#and the previous hints for those keeping track:

[seijorhi]

rhi could we get a hint about the line up??? cause I feel like everyone forgets higuruma and I have a feeling he's definitely in there...

hmmmm all five of the characters appear together in the same arc but not all on the same side

[pin-k-ink]

breaking point // hinata shoyo

tw ⇢ possessive!hinata, groping, obsessive behavior, semi-public fingering, cunnilingus, mating press, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentioned masturbation, rough sex, squirting, fingering

wc ⇢ 4.4k

a/n: not proofread

"And here we have the star of today's match, Hinata Shoyo!"

Your bright voice immediately commanded Hinata's attention, shattering his previous conversation into irrelevance. As his eyes landed on you, he felt the breath still in his lungs.

'Good god, she's beautiful.'

The thought blossomed before he could stop it. You looked so perfectly poised and professional with your microphone raised, camera ready. But all Hinata could focus on was the elegant line of your jaw, the flushed hue across your cheeks, and the way your lips seemed to glisten invitingly.

Swallowing hard, he wrestled to regain his composure as you launched into the standard post-game questions about his performance. Hinata responded automatically while his gaze drifted lower, hungrily taking in the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage exposed by your blouse's neckline.

Get it together! He gave himself a mental shake, panic rising at his inability to tear his eyes away from your body. This was just a damn interview - he'd done hundreds, for god's sake! So why was he reacting like a hormonal teenager catching his first glimpse of undressed skin?

Maybe it was the way your skirt caressed the gentle swell of your hips as you shifted...or the soft, floral scent of your perfume that seemed to wrap around his senses in the most maddening way...

Inhaling deeply, Hinata dragged his wandering focus back to your lovely face, only to feel his attention immediately ensnared by your lips. They looked so incredibly soft and inviting as you spoke, he could barely track the meaning of your questions.

Without realizing it, Hinata found himself slowly drifting closer, drawn to you by some inexplicable gravitational pull. By the time your brows knit in confusion at his distracted responses, he was near enough to see the slight iridescent shimmer of your lip gloss...near enough to catch the lightest whisper of your shampoo's fragrance...

Fuck, get a grip! Hinata cursed inwardly, finally registering the wildly inappropriate hunger blazing through him like a fever. This was meant to be a professional interview, not his own personal peepshow!

And yet, he found himself utterly powerless to pull away from your enticing presence. His gaze flicked down to the gentle swell of your chest again as you inhaled, and he swore he could detect the barest hint of cleavage peeking from beneath the fabric.

"Is...everything alright, Hinata-san?" you asked with a small frown, no doubt perplexed by the dark look of unveiled yearning that had overcome his features.

Hinata's tongue instinctively swiped across his suddenly dry lips as his eyes locked on yours once more. Every fiber of his being screamed to close what little distance remained between your bodies and capture those perfect lips with his own. To satiate this maddening, inexplicable thirst you had instantly awakened within him.

But somehow, some small shred of self-restraint stopped the words from spilling out.

"Perfect," he husked instead, the gravelly timbre of his voice dripping with the undisguised want smoldering in his eyes. "Everything is...perfect."

After that first unsettling interview, you found yourself assigned to cover Hinata with increasing frequency. His star power was rapidly rising, and your segments with him always drew impressive views and engagement.

But each time you sat down with him, the charged tension seemed to ratchet higher.

During one post-game interview, Hinata casually rested his hand over yours on the microphone, his calloused fingers stroking your skin as he leaned in close to answer.

"That last set was a real nail-biter," he murmured, his intense gaze never leaving your face. "I love keeping the crowd on the edge of their seats, never knowing what I'll do next..."

You had to fight down a shiver at the double meaning layered beneath his words. Hinata's eyes sparked with mischief, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

Another time, as you wrapped up a courtside interview, Hinata unexpectedly pulled you into a quick hug. The gesture would look friendly and spontaneous to any onlookers...

But as he drew you against his chest, you felt his hand dip low to squeeze your ass, lightning-quick but unmistakable. Your gasp was muffled against his shoulder before he released you with a cheeky grin.

"Thanks for the great interview," he chirped brightly, as if he hadn't just groped you in front of thousands. "Always a pleasure!"

Then there was the interview after his Sports Illustrated cover was announced. Hinata kept you close as you spoke, his arm slung casually across your shoulders in a gesture that skirted the line of professionalism.

"It's such an honor," he said earnestly. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my biggest fans."

At that, his hand drifted down to toy with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands around his fingers in an unmistakably possessive gesture. To any viewers, it would look like an absent fidget.

But the heat in Hinata's gaze as it locked with yours made it clear - he was staking a subtle claim, right there on live television. You had to fight to keep your composure, even as your skin tingled beneath his touch.

As the months passed, Hinata grew bolder and bolder in his flirtations, always toeing the line while maintaining plausible deniability. Lingering touches, weighted words, heated stares that felt almost tangible in their intensity...

It was a dangerous game you were playing, trapped under the watchful eyes of the cameras. And part of you wondered how far Hinata would push before the tension finally snapped.

After a grueling five-set match, you found yourself waiting outside the locker room to snag a final quote from Hinata. The hallway was deserted, the rest of the press having already dispersed to make their deadlines.

You leaned against the wall, reviewing your notes, when the door suddenly swung open. Hinata emerged, his hair damp from the shower and his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped short when he spotted you, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Well, well," he murmured, sauntering closer. "If it isn't my favorite reporter. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You straightened, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped at his proximity. "Just hoping to get a quick quote about that final spike. It was a pretty spectacular finish."

Hinata hummed, stepping fully into your personal space until your back hit the wall. "Is that so?" he mused, bracing a hand beside your head. "And here I thought maybe you just wanted to get me alone."

Your breath caught at the blatant suggestion, your eyes widening. "I...no, that's not-"

"Not what?" Hinata interrupted, his voice dropping to a low rasp. "Not incredibly tempting? Because I've got to say..."

His free hand came up to toy with the press badge dangling from your neck, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin above your collar.

"...the thought of getting you all to myself, away from the cameras? It's been driving me crazy for months."

You swallowed hard, your head swimming with his intoxicating nearness. This close, you could see the flecks of gold in his warm brown eyes, could count each individual eyelash framing his heated gaze.

"Hinata-san," you managed weakly, "we can't. I'm supposed to be interviewing you."

His lips quirked up in a wicked grin. "Then interview me," he purred, ducking his head until his mouth hovered a hair's breadth from your own. "Ask me how badly I've wanted to taste your lips. Ask me how many times I've imagined peeling that prim little skirt off you and finding out what you're wearing underneath. Ask me how often I've had to jerk off in the shower, thinking about your mouth on my cock..."

A shaky exhale escaped you, and Hinata's eyes darkened with triumph. He knew he had you cornered, in every sense of the word. His body caged you in, his breath fanning across your parted lips in a maddening caress.

"You have no idea," he rasped, his nose brushing yours in a ghosting almost-touch, "how crazy you make me. How hard it's been to keep my hands to myself every time we're together."

To punctuate his point, his hand released your badge to trail slowly down your arm, calluses catching on your sleek skin and igniting sparks in their wake. Your breathing grew ragged as his fingers skimmed across your hip, circling to the small of your back.

Then he was hauling you flush against him, the hard planes of his body searing into your softer curves. A needy sound caught in your throat at the feel of him, firm and unyielding, against your frame.

"Hinata-san," you gasped, but whatever protest you'd intended died on your lips as he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes blazing with raw hunger.

"Tell me you want me," he commanded roughly, his voice gravelly with desire. "Tell me I'm not the only one losing my mind with how badly I need you."

You trembled in his hold, your heart hammering against your ribs as his words seemed to brand themselves into your skin. Every nerve ending felt electrified, raw and oversensitized where his body pressed against your own.

But even as your very soul cried out to give in, to surrender to the magnetic pull of him, your rational mind clung to the tattered shreds of reason.

"Hinata, we...we can't," you managed, your voice thin and thready to your own ears. "This is...it's not right."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the taut skin, but he didn't release you. If anything, his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh possessively.

"Not right?" he echoed, a humorless laugh escaping him. "God, if you only knew how many nights I've laid awake, fantasizing about all the 'not right' things I want to do to you..."

His head dipped, his nose skimming along the column of your throat in a barely-there touch that had you shivering. You swore you could feel the heat of his lips hovering just above your racing pulse.

"I could take you right here," he rasped against your skin, his breath searing you like a brand. "Against this wall, until you're shaking and begging for me. Would you like that?"

A broken whimper escaped your lips, and you felt them curve in a wicked smile. "Yeah, you would," he purred darkly. "I bet you'd fall apart so sweetly on my cock, squeezing me like a vice as you come..."

Your head thumped back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as his filthy words painted vivid pictures in your mind. It would be so easy to give in, to let him strip you bare and take you apart until you forgot your own name.

But the tattered remnants of your professionalism, already strained to the breaking point, wouldn't allow it.

"I can't," you whispered brokenly, hands fisting in his shirt as if to hold him at bay...or pull him closer, you weren't even sure anymore. "We can't do this, Hinata-san. Not...not like this."

For a long, endless moment, he remained motionless against you. You could practically hear the war raging within him, the primal need to claim you battling against the yoke of propriety.

Then, with a low, frustrated growl, he released you, stepping back just enough to sever the contact between your bodies. The sudden absence of his searing heat left you feeling bereft, unmoored, but you didn't dare reach for him again.

"This isn't over," he bit out, his tone dark with promise as his heated gaze raked over you. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have you. And when I do..."

He leaned in, his lips a hairsbreadth from your ear. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll be mine, completely and utterly. Don't ever doubt that."

With those words searing into your very bones, he grabbed your jaw in a rough grip, capturing your lips in a hard, bruising kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming, conquering, and you were powerless to stop the whimper of need that fell from your lips.

Then he was gone. Turning on his heel and stalking away, leaving you weak-kneed and trembling in his wake. As you watched his broad shoulders disappear around the corner, one thing crystallized in your mind with startling certainty.

Hinata Shoyo was a man who worked hard to get what he wanted. And god help you, he wanted you.

The studio lights bore down on you as you sat beside Hinata, the camera crew adjusting the final settings before your joint interview. It was a big opportunity, a chance to discuss his recent accomplishments with a major sports network.

But all you could focus on was the heat of Hinata's thigh pressed against your own beneath the news desk.

"Thirty seconds!" the producer called out. You straightened your notes with hands that trembled imperceptibly, hyperaware of Hinata's solid presence mere inches away.

As the crew did their final checks, you felt a feather-light touch against your knee. Your breath hitched, gaze flying to Hinata's face, but he was staring straight ahead with an expression of perfect nonchalance.

Then his hand slid higher, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You barely suppressed a gasp, your entire body going rigid as he began to trace idle patterns against your flesh.

"Ten seconds!"

Hinata's touch grew bolder, his palm flattening against your thigh as it crept upward at a maddeningly slow pace. When his fingertips brushed the hem of your skirt, toying with the edge in a teasing caress, you thought you might combust on the spot.

"5, 4, 3, 2..."

You pasted on a bright smile as the camera light flashed red, signaling you were live. But even as you launched into your practiced introduction, you could feel Hinata's hand continuing its torturous exploration beneath the desk.

His fingers danced along the edge of your skirt, occasionally dipping just beneath the fabric to graze the lace edge of your panties. Each touch sent sparks of heat crackling through your veins, your focus splintering as you strained to maintain your composure.

Beside you, Hinata answered the questions smoothly, flashing his signature megawatt smile at the camera. But the hand on your thigh never ceased its maddening ministrations, slipping higher and higher until he was tracing the crease where your thigh met your hip.

You clenched your teeth as a shudder tried to rip through you, your hands white-knuckled. God, how were you supposed to concentrate with him touching you like this, live on national television?

But Hinata seemed utterly unaffected, bantering easily with the hosts even as his fingers crept to the apex of your thighs. When he boldly cupped your clothed pussy, barely stifling a groan at the damp heat he found there, you nearly bit through your lip trying to hold back a whimper.

"...wouldn't you agree?" the other host suddenly asked, turning to you with an expectant smile. Your heart lurched into your throat as you scrambled to recall what the question had even been.

"I...yes, absolutely," you managed, hoping your voice didn't sound as strained as it felt. "Hinata has certainly been a driving force behind the team's success this season."

Hinata's fingers pressed harder against your clit, the sudden friction nearly buckling your spine, and you had to disguise your choked gasp as a cough. Somehow, you maintained the semblance of poise, nodding as the host turned his attention back to the ace.

But beneath the table, the fingers between your thighs were a maddening pressure. He traced along the edge of your panties, then dipped below the lace to slide a thick digit along your folds.

"Shit," you breathed, barely above a whisper. You hoped the sound wouldn't pick up on camera.

Hinata smirked at you from the corner of his eye, clearly enjoying watching you come apart at his hand. With an agonizingly slow motion, he circled your entrance, spreading your slick wetness as you struggled not to squirm in your seat.

"Well, I couldn't do it without the support of my fans," Hinata interjected smoothly, shooting you a sly wink. "Especially my biggest fan right here."

You felt your cheeks flood with heat at the blatant innuendo, praying the camera would attribute your blush to the flattery. If only they knew just what Hinata was doing to you beneath the professional veneer...

The interview wrapped up shortly after, much to your relief. You maintained your smile as the hosts signed off, barely suppressing a shudder when Hinata gave your sensitive flesh a final, teasing squeeze before withdrawing his hand.

The second the camera light flicked off, you were shooting to your feet, your breath coming in shallow pants. Hinata rose more slowly, a knowing smirk playing about his lips as his dark eyes dragged over your disheveled form.

Heart pounding, you hurried into the dressing room, desperate to compose yourself after Hinata's bold touches during the interview. Your skin felt electrified, every nerve ending buzzing with barely suppressed need.

You braced your hands against the vanity, trying to slow your breathing. But then the click of the lock sounded behind you, and your pulse jumped into overdrive.

"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" Hinata's voice was a low, dark rasp that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

You met his gaze in the mirror, your breath hitching at the raw, undisguised hunger burning in his eyes. He stalked towards you with predatory intent, his movements fluid and purposeful.

"Hinata," you managed weakly, your voice thin and thready. "We can't...not here..."

But he was already crowding into your space, his chest pressing against your back as his hands settled on your hips, firm and possessive.

"I can't wait anymore," he rasped, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. "I've held back for so long, but god, the way you respond to my touch..." His nose skimmed the column of your throat, making you shudder. "I need to feel you come apart for me."

Your eyes fluttered shut, a broken whimper escaping your lips. Every logical reason you shouldn't allow this, every professional boundary, seemed to evaporate like mist under the searing heat of his desire.

"Please," you whispered, the single word dripping with longing.

Hinata's hands tightened on your hips, a low groan rumbling through his chest. "Fuck, the things you do to me..."

Then his mouth was on your neck, your jaw, claiming each inch of skin with bruising intensity. One hand slid up your body to palm your breast through your blouse, calluses scraping your sensitive nipple and making you arch with a gasp.

"I'm going to take you apart," Hinata bit out against your skin, his voice tight with barely restrained need. "Gonna make you cum so hard you forget everything but my name."

Your head fell back against his shoulder, a moan spilling from your lips. You knew there would be no coming back from this, no way to pretend it never happened. But as Hinata turned you in his arms, his mouth slanting over yours in a searing kiss, you found you didn't care.

All you wanted was him.

Hinata hoisted you onto the vanity, his palms blazing a trail up the bare skin of your thighs as his tongue delved deeper. Your hands fisted in his hair, tugging hard enough to earn a groan of approval, and a wave of dizzying power flooded your senses.

He yanked your panties down your legs with such urgency, you swore you heard the lace tear. But before you could process, his hands were urging your thighs apart and his fingers were slipping through your soaked folds.

"So wet," he groaned, his fingers sinking into your heat and eliciting a sharp cry. "Is this all for me, baby?"

You whimpered a strangled affirmation, grinding desperately against his hand as he curled his fingers inside you. Your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, struggling to find purchase against the hard planes of muscle as he pumped his digits in a torturous rhythm.

"Shoyo," you whined, the plea falling from your lips without a second thought.

He growled, his eyes flashing dangerously at the use of his first name. His thumb flicked over your clit, drawing a strangled gasp from your throat, and you writhed beneath his touch.

"Say it again," he ordered, his free hand snaking up to fist in your hair and drag your gaze to his. The molten fire of his stare set your very soul alight.

"Please," you begged, no longer caring how wanton and desperate you sounded. "Shoyo, please!"

Hinata's teeth flashed in a wicked grin. Then his fingers were gone, and before you could mourn their absence, his head was dipping between your thighs.

The first swipe of his tongue had your spine bowing, a cry ripping from your throat. His grip on your hips was almost bruising as he feasted on your cunt, his tongue and lips and teeth working you into a frenzy. Your thighs clenched around his head, the heels of your stilettos digging into his broad shoulders. Pleasure crashed over you like waves, threatening to drown you, and still you couldn't get enough.

"Fuck, I could eat this sweet little pussy all day," Hinata groaned, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. "So fucking good."

His tongue speared into your core, and you shattered. The climax tore through you with the force of a freight train, your entire body convulsing with the intensity of it.

Your vision whited out, and for a moment, the only thing tethering you to earth was Hinata's hands. His tongue continued to work you through your orgasm, wringing every last drop of pleasure until you were shaking with overstimulation.

When the world finally came back into focus, you blinked blearily down at him. A fresh wave of heat washed through you as you took in the sight of him, lips glistening and pupils blown wide with desire.

"So pretty," he husked, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth in a gesture that should not have been so damn attractive.

But then he was hauling you closer to the edge of the vanity, and suddenly you were acutely aware of the hard length straining against the zipper of his dress pants. Your fingers itched to free him, to feel his bare cock heavy and thick in your hand.

Before you could act on the impulse, Hinata was shoving his pants down, his dick bobbing proudly against his stomach. You felt a fresh wave of wetness flood your core at the sight, anticipation and hunger thrumming in your veins.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped, the head of his cock teasing through your folds. You keened, your hips jerking up as you struggled to find the words.

"You," you managed, the desperation in your voice clear even to your own ears. "Shoyo, please..."

A groan ripped from his chest, the sound so feral, so animalistic, it should have frightened you. But instead, it sparked a fire low in your belly, a primal need to feel him buried deep inside you.

You kicked your heels off right as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide and pinning them back against your chest. He notched the thick head of his cock against your dripping cunt, and then he was plunging into you.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, your hands scrambling for purchase against the vanity. God, the stretch was nearly overwhelming, but you were too far gone to care. Your walls clenched around him, your hips rising to meet his frantic thrusts.

"So tight," he bit out, his pace punishing as he pounded into you. "Shit, I'm not gonna last, baby. You feel too fucking good."

A sob fell from your lips, the pleasure bordering on painful as he drilled into you. The vanity slammed into the wall with each rough thrust, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about the racket. Not when you were so close to falling apart, his cock filling you so completely.

One hand left your thigh to rub furiously at your clit, the additional stimulation sending stars bursting behind your eyelids. Your cries grew louder, more urgent, and you distantly registered the possibility of someone overhearing. But the thought was gone as quickly as it appeared, lost in the haze of pleasure.

"Look at me," Hinata demanded, his voice rough with command. Your eyes snapped to his, and you nearly came on the spot at the unbridled hunger blazing in his dark gaze.

"You're mine," he rasped, the hand on your hip moving to squeeze your jaw. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"Yours," you gasped, the words a choked sob. "All yours, Shoyo!"

Hinata released your chin, his fingers returning to toy with your clit as he pounded into you. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pressure building in your core until you were sure it would snap.

"Cum for me," he growled, his gaze locked with yours. "Wanna feel you fall apart around my cock."

Then his thumb and forefinger pinched your clit, and you shattered. White-hot pleasure ripped through your body, the shockwave sending aftershocks cascading through your limbs. Your walls clenched around him, the spasms almost violent as you squirted around his length.

"Holy fuck," Hinata groaned, his rhythm faltering as his own climax crested. He managed a handful of wild thrusts, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you, coating your walls with his release.

He collapsed forward, bracing his forearms against the vanity. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, both of you gasping for air as you slowly drifted back down from the high.

Despite the fact that the vanity was now sticky with your combined releases, Hinata made no move to extricate himself from you. Instead, he nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses to your flushed skin. His cock was surprisinglystill hard, the weight of him a grounding presence within you.

"Baby," he said after a moment, his lips quirking up in a smile against your collarbone, "think maybe I can convince you to leave work early today?"

A laugh bubbled up your throat, the joyful sound bright in the quiet room. "Why? So we can go home and continue this?"

"Mm, something like that," Hinata hummed, his grin widening. "And then you can help me celebrate my new Sports Illustrated cover by posing for me, naked, while I fuck you against every surface in my apartment."

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

[just-aake]

Marry Me? Part 2

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary : Different times Natasha asks you to marry her, now if only you would believe that she was actually serious.

Part 1 | Love in Red

Warnings : fluff, light angst, hints of sexual themes

Words : 1455

“Marry me?”

Your feet stumble on the treadmill, startled by Natasha’s unexpected question.

It has been a few days since the doctors discharged you from the medical bay, and now that you’re feeling better, you decided to do some training to regain your strength.

Recovering your composure, you turn off the machine, slowing to a stop before looking to where Natasha was previously training against the punching bag. 

You had offered to hold the bag for her earlier, but she quickly declined and directed you towards the treadmill for a lighter training session instead, citing your still recovering condition.

