#despite there being no evidence to back it up

[be-good-be-safe-be-kind]

"you're just a coping mechanism"

well, yeah, but so is everyone else. 'miranda' herself is another introjection of daddy as well as a collection of the underground's uncertainty and (self)doubt and desire to give up and give in. she poses as the 'true primary,' the only one who could possibly know and understand what they need, but she is (self)destructive, forcing alters into dormancy under the guise of helping the girl, when all she is doing is putting everyone in harm's way. (side note that while the writers got jane to swim out of the well, leaving miranda there and dormant was a good choice. baby doll and katy not so much, since their 'deaths' were via the candlemaker rather than an internal decision, but it tracks with how the series handles these things so whatever). her initial arguments sound logical, as the real miranda was primary before jane, and carries additional baggage besides for the years of experience, so she would be able to help - if she was actually miranda.

ironically, 'miranda' has proven to be of some use to the girl's confidence and healing, just not in the way she intended. in a monumental act of role reversal, kay stands up for jane. love how most of the underground are ready to confront 'miranda' and help jane get back to the surface, and especially how kay is assertive and holding her ground. she looks around to make sure she is not alone, is visibly, reasonably nervous, but she does not move and that is incredible. she does not refute the 'afraid' remark - it would only serve as provocation for 'miranda' anyway - but keeps the focus on 'alone' and how wrong 'miranda' is to make that statement. jane's face clearly displays her relief and shock as the underground rallies around her, which is so bittersweet. after decades of being primary and recent months discovering new aspects to the underground, jane's mentality of doing the important external work that gets overlooked by those who primarily operate on the inside reflects that. she still expects to be on her own, despite evidence to the contrary, and watching alters who usually keep quiet literally backing her up is overwhelming.

“You can’t undo this, Jane. I’m the true Primary. You’re just a coping mechanism.” 

DOOM PATROL - 3x01 “Possibilities Patrol”

[aureatelys]

like cherries in the spring

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 4k bc i cant stop myself

content warnings: 18+ PLEASE MDNI, porn without plot, consensual somnophilia (mentions of discussing it beforehand), intercrural sex sorta, thigh fucking sorta idk what to call it but thats close enough, brief v fingering, eventual p in v, light dom/sub undertones because thats who i am, light bondage (being held down), light choking (just a hand on your throat), unprotected sex, no y/n, established relationship, employee/boss relationship duh, self indulgent <3

summary:

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

read on ao3 here or below <3333

You were barely conscious when you felt something poking your butt.

You try to blink awake, immediately blinded by the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. For a second, you think you’re still in Los Angeles with the California heat making your clothes stick to your back, working on a kidnapping case, which means you need to get up and get ready fast.

However, someone stirs behind you, and you realize you’re not in California. You’re home, in your bed, and being spooned by Aaron.

You try not to sigh in relief so as not to disturb him. He needs the rest, obviously, based on the fact that Aaron tends to get up like clockwork at 8 in the morning, even on his days off. You crane your neck to check the clock on your bedside table. Nearly 9:30 in the morning.

You’re almost tempted to wake him up, knowing that Aaron will be secretly annoyed and feeling like he slept the day away, but then you remember how late it was when you got in last night. The team just got done with a case in a Los Angeles suburb and decided to fly back home despite how late it was, which meant that it was really late when you finally made it back home. You distantly remember leaning on Aaron’s shoulder, trying not to fall asleep standing up, and him grunting for everyone to take the following day off and hearing everyone let out a tired cheer. You weren’t able to sleep on the jet, envious at everyone else’s ability to take a nap as soon as they closed their eyes, and kept Aaron company while he finished his notes.

You remember sitting across from him, the glow of the reading light shining on him with his head ducked over his files. He was clearly exhausted just like everyone else, evident by the bags underneath his eyes and the way he attempted to hide his yawn every couple of minutes, but you know that he always makes an effort to try and finish the paperwork the same day while the case was still fresh on his mind.

You had a book open in front of you, long forgotten, as you rested your chin in your palm and stared at your boyfriend.

He glances up at you every now and then and shakes his head to himself, smile on his face, when you make no move to stop staring almost dreamily. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, even when he’s running on 4 hours of sleep.

“Ridiculous,” he had muttered, feigning annoyance, however you felt him knock his feet against yours underneath the table. Something warm settles in your chest at that.

You remember stumbling into Aaron’s apartment, through the living room, and falling face first into the bed. You hadn’t even bothered to change into your pajamas, but you were just too tired to care, evident by passing out as soon as your face hit the pillow.

