’s room instead of your own.”

The princess scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor as she shrugged. “What of it? I knew you’d be leaving soon. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jigme was unamused. “Are you or are you not the Princess Supreme of Goryeo?”

Naran rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mother…”

“My love, you will make such beautiful heirs! I can hardly wait to receive the news of my grandchildren.”

“Okay, there it is,” Naran shouted, pushing her mother toward the door. “Yes, please go! Travel safely and wait a long time to come back.”

Jigme laughed and, suddenly, so did Naran, and then just as suddenly, they were both weeping into each other’s arms.

“How I will miss arguing with you,” said the queen into her daughter’s hair.

“I’ll make sure to pick a fight with you in all my letters.”

“And I’ll be sure to scold you back.”

They laughed again through tears and hugged all the tighter. Maybe if Naran never let go, they couldn’t leave her after all.

“If you see an eagle in the sky, be sure to tell Altantsetseg I love her,” begged the princess.

“I will.”

“And give my favorite horse to someone who will ride her often and far. Not Khunbish in the stables. He’s a terrible rider and swears at the horses. You should really turn him out.”

The queen chuckled in agreement as she nodded. “Done, my sun.”

“And please write me often,” Naran said, though the words were getting gummier through her increasingly stuffy nose, “so I don’t forget how to read Moghul.”

“You will not forget who you are, dearest. Of that, I am most certain. You are the best of us.”

“I love you, Mother.”

The queen held her daughter’s face with her hands along with her gaze. Slowly, a smile lit up the corners of Jigme’s strong features. “I love you, too.”

Naran pulled back, wiped her eyes, and tried to stand as tall as her mother had always coached her to. With a bow for her goodnight, the princess turned begrudgingly back to her quarters before her mother’s voice caught her.

“Where are you going?” asked the queen.

“To my room, as you said?”

Jigme smirked. “Your sister’s quarters are the other way. I told her moments before coming here, so she will need you one last night. Come.”

Her mother stretched out her hand, and Naran took it. As they walked back to the guest wing, the princess wondered if this would be the last time she would ever hold her mother’s hand, and she squeezed just a little tighter for just a little longer.

It was a dark day. It wasn’t just that the Moghul royal caravan had been packed and readied, the horses champing at their bits before the gates, but the clouds were thick and heavy as they jostled over Namgyeong. The threat of rain was ever-present, but just as Naran held back her tears watching her family pack into their carriage, so, too, did the clouds hold back theirs. It was only a matter of time before the deluge.

With the khan and the queen already loaded in the carriage, Saran followed, but with only one foot in the cabin, she let out a wail and leapt back out, charging over to her sister.

“This is a mistake!” the young princess shouted. “We can’t leave you here! You belong in Moghulikhan!”

“Saran!” both the queen and the crown princess said in unison.

“Get back in this carriage this instant,” admonished their mother as she eyed the emperor and empress, who were waiting to bid their guests farewell. “You’re making a scene.”

Saran didn’t care as she buried her face in her sister’s hanbok. “I could never bear a move this far from home, so how can you? I know I said I was happy for you, but not when I know what you love most is Moghulikhan. You love it so much, and you are giving it up.”

Naran summoned all her poise and bravery to soothe her little sister’s hair and kiss her head. “It is not Moghulikhan I truly love, but you, my little fox. My match will ensure you find that one special person who brings you joy. You will marry someone who will rule Moghulikhan beside you, and you will be happy and loved, and our people will be forever grateful.”

“They should be grateful to you then,” Saran protested. “I know I am.”

“Thank me by being happy.”

The girl’s hands tightened around Naran’s back. “And what about you? Can you be happy here?”

The crown princess smiled. “I can be happy anywhere knowing you are safe and free.”

“Princess Sarangerel!” called the queen again from the carriage, this time far more desperately.

The sisters rolled their eyes at one another, burst into one final giggle, and hugged one last time. Naran stole the moment to whisper, “Kiss a few boys if you want. Be smart, be strong, be fearless, and never, ever settle. You are Crown Princess of Moghulikhan now, and you are a force to be reckoned with, Your Highness.”

“I love you, Naran!”

“I love you more. Now, go, before Mother has a heart attack or Father goes deaf."

Naran shooed her sister back toward the carriage, and with one final look back, her little sister climbed aboard. One of the servants shut the door, and the next thing Naran knew, the gates had opened and the front of the caravan had already disappeared through. The last thing she saw was the grumpy beak of the goose the prince had gifted them at the wedding ceremony, a ridiculous reminder of the day her life had irrevocably changed.

Naran was sure the clatter of hooves and the snap of the Moghul banners in the sudden gusts would weigh on her mind forever as she watched the last of the carts disappear behind the great wooden doors of Changdeokgung.

“I am sorry to see your family leave,” said the empress behind Naran, startling her. As alone as she felt, the princess had honestly forgotten that anyone else was there with her. “They are very good people.”

“I thank you for saying so,” the princess replied, though her words were hollow.

Hyungwon put his hand on her back in support, but she shrank away. She wasn’t in the mood for comfort or even acknowledgment.

“I never met a man who could hold his liquor as well as Delger Khan,” said Emperor Gongmin as though he hadn’t plotted to take everything away from the man mere months ago.

Naran felt sick.

“I should like to go inside now,” she said as she turned back toward the palace. The princess did not wait for them to follow, even as Hyungwon called out for her.

It started to rain just then. It was only a few fat drops at first, but then the heavens opened with a torrent, and as the other royals scattered under servants’ umbrellas, Naran pressed forward undeterred. At least the rain could hide her tears.

It was deep into a sleepless night when Naran heard a very soft knock on her door.

With a tremendous sigh, she clambered out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself before she shuffled over and rasped, “Who is it?”

“It’s Hyungwon.”

Her head drooped. She was not in the mood to entertain a bored prince, now more than ever.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Could you open the door please?”