At the sight of her in her black tank top with a sheen of sweat on her body, you go to take a drink for your suddenly dry throat and stall your response as you try to understand what she meant. 

“Oh, I get it. Is this because of what I said before, during the mission?” 

You remember how you had lightly hit Natasha’s hand and remarked about it during your last moments of consciousness, referencing her previous statement to you when you had uttered those two words to her before.

“Don’t worry about that, Natasha. I know you were just kidding.”

Giving her your usual convincing smile, you begin to gather your things, feeling a little worn out from the training and the painful reminder of the type of relationship you have with her.

You turn towards the exit with a small wave.

“I think I’m going to stop for today. I’ll see you later.”

With your back to her, you miss the way Natasha’s shoulders slump and her hands fall to her sides as she stares at your retreating back in disbelief.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Marry me?” 

You let out a slight chuckle in between the bites you are taking.

“Hey, that's my line,” you say jokingly with a slight bittersweet tone, oblivious to the soft look Natasha is giving you.

Your focus is currently on the array of dishes in front of you. The candles and flowers at the center of the table bring a warm and pleasant atmosphere to the dimly lit space around you.

A hand wipes at the corner of your lips with a napkin and offers you a glass of wine, and you take it gratefully, turning to face the redhead.

“Seriously, Natasha, you didn’t have to do all of this and make all of my favorites. It’s not like we’re celebrating anything.”

Natasha shakes her head slightly and lets out a huff of disbelief, but still, her lips quirk up into a fond smile as she listens to you talk about your day.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Marry me?”

The words were whispered so softly against your bare shoulder that you almost missed it, distracted by the gentle kisses that followed.

After the time she just spent making you scream her name, your mind is too blissfully dazed to process anything, much less what she just said to you. 

A brief moment of serene silence follows before you suddenly feel her hand move from innocently caressing your hips down across your stomach towards where you know she intends to begin another round.

You tap her lightly in exhaustion, letting her know that you don’t think you can keep going. For some reason, Natasha has been insatiable this night, bringing you to the point of pleasure so many times that you’ve lost track.

Understanding your action, Natasha returns her arm to wrap around you instead, pulling you close to her in a warm embrace.

This feels different. 

That was the last thought you had before you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

When you wake up, you are surprised to see Natasha still beside you, instead of the usual empty space, and of course, she is already awake. Her head rests on her hand as she watches you slowly blink yourself awake and give her a confused look.  

“Don’t you have to get to your morning run?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“I’d rather stay here with you.” 

Your heart warms slightly at her words, but you quickly brush off the feeling, knowing better than to get your hopes up. Defaulting to your usual methods of coping during these kinds of situations, you tuck your face against the crook of her neck to hide your expression as you joke against her skin.

“Last night was that good, huh?”

You don’t see Natasha roll her eyes fondly at your teasing or throw her head back with a silent sigh, but you do feel her tighten her arms around you and place a soft kiss on your head.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Marry me?”

Earlier, you received a sudden request for you to join her on the rooftop of the Avengers Compound.

That’s how you found yourself at this point, standing with Natasha under the night sky as she says those two words to you again.

Well, you are standing.

Natasha is on the ground in front of you.

On one knee.

With an elegant little box in her hands.

“Y/n, I’m serious,” she says genuinely.

Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes shift back and forth between Natasha’s earnest face and the beautifully crafted ring in her hand.

Behind you, by the rooftop doorway, you can hear the whispers of the other Avengers watching.

“I think Nat broke her,” Clint says.

“Shush, just give her a minute to respond,” Wanda whispers.

“You know, in Asgard, one must battle other suitors and show their strength before they can propose,” Thor points out.

“I told her. She should have just used my drones,” Tony remarks. 

“This is a private moment. Everybody, leave. Now,” Steve orders firmly, shutting the cracked opening of the door.

Hearing their words and now understanding what is happening, you return your attention to Natasha who is now rubbing her head exasperatedly at their behavior.

Shaking her head, Natasha bites her lips nervously before releasing a shaky breath and meeting your eyes.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to be with. I’ve put you in situations that have not been fair to you. But despite all of that, you still stayed by my side, and in return, I kept you at a distance.” 

Your arms instinctively wrap around yourself in comfort at the thoughts of all the times you've felt hurt, patiently waiting for her.

Natasha's hand moves slightly as if she were about to reach for you, but she holds herself back, giving you a sad expression.

“I don’t have a good track record with those who stay around me. They get hurt, always do,” Natasha admits, her eyes drifting down to where the bullet had pierced you. Her lips twist regretfully, “I can’t promise that you will have a safe life with me. And honestly, you deserve better.”

She meets your eyes again with a small, hopeful smile, her own gaze reflecting her vulnerability.

“But one thing I can do is promise that I will do everything I can to give you the happiness you deserve. I want to be with you, Y/n…if you’re still willing to have me?”

With those final words, Natasha waits with a bated breath for your response. You observe her carefully.

The wind blows her auburn hair softly behind her while the rooftop lights cast her face in a scarlet glow, and her ruby lips are caught between her teeth in anticipation.

You can't help but think you were right before.

Red is a beautiful shade of color on her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Hey, Natasha…” you call for her attention among the joyous voices of your friends celebrating.

She turns her head to you, just as you put some of the wedding cake frosting on her cheek.

“…you have something on your face,” you say teasingly.

Natasha raises an unamused brow at you, but you spot the glint of fondness and love in her eyes. 

As she goes to wipe it off, you catch her hand, stopping her, and lean in to kiss the frosting from her cheek.

Before you can pull away too far, Natasha takes your chin in her hand and presses her lips to yours. 

With your small gasp of surprise, she deepens the kiss, entering your mouth to taste the frosting that you had just removed from her.

Sounds of cheer from everyone erupt around the two of you, and Natasha pulls away with a small smirk at your flushed expression.

Wrapping your arms around her to hold her close, you brush your lips lightly against her again before deciding to ask her one last time.

“Marry me?” 

Natasha’s grin widens happily, leaning in closer to whisper her response proudly against you. 

“I finally did.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading!

[melkyt]

3D2Y Where Law wants nothing more then to stay with Luffy but knows he has no reason too, until he is given one.

Luffy trains every day, he is determined to get stronger, to protect his friends no matter what. Taking out the pain of Ace's death on something he can control.

Law sees his determination and feels as though he is wasting time by just sitting there. He needs to do something. He needs to leave. Only Luffy's presence that he has gotten so accustomed to is making him hesitate. He has not been this comfortable with anyone outside his crew in a long time. The warmth of an enthusiastic hug. The feeling of Luffy's curls brushing over his cheeks as he towers over Law from behind, calloused hand resting on his shoulders.

Luffy taking the time in the few minutes Rayleigh gives him a break to always track down Law and check on him, even if his training is on the other side of the island. This only makes it harder to leave.

Law sighs as he watches Luffy leave for the next round. It's almost lunchtime, if Luffy doesn't fail in today's exercise, he will drag Law to have some food. It will only make Law come up with more reasons to stay another day. He gets up before he starts thinking about those reasons. "Time to go, kikoku"

It seems to vibrate as it senses that they will be back to drawing blood soon. The pain that comes with her curse thrums under his skin, a familiar dull ache that reminds him of his goals. That pain always helps remind him that he is still alive and has to keep going.

"Leaving now is foolish, Trafalgar Law."

Shakky, the previous queen of Amazon Lily. The one who made their safety and Luffy's training possible taps her cigarette, sending ashes dropping down into the sand.

"I have wasted enough time here," he rests Kikoku on his back. "I have a goal that can't wait."

"Strawhat will leave you behind"

Law tenses. He knows that she means in terms of power. That once this training is done, he will be a force most can't defeat. Law never cared about that. What made him tense is that Luffy would leave him behind as a person, that he would never feel his warm touch ever again.

Shakky smirks, immediately more interested in his reactions, glancing over at her husband instructing the boy. She remembers when Rayleigh first came to train on Amazon Lily's adjacent islands as a young man. She looked at him much the same way as Law is looking at Luffy now. "Do you have a plan?" Shakky takes a puff of her thin pipe. "How much do you know about the web of Doflamingo's influence?"

Law bites his bottom lip. He never told anyone his goal. Her information network could rival Doffy's. With the family's love for codenames. Law avoided anyone discovering his past. Yet here she is, knowing seemingly everything with that confident look in her eyes that hints at decades of experience beyond what Law can even fathom.

"Stay, train with the boy." Shakky nods towards Luffy, who is sprawled out on the ground, trying to catch his breath before the next attack that will come too soon. "It will only help you"

Law can't deny she is right. Training with the generation that once achieved everything they strived for will only make them stronger, but Law is a doctor first. That is how his power works. The skills that Rayleigh can teach him are not what he needs.

Shakky senses his hesitation. "The Kuja have a history of medicine, poison, and poultice that can kill or paralyze a man." She can see that is enough to catch his attention. "Thousands of texts in the studies of blood and the mortal body." She takes a step closer, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "They do not allow men, but I could make an exception for you, kid."

Law takes a deep breath. This is access to texts he has never read. It could even have info on his fruit. The discoveries he could make would easily upgrade his power. If he refuses, he will not get another chance. Yet it also means he is wasting two years of his life, the time he could be using to go after Doflamingo. His thirst for knowledge wins out as it does every time. "Fine, I'll stay" he sighs, hoping that he will not regret those words.

"Really?!" Luffy jumps up from his sprawled position. "Traffy, that's great --- ow!"

"Great use of observation haki," Rayleigh chuckles, tapping the stick on his shoulders. "Next time, use it on not getting hit"

"Didn't have to hit me that hard," Luffy rubs at the sore spot. He turns back towards Law with a wide grin. "Let's train really hard together, Traffy! Shishishi"

Law feels a blush on his cheeks. He can't deny that a large part of him is staying for Luffy and the hope of seeing that smile every day for the next two years

-end-

Aka how Law goes from a skinny little gremlin that has never had a good meal ever to getting enough to bulk from just being near Luffy who shares everything he hunts with Law while he has his nose in a book 24/7 and slowly they fall in love with each other in new domestic ways.

Shakky and Rayleigh gossip about the young love that is blooming before their eyes as they train their respective boi xd

[86-babyy]

Insatiable.

Part Two for Undeniable.

Thank you for the overwhelming love and support on my previous fiction. You all had me absolutely gushing and I hope the follow on pleases just as much as the first. Enjoy babes! 😘

Warnings- Fingering. Teasing (oh, so much teasing.) Slight primal Eddie. Hair pulling. PIV unprotected. Hint of masturbation (Eddie.) Breast play, nipple sucking. It’s just full of smutty goodness. Let me know if I missed anything.

The mist coats your skin like dew when you step into the shower, streams of hot water seem to calm your exposed nerves and it’s absolute bliss. The gentle hum rebounds from the walls around you, builds a safe space of heat and water, settles deep in your bones.

Warm hands encase your waist, pull you in, pull you closer.

Eddie’s weight bares around you like a thick blanket, suds of wood and vanilla fill your senses, bubbles gather in the creases of your skin, lather like foamy white of the ocean waves. The cloth glides across your stomach, Eddie’s latter hand follows, leaves tracks in the soap as he washes you.

“This is new.”

The flick to the jewellery on your stomach catches your attention, the small pendant glistens under the cascade and you feel Eddie smile into the nook of your shoulder from behind.

“I thought it was cute.”

“Oh, it is very cute.”

Eddie smooths the cloth over your chest, let’s the soapy suds lather the mounds of your breasts, admires the resistance against your hardening nipples before slipping the cloth between your thighs. The water feels like silk as it falls over your body, the touch washing the most intimate parts when he creates a tender sensation, drawing the cloth over your pussy, gentle and soft.

He drops the cloth, it lands with a sloppy thud against the tiles at your feet, the material quickly replaced with fingers. It’s smooth and delicate, the water creating the perfect slip of assistance as Eddie dips two finger’s between your lips, spreads them softly. Eddie’s arm pulls you closer, resting the palm on the soft of your stomach.

Pads of his fingertips graze your clit, the motion is so feather light that it tingles, sends a new wave of warmth to radiate through, mix with the steam and settle in the core of your stomach. You relax against Eddie, it feels likes you mesh when he gains pressure, his frame moulds around yours, fills the contours and keeps you steady. Your head buries in the dip of his neck, the musty oak aroma seeps into your senses, washes away with the cascade of water and Eddie’s fingers slipping inside you. It’s calculated movements and precise precision, it’s unbearably slow and drawn out, it teases every nerve inside— leaves you whimpering in the humid air and mixed heavy breaths.

Eddie’s tongue dances across the sparse of your neck, twirling and sucking the skin between teeth. Your whole body ignites, washing away with the stream of water when you bare down on Eddie’s fingers, your orgasm rippling in waves.

The following morning is complete chaos. You had managed to overfill your coffee, twice. The static radiates in the air, buzzing in a unbearable high pitch, your own body unforgiving in releasing last nights antics.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little unstable this morning.”

Your Dad perks up over his mug, back resting opposite the counter from you.

“Yeah, just you know, one of those mornings. How did work go?”

“Actually, I think it worked out. The team is back to basics, I don’t think there should be any more interference.”

You watch his shoulders slump, like the words themselves ease the weight. Last nights efforts wear on his face, his eyes dark in tint, body drawn and tired. The pinch of guilt bubbles in your stomach, makes it coil in a silent reminder and the bitter taste doesn’t wash away with your sip of coffee, like you had hoped.

“That’s amazing, Dad. So less late nights then?”

“Not quite.” He mumbles around the rim of his mug, let’s the steam warm the apples of his cheeks momentarily. “At least until the end of this week. Then it should go back to normal.”

You went to reply, broad your smile and actively show your excitement but when Eddie had rounded the corner, your whole mind blacked out.

It was like someone had come up and kicked your feet from under you, your chest filled with violent butterflies, hoards of them banging against the cage of your ribs— Making your heart stutter.

Eddie in all his fucking glory rounded the corner. His body’s dripping in jewellery from the chains around his neck to the one clung to his hip. The ripped Judas Priest shirt did everything for his arms. Toned muscle peeked through the torn fabric, trails of tattoos out and on full display, pictures and words seemingly springing to life across his skin. Thighs, wrung in the tightest jeans you had ever fucking saw. The material divots in the definition, follows the contours and hugs all the best features. Rips and slashes torn across his thighs and knees and at this point, you’re even questioning if he is dressed at all. It’s a glorious fucking sight when the gleam of morning hues catches the rings adorned his hand, chunky silver braided across his knuckles, the slight protrusion of veins snake up his hand and dear fucking god.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

Your Dad lunges forwards, his own mug discarded when he reaches for your own, that had seemingly slipped from your grasp.

Hands engulf the porcelain, catches it before it collided with the floor, shattered into pieces.

To bad you couldn’t say the same about your sanity.

“Yeah, uh, sorry.”

Your eyes advert anywhere but at him. Your mind reels in double time trying to look distracted, look busy. But it’s inevitable hopeless, you find yourself looking more on edge than intended so you settle with playing with the strings of your pyjama pants instead.

Your Dad gazes you with a look of concern, it’s evidently genuine but offers a look of question and you simply shake your head and smile, watch as he turns and starts to wash the mug and remains of breakfast behind you.

“I don’t start work until 8, I was thinking about heading down town, what do you say?”

Your dad doesn’t look up but you do.

Eddie’s hair is dripping. Locked curls sopping in the watery residue, skin dewy and soft. The reels flip images of oak and vanilla, of bubbles and soap, wet fingers and gentle touch— Has your tongue slick with saliva from the memory.

“Yeah man, count me in.”

Eddie replies, opens his mouth and speaks but his eyes are solid, locked intently on yours.

“There’s a record store just opened up. I haven’t ventured far in yet but the outside looks promising.”

The voice echos behind you, incoherent noise like static. Eddie reaches the counter, bends at the waist and uses his elbows as support when he leans on the top. His chain dips in the collar of his shirt, you see the vine of inky black crawl from his chest up and over his shoulder, watch when he dips his head, winks.

“Now, you have my attention.”

It’s absolutely filthy. The drop in syllable, drawn out and slow when he talks. It’s clear as fucking day exactly who Eddie’s response was directed at, apparently not as obvious to anyone who wasn’t you because your dad picks up the conversation, carry’s on like normal.

The air is thick. It’s strung out and heavy. Full of tension that bares a straight line between you and Eddie, a invisible string that pulls, pulls so hard that you have to physically ground your feet, stop from mounting the counter top and devouring Eddie whole. His expression is quirked, his gaze steady. It’s almost possessive the way he holds the conversation, laughs when it’s needed, asks questions but his attention, his vision is evidently locked on you. He bares his teeth when he smiles, quipped and smug, his eyes follow when you shift your footing, watching, always watching. His tongue darts out, runs in slow motion when he drags it across his bottom lip. Plush and pink, coated in a sheen of saliva before he sucks it between his teeth and it’s driving you insane.

“I’m going to hop in the shower, then what do you say we head off?”

Your dad turns from his position, faces Eddie in question.

“Sounds good, big boy.”

Your dad chuckles at Eddie’s response, like it was some long running joke you didn’t quite understand and heads upstairs.

It’s humid and way to fucking hot in the kitchen, your skin prickles in attention when Eddie comes and pins you against the counter, both arms caged beside your waist. It’s so fucking hot and the air is becoming harder to swallow. It’s borrowed time at this point, it’s minutes lasting seconds when your hands gather in the front of his shirt, white bleeding into your knuckles as you pull for desperation. It’s messy. All teeth and no reason, it’s absolute wreckage the way Eddie sucks your bottom lip, tugging at the corners in a pinch as he nudges your jaw sideways, takes revenge on the pale of your throat.

“E—Eddie, you can’t.” It’s all breath no real noise. “My dad will see.”

There’s a growl against your throat, vibrates the skin underneath before a heavy hand comes and clasps over your mouth. The sting of metal burns your puffed lips, sends pain to pleasure, sends you further into exhilaration. Eddie bites, bleeds a array of colours into your skin follows with groans of satisfaction when you whimper into the palm of his hand.

Eddie frees his latter hand, trails up the curve of your waist, dips his fingers in the soft parts before slipping up and under your shirt.

“Mm, this for me?”

He cups your exposed breast, calloused fingers gaze the bare of your nipple. It’s tiny sparks that prick your nipples to erect, hardened under the excitement of touch when Eddie palms your breast, feels the weight and teases. You instinctively arch to his hand, press your chest further into his grab, desperate for the sensation, desperate for more.

Without breaking contact, Eddie dips from your neck, his hand still firmly held across your mouth as he pulls your shirt up, bunches it right up to your neck and latches onto your breast.

Your chest heaves with the lack of air mixed with the sudden motion, wet and slick, Eddie takes your nipple into his mouth. Rolls the bud across his tongue, sucks and licks like it’s a damn ice cream. He’s non bias when he moves to the other, giving just as much enthusiasm as the latter. It’s a pitiful noise that gets pulled from your throat, the overwhelming feeling of wet and heat across your chest, saliva coats your skin and your body is on fire. He’s rough and needy but takes his time, savours the feeling, the noises, the taste. And when he releases, straightens your shirt and brings his hand to the front of your pyjama pants, smiles right into your fucking soul when he tugs the strings.

Your stomach coils. Tension builds in the core and bubbles on impact, your pussy flutters at the thought and all you can do is whimper, tug his shirt, attempt to pull him closer when Eddie’s fingertips dip below the waist band.

And then it stops. Everything around you comes to a screaming holt, it’s like running into the woods along a path that ducks and weaves through overgrown trees and moss to only be stopped by a unsuspecting brick wall.

“Ain’t that a shame, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s come to rest his forehead against yours, slowly removes his hand from over your mouth. Your lips leaving a wet mark behind.

“I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Eddie steps away, takes his position back behind the counter and you are all out confused. What the fuck?

It’s just in time. Just when you were quick to open your mouth you’re just as quick to shut it up when your dad walks back in, keys in hand. You hadn’t even heard the shower stop running, hadn’t heard anything but the mixed up puddle that Eddie had left you in, completely zoned out in touch and taste to even realise.

It’s a long afternoon. Your body still tingles from this morning, electric waves burn through your bloodstream and nothing seems to dull as the hours pass. It’s absolute torture, makes you want to stand under a cold shower until your insides stop trembling.

Instead you opt to sleep it off.

It’s black. Everything is draped in darkness when your eyes suddenly jolt open. It’s baring in around you, feels like it’s seeping into your airways and you start to panic, the weight bares heavy on your chest, it’s restricting and absolutely terrifying.

“Shh, baby. It’s just me.”

Eddie’s got one knee propped on the side of your bed, he’s cautiously leaning over you. It’s hard to see, the atmosphere around still so dark, but you feel the brush of his hair against your chest, feel a sturdy hand trace the soft of your stomach.

“Jesus, Eddie. What are you doing? What time is it?”

“It’s past 6, your dad hasn’t left yet. So you got to be quiet for me, okay baby?”

You feel the contact of his mouth just above your belly button, the cool dip of wet ignites your skin as he licks trails in small circles before tugging the jewellery of your stomach piercing into his mouth.

The weight shifts, you feel the bed dip as Eddie manoeuvres himself above you, hands splay beside your head and instinctively you spread your legs, make way for eddie to slip between them. The contact is clearly evident, the strain of Eddie’s cock mounds into your pussy, the thin fabric creating the barest of barriers when Eddie ruts forward.