It didn’t matter now, however, as you felt Aaron’s body pressed up against yours, so warm it was nearing unbearable. You felt his soft exhales against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and the beginning line of his morning wood poking your ass. You felt the soft comforter brush against your bare legs and realize that Aaron must have changed you in your sleep, leaving you in your panties and a tank top.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling utter want tugging at the bottom of your stomach. It had been a couple of days since you guys had done anything, even with the shared hotel room. Working on a kidnapping case in a shitty hotel with thin walls didn’t really set the mood, no matter what anyone said. Sure, you and Aaron were able to sneak in some heated kisses and touches, but never more than that before both of you were falling asleep with case files and medical reports at the foot of the bed.

You carefully pushed your hips back against him, feeling his cock twitch against you. Aaron shifted, throwing his arm over your waist, however his breathing was still deep and heavy. He was usually a light sleeper, a result of the job, so him not waking up from that must mean he was more tired than he let on.

You’re still groggy, but an idea slowly forms in your head. Of course, you two didn’t get the chance to discuss this last night, but you distantly remember a conversation several weeks ago where you told Aaron you wouldn’t mind too much if he woke you up by touching you or going down on you and whether he would be interested in you doing the same to him.

He had given you a look so dark, pupils blown and a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, that you wanted to drop to your knees right there in the kitchen.

Instead, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of your head and mutter a “Some other time, dirty girl.”

Now seems like the perfect time.

You move your hips back again, relishing in the way you can feel Aaron’s cock grow bigger, harder. You wiggle and let out a breathy sigh when you feel him migrate to between your ass cheeks. It’s not enough and definitely not close enough to where you really want him, but it feels good. Dirty, just like Aaron had said.

You move up on the bed a little more, careful not to stir too much, lifting your hips from the bed a bit until his clothed cock was between your thighs and pressed right against your pussy.

You moan at that, clenching your thighs when you feel that familiar throbbing in your cunt, wishing he was already inside of you.

But this feels good too. Two layers of clothes between Aaron’s thick cock and your wet pussy. You start to move your hips against him, breathless at the way the head of his cock barely grazes your clit. You can feel the wet spot undoubtedly forming on your panties, your wetness helping his cock glide against you.

You feel yourself get carried away, chasing the small sparks of pleasure running up your spine just from feeling the girth of his cock against your hole, when you feel Aaron’s arm that’s draped over you move.

You freeze, though you’re not sure why, it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, when you feel his hand come up to grope at your breast over your top.

You hear him hum, still breathing warm air against your neck, and feel him somehow press closer against you. You wait for him to say something, either teasing you for being so horny and rubbing up against him or wordlessly tugging his briefs down to press his cock against where you need him, but there’s nothing.

He’s still asleep.

You exhale in relief, ignoring the nagging thought in your brain saying why are you into this, you freak, but then Aaron’s hand on your breast starts moving, just barely groping.

You’ve known that Aaron has always been a touchy guy behind closed doors, always hungry and wanting to be close to you wherever he got a chance. He’s said it’s because he loves your body and not being able to touch you at work drives him crazy, and you can tell he’s telling the truth from the way his jaw clenches when you lean over his desk to hand him a file or the look he gives you when you cross your legs sitting across from him on the jet and your skirt rides up.

At home, you let him have your fill. He’s constantly groping your tits, pinching at your nipples. He’s grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing, and grabbing your hips so hard he leaves bruises. He has a hand on the back of your neck and pushing your face into the mattress or wrapping his large hand at the base of your throat, putting light pressure as if a reminder of who you belong to. He loves touching you and you clearly don’t mind, however you’re seriously wondering how obsessed he is with your body if he can touch and grope you in his sleep.

He's squeezing your breast and canting his own hips against you. You feel his cock twitch again and the wet spot he must be leaving through his briefs drags against you and your thigh. You bite your lip at that, unsure whether Aaron was about to wake up or not.

You feel his hand move from your breast to your abdomen, fingers just barely brushing over your nipple, making you almost jump, and wrap his arm around your middle. You hear him grunt, something masculine and deep that makes you want to lose your mind, and feel him thrust into you, rutting into you like he can’t control himself.

You whimper at the feeling of being constricted, imagining Aaron’s veins popping out of his forearms. Not caring whether he’ll wake up, you reach down to pull at his briefs just enough so his cock pops free. You sigh at the feeling of hot flesh against your thigh and your mouth waters when you feel precum leaking down the head of his cock, smearing on your panties and thighs.

You wait and strain your ears to listen to Aaron’s breathing. Somehow, it’s still steady.