Naran growled and swore under her breath, but she opened the door all the same. Waiting on the other side with the sweetest of smiles was the prince.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“You did not. What does his highness need at this late hour?” Truly, Naran had planned to be more polite, but her eyes were tired from crying and she didn’t have the energy.

Hyungwon gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before he said, “I wanted to see if you would join me for a drink?”

He waggled two glasses along with a bottle of clear, sloshing liquid, and as much as the princess burned to drink herself into oblivion, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure, Princess? I know what today asked of you.”

Naran choked back a sob just before she could embarrass herself and instead offered a reluctant nod. Hyungwon echoed it and took a step forward, but she held out her hand to stop him.

“Not here,” she ordered. She wanted to be as far away from any place they could conceivably spend another night together and just as far away from the memories of the ones they already had spent.

“How about my study then? It’s quiet, and no one will bother us there.”

Another single nod from the princess.

“Shall I get dressed?” she asked.

“Come as you are,” Hyungwon answered. “There’s no need for pretenses between us.”

But Naran wasn’t so sure about that. She tugged her robe tighter and cinched the collar with her hand. Following the weak light of the prince’s candle, they walked down the corridor to a wing she had only visited on her initial palace tour. Here, the walls were dark, many draped in tapestries or heavy curtains. At night, it felt more like a brothel. She didn’t remember it looking this suggestive on her tour, yet now, the walls felt close, almost pressing against her.

“Are you okay, Princess?” asked Hyungwon. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your own skin.”

“I’m fine.”

The prince considered her words for a moment before he pushed ahead to a heavy door.

“My private study,” he said as he eased it open.

This room had been on her tour as well, but Naran had been too overwhelmed at the time to bother glancing at it. Now, she’d wished she had for the benefit of seeing it on a sunny day. As with every room in the palace, it was large with soaring ceilings, but swaddled in shadows, it was tantalizingly intimate.

Unlike most of the rooms in the palace, Hyungwon had designed his study with a Western influence. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall while a long dresser anchored the other beneath an enormous mirror that no doubt cost more than the yearly salaries of all the servants back in Urga. When he lit the candelabra in front of it, the whole study glittered.

The prince’s desk commanded the space, however. It was huge and heavy, as though the tree it had once been had grown right there and they’d just built the room around it. Thick, smooth lacquer drew out the warmth in the wood like a magnifying glass while ornate carvings of tigers and dragons in eternal battle exemplified its strength. Short of the throne itself, there was no finer piece of furniture Naran had ever seen.

Hyungwon stood behind his desk, and even in his silk robes, his might was unquestionable. If he opened his lips to declare war on every kingdom in the six realms, Naran wasn’t sure she could stop even herself from kneeling.

But, instead, the prince pulled out his chair and gestured toward it. “Please sit, my lady.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please. You’ll be more comfortable here.”

Naran stared at the immaculate upholstery and overstuffed cushions before she looked back at her husband. “Are you sure?”

Hyungwon nodded and took the seat safely across the desk to make his stance on the issue crystal clear. At last, the princess sank into her chair, too, which was easily the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. He uncorked the bottle, and immediately, the pungent aroma of alcohol filled the study. The prince poured a draft of liquor into both shot glasses and passed one across the table.

When Naran had hers in hand, he said, “I promise, my lady, from here on out, it shall get better.”

Thinking it the toast, the princess raised her glass and knocked it back while Hyungwon followed suit with a smirk on his face. At first, Naran didn’t understand why.

Then she felt it.

Scorching agony blazed a trail down her throat to sit like lava in her stomach. For a second, she thought she might breathe fire.

“What the hell is that!” she wailed as she tried to scratch the taste of naphtha from her tongue.

“I told you it would only get better from here. You’ll like this a great deal more the second go-around.”

“I'm never drinking that again,” Naran swore.

Hyungwon smiled knowingly.

“Seriously, what is that rancid stuff?”

“A gift from the Emperor of Champa.”

“My mother was right then,” Naran mused with a slow smile, “Princess Binh was gunning for an alliance with Goryeo.”

“I wouldn't say the princess was,” Hyungwon informed. “Emperor Gia Long seemed more concerned with the match than his daughter. Princess Binh mostly just complained to me that the weather in Goryeo is too cold and that there are no beaches or coconuts here.”

“If I knew all it took to turn you off from a match was complaining about missing sand and sun, I would have spent more time talking about the Gobi.”

“It was too late by that point. I had already made up my mind about you,” said the prince. He poured another drink and offered it to her. “Again, my lady?”

She bit her lip as she considered, but the other alternative was chatting privately with her husband sober, and she didn’t have the strength left for such a thing after today. Naran downed the shot and grimaced.

“Better?” he asked.

“Still disgusting.”

“But better.”

The truth was, this time, her stomach felt warm and fuzzy instead of full of liquid fire, and her limbs were buzzing lightly. Thanks to the distracting sensations, she probed, “Were there any other princesses you considered that night?”

Hyungwon shrugged. “My father had given me a short list, but after meeting all of them, I knew I couldn’t marry any one of them.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, they were storybook princesses—all beautiful and sweet and perfect, to be sure, but completely one-dimensional.”

“That sounds perfect for you, are you crazy!” Naran retorted.

Hyungwon smiled. “Perfect for my kingdom, but you know me well enough now, my lady. I’m hardly perfect for my kingdom.”

“So, this is why I find myself sulking in the most expensive chair I’ve ever seen drinking the foulest drink I’ve ever tasted from a princess who hoped to wed my husband?”

The prince poured yet another round and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

Naran tipped back her glass, and this time, instead of a hiss as the liquid coated her throat, she hummed. “Better.”

“Told you,” said Hyungwon with two charming high eyebrows.

“That’s no reason to get cocky.”

The prince laughed, and on a day with no laughter at all, it sounded all the warmer. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Hyungwon said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Maybe we should take the drinks slower then. This stuff is a lot stronger than soju.”