“Fuck.”

Eddie’s moaning right beside your ear, it mixes with the soft whimpers that spill from your mouth. Your hips meet his in the middle, your own body sourcing out the feeling as Eddie humps harder against you. The black fills with breath and pants, it’s a desperate play seeking pleasure, you both fucking up against each other, the friction all to much and not enough at the same time.

“I want you, Eddie. Please.”

It’s more begging at this point, your pussy so far teased to almost over simulation that the soaking wet mess seeping through your pyjama pants cooled the inside of your thighs.

“Yeah? How do you want me, baby. Tell me.”

Eddie’s slipped a hand under your ass, lifts your hips higher and further, pulling you closer, pressing the curve of his cock deeper against the material— feels like there’s barely anything there at all anymore.

“Ah, fuck. I—Inside me. I want you to fuck me.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Eddie brings his hand from under your ass, slips it into the side of your pants and pulls. He’s lent back on his heels, needy wasn’t the right fucking word, the way Eddie tears your clothing from your body. It was possessive, primal.

Eddie’s shifted from his own pants, bunched up fabric collects at his ankles before he settles back on the balls of his heels. It’s dark, still so fucking dark. But you follow the silhouette, trace the lines of broad shoulders and spread thighs, see the outline of his cock in his hand as he fucks up into his own palm. Sweat glistens under the little light sparing through the window, watch as his thighs twitch under the pressure, twisting and tugging at his cock, strands of hair fan in the shadow.

“Come here.”

Eddie reaches out into the mass, your hand follows, seeks and finds it immediately. Eddie tugs you into his lap, his cock slips through the lips of your pussy, nudges your clit as you feel him out.

It stings. The fresh stretch when you sink your hips onto his cock, slowly but still so fucking big. It fills you whole, has you feeling like Eddie’s cock is sitting right in your stomach. It’s shaky, the first couple of try’s. You work your hips in a pace that’s comfortable, settles the throb of pain when Eddie spreads his thighs further apart, pushes the head of his cock to meet the soft spot of your pussy. Eddie’s shoulders take your weight, you use them a leverage, when Eddie’s hands come to grip your hips, your thighs protest as you bounce on Eddie’s cock. Sickly sweet sounds of skin on skin pulse through the room, Eddie’s hips come up and meet yours when you slide back down his cock. Eddie drifts his hands, comes to rest them under your ass, encourages you further, deeper.

“Oh my god. Fuck, Eddie!”

“Shh, baby.” Eddie mounts your breast, sucks a hardened nipple into the warmth of his mouth, licks and plays with the sensation. “Your dad’s downstairs.”

You knew you should be quiet but every nerve in your body is screaming in exhilaration, the stretch and drag of Eddie’s cock with every bounce has your nails leaving permanent marks in the crescents of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Wouldn’t want your dad to hear those pretty little noises, hm?”

Eddie brings a hand to knot in the back of your hair, his knuckles twist in strains as he pulls your head forward, rests his forehead with yours.

“Don’t want him to see you riding my cock like a filthy little slut.”

It’s all whispers, dirty tainted words mixed with heavy breaths and groans. Eddie bares the words through gritted teeth, growling like instinct, at the image— has him thrusting up and fucking your harder.

“B—But you feel so good, Eddie.”

It’s absolutely pitiful, whiney, high pitched whisper that strangles it’s way from your throat, leaves you feeling desperate and fucked out.

The heat burns a trail from your toes, your stomach boils in anticipation and you know you’re so very close. Your actions become needy, bouncing and fucking Eddie’s cock for your own selfish pleasure, between slick and skin paving the perfect combination.

“You’re close baby, huh. I can feel it. Fuck me until you’re screaming baby. Come on.”

Eddie’s got a solid fucking grip on your ass, the latter twisted into the crown of your hair and he’s mercilessly fucking up into you. Eddie’s words play on repeat, rebound and come back to the start, it sends you further, has your orgasm baring down on his cock in rapid waves. You would have sworn you bit your lip so hard that you felt the trickle of blood seep from the broken skin. Your pussy contacts in spasms, you feel Eddie’s own release mix with your own as he burrows his face into the curve of your throat, sinks his cock as far as it will go into the hollow of your pussy.

It’s a sticky, wet, hot fucking mess when you peel yourself from Eddie, your legs sit like jelly, your thighs burn and your pussy throbs. Eddie cradles you in his arms, presses kisses to your temple. It’s overwhelming, the embrace, it’s soft and gentle, you wanted to stay forever but the distant voice of dinner calling from downstairs has you both scrambling for clothes.

Dinner is nice. Your dad has always been a fantastic cook and conversation is flowing all to normal. Your dad apologises once again for leaving tonight, hopes dinner will smooth the process and you have to fight to urge to tell him that the late nights aren’t as bad now.

There’s jokes and banter, causal conversation and when your dad informs you that there’s apple pie to come, Eddie pops a carrot in his mouth, smirks.

He looks directly at you.

“Can’t wait for dessert.”

[yuseirra]

Kamiki's feelings towards Ai- an analysis

Chapter 154 was so interesting and it happened just as I imagined the way it would, actually. What I can't fully predict is what'd happen AFTER this- there are so many things left undisclosed and yet to be uncovered, too. But it's allowed me to think about a lot of things.

Today I wrote up an analysis of how I feel Kamiki's character could be and his feelings towards Ai.

I'd speculated on Ai's relationship with him before this chapter was out. I was pretty much on the right track in a general sense (and another analysis on Aqua and how he feels about kana, too.)This seems like the best time to break out how I think about how kamiki would have felt about her from his end- before it's actually going to be told.

(This full post was originally written in a different language and I asked chatgpt-4 to help translate it in bulk because it got so long..! wow, and it did a really great job. I guess I'll use THAT to translate now)

The last episode made it clear how the protagonist's parents ended up the way they did and the deep emotions they had for each other, so I have quite a bit to say about that. Psychology is an area of interest for me. To put it extremely, it's everything in my creations (though it would be embarrassing if I missed the mark after saying this) to the point where I'd go, 'if I can't even do this, I'd wonder what I'm good at...' In other words, it's the area where I'm most confident... I enjoy watching, analyzing, and understanding things. It's a topic I can talk about enthusiastically and endlessly if the opportunity arises.

As I mentioned in a previous post, understanding others' emotions, whether in reality or fiction, is a tricky part to pin down definitively, so I'm always hesitant to speak rashly about it. I keep thinking, "Maybe it's this?" but because I really dislike being wrong, I don't speak strongly about it. And I think how one "feels" something is too personal a realm.

Therefore, when a story confirms things through dialogue, flashbacks, or actions, I get very excited. It’s like, "Now I can talk about it!" That's how I brought this post forth today.

Getting to the point, this manga is very well-written when it comes to emotional aspects (the emotions and the persuasiveness of the situations that evoke those emotions) of well-crafted characters. In my opinion, characters like Ai, Aqua, and Kana are quite well-developed, and other characters, even in their personal episodes or specific points, have at least a desirable level of persuasiveness as needed. In most cases, at least. Some scenes left me a lil confused time to time still, but at most, the scenes written with a clear perspective often show and evoke strong emotions, which I consider a strength of this manga. Considering the author's previous work was a romance manga... I guess someone who comes from writing romance manga is built differently! (I haven't watched Kaguya-sama though).

As for Kamiki, his past was as I expected. Looking at the small hints that were sprinkled earlier, I didn't think it would turn out much different from what was actually depicted. Realistically, a child who became the father of twins at the age of 15 (a highly unusual age by modern standards) couldn't have been so calculating and meticulous in using Ai or intentionally manipulating them to have their children, no matter how crazy he was, even if considering the manga’s verisimilitude. Ai is a smart person. She might not have received a proper education compared to the average person due to her inability to fit into the social safety net, but I think her innate intelligence was quite good... For Ai, Kamiki was someone who could maintain a good relationship with her, with her being the older out of the two, even. Being the cautious and careful person she is. Ai's would have coolly cut ties and walked away rather than being used if there was a need to. So I always thought their relationship would have been genuine at some point, at least.

And looking at his past, as expected... (even if it’s a manga, the whole situation he was in was too dreadful...) looking at his personality, he was a gentle and pure child who was tossed around a lot when he was younger. If an 11-year-old child had a relationship with an adult, the adult is absolutely not a proper human being. There’s no room for another interpretation. Even if the child said "it was okay", there’s no room for leniency. It’s nonsense. Kamiki had been sexually abused from a very young age, so it was almost impossible for him to form a proper concept about it, and he was at a resignation to the things that were happening to him... Ai was the one person who got close to him and wanted to help him escape from that situation. But since Ai was only a middle schooler, she realistically had no power to do anything drastic... Both lacked proper guardians and had a deficiency in love, so when they were fully exposed to an environment where outward attractiveness was heavily utilized, they had no means to protect themselves. The best they could do was create a mask to show others and keep convincing themselves that they were okay with it... They were drawn to each other because they shared that similarity and understood that part of each other. I liked that these two were set as peers around the same aga because, especially for young children, age difference has a significant impact on social experience and individual standing. It's better to have a similar age if they are to have an equal relationship. Adults should be with adults, and children should be with children. Their worlds are different, and even a completely insignificant adult can easily exploit and manipulate a child. I believe that relationships should be with people who share a similar perspective and have similar emotional resources to offer each other.

The scene where Ai goes to Airi and calls her just a sex offender might be exaggerated, but if we say exaggerated... it means there was some face-to-face interaction and that Ai helped Kamiki separate from Airi. Ai probably wanted to do what was depicted in the movie. In reality, you have to deal with the aftermath, and it probably didn’t go smoothly like the adult just backing off or listening to a teenager. However, Ai’s actions had some effect in helping Kamiki get away from Airi to some extent, leading to a period where they officially dated. During this time, Kamiki must have truly loved and been happy with Ai. The adults around didn’t know about the situation, and they never helped Kamiki. The one who listened, understood, and shared the troubling and dreadful situation that Kamiki had grown accustomed to for years was Ai.

For Kamiki, there was only Ai.

When Airi blackmailed and gaslit him into despair, Kamiki’s thoughts were to turn to Ai for help because there was only Ai for him. Ai was indeed everything to Kamiki, supporting and pulling him out of tough situations. Ai was like a light in his life. They already had mutual affection, so it wasn’t surprising.

Meeting someone who truly understands, accepts, and loves you is extremely precious and significant. The statement that he sincerely loved Ai is true because there was truly no one else in the world for him to love. He led a very isolated life.

I won't delve deeply into Ai’s analysis here since I covered that last time. But the statement that Ai wanted to shoulder everything together and share a future with kamiki was absoultely genuine. Then why did he leave and say such heartless things that would break Kamiki’s heart?

That'd be because having a child meant more responsibility for Kamiki, and Ai thought Kamiki couldn't handle it. So Ai decided to leave to lessen Kamiki’s burden, thinking that would be less painful for him than staying together. Ai probably felt that no matter what, Kamiki wouldn't break up with her unless she said something really harsh. Kamiki's mindset at that time, as shown in his thoughts, was that it was just the two of them against the world, and they could bear any pressure together. That feeling is understandable. So pitiable, really. Ai, however, also wasn’t someone who was very mentally healthy. I'm sure she wanted to help him, but her ways of "helping" wasn't and couldn't be so ideal because she too was only a child. Additionally, I feel Ai was quite conscious of being a year older, wanting to take care of the struggling Kamiki (Ai seems to have a maternal instinct despite not receiving such care herself). She wanted to share Kamiki’s burdens but couldn't share her own dark and difficult parts because she felt Kamiki was too fragile. So, to unburden Kamiki, she left with very harsh and definitive words, thinking Kamiki would be better off without her and their children. Hearing such harsh words, Kamiki immediately thought, "Oh... I am the problem," and understood why Ai left, hence couldn’t hold her back. Ultimately, he ended up believing that even Ai couldn’t love and accept him, which led to Kamiki’s self-deprecation, thinking he was the problem all along. After realizing she had clung to Ai, he thought, "Ai didn't love me, she was there because she just couldn't avoid me being too pure and innocent"

However, his love for Ai wouldn’t have disappeared just like that. Ai was too significant for Kamiki. He loved her to the extent that he felt he heard his whole world collapsed from the breakup.

When Kamiki was near the hospital during Ai's delivery, I don’t think he intended to harm Ai. Why would he harm the person he truly loved who was having his children? He was probably heartbroken for a while after Ai’s breakup with him and, upon hearing about Ai’s health issues on the news, worriedly searched for her until he found about the hospital she was admitted to. On the day the children were born, it could be that he couldn’t approach Ai due to him being self-conscious about Ai’s refusal. He just nervously lingered nearby, and that's when he could have encountered Ryosuke, who was stalking Ai. I might be interpreting too favorably...

When Kamiki learned that Ai was going to give birth, even though Ai had said she wouldn't, he was probably surprised but not resentful. He might have been confused and curious about why she decided to have the children, but upon seeing the newborns from afar, he likely felt overwhelmed with emotion, thinking they were his children.

Perhaps he even thought it would have been nice if they could have been a family together. Though Ai intended to show the children to Kamiki for the first time when they were around four, I suspect Kamiki had been concerned and affectionate about them even before that.

If they had kept in touch intermittently and Ai had sent pictures of the children, things might not have become so extreme. Regardless, I believe Kamiki felt affection for their children. Though Taiki was a trauma for him...

The phone call scene should be shown from Kamiki's perspective once. Having kept a distant watch over Ai and the children, he would have felt internal familiarity and gladness, thinking, "Could we meet again?" After being firmly rejected, he might have made bad decisions. It's hard to know how much of what he said regarding Ryosuke is true, but the idea that Kamiki wanted to kill Ai? If that were true, the more detailed confession (that it wasn’t intentional) would not have come out when Aqua had pushed for it. He said that he was the one that clung to her and killed her and tried to leave it at that at first. Kamiki’s willingness to accept lifelong infamy for his actions, by his own child, implies something different. What he's said after he was inquired further by Aqua seems more truthful than what was initially told. There's probably more to this because it still seems illogical and weird to some extent, but we have to remember he was okay with being perceived at being solely responsible Ai's murderer to Aqua in Ch 153, but his detailed explanations that may not have been even told tells to be a bit different from that. That means he probably feels guilty enough to blame himself entirely for what's happened.

Kamiki advising Aqua and Ruby aligns with my interpretation of his character. These actions seem sincere. Given his affection for Ai, he may feel some warmth towards their children, as he once referred to Ruby as "our" children. He's also been able to see through how Aqua is in a very accurate sense, he seems to have watched him intently. Hence, when Aqua approached him, he expressed his feelings honestly.

To Aqua, he says stuff like "you might find me detestable, but I was glad to talk like this with you", and he gives some advice to Ruby too in a pretty kind way, actually. These actions are likely genuine. It's only natural to find the children, who resemble themselves and their loved one, adorable. Just as Ai told the twins, while dying, that she was glad to have given birth to the children, I think Kamiki, even if they didn't love the children as much as they do for Ai, would at least be happy about their existence. I believe Kamiki would have kept a distant watch over them all along. It's just that he couldn't approach them. As I mentioned before, if he really is a god or possesses some powers, he, along with Ai, who's become a star, might have been supporting the children together in their own respective ways. Though the children were not born intentionally, they were still born out of love.

I got it right, didn't I? In my post about Ai, I wrote that Kamiki might have wanted to take responsibility for the children, but Ai could've had hid and left to avoid burdening him. When Kamiki heard about the pregnancy, he immediately proposed marriage, didn't he? If they had been in their early twenties, they might have really been able to get together. They might have raised the children well as a young couple, finding them quite adorable. If they had become parents at a more typical age, they wouldn't have been incapable of raising the children. In fact, Ai contacted him when the children were about four years old, and she was twenty. She couldn't reunite with Kamiki because of her thriving idol career and the potential scandal.

From Ai's perspective!! If she had hoped for and imagined raising their children together, it means she believed Kamiki would take good care of them, and she was probably right. Also, Ai's idea of happiness included this. Ai, when you look closer, was inexperienced due to her youth but still loved the children in her own way and had a maternal instinct. Talking to Ryosuke to distract him when the door chain wasn't on and he could have invaded and harmed the children was a wise choice.

Haha, speaking of that, maybe because I fell asleep thinking about this manga, I had a terrifying dream last night. I was threatened by a crazy person with a razor blade in a large shopping mall, walking with them like a hostage. I kept talking to avoid being killed, seized the blade, and ran for my life. I got in a car, thinking I was safe, but people were fleeing in panic. The person had more than one blade and started swinging it when their hostage escaped. I felt guilty. I'm so glad it was just a dream.

It's my first time having such a dream. Even though it's not real, experiencing it in a dream makes me respect Ai's response. She managed to calm and turn away Ryosuke, protecting the children. Ai is smart and thoughtful. Her ways of speech to induce not getting back together was really blunt and hurtful not not exactly the best in terms of the emotions it could bring forth, but understandable. Her character is often lacking in emotional responses but sharp in thinking. Between the two, Kamiki is the more emotional one, but Ai was more mature in their relationship. Still, Ai loved Kamiki to the point of wishing he would rely on her and wanting to be his support and that says a lot. That was her way of loving.

Back to Kamiki, what are his current feelings about Ai? He still loves her and was once(and even now) is willing to give everything for her. His feelings for Ai were genuinely deep. Even when he resigned himself to believing Ai never loved him, he was willing to be avenged by Aqua if that's what she wanted. This wasn't a lie. He wouldn't lie to his children. His parental feelings are also genuine.

But there's something more. Kamiki has something in common with Aqua. There's something vast that he carries without revealing everything. After breaking up with Ai, he might have done a lot of wrong things, but his base nature actually seems to be on the timid side, even gentle. He couldn't properly communicate with Ai when she decided to break up all of a sudden, and just let her go, indicating his mild nature. For someone like him to take extreme actions, something extreme must have happened. Ai's death would be such a trigger. If he were to act extremely, it would be related to Ai. He lived a life of being pushed around, with little attachment to himself, being saved by Ai and deeply wanting to be with her. Ai caused him pain but was also his savior. For Kamiki, Ai was his reason for living.

When I saw the lyrics of "Fatal," I immediately had a huge hunch. The psychological state reflected in the song perfectly matches Kamiki's feelings towards Ai. It's very blind and desperate, with what he's originally had twisted negatively. The narrator of the song keeps trying to give and do something, feeling it's still not enough. This song fills in the gaps in Kamiki's character that were hinted at but not explicitly described. The narrator couldn't be anyone but Kamiki.

I understood why Kamiki came to love Ai so deeply through the flashbacks. Given their backgrounds, it made sense that he would love Ai immensely. So when I heard the song and read the lyrics, I immediately felt it was right. Do you think my analysis will be way off?

It seems like Ai and Kamiki's story draws motifs from Japanese mythology. One motif comes from the gods of entertainment, Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko (in terms of abilities), and the other from the couple Izanagi and Izanami (with Amaterasu—she has something to do with Ruby-, Tsukuyomi, Susanoo—the sea god—Aqua). In the myth, Izanagi tries to bring back Izanami, who died giving birth, from the underworld but ultimately fails to revive her.

This narrative aligns with the first season's ending song "Mephisto" and the second season's opening "Fatal," which are about wanting to save someone and meet them again. So far, all efforts have been in vain, and the songs mention continuously offering something. If these songs reflect Kamiki's feelings, then Kamiki must still love Ai and desperately wish for her to come back to life. This seems very likely.

The concept of the "stage" is also mentioned in both songs. The protagonist struggles on stage, which won't let them go. They don't actually want to live that way, but their only purpose for enduring it is to reunite with their loved one. These songs seem like spoilers, hinting at future developments. Otherwise, why would such lyrics appear? It feels like there's a stage set by the gods, and the characters are trapped within it.

The first season's ending is titled "Mephisto," referring to a demon who grants wishes in exchange for one's soul.

Whether it's Aqua, Kamiki, or both, there's clearly a deal involving risking their existence or life to see Ai again. But it can't be Aqua because he was told by the Tsukuyomi girl that Ai could no longer reincarnate. Aqua's goal would be to fulfill Ai's wishes, not to meet her again. However, the songs' themes are clearly different from that. Something is up.

There are definitely suspicious gaps in Kamiki's actions, but thinking this way brings consistency to his sparse psychological reveals. One way or another, this character is obsessed with Ai, and Ai wants to help him.

When he realizes that the person he loved loved him back, he should be either sad or happy. But there's a reason for his shock (which is, also natural, but he's in utter shock). It might be that he's in a state where he cannot be saved.

When this character asked Ai for help as a child, Ai sincerely wanted to help but couldn't do enough alone. So, she wanted to help him along with their children. Comparing now to then, he might have walked into a much deeper pit on his own, for Ai's sake. Depending on the extent of what he did, he might end up still being unforgivable.. or maybe he might not have actually committed something as serious as it's been hinted and have a chance to be actually brought back to happiness But I can't envision a future where Kamiki lives happily for now. His life has been too miserable, so unfortunate.. and it's probably really messed up at this point too, so sacrificing himself for his children and following Ai might be his happy ending. Ai wants to see him, so it could be most happy if she came to take him with her. Considering the scenes shown so far, it's unclear if he deserves a happy ending. But anyhow, there's likely some special circumstance the guy's in that's going to bring a new light about his character

That's it. I had to talk about it all before the next episode comes up! If I'm wrong, well, that's that! But it was so fun analyzing him~

[that-was-a-bit-stupid-of-you]

ttpd review: thoughts (and prayers)

cuz wtf was that. (also providing my two cents that no one gives a shit about)

Is the promotion in the room with us?