You’re starting to get impatient, just about to throw this all away and wake him up to sink down on him, but then you feel his bare cock press against your hole through your panties and it just feels so good. You know that if Aaron wakes up, he’s going to want to fuck you fast and hard and honestly, you’re having a lot of fun teasing yourself.

He stops humping into you, the arm around your middle relaxing, and he grumbles a bit and presses his face against the nape of your neck. His breath tickles you.

You start moving your own hips again, just barely, enough to feel the slow drag of his cock against your clit through your panties. They must be absolutely soaked through right now and you desperately wish you could just take them off without waking Aaron up and press the head of him into you, stretching you out. A sweat starts to break out on your back and on your neck and Aaron’s body heat, naturally running warmer than you, isn’t helping but you don’t care.

You hear a sharp inhale, a particular deep thrust against your pussy, and then a “What do you think you’re doing?”

You freeze, feeling like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar and not like you were humping desperately against your boyfriend like a teenager. “Uhm.”

His left arm moves up from where he was still wrapped around you, brushing purposefully against your nipples and making you whine, to wrap his hand around the base of your throat. He doesn’t put any pressure, but just the weight of his hand is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“I said,” he whispers, exhaling against your ear. He thrusts his hips once against you, making his cock slide against you better in a way you could never replicate. “What are you doing?”

You swallow, unsure on how you want to play this. The low deep rasp of his voice this early in the morning always sends you reeling. “Nothing.”

Aaron hums and the grip he has on you tightens just a bit before he’s trailing down your chest. This time, he flicks your left nipple, making you jump and bite your lip at the same time, and moving down past your stomach and to your pussy. “This doesn’t feel like nothing, honey.”

His hand traces the waistband of your panties and the curve of your hips. The callouses on his fingers are rough, but familiar, making you squirm against him. Aaron hisses at that and it’s like he finally snaps as he reaches between your legs and roughly pulls your panties to the side to thrust his cock against your bare cunt, hips slamming into yours.

“In fact, it feels like you’re being a dirty girl, rubbing up on me like you can’t help yourself.”

Your gasp morphs into a moan when you feel the head of his cock finally brushing your swollen clit, no clothes in the way. Now you can feel how sopping wet you are, making the glide of his throbbing cock against your pussy smooth and perfect. This whole thing feels dirty, like you’re trying to take what you can get before you can get caught even though there’s no one else home with Jack being at a sleepover. The thrusting of his hips against yours to rub against your wet folds just makes you think about him fucking you into the mattress until you’re a whining mess. “Aaron…”

 “What do you want, baby?” Aaron murmurs, starting to press soft kisses behind your ear. Hearing his early morning voice again makes your insides turn into a puddle. The warmth of his body and his cologne from yesterday still barely detectable is intoxicating, making you spread your legs a little so his cock nestles deeper against your wetness. You start to move your own hips to meet his and the lewd sound of your pussy and his hips slamming into yours is so so hot.

“Please…” you whine, the words dying in your throat because your head is swimming, and you don’t know exactly what to say. You secretly hope he knows what you want—what you need.

Aaron suddenly gets up to sit on his knees and moves you with a hand on your hip so you’re laying flat on your front, face pressed into your pillow. You nearly cry at the loss of pressure against your clit, but he quickly puts a hand on the back of your head to shove your face into the pillow. He straddles your thighs, roughly moves your panties aside again to insert a thick finger inside of you.

You moan wantonly at the feeling of finally being filled, the sound muffled against the pillow. His finger goes in easily due to how wet you were, but the feeling of being stretched even just a little bit make you feel drunk.

“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” He moves his finger in and out of you fast, almost rough, but it’s still something and it can still make you come if you try really hard since you’ve been playing with yourself for what feels like hours.

You already start to feel the beginning pressure at the pit of your stomach, clenching and unclenching around just one finger. Your clit is barely getting anything out rubbing against the sheets, but you don’t even care, having been on edge for days. “Yes, yes—Aaron…”

Aaron hums casually from behind you, as if you guys were talking about the weather. “Are you going to come for me?”

You nod furiously into the pillow, moving your face to the side so you can breathe more easily. “Yes, yes, please—”

Suddenly he takes his finger out of you with a loud and vulgar noise, nearly making you scream in frustration. You’re about to yell at him, maybe even turn around and smack him on the shoulder, until you feel the head of his cock press up against your hole and then pressing in.

“Oh…,” you moan, nearly sighing in the familiar feeling of being properly filled. There’s a slight burn from that stretch you secretly love. The hand he had pressed against the back of your head migrates to the back of your neck, grabbing a hold of you so possessively it makes you squirm.