“Maybe you should stop making my decisions for me,” Naran challenged, tapping her empty glass on the table for a refill. “I might be Goryeon by title, but I'm Moghul by birth. Alcohol is already in our blood.”

With a stern eye, the prince poured a noticeably smaller portion this round, and she sighed but drank it all the same.

Hyungwon watched her lips pucker as it went down and then he said, “How are you faring today?”

“Great. Everything is going exactly as I always hoped and dreamed,” she said, the sarcasm extra biting thanks to the bitterness in the alcohol. “Another.”

Hyungwon repeated the same shallow pour and then sat across from his wife, watching her with gentle eyes. Either he did not know what to say or he was afraid of another blow to his self-esteem—or maybe it was neither of those things. Everything about him was so soft right now, borderline inviting, like something Naran could fall right into.

“I’m afraid that was the last time I shall ever see my father.” The words were out too fast for her greased lips to catch them as was the tear at the corner of her eye. She swiped it angrily away as she grumbled, “I should have married Prince Grigoriy like my grandfather wanted.”

Hyungwon blinked hard. “Grigoriy of Kazan?”

Naran nodded. “My grandfather had intended us practically, but he could not force my hand.”

“So that’s why he was staring at you all night…” said the prince, lost in a memory of the night they met in her grandfather’s ballroom.

Naran thought back to it, too. It was harder now to recall some of the details since most of the night had been overtaken by memories of Hyungwon, but she did recall avoiding every corner of the room the Kazan prince occupied just so she didn’t have to come up with another reason to refuse him.

“I should have just married him. At least then I would have been close to home.”

The prince pouted his lower lip, and Naran’s attention couldn’t help but shoot to it—her husband did have an unfairly pretty mouth.

“But,” Hyungwon objected, “all you would have for dinner every night is beets and cabbage. We eat much better in Goryeo.”

At that, Naran burst out laughing. “You truly do. Beets and cabbage… Never thought about that. I’ll drink to that.”

The princess tipped back her glass again, and Hyungwon drained his, too.

“You know,” she said, biting her lip and leaning farther across the table than she normally would have, “you’re way too pretty. I don’t like your face.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You don’t?”

“I do not! Even when I want to tell you to go far away from me, I cannot. It makes it very hard for me to hate you.”

“Why do you need to hate me?”

“Because if I don’t hate you, then I have to admit I have in some way accepted the man who took me away from everything I love.”

Hyungwon was quiet for a moment as he busied himself with two fresh pours. He downed his immediately while Naran watched him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“There’s no point in apologizing now.”

The prince kept his head down though he shook it gently. “You misunderstand. I’m not sorry that you’re by my side now, but I am sorry for what it cost you. Maybe that’s what I’m sorrier about than anything. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to becoming my father, yet I can’t regret it because you’re here now… with me.”

Naran’s hand trembled, and she misjudged the desk when she reeled back and splashed liquor all over the wood, but there was no time to care, not when the prince was staring at her so openly with such flushed, wet lips.

“I should slap you for such an insulting apology,” she said.

Hyungwon waited, perhaps for the justified blow, but Naran’s hand didn’t move.

Instead, her voice dropped as her eyes slid to the mirror where their reflections danced in the candelabra flames.

“Why did you even need me anyway? If you wanted someone to be your friend, you had a line as long as your borders. Anyone would have been a better choice for you than I am. Why did you pick the one person who thinks of marriage as the forfeiture of all freedom?”

“What is so wrong with depending on someone? I've lived my whole life without it. It isn't freedom,” replied the prince, his eyes falling to his glass. “It's a prison of loneliness.”

He knocked back the drink without so much as a wince. Somehow, as he hunched over his desk, his smooth edges blurred even further and begged her to reach out.

Naran ran her fingertip around the lip of her glass as guilt and something even more intimidating rippled through her.

“Aren’t you lonely, too?” he asked in a gruff whisper.

“It's not loneliness I feel but bitterness.”

The prince scoffed. “Of course, it is... My father was right. I am a fool.”

“You could have had anyone, my lord. As grateful as I am for the protection of my people, you didn't owe Moghulikhan anything. Why did you have to choose me?”

“I guess you can't help how you feel,” he lamented.

Panic set her heart on fire. “How do you—”

The prince cut her off with a frantic look. “Which is why I know I'm asking for the impossible, but please, for my sake, Princess, can you tell me just one thing you like about me because I can’t stand another day thinking I married someone who despises me?”

“I don’t despise you,” Naran admitted softly. “I’m not sure anyone could.”

Flashes of adoring faces from every room he had ever entered stormed through her mind, the thin-eyed, bitten-lip women clinging most tenaciously to her memories. The princess downed her last shot to chase them away.

“But you don’t like me either,” Hyungwon finished.

The couple’s gazes could not waver from one another, no matter how hard Naran fought to sever their connection.

Your eyes talk to one another…

At the memory of Magda’s words, something uncoiled in the princess’s chest and snaked through her body.

There was much about her husband Naran admired. Hyungwon listened. He defended her. He upheld his promises. But he might interpret any one of those things to mean more than just appreciation for someone she respected. Best to stick to something superficial, she thought.

As desperate to fill the Moghulikhan-sized hole in her heart as she was to avoid the dejection in her husband’s voice, the princess reached across the ocean of his desk. She held her breath, her hand frozen as though anything further would trigger a trip wire that could fundamentally rearrange everything between them.

Naran bit her lip.

“I like this little freckle here,” she said as her fingertip glanced across the pinprick dot on the side of his nose.

Hyungwon stiffened at her touch though his mouth slackened.

“And this one, too,” she continued. This time, it was her thumb that pressed on the tawny freckle dead center on his bottom lip. “I like it a lot.”

In the end, she gave away too much of herself. The prince now knew how carefully she had mapped his face. Even though a wife didn’t need a reason to look at her husband, Naran thought that maybe she should have chosen anything else. His silky hair, his expressive eyes, his proud shoulders—

Only then Naran realized she was still touching his lips.