Not going to lie, this part pissed me off. As a post evermore release swiftie, the first album release I got was midnights. And while the promotion for midnights wasn't astoundingly genius, the track list release (midnights mayhem with me) was smart. Everyday, there would be chaos all over social media of taylor taking out a number and releasing the track name. The excitement over YOYOK was to die for. But after reaching peak fame, girlie just decided shit wasn't necessary anymore. Absolutely no promotion for ttpd, except a few lyrics that provided no context (or excitement) whatsoever. That, and the very non subtle "hinting" of some big reveal of what went down between her and joe, by making some playlists, that not only ruined the perspective of many of her fans and the relationship they had with her previous songs, but ALSO. THE ALBUM HAD BARELY ANYTHING ABOUT JOE. (Not that i personally care about what happened, but it was so unnecessary to center the ONLY promotion done around someone who was barely a part of the album). Swifties went on the internet to harass joe alwyn (and his female coworkers) who might as well be called a special mention on a matty healy album. Why even do all that then? We will never know.

Confusion?

taylor released 31 songs, and while a double album theory coming true would be a dream come true for any swiftie, it just... wasn't. Out of 31 songs, barely 10 stood out. Some of it just didn't make sense, in any way. "Why is this on the album?" "This sounds like a midnights vault track." "No issues, maybe this is just a skip. I'll listen to the next. Oh wait nvm. Um." Like girl what. It just feels like a giant vault album of synth pop music.

Also, it's called the tortured poets department. There is barely anything poetic or tortured about the album aesthetic. Except maybe it's torturing me, but I'm as much of a poet as she is, which basically means I'm not one.

The album just feels so different than the other albums, in the sense that they followed an aesthetic, a certain style of music and lyrics, and created some sort of story. This one just feels like she wrote many songs and put them all on an album, picked whatever track name seemed interesting enough as the album name, and called it a day. Some of the songs are gems, some create a confusion as to why they are on this album, and some just make you cringe- or atleast go "wtf". Which is fine, but if not even half the songs fall under the first category out of 30 songs, then it's a problem.

These were written by... taylor?

The lyrics omfg. I'm not going to be one of those ppl who go around saying that the lyrics sounded like an emo middle schooler (I've heard this take) BUT again, some songs have lyrics that make you question how taylor, someone who wrote the albums folklore and evermore, and many great songs like would've, could've, should've, story of us, all too well, fearless, white horse, dbatc, daylight, red... I could keep going tbh, produced...this.

It was very weird to listen to the words "tattooed golden retriever" from someone who wrote "handsome, you're a mansion with a view" (also who the FUCK is calling matty healy that??)

A very important part of taylor's music is how it is focused on the lyrics. The music itself isn't the most special, or different, in most of her songs, but what makes them (and her) special is her songwriting. However, from her songwriting going from commonly used phrases and idioms to make them tell a story, use a wide range of vocabulary, heavily using personification, allusion, transferred epithet, and a few other figures of speech that she uses in her songs to make elements such as colours, for example, tell a story, in a way it seemed effortless and fit perfectly, to this... now it feels like she's trying to do that, but that's it. She's TRYING, and it's not yielding results, and seems more like a try hard "poet" rather than... whatever she was going for. The songs are filled with self-satisfied "clever" metaphors that are being reused and recycled over and over. This is not what ppl meant when they asked you to be more environmentally friendly, taylor.

Final thoughts I guess?

While the songs are basically only an empty shell of something that taylor used to make, the album isn't all bad. Some of the songs do sound good and go well with taylor's voice (aaron dessner, the fucking legend you are) and are quite enjoyable, if not as memorable as her other songs.

There are songs such as the prophecy, clara bow, so long, london, loml, guilty as sin?, etc., that really do come through and honestly I really like them.

I do feel that the album can grow on people, but it's just... not the best. Like she says so much, and not to quote taylor swift, but genuinely the only thing in my head right now is "the more you say, the less I know".

Overall, the album is fine, but not in taylor swift standards. It's just... not bad, with some exceptions.

[blackdollette]

kinktober day 3

10.05 - DEGRADING | JACK THURLOW!

݁ ˖🕸️.𖥔 ݁ ˖ {tags} @willsdollface @bub0nic-plague @izuoyarmin @auggiethecreator @areuirish @kashmirclam @that-one-persons-posts

previous: 10.03 - PRAISE

sub!reader x dom!jack

word count: 1.1k

contents: degradation, spanking, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, blowjob, cum eating, hints of praise

on the night of halloween, you could faintly hear the cheers of people around the neighbourhood, each chasing a sugar high of their own. but the only “trick-or-treat” you got tonight was jack.

he’d started the day off acting sickeningly sweet, treating you with more love and kindness than usual. he’d even promised you a “special treat” once night fell. never in a million years would you have thought that the same kind gentleman from the morning was the one that was mercilessly degrading you by night.

“ass up, whore.” he landed yet another painful slap on your sore ass, sending a shockwave through your body. he pounded into you at a rough, ruthless pace that made you forget everything you've ever known. you whined, arching your back as his rhythm abused your throbbing cunt.

you whined as tears poured down your cheeks, earning another harsh slap. “such a fucking whore… going dumb on my cock, hm?” he forced your hips into his, digging his length even deeper in you. your sobs sounded like music to his ears, fueling his desire to ruin you completely.

“t-too much, jack… p-please!” you choked out sobs as you begged him to stop, but you and he both knew that you only wanted the opposite. “shut up, bitch. you’re my toy, understand?” he reached out and grabbed your neck, forcing your head up. he felt your throat vibrate as pained cries erupted from them, summoning a sick smile to his face.

“yeah… show me how much of a slut you are…” he chuckled as you fell apart underneath him. he grabbed your hips roughly, forcing them into his. your skin slapped with his so hard that you would surely be bruised by the time he was done with you. you buried your head into the pillow to muffle your cries, but jack wanted to hear every noise you let out.

he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back up. “lemme hear those noises… wanna hear how good i’m making that little pussy feel…” you sobbed as he cock found the bundle of sensitive nerves deep inside you. you started leaking all over his length, making in glisten in the dim light of the room.

he watched as you uncontrollably bucked your hips into him, pleased at the effect he always had on you. “no one can make this slutty cunt feel as good as i can, got it? say it, hon…” he held your throat, forcing you to say the words as tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. “o-only you, jack…” you could barely make out the words, but he was satisfied with you attempted response, reaching a hand in between your legs to start toying with your swollen clit.

you clenched tightly around his length, throwing your head back as your body submitted to his touch. he groaned deeply, slurring out some quiet words that easily surpassed your hearing. “s-so tight for such a whore…” his cock twitched inside of you. being able to see you in this helpless position made him feel like he was on top of the world.

 each thrust hit so deep inside of you that you could physically feel yourself losing touch with reality every second. he got more aggressive with his movements, slapping your ass, grabbing your waist and marking up your hips. everything he did made the desire inside of you grow, even though you had already been going for hours.

you mumbled out meaningless little words that signalled how far gone you were. your body trembled underneath his own. you had cum too many times to count, but jack kept track by looking at the milky ring you had created at his base. the sight made him go completely feral, causing that familiar knot to tie inside of his stomach.

“n-naughty girl making such a mess of this cock. k-keep goin’ doll…” his power began to leave him as he felt a pent-up orgasm finally rising to the surface. he angled his hips in a way that made your blood run cold. you screamed out as he rubbed fast circles onto your clit, sending a squirting orgasm through your abused cunt.

jack pulled out with a loud moan, watching how your tiny pussy released such massive waves. he gave your sore bud a few taps with his tip. “couldn’t even hold it in, huh?” he chuckled darkly, flipping you over so you were on your back. he rested on the headboard, calling you closer with a finger.

“im not finished with you yet, doll. gonna ruin that throat of yours tonight…” you crawled in between his legs, propping yourself up with your elbows. jack couldn’t help but take a minute to admire how fucked out you looked right now. all glassy-eyed and flushed cheeks. he caressed your face in his hands gently. 

you melted into his touch, but it barely lasted a moment. he forced your jaw open, shoving his full length into your throat. you gagged, tears instantly welling in your eyes once again. your throat fluttered around his length, breaking the hard exterior that he’d been keeping on all night. a whimper emerged from him, shocking both of you, but neither of you paid any mind to it.

“y-yeah, just like that…” he bucked his hips into your sore throat, his eyes fluttering open and shut. his swollen cock took up twice the amount of space that it usually did, signalling that his orgasm was nearing. you hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue around his tip. he swallowed a hard groan, trying his best to refrain from blowing his load right there.

“nasty girl… look at you taking my whole cock down your throat…” it got harder for him to get his words out as you bobbed your head up and down quickly. his chest heaved up and down as he felt that overwhelming sense of relief washing through him. he pushed your head all the way down, forcing every inch inside of you as he shot hot ropes of cum to the back of your throat.

his body vibrated, the pleasure reaching a point where he could feel his soul leaving his body. he lazily bucked his hips into your mouth a few more times before pulling out, panting like a dog. he didn’t break eyes contact with you for a second, watching as you swallowed every last drop of his seed.

he stroked your cheek with his thumb, staring deeply into your pretty eyes. he pulled you up, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. he didn’t have anything left to say, but the way he held you and buried his head into your neck said everything you needed to know.

author's note: this was supposed to come out at midnight but the stupid schedule this didnt work :(( but yall can eat this one up while i work on a bonus one that should come out tomorrow. thanks for reading!

[minnesota-fats]

He’s a Spectre

DCxDP ficlet

Hal Jordan POV

I also posted this on my Ao3, go take a look at it if you are interested. IDK if i will continue this….

Enjoy!

A humanoid shape floated out in a green void, motionless and still. Feelings of longing and regret sat in his chest as he listened to the entity in his head, tell him about what he was brought back to do. The man, he thought he was a man anyway, felt both new and old. Both here and not, like he wasn’t supposed to be but was. It was all confusing.

The man looked down at himself, he clenched and unclenched his gloved fists. A ring sat over top the white fabric, glowing ever so slightly. A symbol on his chest burned, literal flames licked off the edges of the symbol. It felt familiar yet he couldn't grasp what it was supposed to be, what it was supposed to mean.

”Jordan, are you listening?” The voice asked, bringing the man back to what was happening.

“Is that my name?” He asked, pretty good for his first words.

“Harald Jordan, former air force captain and green lantern of earth. That is your name.”

”That's a mouthful,” Harald said instinctively. He smiled, “would Hal just work?” He didn't know where that came from but it sounded like it fit.

The voice seemed to sigh, making the man smile a bit. “Hal Jordan, you have been chosen as my host. In the past my hosts helped me in my quest of vengeance and in exchange all have gained forgiveness and are able to move on. It has been a long while since my last host.”

“Forgiveness? What did I do?” Hal asked, finally gaining feeling in his cold fingertips.

“you had murdered your brothers in arms while possessed by the parasite, Parallax. In the end you were able to fight back against the parasite and use the last of your power, righting most of your wrongs. You threw yourself into the sun as a final act.”

Hal didn't speak for a long time, only floated through the green space around him, passing floating islands as he went.

”You don't sugar coat anything, do you?” Hal asked, voice sounding choked up. “Where are we now?”

“The Infinite Realms, the space between dimensions.”

“Oh, alright,” Hal mumbled. “What now?”

After that day Hal continued the mission given to previous Spectre’s. However, through willpower, the mission of revenge turned to a path of redemption.

-

The Spectre flew through the chaos of the realms with a practiced ease, he didn't know how long it had been since he had become. Began? Time was odd, it all tended to blur past him in a haze. Hal knew he was never that good at keeping track of it. Which was something that he had to learn to adapt to, having memories that felt faded and hazy. He was Hal Jordan; former Green Lantern. Yet he couldn't exactly place what that means. Who was Hal Jordan? Was he a good man? Did he deserve redemption? Hal was unsure, though from the foggy memories he did remember he had a home. He had friends. He had a family.

And then he lost that home, he lost his family and he killed his friends after being driven mad. But somewhere between those memories he can see glimpses of another man, dressed in black, wearing a familiar scowl. Whether it was holding Hal in his arms, arguing with him, or simply sharing a rare smile directed at Hal after he did something the other found endearing. These memories hint at a connection that transcended the darkness that consumed Hal. Despite everything, Hal Jordan was loved—truly, deeply loved.

The Spectre was pulled from his thoughts as he felt a pull towards something ahead of him, something that required his involvement. He flew forward following the tug that Aztar told him to follow.

He followed the pull to the mortal realm, to a small town in Illinois. Hal allowed his ethereal form to fall away, donning a more human guise. The green cloak morphed into a bomber jacket—warm, comforting, and strangely familiar. It reminded him of something—or someone—from a life that felt like a distant dream. As he walked down the street, blending in seamlessly, the passersby paid him no mind.

Hal continued to follow pull until he found himself standing in a crowd, looking up to the steps of what looked like a town hall. The people around him were focused on a man standing at a podium, delivering a speech with a commanding presence. The speaker had long silver hair, neatly tied back in a ponytail, and a well-groomed beard that added to his distinguished air. He was tall, broad, and had a lean waist. He carried himself with the confidence of someone used to being in control.

As Hal's eyes locked onto the man, Aztar’s voice told him who this man was—Vladimir Masters. The man was known both in the living realm as well as the infinite. He was a halfa, a rare creature that skirted the line between living and dead. But unlike most undead, was able to blend in seamlessly.

Aztar told him that he should just drag Vladimir to hell where he belonged, there was no reasoning with a ghost. Hal rolled his eyes and just listened to what the man was saying. The mention of ghosts caught Hal off guard. that's not right? Ghosts? Unsupervised in the mortal realm? And all these people seemed to not bat an eye at his words. Odd. But that didn't matter—Vlad was someone he was sent to deal with, so he is going to deal with him.

Hal watched as the crowd thinned, many people lingering to talk to each other like how most people in small towns do. Hal found himself smiling as he began to walk forward toward the man, standing amidst what might have been his friends if it weren’t. Hal noticed the cold glare Vladimir directed at the larger man in the orange jumpsuit, who seemed wholly unaware of the Halfa’s dameenor.

As Hal approached, something caught his attention—a teen, no older than fourteen. He had been glaring at Vladimir when a puff of mist erupted from his lips, causing him to tense and look around. Interesting. Hal’s interest was piqued, but he kept his focus on Vladimir.

Hal reached out his hand to Vladimir and smiled, “Vladimir Masters, right? I’m Hal Jordan,” he says happily.

Vladimir put on a fake smile and reached out for Hal’s hand, “please, Vlad is just fine, what can I do for you?” Vlad asked, shaking Hal’s hand twice before releasing it.

Hal could feel the man's power as soon as he touched his hand. The slimy intentions wriggled around like leeches just underneath his skin. Hal could also feel the man’s hurt, his longing and how he had died cold and alone.

Hal pulled away, still smiling, “Oh, Just thought I would introduce myself, is all. I'm new to town and thought I would try and make some friends. and who are you big guy?” He asked, turning to look at the large man who practically vibrated like he was a small puppy when promised a treat.

The kid, now directed his glare at Hal as the large man walked forward to shake Hal’s hand. The man closed the distance and shook Hal's hand violently, a pure smile of joy plastered onto his face.

“I’m Jack Fenton!” the man declared with a laugh, Hal took it in strides, laughing with the man as he talked.

He pulled a short redheaded woman into his side. “This is my wife, Maddie,” he said proudly. Maddie gave a pointed look at Vladimir as soon as Jack said wife.

Next, the younger redhead introduced herself as Jasmine, their daughter, with a polite nod. Finally, the black-haired boy with furrowed brows, Danny, stood silently, his glare unwavering.

Hal reached out his hand to Danny, the teen glared at him for a moment until his mom scolded him and told him to be polite. Reluctantly, Danny took Hal’s hand, glaring still.

The moment their hands touched Hal could feel the power that buzzed behind the teen’s eyes. He could also see the pain and the anguish he had been experiencing, not only because of the silver haired man but from his parents as well. Hal also sensed the trauma of a death, this boy died screaming as his flesh melted away in a blaze….

Hal felt queasy, he forced himself to continue his easy going smile. Hal turned his attention back to the adults, now assessing the other two as well.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-16

(Previous post - current page 666)

We're continuing from yesterday inside Therapy Purgatory, and by checking out this second part with what looks like Mindfang's Journal, I'll finally be caught up on Homestuck^2: Beyond Canon and ready to liveblog any future updates as they come! :D Don't expect me to drop everything and blog immediately every time there's an upd8, but you CAN expect me to be ready to liveblog at least within a couple days of each one, I'll try to keep track of the Homestuck Twitter for updates to this section specifically too.

So, Mindfang's Journal... what will this represent in comparison to the others? Not Terezi, yet? It seems like her feelings toward Terezi would be either saved for the last part (the 8-ball) or not shown here at all, because her path to growth regarding Terezi is meant to be resolved outside the Plot Point's purgatory, not inside.

Will this deal with her relationship with her ancestor, and/or her mother? Is she going to see that she was looking up to a toxic role model in those journals? Are we going to see any hints of Vriska having been transfem or is that relegated to Pesterquest still, 'cause that would be nice to see? (I don't know much about Pesterquest other than that toblerone wish being fulfilled over there along with several other possible-trans identities hinted, no need to spoil me on any of it in case I have the courage to go through that content someday. It'd be too much work to LIVEBLOG it but I might go through it on my own and have commentary to share with y'all or something.)

Okay, clicking on Mindfang's journal now...

YEAR 4

WOW, she's going to have caught up to John (and/or Terezi in the (Meat) Timeline more like) in age at this rate? GOSH she takes a long time to psychotherapize but this is the best deus ex machina I could have ever imagined, getting her to have so much time without distractions to ACTUALLY work through her issues is fucking incredible.

But what is she working on this time?

Oh hi, one of the Nannasprites? Her "lucky mojo"... so she doesn't feel like she has her powers in this realm, which makes sense because there's no relevance or luck left to take/steal from here that isn't already concentrated inside herself?

HOLY SHIT SHE'S ACTUALLY GROWING UP IN THE SPRITEWORK, she's taller with longer horns and everything!!!!! Compare to this from the Flarp Manual section:

--although when you compare that to THIS from the very BEGINNING of page 666's sequence before the two year skip, there's not much change:

--so this NEW, MUCH TALLER sprite model is a huge step up in visual age that will likely last a section or two at least, or even serve as her final form aside from outfit changes.

Moving on...

Okay, so she's been trying to use her powers with everyone cheering her on, and it hasn't been working.

VRISKA: I don't want to 8ore you, it's just the same pro8lem as always. VRISKA: Finally I get my sea legs and figured out what this whole process is a8out, 8reeze through Eridan and John and Kanaya, only to get stuck all over again on HER.

Interesting... so is it Terezi, Mindfang, or her Lusus? I figure the Cueball section that isn't done yet is Doc Scratch, because Doc was someone who intentionally used and took advantage of her faults compared to almost anyone else, and fooled her into using the excuse of inevitability. Interesting that that's the next step after she's "cleared" lessons she's learned from her past relationships with the others offscreen. So who's this HER who's the step before this?

VRISKA: I'm not so sure........she's different from the rest of them. And no matter how I approach this, I can't figure out what the hell she wants.

Hm-- perhaps this one isn't about listening to them and what they want, but penetrating through to a way in which THEY wronged YOU and that you SHOULDN'T be listening to what they want, if we're going with Mindfang or her Lusus?

Ooh, it's weird and heartening to hear her honestly telling the Nannasprite Duo that they've made this "whole experience way more 8earable" and honestly thanking them. She's really in the process of growing up emotionally, not just physically, and it's SHOWING.

And now she's talking about having talked with John about Nanna and their shared experience of "connecting to our predecessors through their writings". Maybe "HER" IS Terezi, and she's going to try to take a detour to try and learn from Mindfang to help her with the process, only to figure out how to be somewhat disillusioned with Mindfang or actually learn from Mindfang's mistakes somehow?

VRISKA: What exactly do humans get out of these familial prim8 relationships, anyway?

Hrmm, maybe this IS about her lusus?

Ooh, Vriska asking Nannasprite why she had children (Dad Egbert). Never thought she'd ask something like that.

NANNASPRITE: I couldn't exactly bring that man [Sassacre] back from the dead, but I could put myself in his shoes and do the bang up job he never had the opportunity to do. Not to mention, I like babies! :B

Yeah, you would!

Hahah, of course Vriska doesn't understand why a human would want to raise a gross infant. So maybe this IS about her Lusus, and why her Lusus would really "want" to raise her and not eat her in part, not to mention accepting how her Lusus essentially abused and used her in ways that fucked her up?

Nanna talking about wanting to avenge herself against the Batterwitch once, before she'd vanished, of course.

NANNASPRITE: So many nights spent plotting that awful woman's downfall and making her pay for all the indignities of my childhood. For always making me feel like I was powerless to do anything.

OH THIS SECTION IS TOTALLY ABOUT VRISKA AND HER LUSUS ISN'T IT!!!

NANNASPRITE: Not to mention that now, after seeing what my younger self has gotten up to in this realm [Candy], I clearly underestimated the depth of my own desires.

Yeah, that must have been disconcerting. It's so easy for Life players, tied to the aspect of power and wealth and privilege, to decide they want IT ALL regardless of their class.