Aaron leans over you until his face is next to yours, his soft moans like music to your ears as he bottoms out. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight…”

You try to crane your neck to look at him, desperate to see his face. He has his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, most likely trying to resist immediately fucking into you. His hair is almost artfully mussed, fluffy and falling into his face. Yesterday’s stress is gone and instead is replaced with absolute desire. His other arm is pressing into the mattress so he can hold himself over you and you nearly start to drool at his bicep bulging out, the veins in his thick forearms prominent.

And as if he can feel your eyes on him, his eyes open. They’re dark and piercing, pupils nearly blown out. There’s a hint of that damn smugness in the corner of his mouth, but it smooths out into something softer around the edges when he leans in to press a closed-mouthed kiss against yours. He knows how much you hate morning breath.

The tender action makes something clench in your chest and you wonder again how you got so lucky.

All sweet thoughts fly out the window when Aaron pulls out slowly until just the head of his cock is in you. You moan at the sudden loss and squirm, knowing how much he likes seeing your hips move.

Just like you predicted, he growls and slams back into you, pressing his hips against the flesh of your ass. “So needy.”

“Aaron, please…” you beg, moving your arms from underneath you to behind you in an attempt to touch him, feel him, something.

Because Aaron is Aaron and somehow can read your mind, you feel him grab both of your wrists together in one hand to press against your back. You have no leverage now and can breathe a little easier now that he’s not pressing down on your neck, instead his other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give what my dirty girl needs,” Aaron coos, almost mockingly in the way that makes heart stutter, and then he starts fucking you so hard the breath gets knocked out of you.

He’s relentless, no more teasing and rubbing up against his cock. The grip of his fingers on your hip and wrists are tight, hopefully enough to leave bruises, as he essentially pulls you on and off his cock. He fills you out so good, hitting that spot inside of your pussy that sends sparks up your spine, making you feel like your brain is short circuiting. It’s like you can’t even think anymore, which is a normal occurrence when Aaron fucks you like this, and all you can hear is the wet sounds of your pussy, his hips slamming against yours, and moans that he’s not bothering to hide anymore.

You distantly can hear yourself begging to come, nearly screaming yourself hoarse. You’re sensitive, nearly overstimulated with the way Aaron is pounding into you, and you just want to come already. The sheets are wrapped around your thighs, barely rubbing against your clit, and it’s not enough and you arch your back the way he likes, move your hips in an effort to tell him to touch you. “Fuck, oh my God, Aaron.”

“You need me to touch you, baby?” Aaron says, breathlessly, and you know he’s close too, probably holding off until you come first because you know that’s something he likes.

He must be just as impatient as you are because he’s immediately releasing his hold on your wrists to wriggle a hand underneath you and rub your clit in a way that was delicious but almost rough, almost painful enough that it sends you over the edge.

You choke on your moan as you feel your pussy clench on his hard cock, squeezing your thighs together. Your hands find purchase clawing at the sheets underneath you, wrists tingling from where he held onto you. Your mind blanks out, empty besides the sheer bliss wracking your body. Aaron keeps fucking you, keeps flicking your clit, groaning your name and it just adds to your orgasm, nearly making you roll your eyes back into your head.

You feel him fuck you faster, harder, and you had just begun floating down from your orgasm when Aaron comes inside you with a deep and guttural moan. You’ve always loved hearing the noises he makes; how manly he sounds, how deep his voice can get, and the way he whispers your name like a prayer. The noise he makes when he comes, however, is definitely in your top 3.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” Aaron grunts, thrusting into you one last time. The hold he has on your hip is nearly painful, definitely bruising. You moan unabashedly at that and the feeling of his warm come inside of you, filling you up. You clench down on him one last time, milking him for all he’s worth, and you hear Aaron’s choked laugh behind you.

He slips out of you, and you feel his eyes on your pussy; probably swollen and absolutely a soaking mess with your wetness smeared all over your inner thighs. He hums, finally satisfied, at the sight of his come dripping out of your cunt, dripping down your slit and onto the sheets. You feel his thumb come and trace your hole, gentle, but making you squirm nonetheless at how sensitive you are and sending a shock through you. His hand is on your hip again, squeezing in a warning, silently telling you to take it.

And you do, keening softly when you feel the rough pad on his thumb brush your clit, smearing his come around. You always had an inkling that Aaron was dirty, with his domineering voice and the way he so easily takes control of a room when he walks in, but you were in for a rude awakening when you both finally stopped dancing around each other.