Hyungwon kissed the pad of her thumb and her breath hitched. She yanked back her hand and tried to quash its shaking by sitting on it, but she felt the vibrations all the way up her arm even then.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he looked away at last.

Naran’s skin was aflame as she busied herself divining shapes from the inky blobs on the prince’s blotter.

“How about one final drink?” he suggested.

“Okay.”

Hyungwon poured to the rim this time, but before they could drink, out came the things that had occupied the princess’s thoughts all day as she had stared blankly in her room. “So, what happens now that everyone has gone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I’m supposed to spend my days apart from yours.”

“Oh…” His eyes fell to the liquid fire in his glass. “Yes, I’m sure a princess has as much to occupy her time as a prince does.”

“So, as far as ensuring heirs, shall we establish some kind of schedule then?”

At this, Hyungwon’s face soured as the princess had never seen before. “A schedule— Does it always have to be about heirs between us? Am I not allowed to just want you sometimes, too?”

Want me? Naran thought, absolutely incredulous. Beyond the bounds of our contract?

“It is best if we keep feelings out of these things, your highness,” she answered with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

“Who’s talking about feelings? Was it ever about love with any of the others you've been with?”

“No,” she admitted.

Both lovers had been handsome, forward, and uncomplicated. Words were rarely exchanged. They had taken her at first opportunity—in alleys or the stables and once in the grass. Before her wedding night, Naran had never even had sex in a bed. And the other thing those lovers had had in common? After a few meetings, they were gone from her life. But the princess could not outrun the prince. For better or worse, they were in each other’s lives forever.

Hyungwon looked as forthright as ever as he asked, “Then shouldn’t I be able to say that I desire you as a man desires a woman? If you let them, why can’t you let me?”

Naran downed her last drink, and in her rush, a bit wept from the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and then the corner, and there was no missing the way the prince’s eyes followed her tongue.

“Do you think,” he said slowly, “you could ever desire me?”

In the perfect silence of the empty wing, the princess could hear her every breath. It was too fast, too ragged.

“Yes.”

The air was electrified. Every hair on her arms stood on end. Somewhere outside, a dog bayed at the late summer moon.

At once, Hyungwon sent the glasses and bottle tumbling to the carpet with a thud and a splash. He kicked back his chair as he shot up to circle the desk. Naran had to crane her head to look up at the towering frame of her husband until she found his heavy eyes. Without a word, he scooped her out of her chair. The princess yelped, her hands flinging around his neck as he spun the pair of them to the now-empty desk. The smell of alcohol and something spicier swirled around them. He leaned toward her lips before catching himself at the last second, and whatever gentleness had lingered in those eyes fled entirely.

The prince was nothing but dark lusts now.

To Naran’s surprise, Hyungwon sat her on the edge of his desk, and between the cold wood and the loss of his scorching body, she shivered. It only worsened when she felt his fingers at the knot of her belt, and seconds later, her robe fell open to expose the thin white silk of her nightgown.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. He simply stooped over to kiss the column of her throat with ravenous lips. The princess gasped and tipped her head to the side to give him more skin to taste. He was quick to cover the new ground as his hand traced up her frame to her covered breast where he toyed with the soft mound beneath. Naran’s body responded with both a desperate moan and a tightening nipple aching for his fingers to shower it with attention.

It was easy to descend into hedonism with him. Though the alcohol had burned away her resentment, Naran was still heartbroken and angry and tired of feeling both. Hyungwon, though, was warm and real and determined to transport her out of the grayness she’d been mired in, as much for her as for himself evidently.

“Is this—ah—is this for the throne?” she said through her gasps, but Hyungwon shook his head.

“Not tonight. This is for my wife.”

The princess let out a little cry as she felt the familiar tingle between her thighs. In a matter of a few words, her body was tuned to his.

Before Naran could process it, Hyungwon had dropped to his knees. With the utmost care, he eased the satin slippers from each of her feet before his fingers played about her naked ankles. There, he traced the hills and valleys along her heels and, once they were mapped, his hands glided along the flare of her calves. With his every touch, little sparklers alighted in her head and heart.

The higher his hands climbed, so did the hem of her gown. Cold air rushed under the fabric, and by the time Hyungwon had bared her knees, the princess was begging for the relief from the rush of heat to her core. Leisurely, he parted her legs, and with every inch, the princess felt a little more frantic and a little more self-conscious. Once he had spread her knees as far as the desk would allow, they quivered and threatened to close again.

“Trust me, my princess,” said the prince in his rich velvet.

“I’ve never—” Against her will, Naran’s voice shook. “I’ve never had anyone so close to me there before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Naran held her breath. She was scared and overwhelmed and painfully aware of her body, but Hyungwon showed no sign of hesitation or second thoughts. With a shaky exhale, she admitted, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t. Not until you beg me to.”

Her husband turned his attention to one of her knees and placed his lips there. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more like a caress with the tender skin of his mouth, back and forth in soothing waves. Occasionally, his tongue would gloss along her flesh and only then would he seal his ministration with a true kiss. With one knee bathed in his adoration, he switched to the other.

Just as Naran slouched against the desk, Hyungwon moved his mouth to her mid-thigh, and this time, he sucked the responsive skin there until she arched up with a howl. He released her, and when he pulled back, the princess saw a dark mark on the once-unblemished peachy flesh. Instantly, wanton desire trickled at her sex, begging for attention he wasn’t yet ready to give.

Hyungwon nudged his new brand with the tip of his nose before he kissed it and then placed a twin mark alongside it. He kept indulging her with his tongue until the princess was nearly ready to explode.

“Oh, please! More, my prince. Please,” Naran pleaded.

The prince broke his seal at last and shifted his gaze up to hers. He charted the sag of her jaw and the peek of her tongue lolling at the corner of her mouth, and he smiled. “More?”

“Higher!” she demanded.

Hyungwon gathered her nightgown at her hips, the fabric drooping in front of her center in a last-ditch effort of modesty but sparing nothing else for her prince’s imagination. Here, he kissed and nibbled every surrounding inch of virgin skin until Naran’s thighs shook with the foreplay and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She let out a sob of frustration, and it garnered all his attention.