And Nannasprite realizes that if she HAD gotten revenge against the Batterwitch she wouldn't have been satisfied, that's a mature viewpoint; she can't fill the hole in her heart with it.

Wow, even watching Vriska these past few years has changed Nannasprite's point of view, she says?

NANNASPRITE: I had always wanted Betty Crocker to know what a mistake it was to steal my life, my potential, from me. NANNASPRITE: But the real issue was that not once during my childhood did I ever feel particularly wanted, or welcomed, into the world. I only had my brother, and even he ran off on me! NANNASPRITE: Yet despite that fact, and the anger and the disappointment, I still raised someone who knew what it was like to be loved.

And that pretty much SOLIDIFIES that this has to be about Vriska's lusus. We'll finally get to hear the version of her that TALKED to Vriska in sprite form, possibly! That would be the best way to work through the abuse that she was put through in part, and how unloved she felt in other-part where she felt if she didn't feed her lusus said lusus would easily have turned on her and eaten her to search out better food providers, Vriska likely always believed. Perhaps she'll also learn that her lusus thought teaching her to feed on and kill other trolls would MAKE HER STRONG, much like Bro's abuse of Dave was intended to make HIM 'strong' but weakened him in ways he's still reckoning with.

Nannasprite definitely feels that despite her hardship, she "indeed fulfill a path of potential to its fullest degree", lived a full and enriching life by doing what her own parent wouldn't for her for someone else, and doesn't regret it. And almost ("marginally") is grateful for the Batterwitch serving as counterexample, as learning NOT to live like her taught her how to seek true happiness through fulfilling others, not just herself. Vriska needs to learn this same lesson from her own experience with her lusus, it's being all spelled out here practically. Heck, it almost feels like we're speedrunning the part, except Vriska will need a bit more than the answer spelled out for her like this to get it through her thick head I bet.

VRISKA: I guess that makes sense. Weren't you worried, though? That you weren't following the right path, or living up to your destiny? NANNASPRITE: I never even considered that, hoo hoo! NANNASPRITE: Is that how you kids think these days? My lord, no wonder none of you go outside anymore.

(Pff)

Interesting, maybe Mindfang IS involved in this section too, maybe BOTH her lusus and Mindfang-- and the above is indeed an insecurity Vriska reckoned with through the very end of her plotline so far.

VRISKA: Don't p8tronize me, old lady! Destiny's the found8tion of my godhood!

Yeah, she still has a lot to learn.

Nannasprite contending that "destiny mostly fulfills itself" is nice, and also a very Life-player outlook I'd think.

Aw, Vriska's even apologizing for getting snippy!! She's come so far already!!!

Oh gosh, this WONDERFUL pose in this frame and Vriska's eye shining with emotion in it, that's so good.

{Choose Mindfang's Journal.}

Pure white...?

{????????}

Oh you overdramatic 8itch, Ancestor-version Aranea Serket! Mindfang being as overdramatic and insufferable as she TRULY MUST HAVE BEEN.

Now she's storywriting for her, setting a scene unseen, the way Mindfang's journals must have done for Vriska making her imagine her ancestor's setting and travels. Also interesting how her tangled spiderweb looked like broken glass...

As was the figure 8efore her. Though she had only ever seen it 8ehind her eyes, its form was shaped 8y words.

I have to admit, overdramatic as Mindfang can be, sometimes her writing is really damned good.

VRISKA: You can drop the ominous buildup, I already know the twist.

Hahahaha, even SHE'S getting impatient with Mindfang by now.

Oh? Had the thief 8een here 8efore?

Interesting to see the ghost/image that "shouldn't" know about the broader situation visibly deducing things about its recurrence, because both the real Mindfang would have and Vriska's image of her was smart enough to put it together.

--AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS!??! WOW. When she said she was stuck at this part, she wasn't kidding! I hope some of what Nannasprite just told her helps her finally break through the web Mindfang's journal caught her in.

VRISKA: The whole endeavor usually ends with me either killing you or... feeding myself to you.

WOW

IT'S HER LUSUS *AND* MINDFANG COMBINED

HOLY SHIT

Talk about a tangled knot of insecurities to tackle together all at once!!!!!!

VRISKA: You were all like, "Surprise, 8itch. I'm 8oth the Marquise, and your lusus!" And I fell str8 on my ass, flipping the fuck out like a 8ig tool.

Of course, this wasn't the way it was back in her real life. It's the fact that the impact both Mindfang and her Lusus's expectations had on her was similar, and an intertwined problem she has to deal with all at once. (Also this is a more interesting way to hear her lusus "talk to her" than hearing however the fuck Spidersprite must have roared.)

Scene change to the feeding cliff.

VRISKA: Hi, Momfang.

That's a heck of a nickname that works so well right now.

Holy FUCK AAAAH!!! That's a hell of a clever jumpscare and artistic depiction, her lusus roaring from out of the shape of the back of Mindfang's HAIR!

Ew, Vriska got stuck in the web once and had to eat her way out? Not pleasant.

WOW THAT'S DISTURBING, Mindfang tenderly hugging the lusus's severed head from after Vriska mercy-guillotine'd her. HS^2 artists are going crazy good here, both visually and thematically.

The girl was 8linded 8y her pup8ed angst. As 8efouled as those we8s were, this gossamer carnage had 8een home, once. Her time here made her who she was.

Fucking indeed. Vriska has to come to terms with that, both the good and bad of it, in ways she's refused to confront fully.

Mindfang asking her to collaborate with "thespian vivacity" here in her melodrama.

Yeah, back then the satisfaction of FLARP as a game was short-lived because it meant feeding the troll who lost to your lusus, ending in screams.

VRISKA: Every win, I had to share with her. Every moment, I felt her w8ting for me. It feels 8ad, not getting a choice when you do all the fucking work.

Yeah, her lusus's relationship with her was abusive and PARASITIC.

VRISKA: Sure, the 8ooty was gr8, up until the point where there was no one left to play with. After that, it was all good as gar8age.

:CCC

Ah HERE we go. Vriska's now hearing the voice of her mother(s) speaking to her conviction that it was a GOOD thing to be raised as a killer, when parts of Vriska have learned that there are ways of growing up not shouldering that awful responsibility that could have been better... but needs to accept that in her own case, too.

VRISKA: I've already tried respecting you for making me the 8est, 8ut you know what I'm realizing? VRISKA: I didn't have to go through aaaaaaaall of THAT to 8e strong. Vrissy didn't! VRISKA: Even growing up in a f8ke world where no one has a spine, and with 8arely any guidance, her powers can do things mine can't.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT she's LEARNING FROM VRISSY ALREADY YESSSSSSSS

AND FUCKING CONFIRMATION THAT I WAS RIGHT THAT SHE WAS MANIPULATING HUMANS IN WAYS VRISKA HERSELF COULDN'T!!!

I don't think this is the right place for her to realize that the other Vriska has a different Hero Role, but she will eventually, doubtless, if the theory pans out, and I just can't wait for that if it's going to happen.

VRISKA: 8ut that's the point, right? VRISKA: There is no p8sitive spin, no learning to appreci8 you, 8ecause even by Alternian st8ndards you sucked! VRISKA: You weren't a cust8dian, you were a responsi8ility. VRISKA: I protected you, I c8red for you, and you would have happily killed me the moment things didn't go your w8y.

FUCKING PREACH

And?

FUCK YOU MOMFANG

VRISKA: Th8t's not fucking norm8l!!!!!!!!

YESSSSS GROW UP VRISKA!!!!

Oh wow, now LUSUS HEAD Momfang is holding MINDFANG's head.

VRISKA: I had one place I was supposed to feel safe. VRISKA: Why did you h8ve to 8e everything wrong with the w8rld, rolled into one terri8le monster?

😭

Yeah, the momspider was only acting according to her toxic nature. There's nothing to redeem about it.

VRISKA: I KN8W YOU'RE HUNGRY! What a8out me? My entire gru8hood, I gave and you took. F8r once, what a8out what I w8nt?! She has never considered this. And wasn't considering it now, to be clear.

😭😭

8ut the narrator was curious, what DID the spiderling want from the monster?

Here we go... open your heart and spill out its contents, Vriska.

VRISKA: What I w8nt is for you to go 8ack in time and pr8tect that fucking kid, like you were supposed to!!!!!!!! VRISKA: If you did, may8e I'd 8e a8le to relax and let my f8cking guard down for ONCE, instead of const8ntly ruining things and thinking everyone is going to turn around and kill me!

😭😭😭

VRISKA: Oh my god. VRISKA: Tavros was right!!!!!!!!

HOLY SHIT

YOU GO GIRL!!!!

VRISKA: Now I get why talking to all my friends finally led up to you. VRISKA: Y8u're the reason why I could never trust any8ody! VRISKA: Even h8r!!!!!!!! Especi8lly her.

Nooooo Terezi thoughts!!! 😭 I mean I LOVE that she's finally putting it together but it's also SO SAD OMG

This is the pain she needed to face.

And now she's even rolling it into following in the footsteps of the Marquise being wrong.

She taught her descendant so much, and in such lurid detail. VRISKA: It was 80% smut!!!!!!!!

LOLOLOL

Yeah, just as you're saying now Vriska: Mindfang's example helped keep you alive, made you a "wicked pir8", but also made everyone else hate you. :C

VRISKA: I could have 8een any8ody... and you took that aw8y from me. You made me afraid of it.

I'd insert another very appropriate sob emoji here but I'm afraid of overusing it. I'm so glad Vriska is coming to terms with all this, FINALLY, after two years of trying to confront her mothers' ghosts.

--Of course Momfang says she thinks she would be an idiot to trust anyone. She was passing along her own toxic mentality.

And Vriska says she doesn't want to think like that anymore.

"TRAPPED."

Vriska regretting not killing her lusus, saving herself from what she became, before it was too late.... christ that's heavy.....

8ut even as she said it, the Thief knew that was never an option. Emancip8tion couldn't 8e granted to either party, only mutually assured destruction. VRISKA: ........ VRISKA: I wish it had 8een different. Impossible. VRISKA: I wish I was 8orn some8ody else.

Oh honey!!! 😭😭😭

Another dead end.

STFU

Vriska deservedly blowing up and yelling at her to let her get out from under her, be her own fucking person for once...

What will you do?

Oh boy... the PROMPT appears again for the first time in this branch. What will you do. Do what you will.

I wonder... perhaps this time you can run from her. Live without her. Seek... some sort of sanctuary, like the one your friends could have given you. What if you had gone to live in Terezi's treehouse and just, never, ever come home again? Her sleeping lusus wouldn't have eaten you, and you'd have been just as protected as Terezi was. What will you do, Vriska? What will you do here and now?

VRISKA: Huh. "KILL." VRISKA: You know, every week I come in here trying to figure out what more you could possi8ly want from me, and every week it's the same shit. VRISKA: I really am suuuuuuuuch a moron. "FEED." VRISKA: Exactly. It was never any deeper than that, the answer was right in front of my face. VRISKA: Well. I'm not your free ticket anymore. M8tricide then?

No, she's just going to walk away. She doesn't need to CONFRONT her mother... she just needs to MOVE ON from her.

VRISKA: Nah. VRISKA: I never really wanted that either. Lest the girl forget, there were only two choices.

Nope. There's always a third option. Tavros's option, the one you used to think too cowardly. You can always simply flee.

VRISKA: 8ut that's not true. I'm not a wiggler anymore. Alternia is dead. VRISKA: For once in my life, I have options. And just what did the ungrateful upstart mean 8y that? VRISKA (that pose from earlier, hands at her hips, grinning and eye shining almost-wet, brilliant.): I'm glad you asked! VRISKA: It means I finally get to walk away from all this. And I'm not going to look 8ack.

YES, YOU GET IT VRISKA! You can finally MOVE ON from her! You can be who you want to be now, you're not trapped anymore!

The spider forgot her hunger, for a moment at least, as the reality of such a statement sunk in.

Whoa, you even gave THEM pause. :D

She was only a spider. She did not fear death, or feel regret, or hold any sadness. She never once loved the girl. She did not feel responsible. That said, the arachnid had grown accustomed to the smaller creature's presence. She extended one long, spindly leg 8efore her, towards the young troll.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 fuck it I'm using as many of these as I want

As if to say, "HUG?"

😭

VRISKA: Oh, a8solutely not. VRISKA: Hell no.

Maybe. But if you held any feelings for her... what would be the harm, one last time? One first time?

That proved a good call, as the spider had 100% planned on eating the girl.

Okay I stand corrected. XD Get the fuck out of here Vriska, now that you finally know you never need to come back!

Instead, the long lim8 was retracted, placed 8etween the monster's own massive jaws.

What?

Crunch noise???

The spider would not notice when the girl turned to leave. And the girl would not turn around to see if she had. The 8ound cover was closed on our trusted narr8tor, as she whispered these final words. "Good luck, Vriska. 8e assured, you will need it."

🥺

And we hear the sound of footsteps, finally walking away.

{Level Complete!}

Lots of Fire motifs in the titles this time, ending in "FUNERAL PYRE". And that long candle... is it burning down a little bit each time? The lonely candle?

Perhaps representative of the trap?

Instead of going back and comparing it, I'll just take the easy route... and wait to compare it to how it looks the next time this game on page 666 updates. C:

Gosh that was so good. We'll leave things here. I'm finally caught up. I could speculate on what the last two that aren't the cueball mean... the feather doesn't make sense to me, and the 8-ball might just need to be BROKEN in order to escape the black Plot Point, metaphorically and/or literally, since Calliope did raise the possibility that the plot point might need to be "destroyed" and this candle of the time she's spending here might itself be burning it away, until she learns she has it in her heart to shine like the SUN and melt away the wax of the candle to nothing... but for once, instead of doing too much speculation on what's about to happen, I'd rather leave it for next time.

We might get to commentary at some point, or Patreon bonus panels, or even some of the Bonus Comics from before I might have missed the last tail ends of... in which case you'll get surprise posts about them from me, most likely. But for the moment, I'll just relax and see y'all again soon. At the minimum: talk to you next upd8! Or likely before then, since it seems these additions to Homestuck^2 might be weeks apart, and I'll likely feel the issue to delve into SOMETHING of the back-commentary before then in case this Mindfang journal update was anytime recent. <3

Note that if you didn't know already, the official homestuck twitter account is letting us know when the Plot Point page is upd8-ed (this last one was August 11th), and you might need to Force Refresh or clear your cache on the page if that Mindfang chapter or whatever new one that comes out later doesn't show up immediately. I'll be putting that twitter account on Notify for certain.

[spadesolace]

drag me down: hey angel

synopsis: hanni wonders what yn would be like if they weren’t rivals. if she wasn’t threatened by her academic skills and social skills to make everyone fall for her. yn wonders if hanni thinks of her the same way she does.

words: 1.6k

previous | next

If someone has been counting the days since Hanni and YN’s rivalry started, the pair would have been impressed and weirded out. Who in their right mind would keep track of something so small (to them)? That would be Hanni’s friends.

“Happy 800th day to your rivalry with YN, Hanni. Any devious plans on how you’ll avoid her?” She hated to be reminded of when you first met, a threat to her perfect streak of honors from when she was a child. Hanni believed that YN would have been a great classmate let alone a friend, but it seems fate had different plans for the pair.

Throughout the two years she’s been classmates with YN, she’s taken note of the girl’s habits. She wonders how she’s in the top rankings when she puts so little effort after the first two months when she transferred, aside from that YN has always been closed off. Sure, they’re rivals and she shouldn’t care that much but where’s the fun if your rival isn’t that interested at all?

“As if I can avoid her, I’ve accepted fate as it is. She’ll be the death of me.” Right on cue, YN is running past them, uniform a mess, a few cups of coffee in hand, and somehow still manages to look quite- pretty, except she almost spilled coffee on me without apologizing.

“Did you say something, Hanni?” Minji has always loved annoying Hanni regarding YN, heck she’s talked to the girl before and she swore that if Hanni didn’t hate her guts they would have hit it off.

“I heard her say something along the lines of pretty…” Haerin has always backed Minji up, a chaotic duo as they would say. Their number one victim being Hanni, if it weren’t for Danielle, they would have made a plan to make the two top achievers talk or go on a blind date with each other.

“Oohhh~ Hanni-unnie finally has a crush?” Hyein was either the one to fight fire with fire or simply observe and call Danielle when things get worse. Danielle looked at them sternly, the usual smile plastered on her face was nowhere to be seen which made the trio stop laughing and apologize to Hanni. The top student had simply dismissed it and continued her walk to class, that she shared with Minji and YN.

One thing that Hanni despised YN for was that the girl has always sat next to her ever since, at first she didn’t mind but even when seating arrangements weren’t given and everyone was free to choose where to sit down. She always, ALWAYS sits next to Hanni. It was no surprise when Hanni sat down, no one dared to take the vacant seat next to her, as if there was an unspoken rule that Pham Hanni must be next to Park YN. Like clockwork, YN finally arrived looking presentable, an iced americano on hand, and a tired smile plastered on her face. 

The smell of coffee beans, a mild scent yet packs a punch, followed by a hint of vanilla that Hanni can easily associate with YN, and the small “morning…” as soon as she sits down. There is a line between them, neither one dares to cross it, she’s prideful, YN is stubborn. Hanni sees her as a rival yet she doesn’t know if YN sees her the same way. Not when YN remembers precisely that it's their 800th day of meeting. Something so small yet how come YN always gives her something on those days that shouldn’t even matter? What is running inside your mind, Park YN?

“800th, here.” YN handed Hanni an envelope, a card inside, and refills…? “I noticed your pens are almost out of ink.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess.” Hanni never really read the cards, although she’s kept every single one of them. She never bothered to read it, it was just cards that YN had probably bought before going to campus last minute and didn’t bother to write anything on it. She still kept it, something about those letters despite never reading any of them, she still kept it. Hanni doesn’t return anything, YN knows that by now, all she gets is a ‘thanks’ and nothing more, nothing less. YN is still surprised by Hanni sometimes.

Hanni never cared for the little things, YN does, every single celebration she plans ahead. She does not expect anything from Hanni, she knows the girl hates her but YN loves to tease the living hell out of her seatmate. So, whenever it's their so-called “anniversary”, YN always got Hanni something practical; refills for her pens, a new notepad for debate and the school paper, the best quality marker, and snacks that would help the girl out. When YN came back from lunch with Yunjin and Kazuha, there was a piece of chocopie placed neatly on her table. Clearly, it came from Hanni because once they made eye contact, all she could do was avoid her gaze. YN still thinks that Hanni never really cared but maybe she does. Maybe, just maybe… she does.

“Thanks.” Hanni only nodded as YN sat down next to her, there was no letter on it but it was for the best. The top student did just went out of her way just to get her a snack, her favorite. “Can’t look at your classmate after giving them something sweet?”

“Shut up.”

“Ms. Pham finally cares about lil ol’ me?”

“I swear YN, just shut up.”

The class could simply watch and smile, Minji updating Haerin with the interaction, confirming the snack that the top student rarely buys was for her rival. YN could have gone a step further, one push but she doesn’t and wonder- what is running inside your mind, Pham Hanni?

The pair sat in silence, working on their extracurriculars, especially since the debate club has another practice debate within the next few days. Although neither admits, they both choose each other as their practice partner, sometimes it gets heated that they slowly start becoming personal. It was no surprise when they had their topics and they’re on opposite teams, no one dares to put them together.

“HELLO EVERYONE!” Their English teacher, Ms. Im Nayeon had entered the class, gaining everyone’s attention. The class greeted her back, some had huge smiles plastered on their faces and YN being one of them. She enjoyed the English class, it was her escape because Ms. Im uses songs as a way to teach the class metaphors.

“I’ll be returning your exams from last week, now before you all start discussing and betting whether today is the day Ms. Park finally beats Ms. Pham, some of you need to study harder rather than betting on your top achievers.” One by one Ms. Im starts calling students, everyone knows how her facial expression says everything. A frown if you fail, a passive smile if you passed, and for the special cases which have always been Hanni and YN, a grin. Ms. Im always lived for the drama one that involves the pair, probably because she’s read a lot about enemies to lovers and notices the signs that they might work out if they finally stop fighting. It was no surprise she called the pair at the same time only to watch as they sat down and compare scores.

“YES!” “NO!”

“ANOTHER WIN FOR ME!” It wasn’t the day that YN finally wins but with a close mark from each other, she would have killed just to beat Hanni once. Students slowly paying each other as they grumble and complain how they thought and believed that Hanni could be beaten by YN.

“Now, settle down. For the rest of the period I’ll be discussing this year's final project. It’ll be individual but you will work closely with someone. I’ll be picking the pairs.” Everyone groaned, it wouldn’t be that bad but the class had already planned on partnering up and leaving the two to pair up. YN knew of that plan and looked directly at Chaewon who was getting ready to pair with Minji. As their teacher started mentioning the pairs, everyone was waiting for either Hanni or YN to be called.

“Kim Minji and Kim Chaewon, lastly, Pham and Park. For the final project, we’ve discussed the Little Prince and its message of growing up. I want you to spend as much time as you can with your pair, learn about their lives before you met them, first impressions, mannerisms, interests, and what they wish for in the future. Think of writing their biography for them. This is your last year of High School, make the most out of it.”

Everyone looked at the top achievers, ready to protest but then again, it was Ms. Im whatever she says, goes. The final project was simple: learn about their partner’s life, but it wasn’t like YN would start talking about her personal life when she knows it's a mess. YN could only sigh and look at Hanni who was already deep in her thoughts. How would Hanni tell her about her life?