You hear Aaron inhale sharply when you clench and unclench, probably pushing more wetness out onto the sheets, and you almost brace yourself for his cock to press against your hole again when you feel the bed dip and Aaron getting up to the bathroom to help clean you up. You’re only slightly disappointed, but then remember it’s not even noon and you got the rest of the day left. You bring your arms to cross and rest your head on them while you wait, smiling to yourself as the languid relaxation seeps into your bones the way only getting fucked out of your mind does.

Aaron is tender and gentle while he cleans you up. Underneath all the stoic and cold demeanor, Aaron has always been a huge softie and loves taking care of you, no matter the occurrence. You feel that care when there’s large hands and a towel, warm on your thighs, your hips, your ass as he presses his lips to the bottom of your spine. You feel the barely there scratch of his stubble and hum.

When he’s done, he crawls up the mattress to his spot and settles down with a huff. He immediately is wrapping around you, flinging his arm and leg over you to pull you in closer as you laugh. Your face is pressed against his chest, flushed pink, and you impulsively press a kiss there against the wiry hair. You feel him kiss the top of your head, no doubt smiling because he secretly loves the attention you give him.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, so soft in a way that makes you want to wiggle further into him.

Instead, you push back a bit to look up at him where he’s already watching you, eyes affectionate. Your legs are tangled with his, hips pressed against each other’s despite knowing how sweaty he is. His mouth, usually in that straight line, has softened, and the sight of his bedhead and relaxed brow makes you want to spend the next week touching him all over. His cock pressed against your thigh, half-hard, tells you that may be possible.

“Perfect,” you say, and then you push at his shoulder until he flops on his back, gazing up at you almost reverently as you climb on top of him to straddle his hips.

One of his hands wander up your thighs until he settles on your hip. His hair falls into his face, his eyes still drowsy but the hunger plain as day. He brings his other arm to rest above his head, against the pillows, in a clear show of his muscles that makes your mouth water. He looks devastatingly handsome and just so hot, it’s really not fair.

“Good morning,” he says, casually, as if you’re not quietly losing your mind.

You give him a devilish grin and push your hips back until you can feel the head of his cock against you, already hard and leaking precum against your ass. Satisfaction curls up your spine when his small smile falters and his jaw clenches. You lean down, knowing that he loves the feeling of your breasts pushing against his chest and nipples dragging, until you’re hanging your lips right above his.

“A very good morning, it is.”

[verdantwyrm]

On that topic though, I would like to touch more on the subject of Jimmy being also a victim to himself. I fear this might anger a lot of people, but Jimmy is an almost exact perfect example of someone with BPD (As someone with it myself) and how his spiralling is directly tied to Curly.

The game never once insinuates that Jimmy is like this because he's mentally ill, the line of him having it "hard" back on earth doesn't mean anything either, but it also means a lot coming from Curly. Curly is a representative of a Favorite person, and everything Jimmy did in the game, who he hurt, how he did it and the language he used, is very close to how real-life people with BPD sometimes treat their own FPs and the people around them.

They become erratic, jealous, driven by fear, apologetic, desperate and cling to everything and everything. Jimmy insults Curly, twists his words and makes him out the be the villain, he drives everyone away from him at the birthday party and spends months feeding lies to the others that Curly is the one that crashed the ship despite this lie not actually really benefitting Jimmy all that much in the long run.

Jimmy wanted to kill everyone on the ship, he could have lied and instead said that it was simply a fault of the ship, a miscalculation, an accident. Instead, he took every opportunity to make Curly out to be the one who ultimately decided that this was the best way to go about it, and then also blamed it on Curly's mental health dropping after being fired.

This is all extremely elaborate, and a very difficult lie to keep up with, as almost everyone on that ship has plenty of reasons to believe otherwise that Curly didn't crash the ship. What with Anya's psych eval of him being "the same as usual" and being sane enough to continue doing his job. Anya also trusted Curly enough to tell him about the pregnancy, and to also tell him about the gun. And even though it's not very well expressed in the game (possibly intentional since we are seeing through Jimmy's eyes.) She does trust Curly, and she probably continued to trust him even when all was wrong around her.

And Daisuke also has no real reason to distrust Curly, we don't know much about their relationship, but there was definitely a sense of trust and reliability between the both of them. This is also evident through Swansea and Curly, where Curly trusts him enough to hold onto the axe, despite being told to return it to the case as everything has to constantly run through him. He was taking risks, he was terrified of being abandoned, left behind in Curly's shadow. He was having fits of rage, outbursts of suicidal thoughts and harm to himself and to those around him.

Jimmy twisted and kept twisting that knife in an attempt to turn away everyone from Curly even when he was at his lowest to isolate and to make him cling to the only thing he had left; Jimmy.