Their eyes met, hers even heavier-lidded than his. Through the well of tears at her lashes, Hyungwon’s face splintered into a kaleidoscope of ethereal beauty.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” soothed the prince.

He hoisted up the last of the gown over her hips and exposed her core for him.

“Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

Naran held her breath and collapsed onto the desk, too embarrassed to watch.

She felt a kiss at the juncture of her thigh and lip followed by another mirrored on the opposite side. It was feather-light and unbearably sensual, but it was only the prelude to a new and unforgettable kind of kiss. With pulse-pounding pressure, Hyungwon raked his flush bottom lip up along her seam to kiss the hardening button peeking through, and as good as that felt, it only intensified with a second pass, this one featuring the flat of his tongue.

Naran’s moan made way for a pathetic whine. Her legs squeezed against the onslaught of pleasure, so Hyungwon curled his fingers around the meat of her thighs to keep her at his mercy.

He took his work seriously, keeping his rhythm consistent save for the swirl he would occasionally surprise her with around her straining bud. In those moments, the princess saw stars.

When her eyes finally opened, she found her head had lolled to the side, and there she found her husband’s reflection glowing, not just by tangerine flame but by something softer and even more shimmery. Hyungwon felt her gaze, and his mouth lifted from her only to be replaced by his middle finger easing deep into her pinkness. He turned toward the mirror to catch her eyes there, and slowly, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that deepened until she felt yet another delicious burn on her skin.

“How pretty my little star looks writhing on my desk,” Hyungwon murmured, and then suckled a little higher to adorn more of her skin with his black marks of desire.

His finger moved slowly in her walls, coaxing forth ripples of ecstasy Naran had never felt before. Each stroke was deliberate and far, far too measured to do anything but keep her on the precipice of climax. It was heaven. It was hell.

“So tight,” Hyungwon hummed, and she whimpered. “So delicious. You’re totally at my mercy now, aren’t you?"

Naran couldn’t answer, but she knew he wasn’t looking for that anyway. Her legs tightened at his illicit words. Between her husband’s praise and his intimacy, she squirmed for him.

He brought his lips back to the cherry blossom at her sex, and when they closed around it to suckle, the princess keened low and long. The pressure was relentless and just right to make her forget anything that wasn’t Chae Hyungwon. Her hips bucked, but he used his free hand to hold her down while the other continued to stoke the fire inside her.

“Do you like when I spoil you like this?” he asked as he came up for air.

“Yes… Yes, yes, yes!” Naran answered. “But I want more. Faster!”

“How many times have you called me lazy, hm? Maybe I just want to take my time, to feast on you and show you what a sweet indulgence laziness can be.”

To her horror, Hyungwon removed his finger, leaving her core seizing around nothing. Tears sprang to her eyes in desperation, and she sat up on her elbows to gape at the man who was abandoning her just as her addiction had mounted to frenetic levels.

“You can’t—” she protested, but he just smiled, smug and scheming all at once.

When he dove back in, he focused on one fold and then the other, with long strokes of his tongue before pulling each one at a time into his mouth. Every nerve ending tingled. Every inch of skin yearned for more of his attention.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he mumbled between her legs, and Naran’s fingers raced into his locks.

It felt so good to hold his head in her hands. Her nails raked against his scalp before she took to tugging on the glossy strands. Hyungwon purred contentedly as he licked up the mess continuously leaking from her sex, and the noisier he was, the harder it made the princess shake until she realized she was grinding herself on his face. Mortified, she unwound her fingers from his locks as she mumbled an apology.

“I didn’t tell you to let me go,” Hyungwon scolded, and when she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her with a chin covered in arousal and eyes fixed with determination.

It was clear he had no intention of finishing the job unless she caved to his wishes, so Naran ran her hands back through his bangs to bare his smooth brow. The prince’s eyes closed as he leaned into her grip, and it was so tender, that she thought her heart might burst, but if she stopped, he would stop, and she couldn’t bear the thought again.

Hyungwon’s finger was back at her core now with the addition of another. Together, they traced her entrance, and every time she thought he would enter her again, he deprived her of the gratification. It was the purest torture of her life, and Naran could barely stand it. Her need for her husband had reached embarrassing levels too terrifying to admit.

At last, two fingers glided into her wet and ready indecency, sending her arching up from the desk with a wail.

“It's so much!” she said between heavy pants.

“Too much?”

“Not enough!”

Hyungwon smiled as he picked up speed at last, stretching her walls with every thrust to his knuckles. Luscious coos of gratitude spilled from Naran’s lips as she took his fingers greedily. He knew just how to reach the parts inside of her that responded most ferociously, and in moments, she was teetering over the edge she’d been standing on forever.

His fingers pistoned within her now, churning up filthy sounds that brought color to the princess’s cheeks and hunger to the prince’s eyes.

“I can’t—breathe,” Naran gasped pathetically. “I’m begging you please! Please. I want to let go!”

Hyungwon groaned and dove back to her heat again. His mouth sealed around her pulsing button now as he sucked and flicked his tongue against her until she thought she might go mad. He slipped both of her legs over his shoulders and pressed against her with single-minded resolve to make her forget everything that wasn’t him.

She risked a glance at him, and things got fuzzy fast. His elegant face was framed between the softness of her thighs, his nose bumping against her mound and his eyes shuttered with conviction. Her hand cupped the back of his head as her hips couldn’t stop themselves from driving into his mouth.

And then those wicked eyes opened, locking on hers.

Bliss ripped through Naran with catastrophic devastation. Every muscle within her shook as her lungs constricted and her walls pulsed. Her heels dug into her husband’s back as her thighs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him.

Here, on a desk where armies were commanded and laws were enforced, the princess came undone with a racking cry.

But, true to his word, Hyungwon wasn’t done.