The pair looked at each other, everyone discussing their lives, and YN was stuck with what she wanted to say and how she should say it. How does she tell Hanni everything? As YN was about to speak up, Hanni broke the silence. “Do you want to come to my place so we can discuss?”

“Put a label on it first before I meet your parents, Hanni.”

“SHUT UP, AT LEAST I DIDN’T GET A SINGLE MISTAKE FROM A SPELLING ERROR.”

“It happened ONCE!... but fine, I’ll meet you after my training to discuss the project.”

This is going to be a long project.

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter ix

⟶ Chapter summary | Little by little, you continue to unravel the many layers of secrets hidden within the Stargrave Castle. Secrets about your new home, the secrets that your father has been hiding even from his most loyal acolytes, and you continue your exploration, finding a new purpose to keep you occupied in your father’s absence, as you are getting closer to unraveling the secrets behind your family’s magic.   

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au ⟶ Word count | 7,817 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; dark magic, mention of minor character death, a brief mention/hint of stalking 

⟶ Story Masterlist | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

⟶ Author’s note | We are finally back on track. Forgive me for the long wait. I never expected that I would take a long break with this one, but here we are now. As you may have noticed, I made a few changes in the masterpost with the changes happening with the chapters. I had to split this update into three parts, hence moving the titles around to fit the main scenes. I hope you’re having a blast with this journey. Any form of feedback is welcomed.

chapter ix. secrets

“You seem to have been quite preoccupied lately, Your Highness,” Nanny Abigail calmly says this as she brings her cup of tea to her lips. 

Even in the smallest things, she moves with full of grace. Always in a manner that would be appropriate for a royal gathering or formal dinners instead of an intimate moment of afternoon tea held on the private balcony right outside of her royal apartment. 

Behind her, the golden hue of the afternoon sun shimmers beautifully above the clear sea water. The sight is so captivating that you find it hard to look away. It gives you a sense of peace and calmness, and you have always taken so much pleasure basking in its beauty each time you are invited in these small moments with your royal guardian. 

“Me?” you ask her almost teasingly, while turning your attention to the sweet delicacies you have in front of you. You hide your smile when you can almost see Nanny Abigail shooting a glare at you as she takes a drink.

You wait until she lowers her cup of tea to see her pressing her lips to a grin as she softly scoffs at your feign ignorance. “Who else would I be talking about”—she squints her eyes at you—“Your Highness?” 

You give her a smile in return. It isn’t often that you can joke around with your guardian this easily, so it pleases you when it happens. “Oh, you’re right. How silly of me,” you say this with a chuckle. An expression that she would often comment as un-ladylike, though she rarely does ever scold you for it when you do it while you are spending time with her in her private quarters like this.

As you carefully take a sip of your tea, you wonder to yourself just how you are going to respond to her question. 

Nanny Abigail has always been perceptive. Even when she is not looking, she would still be able to see what is happening around her. So it shouldn’t come to your surprise if she has already noticed about your afternoon exploits. About your recent pastime activities and your newfound interest with the rows and rows of doors that you get to find in the long hallways within the home castle. 

It isn’t like you had done a good job hiding it, after all. With how often you have managed to slip away right after tutoring hours had ended and nearly always rushed to make your leave in the late afternoon once you were done with your royal duties, anyone would have started questioning what you have been up to.

Sometimes, you would find yourself wondering if she may have known anything about these magic doors, or that perhaps she would know about the magic behind those portals. 

But she appears quite nonchalant about your secret adventures as she brings it up. There is not a sight of the familiar pointed look nor the accusing tone in her assumptions. All you can sense coming from her is a deep curiosity that makes you wonder if she truly was just wondering about your past afternoon activities instead of prying to know where you have been disappearing to. 

Your father’s words ring back to you right at that moment, reminding you about your duty to keep the magic behind those doors as a part of your family’s secret. After experiencing and witnessing the magic for yourself, you are beginning to feel a sense of obligation to protect it of behalf of your father and the royal family. 

While Nanny Abigail has seemed unfazed with all the peculiarity that exists here in the Stargrave Castle, you still have no clue just how much about your father’s magic that she may have any knowledge of. So you quickly make a decision to keep silent about it, keeping your questions to yourself and refraining yourself from mentioning about the magic doors to her. 

Not until you know for sure that she is to be trusted with your family’s secret. 

“I do try my best to keep busy. This is a new place, and it makes me feel a bit anxious to be here without His Majesty being around. I feel—” you stop to make a grand gesture of glancing around. Your eyes fall on the stone walls surrounding the palace’s ground which is visible from this little balcony, and a wistful feeling overcomes you. “I still feel a bit out of place, to be honest.”

You turn back to exchange looks with your guardian who has been listening to you closely and give her a reassuring smile. “I figured that I would try to learn more about the castle by getting around and explore the territory as much as I can while I have the chance to.” 

And explore the castle you did. 

Every single day, from that late afternoon until right before nightfall, you would spend your time travelling across the home castle. Not only have you been venturing through the hallways where the magic doors are located, or the special rooms that your father had given you access to, but you have also gone through the other parts of the castle that you would have never paid attention to. Sometimes, you would have Lord Gordan joining you to act as a guide, guarding and showing you around the areas within the palace’s grounds while making sure that you wouldn’t get lost. 

But most of the times, you would find the time to explore the castle on your own. It gives you the chance to discover the hidden places that Lord Gordan may not have wished for you to see. 

Such as the hidden passageway you found at the back of the library which took you through the servants’ quarters on the lower ground of the castle. 

It felt as if you had just stumbled upon a secret fortune when you reached the end of that passageway to find a small servant door leading towards where the stables is located, right behind the palace. A completely hidden and secured exit point which, for some reason, you knew deep down that it would be useful for you in the future. 

You have also found a hidden stairwell which was accessible through one of the royal treasure rooms. The stairwell peaked your interest almost immediately. The fact that it seemed to be leading below the lower ground of the castle made you think that perhaps you would finally be able to find your father’s secret dungeon somewhere underground. But you were still pleasantly surprised when you found yourself arriving in a hidden wine cellar instead, surrounded by your father’s secret collection which he could have been saving up for special occasions. 

Through your exploration, you have found more and more magic doors in various places within the castle. As it have been one of your main agendas in your exploration to be able to discover and try out more magic doors before your father would return to the castle and inquire you to return his special keys. 

And the more you got to try the magic doors that you have found along the way, you slowly began to learn and understand more about them. Including how to recognise the specific details from each door which may hold the clue of the secret lying underneath.

Just like how the different shapes of the doors and archways may show you whether your destination would still be a part of the royal family’s property or if you are going to end up at an unfamiliar place that would no longer be within the empire’s territory, or how the intricate silver embellishments that are shown on each door would tell you what kind of places waiting for you on the other side and what to prepare. 

You have also learned quite recently that the positions in which the doors are placed may indicate just how far the magic portal would take you. Some would even give you a hint where your mystery destination might be located. 

Through the doors that are situated within the hallways adjacent to the King’s royal study room, you were able to travel back and forth between this palace and to various places located in Smotia. It then took a few more tries to learn that the further the magic door is located from the King’s royal study room, the further away from Smotia you would travel. 

Just like the door that you found while you were strolling down the small hallway further away from the King’s royal study. You weren’t exactly planning to try any of the magic door that day. Especially not that odd one which caught your eyes while you were coming out of the hall heading towards the library. The door didn’t standout too much on first sight compared to the others, yet the magic coursing through it beckoned you to come closer, and you simply couldn’t resist the pull.

You entered the door that day without any expectation, so you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself emerging on the other side of Smotia’s borders and right across the Coyne River. It was a place called Maplekeep, a transit town located right at the outer district of Nythelean empire’s territory.

There wasn’t really much to see in the town, except for the various inns and taverns and stage stations where travelling merchants and wanderers would stop by to have an overnight breaks and rest their horses in the middle of their journey. Perhaps that had been the reason why you were able to blend in fairly well, as you were surrounded by fellow travellers minding their own business, not enough to care about a wandering damsel asking around for information from the innkeepers. 

But despite not learning much about the town, it was through the impromptu trip that you managed to gain more clues as to what you can expect to find should you continue to venture through the magic doors you could find within the surrounding section of the palace. 

“I’m glad to hear that you are making use of your time here to do something good and find ways to entertain yourself,” Nanny Abigail says to you with genuine relief in her voice. “I was worried that you would remain locked up in your room with how unhappy you were for quite sometime after being brought up here all of a sudden.”

You ignore her comment about the displeasure that you felt at your father’s decision to move you into this castle in such short notice. It hadn’t occurred to you that perhaps you haven’t been able to hide it, as Nanny Abigail can easily see right through you. 

But you can also see right through her. And before she can have the chance to bring up your mental state about being in a new place and dive into it a bit deeper—which is something that she often does as she always has concerns over your wellbeing as your personal nanny—you swiftly turn the conversation back to your afternoon activities. 

Because that feeling of displeasure has long gone now, ever since your curiosity had taken over, and the last thing you need is to go and revisit that discomfort again. It would be quite impossible for you to still feel disdain over the sudden relocation when you have found a myriad of intriguing matters to help distract yourself from it. There are so many secrets hidden within this home castle that you wish to unravel, giving you something to look forward to when a new day begins.

“My father advised me to learn as much as I could about this place in his absence, after all, and it has been quite a fascinating learning experience so far. You never really know what you could find in the most inconspicuous places behind these walls,” you calmly convince your guardian to stop her from worrying about your mental hiccups, while inadvertently testing the waters by referring to everything that you have found through your secret adventures to see if you can get any reaction from her.

Yet, as you steal a glance at her from over your cup of tea, Nanny Abigail remains stoic. She doesn’t seem to catch on to what you are trying to allude in your comments, quite surprisingly, making you wonder if you have been mistaken in assuming that she would have more knowledge about this home castle and the magic surrounding it than what she had let on. 

You brush your assumptions away as you sip your tea. You decide that it wouldn’t do much help for you to know how much about magic that Nanny Abigail must have learned, or if she knows about your father’s secrets at all. She might have been your most trusted guardian, but you quickly remind yourself that her loyalty has always come to your father and your mother, the late Queen, first before yourself. 

“Lord Gordan has also been so kind to join me when I needed some guidance,” you generously add, if only to show that there is nothing about your exploration that she would need to be suspicious of, as there would be someone to vouch for you should Nanny Abigail starts asking around.  

“I suppose it’s a good thing that you’ve found yourself something to do with the idle hours that you have in your afternoons. It means that you are slowly finding it comfortable to have your own activities within the castle and enjoy your time here,” she claims while nodding her head. 

Though you are quite sure that you can hear a hint of sarcasm as she says this. As if she is giving one last dig—the same way you have been doing it to her—to see if you might still be hiding something from her. 

While it is true that you have something to hide, you have doubts that you are both thinking about the same thing. 

The twitch of her lips that comes as a sign that she is holding back a grin seems to confirm this, before she continues teasing you with, “Maybe you will soon begin to welcome this place as your new home.”

You cannot help but smile in response to her jab. “And it sure beats slipping out of the castle at night to travel into town out of boredom, doesn’t it?” you tease her in return, knowing full well that the revelation of your past evening activities and witnessing you unruly actions of slipping through the window late at night still haunts her to this day.

She may not have said a thing about it. Nor had she ever brought it up. 

But you can see it from time to time just how much it still bothers her. You can tell that this is also the real reason why she has grown curious to know about what you have been up to on the hours that you are not under her watch, and why she has been prodding you with her jabs and curious questions. As if she is subtly making sure that you have yet to make an effort to slip away from the home castle and disappear into the night when she isn’t looking. 

“I sure hope it does,” she says with a bit more sarcasm, which reaffirms your suspicions. Yet you can also see the pride and relief in her eyes when she says this. Once it seems clear that your answers have perfectly alleviated her concerns, Nanny Abigail soon appears much calmer. You notice it when she finally changes the topic and asks, “How is the tutoring going so far?” 

Thinking about the tutoring that you have been receiving simply makes you smile. Unlike the lessons and the long tutoring hours that you had to take back at The Citadel, the tutoring hours that you experience here have been a lot more pleasurable, and at the same time, intriguing. 

Because not only are you being taught about etiquettes and the laws of the monarchy which applies both in this realm and the human realm part under Nythelean Empire’s ruling, followed by lessons that are teaching you about everything that you need to know about your royal heritage, you have also been learning more about the fairy tale land and the magic that exists in this realm. 

Learning about everything that you have never studied before has given you a newfound enthusiasm that you feel even on the longest days of lectures. 

The more you learn about magic itself, the more curious you get about your father’s secret doors and its magic portals. And with more knowledge as your guidance, the more it urges you to unfold the mystery behind them, to be able to find your escape by finding new places that you could reach and see the new world around you simply by walking through the magic portals instead of walking directly out through the palace’s gates—just like what Nanny Abigail has been concerned about.

If only you have enough time on your hands to make it worthwhile, and the courage to just step into the doors without any reservations and with a clear head to be able to observe even the smallest thing you could find. Because you have to admit that the magic that is attached to those doors is still intimidating to you, especially with how little the knowledge that you have about your father and his magic. 

“It has been doing quite well. The new tutor is quite patient with me and she explains her lessons really well. Lady Laurel is also kind when she is answering my silly questions or helping me find answers whenever I feel lost, especially since I came in knowing nothing about magic and this mysterious land,” you confide to your guardian as you recall giving your tutor a long list of questions that you needed answers to about the home castle and the world surrounding it, and when she patiently guided you through the books about magic to help you learn more about them under her guidance. 

Nanny Abigail seems pleased to hear this. “That is splendid,” she says while clasping her hands together in glee. “I never doubted for a second that Lady Laurel would be a wonderful tutor to fill in all the things that I couldn’t taught you. And it’s hard to have doubts when His Majesty himself claimed to have chosen the best when it comes to your education and royal lessons.” 

“I suppose you can never really doubt the King’s personal choice,” you say this with a smile. “Father did choose the best guardian to take care of me, after all.”

Nanny Abigail responds to your compliment with a scoff. “I’m flattered,” she says with a mocking tone in her voice, though you don’t miss the unmistakable twitch that appears on the corner of her lips when she once again tries to conceal her smile, no doubt feeling pleased with the acknowledgement that you are giving her for her role as your guardian. 

You have to admit that she deserves it. Especially for everything that she has had to put up with when dealing with you growing up. “Since you are now free from your royal duties and your tutoring for the day, have you made plans to enjoy the rest of your day off?” 

At her question, you look away briefly to hide your anxious smile. Because you have made plans for the day. Though it doesn’t really involve venturing into any magic door, but to simply study them closely from outside and do some more calculating before you are back into using the portals again. 

One of the things that has drawn your curiosity the most is the fact that—after trying out different doors and coming out in different places—you finally have a specific place that you wish to visit through the portals. The place that your heart has yearned to return to, despite having your memory of it getting distorted over the years that you have been away from it. 

The place where you spent the short, yet the most fruitful and peaceful period of time of your childhood with your mother without having any of the royal responsibilities weighing you down. The place that you have always associated your life of freedom with before growing up in The Citadel. 

The Seacrest Manor, the summer palace where you had once lived peacefully with your mother before your father came to take it all away when he brought you home to the capital. 

You didn’t realise it at first, that each time a magic door took you back to Smotia, you were secretly holding hope that you would somehow be reunited with the summer palace. But each time, you have only been disappointed when none of the doors that you have tried so far could bring you back to your childhood home. 

Your yearning had not been the only reason why you have been searching for ways to return. There were a lot of things that your father, King Aneas, had said to you about your childhood memories with your mother and the home castle that kept tickling the edge of your thoughts ever since the day you talked to him about your connection to this place. 

You have no idea what about it that keeps troubling you, but it does make you want to see it for yourself. To see the old home of yours which your mother had built for you to know that your childhood memories had been real, instead of a distorted image which was created to fill the void that your mother had left behind in her passing.

But time and time again, just as that wishful hope kept growing, you kept getting even more disappointed. For some reason, you kept failing to find the right portal to take you back to that place. Leaving you to wonder if that place ever truly existed, or if your father had somehow made it so you would never be able to return to the summer palace ever again. 

Before you can let this slip out of your lips, you bite your tongue and hide it with a smile. “I’m planning to do a bit more exploring, then maybe end the day early. Lady Laurel informed me yesterday that I would have to start revisiting my dancing lessons again starting tomorrow, just in case I would have to join my father in future royal events since we’re back home.” 

Nanny Abigail regards you with a proud smile, completely oblivious to your secret mission. “I’m glad that you are focusing on your studies. But please make sure you are not overdoing yourself, Your Highness. I would hate it if I must inform His Majesty about the princess falling ill in his absence.” 

You return her smile as you finish your tea. Still lost in your own musing, you don’t realise it until far too late that your guardian had just made a slip up. That while your father has been absent without any news sent to you, Nanny Abigail may have been in constant contact with His Majesty even while he is far from home.

It took you a total of two weeks of venturing through your father’s magic doors before you finally gain courage to travel further away. Down to more hallways, and with a bit more distance from your private quarters and the King’s royal chambers. 

Aside from gaining more information about the doors and the magic portals, and learning how to calculate your next destination, you have also learned that the more you use the portals, the more you seem to be more aware of the enchanting voices coming from the magic.

The humming sounds that they make as they exude magic no longer scare you. Sometimes, you could even hear words faintly murmured between the indistinct humming. Though after making efforts to decipher them and failing, you finally realise that the language might be a part of ancient tongue which you have never heard or learned before. 

You are quite sure that you might be able to find the right books in the palace’s library about the ancient languages of the Far Far Away land, yet it hasn’t been easy to look for these information on your own without raising questions. So you bide your time, hoping to one day find the chance and the right way to bring this up to Lady Laurel during your lessons.

Today, you are back with another adventure. 

You remind yourself to stay focus, hopeful that by doing so, you would be able to memorise the faint spell. But, much to your disappointment, as you walk across the portal, the humming sound that usually engulfs you only lasts for a brief moment. While the distinct sounds of the spell sounds louder this time, it dissipates far too quickly before you manage to catch what it is trying to say. 

Within moments, you emerge in a foreign room that no longer feels like a part of the home castle. As always, you take a moment to breathe, as you are still surrounded by the ripples of magic which seems to cling onto you upon stepping out of the portal, and you wait until everything settles down. Until there is nothing left but the deep silence that always follows. 

Taking a long and deep inhale of breath, you can immediately sense that this place is nowhere close to home. Not to the Stargrave Castle in the magic realm, and neither it seems to be a part of any of the districts which surround Smotia. 

The air around you feels warm, and a bit stale, which is quite surprising as you find yourself standing at the center of a cottage which is surrounded by fresh plants and green vegetation rapidly growing at every corner. There are massive trees growing right on the other side of the clear windows, giving you a pleasant view which shields you from the bright sunlight shining from the sky. 

The cottage itself feels cozy, with big, comfortable loveseats filling the main room, a small fireplace at one corner and an adequate bedroom which appears on the other side. There are large windows overlooking the garden surrounding the cottage, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves spread across the walls, all filled with books and journals which draws your curiosity.

As you started today’s exploration a bit early, you still have a long period of time left before you would have to return home in the nightfall. So you take the chance to look around to get to know more about this place before venturing further.

The books in the shelves and the pictures you find around the fireplace are not giving you much information about where you are. Then you walk into the bedroom, finding it looking just as normal as any regular household would. With a cozy bed taking its center, accompanied by a pair of bedsides tables with unlit table lamps, and a smaller bookshelf on the side of the room.

Aside from looking as if the bed has never once been used, there is nothing that you see here which may give you any hint or clue about this place. 

But then you turn around, and an old wooden closet that is strategically placed in the corner of the room comes to view. You take a peek inside to find a row of common people’s clothing neatly hanged on one side.

There are a couple of shirts, vests, and a few pairs of pants, only enough to fill the closet to make it seem like someone actually lives in this space and has been wearing them regularly. But it only takes one touch to know that none of these items have been used. Much like the stiff wooden bed that overtakes the bedroom. 

As you shift around the hanged clothes, you find some items that do seem to have been properly worn being slipped in between. 

You see a couple of long cloaks and coats made of high-quality fabric. Similar to what you have seen worn by travelling merchants and landlords. They feel silky and heavy at the same time the moment you brush against them. Yet as you touch them properly to get a closer look, a hint of your father’s perfume immediately wafts through the air, engulfing you with its familiar presence. 

Feeling a bit dubious, but not entirely surprised to find your father’s trace within such a modest-looking cottage, you step away from the wooden closet and have your attention drawn to a dresser placed nearby. Puzzled, as the furniture was completely out of view from the bedroom, you approach it with cautions, only to have your eyes growing wide at what you find.

Right on top of the dresser, placed neatly in front of a square-shaped mirror, are a full set of disguises that you have never seen before. 

A set of bright-coloured fake long hair and nicely trimmed fake beard made in similar tone colour are set up on what seems to be the head of a mannequin doll. Seeing them and thinking about how your father may have come here through the portal from time to time, and that he would be wearing the merchant’s clothes along with these items as his disguise, you cannot help but let out an incredulous laugh. 

“Oh, Father. Just what have you been up to?” 

The center of the market town of Narlès is thriving with its daily business. 

There is not a single shop or stall in sight that remains idle under the afternoon sun. 