This adds even more to Curly's eventual condition, being completely reliant on Jimmy, being completely subject to his will and power. And something that he even admitted to liking, he likes power. And he likes that the circumstances given, might not have turned out the best way, it gave Jimmy that power over Curly. Something he had been climbing for a long time, and something he so desperately wanted because he was sick and tired of hearing just how fantastic he was at something Jimmy wasn't.

And yet, despite all of this, Jimmy praised Curly. He hated how much he adored him, hated how much he idolised him. And even at the end of it all, his main focus was just Curly, making him out to be the hero of the story despite spending such a long time attempting to make him out to be the villain.

And then even further to make the situation out to be that he was also the hero of the story, that all of his actions were justified to some degree because it was all for Curly. He fixed it, he fixed everything for Curly. Because despite what he did to Anya, Swanse and Daisuke, his only real concern behind all of it was Curly.

Every hallucination leads to him, every goal, every path. He was so concerned with him, that even when it was directly in his face, the only apology he ever muttered was to Curly. Using Anya's words.

Our worst moments don't make us monsters.

Jimmy is a victim of only himself and the consequences of his own actions, and he is by far one of the better, unintentional examples of BPD.

[hoshiros]

—✯ R U MINE?

AM Masterlist

cw. 18+ mdni. gen "just the tip" narumi, afab!reader. no condoms, lap sitting, dry humping, biting/marking, creampie, teasing, p→v sex, lots of swearing, attempts at humour lol...

NARUMI GEN has been ignoring you for six hours and thirty-four minutes.

In the time since you've arrived to his room, you've taken a nap, had some yakisoba, brushed your teeth, went on a nice doom scroll, and gotten back into bed.

And Gen... has barely looked in your direction, let alone spoken to you.

Had you known that buying him the DLC for his all-time favourite title would lead to you being abandoned, you would have gotten him something more practical—a new comforter, or multivitamins, or condoms, for goodness sake.

But here you are, dangling off the edge of his futon with blood rushing to your head. In your haziness, you can just make out his body filtering the light of his console. The soft sounds of the game fill the room, driving you to the brink of insanity.

"Gen," you whine quietly from the bed, watching him shuffle in his spot on the floor to crack his stiff back. "Come to bed."

"A couple more minutes," he huffs, turning around on his knees so you can see his chest. "Almost done."

Even with his promise, his attention never leaves the screen, the blue light cast onto his face making the circles under his eyes all the more evident. You pout, leering at his console, then him.

The noise that leaves you is indignant, irritation rising into your throat until it wills you to slip off the futon. Gen's eyes briefly flicker up to scrutinize you when you thud unceremoniously onto the floor, but then he pays you no mind while you shuffle over to him on your hands and knees.

"You're a jerk," you murmur, ducking under his arms to snake your way against his body. He grunts but lets you wiggle your way into his arms anyway, holding the console up high so you can't obstruct it.

"And you're clingy," he jabs back, though his words are devoid of malice.

He adjusts you carefully so that he can wrap his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder to see his screen. Your arms wrap around his neck until you're snug against him, finally warm and comfortable in his lap.

Your satisfaction lasts about three minutes. Again, he's ignoring you even though you're cradled against him.

You resort to desperate measures.

It starts with an adjustment that makes his eyes narrow. At first, it's subtle—the slightest roll of your hips and the faintest of friction as you settle deeper into his lap.

Gen can't tell if it's on purpose, the way you're so perfectly grinding against his dick that's getting hard at an alarming rate for what could be no reason.

Then, it's clear as day what your intention is when you release your hug around his neck to favour raking your nails down his chest with a sultry look.

His hand flies from his joycon to your waist, lip wobbling to give away his weak conviction as he scolds you. "Quit that," he hisses quietly.

The pads of his fingers roughly squeeze at your flesh, trying to force your body into submissive immobility. Still, you double down, gently sinking into the divot of his lap and keening into him.

"I'm lonely," you say, words so breathless that he can hardly hear them over his game. He shivers, and the expression he gives you sends a lick of heat down your spine.

You can't decipher whether he wants to be stern or if he wants to beg for just one more delicious swirl of your hips—perhaps both, though the words seem stuck in his throat either way. You smile sweetly knowing how easy he is to have.

Despite everything, Gen loves the simplicity of being yours.

He doesn't need to think twice. In fact, he'd rather be mauled to pieces by a Kaiju than do anything but be yours. That's why he gives in so easily—setting down the console so fast that he doesn't even save his progress.

Gen barely gets halfway through his complaint, muttering about how you'll be the death of him, when your lips find the front of his throat. "Shit," he curses, both hands roaming up your sides. He stops at your ribs, giving you a look of disapproval.