He kept his fingers thrusting into her quaking walls as one climax ended and another threatened, only this one felt unbearable and impossible. The pleasure was too intense, and her hips tried to run from him as though they were afraid of such unfathomable ecstasy.

Naran’s mind emptied. Even through winched eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I can’t take it, oh!” she wailed.

“Yes, you can, darling,” he assured. “Just a little more, I know you can.”

“My pr— Yes, I—”

The tip of his tongue flicked her swollen bud again, fast this time and with no restraint. As her vision whitened, Naran clawed the desk, no doubt leaving scratches in the impeccable veneer. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that didn’t seize then.

Another swirl of his tongue and a long, fierce suckle, and she was gone.

She thought she might have screamed, but she might have lost any senses that weren’t solely centered on the exquisite decadence between her thighs.

She collapsed then, whimpering, the last of her strength focusing on her heel to push him back by the shoulder.

“Please, no more,” she whimpered, absolutely deflated. “I beg you.”

“As you wish, my darling. Feel better?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled her gown back down her legs.

“You’re—wow,” Naran stammered. “You’re really good at that.”

Something fanged and slippery snaked through her chest at the thought of all the practice he had required to become so skilled, but with one glance at his eyes now buoyed by a soft smile, it tempered.

“Do you need help getting up?” he asked.

“You’re not going to—to take me?” the princess asked incredulously.

“I told you tonight wasn’t about the throne. All I wanted was to make you feel good, my lady. Was I successful?”

Naran narrowed her eyes at him. She could tell by the way his tongue probed his cheek and his chest puffed that the man was keenly aware of just how thoroughly he had devastated his wife. His smug confidence was as appealing as it was infuriating.

“You were,” she admitted carefully.

“It was a pleasure to serve you then, my lady. So, that’s a no to the help?”

“No,” she insisted, though as soon as she put her toes back to the ground, she wobbled and stumbled back against the desk. “Yes.”

Hyungwon snickered and helped guide Naran back into the chair, where she slumped instantly. Alcohol mixed with the chaser of ecstasy to keep the room spinning around her, so she closed her eyes while her breathing steadied. Images of her body writhing in the mirror while her husband kneeled between her legs insisted on flashing in her mind, and a sigh tumbled out of her to her absolute mortification.

“You all right?” he asked with a grin evident in his voice.

“Just fine,” she answered immediately, waving him off.

While Naran lounged in the chair, the prince picked up the glasses and bottle from the floor, and something surprisingly boastful of her own bubbled in her heart.

“I don’t think the Emperor of Champa would appreciate our use of his gift,” she laughed.

“Maybe I should write to him to thank him again?”

At the seriousness in the prince’s voice, the princess shot up in her seat. “Don’t you dare, sire!”

“And what are you going to do to stop me?”

This time, Hyungwon was unmistakably provoking her, and Naran bit her lip. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she held her liquor well, but when his playful side came out, it always made her feel drunker than she really was.

“You better not,” she warned, “or, next time, you drink alone.”

At this, Hyungwon pouted. “Didn’t I make this worth your while?”

Naran shrugged a shoulder as casually as she could manage. “Maybe this is slightly better than what I was doing…”

“And maybe this was a little for me, too,” he admitted, “because now I will think of you every time they force me in here to do work I don’t want to do. Instead, I’ll think of someone I’d rather be doing.”

“My lord!” Naran cried, indignant, as she cinched her robe tight to her throat again, and Hyungwon laughed in his carefree, spirit-lifting way.

“You’re very fun to tease, my lady.”

“And you’re very annoying, my lord.”

“How are you feeling? Are you ready to return to your room?”

Naran pressed her lips together as she considered more than just her husband’s question. When they had come here, she had been determined to keep him as far from her room as possible, but now, the understanding that she would be going back solo was more disheartening than she thought. Maybe she was lonelier than she realized.

“I think so,” she answered though.

“Then I shall see you back, Princess.”

Naran rose on still-shaky legs to join her husband in the hallway, and slowly, they made their way back toward their building. They chatted idly about their schedules for the week, his filled with meetings and diplomatic engagements while most of her obligations involved goodwill ambassadorship with the empress. It may not have been anything she had wanted for her life, but it was less onerous than she thought. Of course, maybe that was also colored by her tipsy, post-full body release daze.

Just then, Naran stumbled and caught herself against the wall. Hyungwon let out the briefest of chuckles before he stopped them both and swept her up into the basket of his arms to her yelp.

“I can manage on my own,” she protested, swatting at his arm behind her knees.

“Of course, my lady, but it's taking a very long time, and I would like to get to my room before sun-up.”

She scoffed. “Please. You're never in a hurry to get anywhere. You just wanted to show how strong you are.”

“You think I'm strong?” he echoed, but she could tell by the flex in his voice that she was on target.

Naran folded her hands defiantly in her lap even though she would have felt far stabler if she’d wrapped them behind the prince’s neck.

“You do not appreciate help, do you?” Hyungwon pressed.

“I would if I truly needed it. Are you sure you don't just like playing the savior?”

“I wouldn't say ‘just.’ Perhaps one day I hope you might need me back.”

Back?

“Besides,” he added, “I don’t mind an excuse to have your arms around me.”

“They're not—” With horror, Naran realized that her body had betrayed her, and, at some point, she had knotted her hands behind his neck after all, and worse yet, she could not will them back to her lap. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” said Hyungwon with a grin.

“After this, I feel rather badly about kicking you out of my room so quickly the other night,” she admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps next time I will not be so rash.”

“Thank you, Princess,” was all he said, though he was smiling smugly to himself again.

At last, they reached their wing, and the prince put his wife down at her doorstep, though he waited there awkwardly as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he said into the silence. “I know you didn’t want to.”

Naran kept her eyes on her slippered feet as she replied, “Thank you for asking. Truly, I am glad I went.”

“You are?”

At the hope in his voice, her eyes shot up to find his waiting, dark as always but with none of his particular brand of blackness that made her wary of his designs. This time, the darkness was inviting—and in many ways, that made it all the more dangerous.