Merchants actively move from one shop to another to trade their goods and handle their business with the keepers. Shopkeepers are either frantically tending to their buyers who keep flocking into their outlets or promoting their merchandise loudly to attract possible customers from the streets. Errand boys and girls are seen weaving through the crowd of people in the streets and between stalls to deliver goods. 

Every single thing within the marketplace seems to be constantly moving. 

The rush of overflowing consumers entering and leaving the main marketplace appears like a stream of blood pumping through the veins, making it seem like the entire marketplace has become its own living entity. 

Viewed from high above, all the motions happening down below becomes quite an amusing sight to see, as the Prince of Faes, Min Yoongi, observes everything with keen eyes without any of those people noticing his presence. 

Perched on a line hanging from one rooftop to another, Yoongi balances himself without ever looking away from the bustling marketplace, unwilling to miss anything that is happening right this moment. Except that he isn’t here simply to enjoy the sights, nor is he here to trade goods with the merchants and shopkeepers. 

Cloaked under his disguise and hidden from view, Yoongi is here on a completely different mission. 

More than an hour ago, an intense wave of magic rippled through the fissure of time and space, signifying the presence of a magic portal opening. Using his magic, Yoongi traced its presence, and it led him to arrive here in Narlès, one of the busiest market towns within the human realm. 

For the past two weeks, this is something that he has been doing to spend his time. As the flow of magic kept emerging in various places and always at different periods of time, it ripples back to him, calling for him to follow its trace. 

So he kept following wherever the ripples of magic called for him, leading him to keep traveling to various, completely unexpected places each time the magic portal would materialise. 

That would possibly be the reason why he wasn’t too surprised when he was brought back into the human realm this afternoon, after repeatedly experiencing the same thing as of late. But it does make him wonder why the magic would bring him here, of all places, after the magic portals kept bringing him back to Smotia and its surrounding territories.

Which is what this market town not a part of. 

Located in the juncture between multiple neighbouring kingdoms, Narlès has become a sovereign city, established under its own autonomy instead of being ruled under any reigning kingdom. Governed by its own people, Narlès has become one of the most important trading market centers for its surrounding cities and towns, and would often act as the middle point for business trades between kingdoms.

As their immediate neighbour, Nythelean Empire and the people of Smotia have become one of their biggest consumers over the years, allowing Yoongi to grow familiar with this territory through the work that he has done under the guise of being the leader of the mercenary army. 

It would have been easy for him to blend with the people in the market. But he chooses to step back, allowing him to gain the perfect peripheral vision of the entire marketplace to find what he is searching for. 

Or, in this case, who. 

While he continues his keen observation, a black crow cuts through the air and hovers around Yoongi briefly, before it lands on one of his shoulders. Despite his wish to completely disregard the mysterious crow’s presence, its appearance has effectively stolen Yoongi’s attention away from the bustling market, albeit briefly. 

But he says nothing, and is instead turning his eyes back to the market to watch a couple of young boys running between the stalls to pursue a passing carriage with fresh delivered goods to sell. 

The crow flaps his wings as it seems to follow Yoongi’s gaze into the market, then a deep voice calmly speaks, 

“I don’t suppose that you came to this place today to buy some merchandise to bring home.” 

The corners of Yoongi’s lips lift to a grin under the thin fabric covering half of his face which serves as a disguising mask. “Yijeong, it’s always a pleasure to have your presence,” he says in return. This time, he gives the black crow the attention that was asked of him as he looks at it through the corner of his eyes and inquires him, “But do tell me, just how did you manage to follow me all the way here?” 

The black crow, who turns out to be his loyal companion merely scoffs at him. He shakes his wings in a dramatical fashion before finally answering Yoongi’s question. “It wasn’t too hard, really. As the last person who conjured the magic portal has left it widely opened in his bedchamber, glaring back at anyone who would dare to step into his room in his absence.” 

Yoongi closes his eyes and curses under his breath. It isn’t like him to be so careless. Not with this kind of thing, and certainly not when it involves the magic portals. “It certainly will never happen again.” 

The black crow makes a sound that seems similar to a scoff before Yijeong’s sarcastic voice speaks again, “I sure hope so.” 

Yoongi snaps a quick glance at his best friend who is no longer paying attention to him. If only Yijeong had come in his human form, there is no doubt that Yoongi would have been able to see the scepticism written on his friend’s face after hearing his response. But the crow on his shoulder remains calm—aside from the slow rise of his wings which happened right after his sarcastic remark—with his eyes browsing through the crowd of people roaming through the marketplace. 

Instead of noticing Yoongi’s attention, he remains silent and starts searching with his sharp eyes.

As if he knows exactly what Yoongi has been trying to find down there. 

“Don’t worry,” Yijeong continues without looking at his Prince, “I’ve covered your portal for the time being before jumping into it. I also made sure that no one would be able to enter your chamber until you would return home.” 

“Thank you,” Yoongi says with a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate it. I meant it when I said it won’t happen again.” 

The black crow chuckles. “I’m not sure why you are making promises to me. I’m not the one you should be answering to if anyone ever discovers your secret.” 

Yoongi says nothing in return. Because Yijeong is right, after all.

Guilt pulls at him when he imagines what his carelessness would have caused, and how much trouble he would have found himself in if Yijeong had not been at the right place and time to find and fix his mishaps. 

Not only would it have spoiled Yoongi’s secret mission—one that must be kept from anyone other than his own people—but it would have also unveiled some of the best-kept secrets behind the family magic that has been passed down from one generation to the next, including Emperor Aymon’s past choices which may have changed the course of Fate of every living being in the Land Far Far Away who are somewhat connected to the Emburn Empire. 

The magic behind the creation of the portals connecting various realms, and the spell that could be used to bend and manipulate time and space was a huge part of the ancient magic passed down within his family from Yoongi’s blood ancestors who once ruled the land of Emburn. 

The magic behind it was so sacred that only the chosen ones among the bloodline would be able to conjure the spell, and those chosen ones have always become the ones deserving of the throne, chosen not only to preserve the ancient spells but also to use it to rule and maintain the prosperity of the empire, the sacred land of Emburn, and its people. 

Just like how Emperor Aymon has been harnessing this powerful magic to rule his empire, and how Yoongi would one day harness it once he ascends to the throne in place of his father. 

At least, this is how it was supposed to be.

Except that there will be no need for Yoongi to wait until the day his father steps down from the throne to be able to harness the magic behind the portals connecting the realms. As Emperor Aymon has long since passed down the magic into Yoongi’s hands, allowing him to conjure the spell and summon the portals and use them to go through with his mission. 

Emperor Aymon made the decision to pass it down early once he realised that his ailing body would not be able to take on all of the flowing mana needed to rule and maintain his empire. On the day that Emperor Aymon sent Yoongi on his mission, he already knew that it would have been consequential for Yoongi to be able to master the spells to travel easily between realms to fulfil his final wish. 

That was when he bent the rules that his ancestors had made for reigning emperors and transferred his mana, passing down the ancient magic coursing through his veins to his son, to best prepare him for his journey. 

“Harness the magic and wield it the best you possibly can and to however you need it throughout your journey ahead. This magic will help you on your travel, and help protect you from any evil will that you may come across in your way.” 

But that is not the only secret that Emperor Aymon had kept for many years. One that he never once revealed to anyone until the day he shared it with Yoongi before sending him on his way. 

That on the day the ancient magic was passed down to Emperor Aymon from the previous ruler, there was another who was granted the same blessing. It was someone who, after being taught properly how to harness the ancient spells to their own benefit, had managed to find a way to alter the original form of the magic to make it their own.

And that person is the one that Yoongi has been spending years trying to find. 

Years of following nothing but their shadows, until the most recent rise of magic allowing him to know that they have finally returned to the Land of Far Far Away. 

It wasn’t hard to recognise the space-bending spell. As much as they have altered the magic behind it, there is still the familiar flow of mana behind it—an identifying signature of the ancient magic of Emburn that Yoongi could easily recognise once manifested. 

Yet as he began following the traces left behind by the magic portals, Yoongi was caught by surprise to what he found. Because the person behind it, the one who has been harnessing the magic to open the magic portals, hasn’t been the one he was expecting to find. 

But the surprise has been a welcomed one nonetheless, when he kept seeing you emerging on the other side of the portals. It has been a miracle which he could only thank the universe for happening, yet Yoongi immediately knew at the very first revelation that he couldn't make any rash decisions. 

Not until he could finally make sense what exactly has been going on. He needs to know what you are up to and how have you managed to use the magic spells to summon the portals. And then, once—if ever—he finds the answer, he would have to find away to figure out where you have been coming from. 

This is the reason why he is up here, observing the situation, instead of hastily chasing your shadows the same way he has been doing for quite a while. 

As if Yijeong has been following Yoongi’s train of thoughts in their silence, he suddenly shifts on Yoongi’s shoulder as he questions the Prince, “Haven’t had enough of stalking her yet, have you?” 

Yoongi doesn’t bother to look at his friend as he scoffs to say, “I’m not stalking her.” 

“Really?” Yijeong’s voice is filled with scepticism, which isn’t showing much due to his current form. But Yoongi can still feel it when Yijeong questions him again, “Then what have you been doing, Your Highness?” 

Yoongi is hesitant to answer at first. He isn’t quite sure why he is still keeping his distance. 

After almost getting caught on the day he followed your trail to emerge—completely unexpectedly—at the royal orchard house, Yoongi has his own suspicions that you might have caught on to his presence. Even if you have yet to see him with your own eyes. 

But Yoongi has certainly noticed the changes in your behaviour as of late, when you have grown more cautious during your explorations ever since your trip to the royal orchard house. You have been making it hard for Yoongi to keep up with your movements, always disappearing from sight before Yoongi could get any closer, as if deliberately doing so to stop him from witnessing your return to the magic portals. 

“I’m just—making sure she’s safe,” he begins explaining himself. “If our intel on her had been correct about her never stepping foot in the fairy tale land before, then I don’t think she really has a good grasp on the magic that she has been using. That may explain why she’s been quite reckless. Understandably so, if you think about how new all of this must have been for someone like herself, if she—just as we both suspected—has truly only been raised in a world without magic. She must have only gained access to the Wicked King’s magic quite recently, so she is bound to be curious to see and experience everything while she has the chance to.” 

Yes, this must have been the case, Yoongi wonders to himself. This is what he has caught on to so far, after observing your activities as of late and how you seem to be handling the magic spell and the portals. 

As someone who has been able to open the portals this easily and walk through them to reach the places that you have been to, you don’t really seem like someone who is quite used to the portals and the aftereffects of the magic behind them. It is quite obvious that this is all new to you, and this knowledge is something that has piqued his own interest to know more about you—about your story and your secrets—before he would finally make his move to approach you. 

“Just like her mother did, you mean?” Yijeong suddenly asks him, surprising Yoongi how it rubs him the wrong way when the missing Queen is being mentioned.

Yoongi furrows his brows as he considers how to answer his friend. While there had been many speculations about the circumstances behind the Queen's disappearance, this is one among the many theories that both Yoongi and Yijeong heard being spread among the people of Smotia which somehow made sense. 

That the Queen may have access to the portal and was lost in it.

“We don’t really know if that was really the case with the Queen,” Yoongi carefully says. “Unless we can find out more about the portals and how she is capable of accessing them, which is something that may not happen until I can get closer to her. So we should refrain from making too many assumptions until then.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Yijeong says, surprising Yoongi when his friend easily agrees with him instead of arguing. Although he notices soon enough that it is only because Yijeong has had his attention drawn somewhere else.

“Speaking of you being right and someone being reckless—” Yijeong starts, drawing Yoongi’s attention back to the busy market, allowing him to see exactly what his friend is seeing. 

Even when you are hidden under the guise of your worn-out cloak, he can still easily find you among the crowd. He sees you weaving your way through the marketplace, swiftly moving from one stall to another, obviously captivated by everything that you are seeing—the market, the people, the goods that they are selling. So much so that you fail to notice a few other movements happening close by, with every single one of them following every step you make. 

As flashes of swords, blades, and other metal objects keep peeking from under their cloaks, Yoongi can easily tell that they are not the kinds of people whose presence he should take lightly. Not with the hostility that he can sense from them even through the distance.

“Fates,” Yoongi swears in rage. 

And he immediately sets off, leaving his hiding place behind to jump straight into the heart of the marketplace to follow your footsteps, ensuring your safety even from a safe distance if he must, before unwanted danger finds its way to reach you. 

— © 2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[swallowerofdharma]

What is your vision, interpretation of this little flashback and Yashiro's monologue of chapter 58?

Hi, I am assuming that you are referring to Yashiro recounting, in his mind, an instance of Doumeki visiting during the two weeks that passed between chapter 57 and chapter 58? There are quite a few other calls back to other moments in the past in the chapter also, triggered by Kageyama’s line of questioning, and those are significant ones too. So let’s see; chapter 57 ended with the narration going back to Yashiro and giving some insights into his perspective - quite chilling and pessimistic, with him feeling stuck and left behind - after the previous major shift that had us following Doumeki’s point of view mostly for quite a while (although the narrator is quite often very external and neutral), from the start of chapter 53: Doumeki’s thought bubble saying “What a lie”, after speaking with Muraji on the phone, is quite telling and in my opinion a good addition to make clear to the reader that Doumeki has been deceitful in more than one way. He is keeping things hidden from his superiors and he is keeping things hidden from Yashiro, notably his authentic emotions, which has been definitely confirmed at the beginning of chapter 56. I’m already stepping out of track here, but I think it’s important to clarify that I keep in mind Doumeki’s duplicity, because I think this is what the author wanted in giving us so many hints about it. But if the readers know or suspect that Doumeki has other more genuine feelings beside possession and jealousy, feelings that resemble what he had for Yashiro before the time skip, when he called him “kashira” tenderly, Yashiro doesn’t know that. He doesn’t suspect, doesn’t hope. He believes that Doumeki has moved on from whatever he thought he was feeling for Yashiro and he constantly misses the old him. Remember that Yashiro heard that he has a woman now, from Nanahara, suspected it even before their encounter with Izumi, and Doumeki never clarified that point when asked directly, he has been thinking over and over about Doumeki and Izumi together lately. He has interpreted Doumeki’s jealousy as anger and disgust in him, worry about Yashiro selling info for sex, and not as a sign of “interest” or worry about him as a person, and now he only understands that Doumeki is using him for sex “without a word, without any meaning”. I think that as readers we should always pay attention to what the characters know and why, especially now that both Yashiro and Doumeki can’t see or know what the other is feeling. Yashiro’s blindness is addressed directly in this part of the chapter, by the way. We are offered a broader perspective, although still quite partial and not omniscient ourselves, so as not to draw hasty conclusions.

What is it that Yashiro can’t see, figuratively speaking? The same thing he refused to see before or tried to reframe as something else: that Doumeki could have been genuinely in love with him and that he could have let himself reciprocate. Although I could bring up an amount of textual evidence to my reasoning, this is still my interpretation and others might have another opinion, but I have always thought this: the trigger for the deep change in Yashiro when it comes to arousal and desire being aligned now wasn’t Doumeki successfully expressing love through his love making, more than it was Yashiro feeling his own raw love and emotions and vulnerability and being forcefully confronted with his grief. The “break” happened when it was no longer possible for Yashiro to detach himself, to deny his hurt and deepest wounds, to compartmentalize and deny the fact that he might have minded having sex, he never wanted it, he was forced into it, and he was made to say that he “liked” it, because his body responded to it. And now he has been living with his unresolved feelings for Doumeki, and his memories of him, more fragile than he was before, without assigning blame or asking for anything else because he never could really see Doumeki in a bad light, but pure, earnest and he didn’t trust himself not to ruin it, being entangled in so many dark things, his reputation, the shame and degradation, the yakuza, the constant danger.

The sentence that hit me harder in chapter 58 was Yashiro saying to Kageyama: “An old man like you shouldn’t worry about such sickening things”. Although they have been bantering all the time, this is Yashiro once again downplaying his own feelings, the fact that he is capable of falling in love and helpless about it, him refusing to being seen and considered, refusing to bring all the painful things under the light and sharing them with someone else. The multiple wounds are still opened and the doctor is now offering to take another look now, a proper look, without the fetishized aspect, but Yashiro will spare him the sight: they are too disgusting, they aren’t worth the time. In answering a previous ask, I referred to Yashiro’s homophobia, or biphobia. This has become more and more apparent when he has been comparing himself to Izumi or other women, Yashiro doesn’t feel like he can possibly measure up, being treated the same, and therefore if he is in love with a “straight” man, in no way there is a possibility to be chosen and for good reasons, he will always be less than, a corrupted thing, a deviant in his mind, a vice and object for men to occasionally use, Doumeki now included: this is what he is doing now, having grown up into a full fledged yakuza like the others. Yashiro has been acknowledging his own bisexuality openly, but he doesn’t believe that Doumeki could be bisexual himself. He is a straight man who thought he fell for a man as a one time thing, turns out maybe it was just curiosity and sexual gratification. He comes to have sex and leaves. Yashiro’s point of view has always been screwed towards the worst case scenario so that he can prepare, can go into any situation disillusioned, so maybe he would hurt less. This is how I have been interpreting what is going on with Yashiro in the last pages of both chapters 57 and 58. We are going down much deeper than ever, before hopefully going up for air and find a little light. Yashiro needs to confront all the negative things he always heard about and associated with homosexuality: something he discovered in the worst way possible and also something that his stepfather claimed to despise, since he would rather pretend Yashiro was a girl, and have him think that way, until his body grew up into puberty to resemble a boy more evidently and Yashiro got discarded. The pedophilic inclination of Yashiro’s stepfather, and the implications on Yashiro’s perception and confusion about homosexual desire and love, have been addressed and shown and brought up in quite key moments, so I think we should face it as readers. What he internalized about himself and his reactions to feelings of desire or falling in love with men rather than women are big unresolved issues and were behind Yashiro’s path to self destruction and his lack of self worth. As I said before I am glad that all this is addressed too, instead of being ignored in favor of some superficial and quicker satisfaction in the notion that love saved the day and cured all. Yashiro just accepting in “being wrong” in an unproblematic way so that he can be a passive object to Doumeki’s “rightful” love, and an object to the readers that Doumeki can fuck and being hot for, displaying excitement and sexual gratification instead of resisting: this has never been what I wished for or expected from the story. Well that would have been the pornography way yaoi are accused of being about, nothing more. Yoneda’s inspiration goes further and I can see how she genuinely likes and cares for Yashiro and her other characters, not just using them to sell magazines or prove an abstract point, which is why I am not going to stop praising her work.

[riotwritesthings]

Who Guards the Bodyguard

T, 3k - No-Powers AU, Humor, bodyguard!Bucky

One college bar, one bodyguard, one sleazeball who can't take no for an answer. Shaken, not stirred.

Hey remember when I took birthday prompts, like… 9 months ago? Good times. Anyways guess what I finally finished.

The prompt was some combination of “You’re my new bodyguard and you’re cute” / “Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second” / “I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having” So I really just mashed all of those together and ended up with this lol. I hope you enjoy it @clarajanedesperaux!

~

This job is supposed to be easy.

All Bucky has to do is keep an eye on a billionaire’s spoiled, wild son and make sure the kid doesn’t end up kidnapped or otherwise killed. Easy.

And yet, it has not been easy, most notably because Tony Stark can’t know that Bucky is guarding him. Howard had been very insistent about his son’s ability and determination to ditch his previous bodyguards, and half of the stories were honestly impressive if true. So Bucky has a very strict set of guidelines to follow that most days make him feel more like a stalker than anything else.

He gets a ping whenever Tony leaves the Stark family’s Fifth Avenue mansion, and satellite tracking makes it quick work to follow him anywhere in the city. Bucky’s not exactly sure how Stark has GPS-tagged his son, but he’s not paid to ask questions.

He’s paid to put his experience in black ops and undercover work to good use and not be seen while he’s following a twenty-year-old around the city making sure no one kills the kid.

Totally normal, super easy.

Yeah right, Bucky thinks to himself in bemusement as he watches Tony over the rim of his beer.

This is the third bar the Stark heir has been to tonight, and Bucky really must be getting old because all he wants is to go home.

He’d kind of like to tell Tony to go home too, and not just because it would mean Bucky could go back to his apartment to hang out with his cat. It’s because he knows what Tony is doing, he knows the rotating cast of friends that meet Tony at one bar just to abandon him at another. He knows how damn lonely that is.

He might be watching from a distance, but Bucky is pretty damn good at what he does and he can tell there’s a lot more to Tony than the kid lets on. He’s got a bigger heart than he likes to show and hidden scars, he deserves better than fake friends and a father who won’t even give him a chance.

But that’s none of Bucky’s business.

Two more bars later, Bucky is feeling a lot less generous towards his charge. This place is too damn crowded, and loud, and Bucky has to keep moving around to keep Tony in his sight. And for what, just to watch him half-heartedly flirt with some asshole in a trucker hat, of all things? The kid could at least have the decency to have some taste.

Bucky forces down some more unsavory thoughts about trucker-hat-douche as he slides onto another seat at the bar and waves for a refill on his beer. He pointedly ignores it when the guy on the next stool spins to face him, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Tony near the pool table across the bar. Even if he wasn’t working right now, he is in no mood and he does his best to convey that with the side of his face.

The asshole doesn’t take the hint though, and Bucky can feel the weight of his sleazy smirk as he asks, “Well hello, you come here often?”

“Nope,” Bucky says shortly, which is conveniently both true, and will hopefully cut off any further conversation.