"Play fair," he warns.

"I am playing fair," you argue, then proceed to nudge his jaw with your nose. He sucks in a sharp breath as you pepper kisses up his jaw to the space just below his ear, not missing even a centimetre of his skin.

Gritting his teeth, he does everything he can to not give in to you right away. It would be totally lame for him to fall for your little ploy.

"Gen... Gen," you chant his name softly between pants, kisses littered down his neck until you reach his Adam's apple. It bobs violently as you linger there, silently considering how you should torment him next.

His warm hands dip down to where your thighs meld into your hips, unfurling the bottom of your shirt so he can feel the expanse of skin beneath the pads of his fingers.

Gen wastes no time tracing over your sides up to your chest. He's shameless in his grabbing and pinching, making sure to remember every inch of your body as if that would give him control of the situation back.

You draw in a slow breath, curling into his touch until he can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. He reaches for the console, the screen dim now that he's been inactive.

"Need to save," he grumbles.

He feels the smooth plastic of his joycon for only a millisecond before his hand flies back to your hip. The reason? He's about to do something as humiliating as cum in his pants because of a little dry humping.

"Did you get it?" You ask breathlessly, feeling the hardness in his sweats pressed firmly against you. 

"Yup," he lies, rutting into you like a teenager who can't control himself. "Totally."

Gen is going to lose it, actually. He can feel every bit of self-control slipping. (Though, he's never been good at it in the first place.)

“I want you.”

Each word is interrupted by another press of your lips against his warm skin up to his tight jaw.

"Ran out of condoms, you know that. You try’na kill me?" Gen asks with a dry swallow, patience wearing thin as you kiss the corner of his lips.

“I want you,” you say once more into his mouth as if it were a spell being cast. “Need you. Please? Just a bit? You can pull out, baby.” You wiggle your hips side to side, gently coaxing him into giving you just an inch.

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

It's embarrassing how fast he frees his dick from the constraints of his pants and boxers, as if he were just waiting for you to ask politely. If you didn't look as riled up as he did, you probably would have called him out on it.

Thank god you're too busy panting into his mouth as he clumsily helps you out of your shorts to leave your bottom bare in his lap.

The tip of his dick kisses your hole and he groans, eyes glued to the way you wet him with so much slick. He runs his length up and down your folds, thumb pressed against the vein so nicely that the friction is electrifying.

Even so, he feels bad not making you cum at least once first. You watch in surprise as he spits into his palm and fists himself a few times, coating his member in the hopes that you'll take him easier.

The noise you make when he first pushes the head past your entrance is addicting.

You curse in sync, soft whimpers matching as he sinks shallowly into you. Gen tries to speak but words fail him, so he opts to nip at your throat instead—a silent apology for not helping you cum first.

It takes a minute for you to adjust to the stretch. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses up and down the side of your neck, relishing in the tiny gasps and moans that escape you in the process.

You give his hips one firm squeeze with your thighs to tell him you're ready to move, and—

"Oh, shit," he moans, your walls squeezing him when you sink down and ride back up like you have dozens of times before. It never gets old.

He wants to move his hips, too. He wants to fuck you until you're a puddle in his lap. Then he gets the urge to cum humiliatingly early again and bites the inside of his cheek to push the thought away.

If he didn't know any better, he would think that unsatisfied look twisting in your face was nothing. However, he knows you have even less self-control than he does.

And what do you know? Gen chokes on his spit when you sink down noticeably further.

“Hah…” He laughs humourlessly, breath ghosting in your ear. “You fuckin’ asshole.”

“I slipped,” you argue weakly, dragging your hips upward until his aching tip is just about to spill out of you. Then you glide back down, and the way your pussy swallows up the extra length once again nearly makes him cry out.

“You said just the tip,” Gen warns, but the way he buries himself yet another inch deeper says it all.

“I’m not the only one who needs that reminder,” you tease, jaw falling slack as he shallowly humps into you. 

The way he fucks you is sloppy, hips rolling into yours with no real rhythm. Heat boils in his stomach, and by the time the fog clears from his heady mind, he realizes far too late that he's filled you with another inch.

Gen chokes again, groaning into your skin while he sinks his fangs into your shoulder. It's so good—too good, he can't fucking help himself.

"You're so annoying, y'know that?" He mutters. You whine high and needy in response, hands wandering up his shoulders to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair.

Screw words. He'll just tell you the only other way he knows how. Screw you and the temptation he can never resist. Screw just fucking you a little bit.

Gen loves doing things halfway, but never this. Never you.