Hyungwon took a step forward. Naran took one back. Her spine was flush to her door, and she could feel the carvings digging through the thin fabric of her robe. His hand flattened on the panel beside her face as he leaned down.

His breath blazed in the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Please think well of me, my lady. After all, we only have each other now.”

With that, Hyungwon kissed his wife’s cheek and bid her goodnight before he disappeared through his own bedroom door.

[twilightknight17]

Last night on P3R: middle-school SEES, struggling with my social calendar, the Abyss of Time, questionable movie choices, and oh god we finished Sunset and now I’m hitting sad stuff in everything else I’m playing/watching too.

I’m still in Tartarus from last time, so I can knock out a few more floors before we go home. I’ve been introduced to a new thing, though, and it’s a Big Hand!

I kind of love how goofy the hands are. They do a little dance and sometimes it syncs up with the music. ^_^

After that, it’s time for the next gatekeeper floor! And it’s--

...oh. Oh god. Is this it? I’m not ready for this. I’ve got Mitsuru with me, but oh man. Not the Table.

……

...false alarm. This is a Terminal Table, not a Crying Table. We’re safe for a little longer.

That wasn’t so bad.

Also, I got a weapon for Shinji as a quest reward, and it’s a crossing sign from in front of a school. It’s so silly.

I rolled through the next set of floors pretty quick, but I don’t think anyone’s quite prepared to take on another gatekeeper. Everyone is pretty drained in terms of SP. So we’re gonna head home for the night, and go learn some more nonsense from school tomorrow.

...all right, actually an acceptable discussion related to the book we’re reading. But hey, sometimes your soulmate can be your rival! Seven years from now, two rival soulmates are gonna be climbing through a cognitive space station!

This is not a fair discussion when Minato’s soulmate still isn’t here for another month and a half.

Anyway, Mitsuru is very worried about Shinji. He wants to extend his leave of absence from school again even though he’s come back to the dorm. So I guess he’s been absent for two years now? She really wants him to re-enroll, though. She, Akihiko, and Shinji were the only three members of SEES originally, back when the three of them were in middle school.

Apparently they could barely handle the first floor of the tower, which… They were children, so I’m not surprised. No adult supervision, either, and Mitsuru only had minor navi powers. I’m surprised none of them got killed. At least Ken has all of us who’ve already learned to fight to keep him safe.

They promised that they’d all graduate high school together, which explains why Mitsuru is so invested. She clearly cares about both of them a lot.

You can hand over the extension form here, but there’s also the option to hold onto them and go find Shinji to talk again. So… I guess you can literally just end the events there if you choose to not take the form back and go pry.

...there’s nothing we can do?

And any miracles I can make will come too late. If only my sister was here… It’s just a cruel twist of fate that which twin survives the car accident determines whether Shinji can live ten years later.

He says he’s happy to spend time with me, though.

This isn’t fair, you can’t hit me like this after the fic Jade and I finished and the end of MGS4 and the fic my other friend is writing AND--

God. And he doesn’t want to tell anyone.

At least Junpei is happy. He really, really likes Chidori. But he’s willing to go at her pace on everything.

Good for you, my guy.

Let’s go upstairs and check on Ken. He’s banging something around in his room, so probably good to make sure that he hasn’t dropped a box on his head or something.

He’s fine, but he does ask me to come in, because he wants to ask for a favor. Turns out, he’s got a pet hamster!

...you’re gonna be fine, Ken. But okay. What’s the little guy’s name?

……amazing. Yes, I will take care of Hamburger, but I’m also not gonna let anything happen to you. Everyone here is going to take care of you. You’ve noticed, right?

Because you’re the youngest and you’re our collective baby brother/kid. No one wants you to get hurt, and it’s unnerving how you talk like you don’t matter, and like you’re not planning to make it through all this alive.

Maybe school will be less depressing. It’s a good day to go to art club. Apparently Keisuke’s dad is very enthusiastic about him studying art abroad! And he says he’s going to go! But then he immediately says he’s not excited about it, so… Keisuke, seriously. What do you want to do?

Ah, well, I’m sure he’ll figure it out.

And then a box falls on Minato’s head, and everything goes dark.

Keisuke gets Mina to the nurse’s office, and after he wakes up, checks him over. Apparently Minato has dodged a concussion. He blames himself, because apparently he’s the one who put the box on the shelf. He’s not used to cleaning, because the maid does all of that at home.

Right. Sure. Careless at cleaning because of the maid. Cool.

He really seems to like the idea of being a doctor, and he’s afraid that if he goes to become an artist, that’s it, he can never be a doctor.

So… sounds like you made a decision, dude.

Keisuke. What. Do. You. Want. For fuck’s sake.

Anyway. So people have been talking about the culture festival all week. There’s gonna be a haunted house. There’s gonna be fried food. The archery club was gonna do a maid cafe, which I know because Yukari was so mad she was gonna have to wear a maid dress.

But, a typhoon is rolling in, so the festival is canceled, and isn’t gonna be rescheduled despite Mitsuru’s efforts. And after school on Friday, we head straight home, because the wind is starting to really kick up.

But… there’s still one person wandering around Port Island Station.

He’s not worried about the oncoming storm. He wants to talk, specifically about Chidori. He asked if she was okay. If we were taking care of her. If she was being a problem.

...no, you dumb asshole.

He also wants to bitch at me again about how we want to stop the Dark Hour.

Apathy? Maybe if you’d caught me six months ago. I have people I like now, and a reason to care. Meanwhile, you’re sitting there talking about how I don’t understand the ‘true value’ of my powers. What value is that? Wandering around at midnight killing people, like you do?

Minato is drenched by the time we get back to the dorm, because the downpour has kicked in and the typhoon has properly arrived. Everyone is a little cranky about missing the festival (except Yukari), and Minato’s got chills and fatigue from getting soaked, so he opts to go to bed early because he’s not feeling well.