"That makes sense,” the man says with a nod and a widening smirk, continuing to ignore all of Bucky’s not-so-subtle hints, “I would remember seeing you before.”

He probably thinks it sounds flattering, but he just comes across as gross. Bucky takes his eyes off his charge just long enough to glance over at the man next to him, taking in his flushed, sweaty face. The asshole is definitely drunk, probably completely hammered, and Bucky doesn’t want to deal with this.

He fixes his eyes forward again, hoping the guy will at least take one of his hints if he just keeps throwing them in the asshole’s face.

“C’mon, I’ve seen you moving all around the bar,“ the man says, because of course he can’t just give up. ”It’s obvious you’re looking for something, only to wind up next to me,“ he continues in what he probably thinks is an alluring tone, ”there’s no reason to play hard to get now.”

"‘M not playing anythin’,” Bucky snaps, cutting his gaze to the side just long enough to give the man a sharp glare, "and I’m not interested."

The asshole on the next stool just laughs, and Bucky can smell the vodka on his breath as he leans closer. “Don’t be like that,” he says with another slimey laugh, “you don’t even know me yet, and I’m very interesting.”

Bucky lets himself outright scoff at that, because he very seriously doubts that this bar-regular who can’t take no for an answer has any sort of hobby that Bucky would find interesting. He can see it from the corner of his eye when the asshole scowls, when his fingers curl tighter around his drink, and Bucky sighs internally.

“What, you think you’re too good to even give me the fucking time of day?” The guy demands, abandoning his attempt at a sultry tone in favor of a snarl. It sounds more natural for him, honestly.

There are a lot of ways Bucky could answer that.

He could point out that technically at this point it would be ‘time of night.’ Or he could get brutally honest and say that while he doesn’t usually think very highly of himself at all these days, he does still think he can do better than this random bar asshole. Maybe not a whole lot better, but better.

Instead of saying anything at all though, Bucky reluctantly tears his eyes away from the Stark heir across the small bar. He turns to finally face the man next to him and fixes him with a dry, expectant stare, quirking an eyebrow and letting the man fill in how ‘interesting’ Bucky thinks he is for himself.

The asshole’s face starts to twist with rage, but he smooths it out again with what looks like a fair amount of effort before saying, “Well, how about you let me buy you a drink and give me sixty seconds to change your mind.”

“No,” Bucky says shortly and starts to turn away. But then the man starts to reach for him, like he’s going to grab Bucky’s shoulder to stop him, and Bucky goes tense all over.

Part of him, a big part, wants to break this asshole’s wrist and be done with it, but that would draw way too much attention. He doesn’t trust himself to grab the man’s hand without breaking something, and he can’t even risk punching the jerk when his entire job relies on Tony never noticing him.

So Bucky has to settle for moving out of the asshole’s reach, shifting half off of his stool to accomplish it, and glaring harder as he snaps, "Do not touch me."

If the man was less drunk, and less of a dick, there’s no doubt that Bucky’s best death glare would be enough to chase him off. But he is a drunk asshole, so instead of running he grits his teeth and narrows his eyes.

“Listen, asshole,” the guy starts and Bucky does outright laugh at that, sharp and mocking.

He’s not surprised that the man’s face flushes an angrier shade of red, but Bucky really couldn’t help himself. The asshole continues to sputter for a second before sliding ungracefully off his stool and pulling himself up to his full height, wobbling slightly in the process.

“I don’t appreciate you- fuckin’- talking down to me,” the asshole spits furiously, but Bucky isn’t listening to him anymore.

With a sigh, Bucky slides the rest of the way off of his own stool and he can only hope that Tony is still distracted with the trucker-hat-douche because this is definitely about to become a scene. At least it’s somewhat gratifying to watch the drunk stumble back half a step when Bucky pulls himself up to his full height and squares his shoulders, but it doesn’t look like the man plans on backing down.

“Last chance to walk away,” Bucky warns because he has had it with tonight. At this point he will be perfectly happy to get kicked out of this shitty bar and fuck this job.

The asshole has his mouth open to respond, but then his eyes go wide as Bucky feels someone winding their arms around his and plastering themself tightly to his side. Bucky feels his own face twitch in shock when he jerks his gaze to the side and realizes that it’s Tony clinging to him.

Tony, who Bucky is supposed to be keeping an eye on, and who is not supposed to even be aware of Bucky’s existence. Tony, who is smiling up at him like Bucky isn’t a complete stranger to him, like he knows Bucky.

“There you are, hot stuff,” Tony says, his tone as familiar as his grin, and Bucky has a terrible feeling about the future of his employment. “I was starting to think you were standing me up,” Tony continues, fluttering those long eyelashes up at him.

The eyelashes that Bucky has tried so hard not to notice, but he’s sure as hell noticing them now.

Even caught off guard, and maybe a little distracted, Bucky isn’t a complete moron. He knows what Tony is doing, so he quickly pulls it together and works up a smile of his own.

“Wouldn’t’ve been so hard t’ spot you if you’d picked a less crowded place,” Bucky finds himself saying, because he can’t not complain about this dive bar now that he’s been given the chance.

Tony throws his head back with a laugh, and Bucky does not let himself get caught up in the sound of it. Not even a little.

“I * knew* you would hate it,” Tony says gleefully and the light in his eyes isn’t just teasing, it’s knowing.

Like Tony actually chose this bar just to annoy him, and Bucky is officially in so over his head.

He is also reluctantly charmed, and Bucky can’t fight down a tiny grin of his own even as he shakes his head and says, “You-”

“Hey,” the asshole interrupts, apparently not happy with being completely ignored.

He’s glaring at both of them now, and Bucky automatically shifts so he’s a little more between the drunk and the person he’s supposed to be secretly bodyguarding. He can at least still do half of his job. Tony grins at him like he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking, and hell, he probably does. Just like it’s probably no accident that Tony is wrapped around his good arm, making it much less likely that he’ll throw a punch.

Nothing would really surprise Bucky at this point, Tony is so damn smart and apparently Bucky has been underestimating him, too. And apparently, Tony has been watching him back, and Bucky has no idea what to do with that.

When the asshole makes another impatient sound Tony finally deigns to look over at him, barely tearing his gaze away from Bucky long enough to flit his eyes over the man from head to foot.

“Bye,” Tony says, his tone artfully dismissive, and then goes right back to grinning up at Bucky like the other man doesn’t exist.

To Tony’s credit, his cold, superior tone has the asshole automatically taking a step backward, even as he sputters, "Dude, wh- what the fuck-"

“What part are you not getting?” Tony asks, one sharp eyebrow crawling up his forehead as he slowly turns to face the asshole again, like he’s still unconvinced that the man is worth the effort. ”He was looking for someone, now he’s found me,“ Tony continues as he smoothly fits himself under Bucky’s arm, ”no part of this has anything to do with you, so you can go ahead and leave now."

Bucky can’t quite bite down his laugh when the drunk man sputters dumbly again, and the tiny grin that Tony flashes up at him has Bucky’s heartbeat doing truly concerning things in his chest. But he’s not thinking about that, just like he’s not thinking about the way his arm has automatically fallen around Tony’s shoulders, the way Tony fits perfectly against his side.

“L-Listen here, you little-” the asshole stutters and then trails off, his face going scarlet as he seems to notice all of the people staring at them.

"Little what?" Tony asks coldly, the look on his face just daring the asshole to come up with something that Tony hasn’t been called before. Bucky is equal parts impressed, enraged at his employer all over again, and trying his best not to be completely smitten.

The asshole’s face is nearly purple as his eyes dart from side to side, taking note of the increasing number of people watching them with open interest and amusement.

“Fuck this,” he grumbles and finally starts to back away, deciding to save what little face he has left in front of this crowd of college douchebags. He apparently has to try and get the last word though, because as he turns he shoots Bucky a final glare he loudly mutters “I could do better anyways.”

“Doubt it!” Tony calls after him gleefully, and the on-looking crowd laughs. Then he turns his bright grin up at Bucky, and oh, fuck.

Bucky is so fucking fucked.

“Do you want to get out of here, now?” Tony asks, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” Bucky groans instantly and emphatically, all thoughts of his imminent unemployment momentarily forgotten in the force of his relief over getting to leave.

Being caught by Tony is the least of the rules he’s broken, but he can worry about that later, or maybe never. It’s not like anyone needs to know that he’s been slowly but surely failing the first rule of bodyguarding over months of catching glimpses of the real Tony. Except Tony might know, because he’s been watching Bucky back.

And Tony is still grinning smugly as he starts to drag Bucky out of the bar with his arm still looped comfortably around Bucky’s waist, staying plastered to his side. Bucky has no idea if it’s necessary or not, he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony to see if the asshole is still hanging around.

He does spare the most fleeting thought for the trucker hat douche that Tony was flirting with before, but that’s only to think that at least this mess is getting Tony away from that asshole. Tony deserves so much better, of that Bucky is sure, he’s had way too much time to think about it while watching Tony flirt with every type of douchebag.

Once they’re out in the cool night air Bucky drags in his first deep breath in what feels like hours, relishing in the slightly less disgusting smells of the city. At least there’s less old-vomit smell.

When Tony snickers Bucky looks over at him again, honestly not sure what to make of the teasing, knowing smile on Tony’s face.

”So, where to now?“ Tony asks innocently, like he’s not still actively throwing Bucky’s life into chaos.

”Off to look for a new job, probably,“ Bucky grumbles, but he can’t actually force any annoyance into his voice. It’s not like he actually likes this job, after all, but…

He’ll probably never see Tony again, once he’s fired, and that thought sends a sharp pang through his chest that Bucky is trying not to think about too hard. Tony is still staring up at him as they start to aimlessly wander down the sidewalk, apparently trusting Bucky not to run them into any street signs, and Bucky is trying not to think about that either.

”Why?“ Tony asks, sounding genuinely confused, and then he pouts as he adds, ”I can go back to pretending not to notice you, is that more fun? Little weird, big-time stalker vibes, but I can work with that.“

Bucky huffs out a laugh, then raises an eyebrow as he asks, ”“S that what you’re into? That why you haven’ ditched me yet, like all th’ others?”

“Give yourself some credit,” Tony says, patting his side, “I did try at first, but you’re hard to shake. Plus, you’re much cuter than the rest of them were.”

Bucky tears his eyes away from Tony’s teasing, flirty grin, looking back down the dark street and trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. ”Maybe I’m jus’ sick of bein’ dragged to college bars,“ he says after a pause that’s probably tellingly long.

”Okay,“ Tony says agreeably, and when Bucky looks over at him in surprise, he finds Tony grinning up at him with an almost hopeful look in his eyes as he asks, ”How do you feel about burgers?“

Bucky finds himself trailing to a stop, still staring at Tony, who stopped right along with him and is now watching with a nervous little smile, like maybe he thinks the ‘better’ that he deserves is somehow Bucky.

For a second all Bucky can do is stare, his mouth gone completely dry. He has to lick his lips, watching Tony’s clever gaze track the motion, before he can croak out, “Seems like I’m gonna be fired for a different reason.”

Tony laughs, delighted, and starts leading him down the street again as he asks, ”What are you talking about? What better place to guard me from than up close and personal?“

Bucky is pretty sure that the elder Stark would not agree with that statement, but like hell is he going to be the one to point that out. He knows this is probably a terrible idea, and he’s definitely going to get fired for this sooner or later, but with any luck, it won’t be the last time he sees Tony.

”So, burgers?“ Bucky asks as he tightens his arm a little more around Tony’s shoulders, and when Tony smiles wider Bucky finally lets himself acknowledge the way it makes his heart flip over itself in his chest.

[yukidragon]

You ever consider bringing back slasher couple Alice and Jack? I think about them a lot.

New hotels on the run, with a dead couple lying on the floor of their new room. Poisoned yogurts for rude customers at a new job. New fertilized forget-me-nots behind a picket fence with the bodies of a man who tried hitting on Alice.

That sort of thing.

I'm happy you enjoyed the Slasher AU so much! Those are some pretty fun and twisted ideas you have for it~! I haven't touched on this one for a while, but after listening to this really good Jeff the Killer rewrite by Pastra, I'm in a pulpy creepypasta killer kind of mood, so let's play a little, shall we?

Content Warnings: there will be talk of sex and violence like a good old classic 80's slasher film. I likely won't go too explicit on the gore, but maybe the spice if the mood takes me. This post is just an excuse to talk about two very twisted individuals being in love as they indulge in their darker desires.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

As you might recall from my previous post on the topic, the tale of Alice and Jack in this universe is a twist on the classic slasher movie formula. Main character and "final girl" Alice winds up being corrupted to give in to her darker impulses by Jack, who has already fallen to his inner depravity after decades being trapped in hell.

The story ended with all of Jack's rivals and targets of revenge dead and LambsWork Productions burned to the ground. What's left now?

Why, help his sunshine finish getting her revenge while they hide from the authorities of course.

Yes, there were awful customers and co-workers ripe for the picking, as well as a shameless exploitive boss, but Alice has been bullied all her life. She has a list of people who she's wanted revenge on for a long time, and Jack has encouraged her to get that revenge no matter how long it takes.

This means that even people who long since forgot the kid they used to bully in kindergarten have a target on their backs.

And they deserve it, in Jack's not so humble opinion. Anyone who tries to hurt or steal his sunshine deserves to pay. Alice had to deal with the scars for so long, and he knows what it's like to suffer for years and years haunted by the memory of abusers who got off scot free.

As far as everyone is aware, Alice was among the many victims of the mysterious killer that swept through the area. Even her family believes that she's dead, but it's for the best. They're innocent. Alice stayed away from them after moving out because she was afraid of hurting them. It would be so easy to kill someone so defenseless as a family who loves and trusts her...

Jack nurtures his twisted justifications for these sadistic urges in Alice. It's deemed acceptable to slowly skin someone begging for their life if they were guilty of casual cruelty to either of them. It helps keep guilt at bay and warps their perception of reality.

With Alice's knowledge of modern technology and how things have changed, and Jack silver tongue capable of manipulating most people, the pair are difficult for authorities or anyone else trying to stop them to track.

Of course, after the final battle with Shaun at LambsWork, Alice needed to take time to heal from her injuries... or perhaps a little bit more than that.

In classic horror movie twist, the monster survived at the end. Jack had managed a ritual to bring himself back... and imagine how much worse he would be mentally if he had to bring back Alice as well.

Shaun was fighting for his life after all. It came down to him or Alice, who he was sure was the killer. Kill or be killed, and if Jack didn't manage to save her in time...

I'm reminded of the now sadly removed trailer for the game where Shaun is losing it, saying what he's doing feels wrong. Imagine if he got enough evidence to suspect Alice of being the killer, and caught hints of something dangerous and supernatural around her. Imagine his paranoia and fear ramping up to the point that he's scared of her, convinced that she's possessed by some great evil.

Imagine how much it would hurt Alice if this happened before she had fallen under the sway of Jack's temptations.

Being betrayed by a friend certainly could push anyone over the edge....

Then again, being stalked by an ex-boyfriend or a customer can also be enough of a tipping point to commit violence. It'd just be especially personal to have Shaun "betray" her after all he did for her when Ian betrayed her by cheating on her. Who can Alice even really trust?

Why, Jack, of course~! He certainly proves it by using the same ritual that allowed to come back to life to bring her back as well. Fortunately this ritual goes a lot better than the one Alice performs in the Bad End AU. She gets to come back whole and healthy with a new lease on life.

Everyone believes Alice is dead, there were even witnesses who saw her broken lifeless body.

Man... imagine if Shaun actually did somehow survive the incident at LambsWork and how much trauma he would have from killing Alice, as well as all the deaths that happened around him. It'd be worse if he realized that Jack was influencing her and was the true serial killer only after he had been forced to act. Who would ever believe him that a ghost was the true killer? There were witnesses who saw Alice already dead while the killings were still happening. She was just another innocent victim...

Though, really, if Shaun did manage to kill Alice, Jack wouldn't have let him live. Jack would've lost his ever loving mind seeing his sunshine, dead and lifeless, her beautiful warm life snuffed out before his eyes.

Of course, Shaun could have somehow managed to escape. Jack wouldn't be thinking clearly in that situation, which would make him sloppy, leaving openings for Shaun to exploit and believe he managed to somehow defeat Jack.

Gosh, there are so many possibilities with this AU, so many twists in the slasher horror movie formula to take.

If Shaun did survive that awful night, he'd be struggling with major PTSD, terrified that Jack will return to finish the job.

Of course, if Shaun survived, that just means that after Jack brings his sunshine back to life, they'll both be plotting ways to get sufficient revenge on Shaun.

Alice would have the supernatural slasher powers now too, similar to Jack - undead and dangerous. She would have an axe to grind, being betrayed by her best friend who murdered her.

Jack, ever sensitive to his sunshine's needs, would of course help her burning desire for revenge. He would certainly have plenty of ideas on how to prolong Shaun's suffering to appropriately punish him for murdering Alice.

So the sequel movie could either be Shaun having to deal with people around him getting killed and taunts from supernatural slashers, or just a romp of a road trip with Jack and Alice going around to settle old scores. It all depends if Shaun survives the first movie or not. Poor guy is in for an awful time either way.

Since I'm starting to feel bad for picking on Shaun for just trying to make it out alive, let's switch over to other slasher targets the twisted couple go after.

I loved the fertilizer idea, but since Alice is the one with more experience gardening, I think she's the one more likely to come up with that idea. She can use the bodies of people who hit on Jack. There'll be plenty of those to keep her flowers healthy forever. Jack is such a handsome man after all, and so many people lust after him now that he has a living body again.

Jack kind of finds it kind of cute that Alice gets so crazy jealous over him. She's so silly thinking anyone could steal him away from her. As if that could ever happen. He always makes sure to reassure her with sweet words and lovemaking after she's vented her frustration on her perceived rival.

I imagine Jack would also find it pretty sexy. Nothing turns a psycho on like watching his lover torture someone for the sake of keeping him all to herself~

Jack understands how Alice feels of course. He goes crazy when someone sets their sights on her. She doesn't even notice when someone flirts with her most of the time, but he still hates it. Mentally destroying the culprit before killing them in creative ways is cathartic for him. It's also a way he can show Alice just how much he loves her~!

If Alice did die, Jack's overprotectiveness would crank up a lot. He failed to protect her, his irreplaceable sunshine. It was fortunate that he could bring her back, just like he brought himself back, but he was forced to see her body, lifeless, broken. He was forced to live with the fear that she was gone for good.

Jack is a lot more possessive and handsy with Alice in public after that. He'll carry her around a lot more often, feeling secure having his sunshine in his arms. He takes the lead with their kills, making sure that he's the one taking the risks instead of her, so that nothing can happen to her ever again.

Of course, Alice doesn't like Jack risking himself recklessly. She wants them both to be together forever~

To the people around them, Jack is an incredibly clingy boyfriend. One minute the new neighbors are talking with Alice, the next Jack is wrapped around her from behind, whining that he missed her as he nuzzles his face into her hair. Even though he was just moving boxes into the house only a literal minute ago.

Alice laughs fondly at Jack's antics before squeaking in surprise as he picks her up into his arms. She admonishes him, but without any real weight to it, and tries to wrap up the conversation, flustered. Jack is fine chatting with the new neighbors like this though.

Why, yes, they are crazy for each other, and are very happy together. Thanks for noticing~!

The pair seem so wholesome and sweet, almost sickeningly sappy. Jack is so silly and such a sucker for Alice that even his size, build, and tattoos aren't enough to make people feel intimidated by him for long. He's so gosh darn friendly, and Alice is so cute and easily flustered.

They are sappy even in private too... even in less than wholesome circumstances.

I got this image of the pair in a room, maybe in their home maybe elsewhere. After having finished a long, busy night, the two are in the bathroom getting cleaned up. Alice sits on the counter, carefully shaving the stubble from Jack's face as he savors the attention. They have a sweet and silly conversation, but annoying noises from the other room keep interrupting them.

Halfway through the shave, Alice snaps the razorblade free and throws it into the other room, resulting in a muffled scream. She feigns as though it was an accident, that she merely "slipped" because all the noise from their guest distracted her. Jack chuckles and remarks they probably shouldn't keep their guest waiting anymore.

However, as Jack turns to go take care of things, Alice catches him by the chin and gently turns him back to her, cooing that they can wait until she's done taking care of him. Jack just melts at her insistence to take care of him and cheerfully tells their guest that they're just going to have to be patient a bit longer~!

Alice adds too that she has plenty of fresh razor blades to get the job done, a subtle threat of what will happen if the noises continue. With that she goes back to finishing the shave with a fresh razor blade and making Jack feel so loved and understood.

Overall, the vibe of these two would be like a more twisted Gomez and Morticia. They're as sweet on each other as they are in Sunshine in Hell, but only to each other. With everyone else the kindness is fake, and they've lost the ability to care about the suffering of anyone but each other.

Slasher Alice and Jack don't target at random, but their criteria for targets does involve a lot of disproportionate retribution. The neighbors are safe as long as they remain friendly... but not too friendly.

Alice and Jack are not just slashers, they're also very, very yandere for each other. Woe be it to anyone who tries to separate them.

Really, it's fitting that Jeff the killer would fuel this ramble considering this sort of slasher couple self-indulgence would fit right into the creepypasta OC craze. This AU is basically all about a couple of fucked up killers finding joy in taking brutal, bloody revenge. Victims are not people but toys to play with until they break. It's very creepypasta OC-coded.