…uh. Hi? Is the elevator about to crash?

Igor says that he hasn’t called me in my dreams in a while, and wants to open up some more special fusions for me to do. Which is great and all, but like… I am trying to sleep because I am sick. Can we do this any other time?

I see. Well, that’s… vague? Are you talking about like… the other Full Moon Shadows? The Clockwork God? Do you know what’s about to happen and won’t tell me? Although I guess you can’t help it, considering who made you.

Even if he wasn’t always like that.

Well, let’s get a good night’s sleep and see how we feel in the morni--

Minato. Mina. Darling. It’s MONDAY. You slept for TWO DAYS?

So, according to Q, Minato was feeling well enough that the team went to Tartarus last night. And Igor left the Velvet Room at some point, making it unstable enough to crash the elevator into the Abyss of Time. Apparently it’s not just the Abyss that no one remembers. They don’t seem to remember the instigating trip to Tartarus either.

Weird. But understandable I guess.

Anyway I missed two days of possibly playing my MMO all day. You could have at least showed me my teammates checking on me!

I guess I’ll spend my vacation hanging out with Shinji. Senpaiiii, teach me to cook!

...senpai is mean. XD

But apparently I’m a menace in the kitchen, so maybe I deserve it.

Let’s go to the movies, too!

Yes, we’re seeing this. It’s a movie about cute animals!

…….oh fuck me this is Watership Down isn’t it

Shinjiro-senpai I’m so sorry.

He sounds like he’s about to cry. X’’’’D

I thought it was a nice movie!!!!

Well, now someone has wandered into Tartarus again, so let’s head back, and check in with the Velvet Room about those new fusions. I’m not a high enough level for them yet, but it can’t hurt to look.

...why does it get its own fire attack. Why does it inflict charm.

WHY IS ITS LEVEL UP ITEM ITS HEAD. WHAT HEAD.

God.

After buying everyone new weapons and fusing some more personas, we’re probably going to be in Tartarus for a while. Because, well…

I’m broke.

So next time, yeah, we’re gonna save people, but also, time to look for so much money.

[commence-screaming]

i can’t believe I haven’t explained to the general public how Bain is an alien. yeah there was that ONE thing I sent AC but that doesn’t count okay 😆

Payday 2 spoilers hahaa

So during the end cutscene, the couple seconds where jacket throws his tape… there’s a weird stone in the background.

It’s written in Kataru! Luckily I know the cipher… though I can’t be bothered to find a higher quality one so wfejvdjd

Okay okay hear me out

Kataru cipher is written from right to left, top to bottom.

BAIN/OURWATCHER/FALLEN

Because this is a tombstone :) if you’re wondering what a Watcher is, it’s explained. ovks had a limited dlc for payday 2 called the “completely overkill pack” and there happened to be a certain mask description for a particular one…

Watchers in the book of Enoch were angels who wanted to be with human women and were punished for that… however we’re not sure if the book of Enoch is canon to payday lore (even though it mentions Nephilim) so I say that Watchers are aliens. Generally. Something very not human.

It makes the meaning of that translation interesting. It gives depth to other weird details that are in the game.

Like in the contact database, Bain says something along the lines of “I am the gatekeeper, or the watchman, if you will.” and “whatever I tell you might be a lie to protect myself. If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me” and if the truth is that Bain is actually the gang’s Watcher, it makes sense.

“I don’t see how it could’ve gone this way, but I’m only human.” I mean, mostly. It’s not technically a lie

Bain is partially human, since he was “born.” He also mentions him having a grandpa who went heisting (big bank stealth) so I would say that the alien stuff is somewhere in his lineage.

He’s very apologetic when a mission fails, by the way. I would speculate that he’s like that because of Hoxton’s arrest but he was like that since the first game. I wonder what he’s trying to make up for :)

All the jokes would have deeper meaning if Bain is an alien of some sort

In the Mega Watcher mask description, it says “they communicate using their minds.” It would fit into how you hear Bain’s voice clearly through even flash bangs, but nobody else’s. There’s actually no official content (that I know of) depicting Bain talking to his crew over earpieces. It’s not like ovks hadn’t modeled earpieces before, look at the guards in the train transport heist! Each time they talk to Bain it’s always over the phone (comic collaboration)

(official Locke and Load comic)

He’s also able to talk to his crew after the EMP bomb goes off in Boiling Point (which took out a whole facility PLUS superhumans)

in that last part he can somehow see what the player is doing as if he has cameras in their masks… except that couldn’t be. Because it shouldn’t be working. If you take the briefcase before Bain asks you to, he has a few different lines like “how did you know I needed that briefcase?” “You read my mind,” and “are you psychic or something?”

and if Bain is a Watcher, these quotes are hilarious. It was right there all along!

“(They) use their large eyes” take a look at the color of the Watcher mask.

Bain’s favorite color is blue. We know it’s true because Crimenet’s color scheme is blue… and Bain’s eyes are blue too. Coincidence? …Maybe. I’m not ruling it out. It would be messed up considering what happens to one of his eyes. My dude got nerfed. and was probably experimented on if what Locke says is anything to go by

“to witness, gather and share information” could they mean the way that the crew can somehow see through walls? How Bain can highlight objectives for you if you can’t find something? Nobody can hide from him.

Bain wears a fleur de lis ring on the pinkie of his right hand. Yes, like the guide of bain

(Something I want to point out, bain is terrible at lying to his team actually. Sooo the detection meter is just future Russian glasses? Yeaahhh sure Bain)

I guess this definitely isn’t mind control or any sort of skill *cough cough* joker *cough* There’s one last thing I want to put down here because it was never explained in canon.

HONESTLY NOT SURE WHAT THIS IS. Could it be the “Watcher of the Star?” is it Bain’s ancestor? or is Bain immortal somehow I don’t know but no normal guy would just have this laying around XD

Bottom line is that if Bain isn’t then he’s definitely SUSPICIOUS. Just putting that out there.