He nudges his way up to your ear, nipping gently at the lobe. "You're in for it now."

And suddenly his hand is trailing down your stomach and between your thighs. You sputter when the pad of his thumb squeezes against your clit.

"Gen?" You squeak in surprise. He kisses his way to your cheek, lips lingering there for a moment before his thumb starts circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Shut up," he murmurs, relishing in the way his deliberate movements draw breathy pants from your throat. Your walls squeeze him deliciously, nearly milking his poor, leaky cock.

Gen was always so mean to you—it's because he could never get tired of the soft sounds spilling from your swollen lips. There was no boss fight, no new console unboxing; nothing could ever feel as good as the way your walls hug him.

He finally rolls up into your warmth, pushing and filling you up until his hips are flush against yours. The wet smack is deafening. He's so fucked. There's no way he'll be coherent enough to pull out in time.

"Look what you did," he laughs, but it comes short. Groaning instead, he buries his face against you to kiss down the valley of your chest and back up to your shoulder where he stops to bite. "How 'm I supposed to pull out now?"

Painting a picture of flooding you with his cum until you're full and leaking makes his cock throb inside of you, earning him a pleased noise. You bounce with pathetic effort, hip stopped in place with one hand while the other works you undone between your thighs.

"Don't know what I'm gonna do with you."

"Just be quiet and cum inside of me, Gen," you huff, conviction finally thrown out the window in favour of having your cunt stuffed with his spend.

"Nuh-uh. You said to pull out. You'd kick my ass later."

"I won't—" you gasp, his dick abusing a soft, spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. "I will not!"

"Nah. You asked for this."

You open your mouth to protest again, only for it to snap shut when he thrusts into you so roughly that your voice leaves you.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You glare at your boyfriend, though you look to be on the verge of tears. The sight makes him all the needier, chasing the high he knows is coming.

"Just kiddin', babe," he snickers. "I'll give you what you want."

And he does. He always does.

Gen finally releases your hip, allowing you to ride him properly. He matches your rhythm, the depth he reaches causing your knees to shake against the floor.

He fixates on the glistening ring of white at the base of his cock where your pussy swallows him up. It's too much. He loves this so much. He loves you so much.

There's only about ten things in the entire world that could make Gen put down a good game. Half of them are Kaiju related. The other half all have your name attached to them.

He gives you a look, knowing and sly as he rolls your clit gently between his fingers. That's all it takes for you to topple into his chest, shivering and squirming while you cum on his dick.

Gen only lasts another few rolls of his hips until he's spilling inside of you, shoving his face into the space between your shoulder and neck to hide his pathetic strain.

Your pulse races against his cheek. There's a sharpness in your breath as you catch it, body still trembling in his lap with every minute shift of his hips. 

His switch makes a noise to tell him his battery is low. Gen pulls away from the crook of your neck just enough to look at the blinking notification. He's just about to reach over to save when—

"More," you rasp into his ear.

His hand falters in the air, and the twitch of his cock is telling enough.

"I gotcha," he grunts, fist clenched tight as he draws it back to wrap around your back and pull you flush into his chest.

If his console dies, he has no qualms making up that six hours and thirty-four minutes of gameplay again. An easy price to pay as long as he gets to be yours.

[pipinpali]

This will have a name eventually,,

—--

1/?? — Screwed Up

TW!: blood, injury, mentions of death, language, violence

Word count ~ 1000 words

—--

Randall crawled out from beneath heap of metal scraps and junk which was supposed to be the entrance of his home; evident by the old carvings on one of the pieces of cardboard from the couple of kids that liked to follow him around.

'These storms are more of a problem than I thought,' the smallfolk bristled. He sighed, deciding to get to fixing it later, and brushing away the feeling.

He was a busy man with deals to make and suckers to cheat. With his self-built confidence, he adjusted his scarf, tugged at his socks, slicked back his hair, and brushed off his coat. Content with his look, he made his way through town.

Unfortunately, travel wasn't the easiest thing in the homey town (which Randall had never learned the name of in all of his 9 years living there), in fact, it was one of the hardest.

Randall dashed towards the exit of the dark alley, stopping abruptly before he was cast in the light of the orangey last hours of sunshine. He peeked around the corners for the beast that made him believe the "man's best friend" title was bullshit. Good thing for him, all he could see was the metal rod in the ground and the thick chains that it was usually tied to. He was relived he didn't have to climb up the old downpipe today.

There was still dangers that Randall had to face, the most important being one of those big people. Despite the charismatic smallfolk's rather impressive height of 12.7 cm, amongst giants; he was thought of like a rat.

With that in mind, Randall carefully, cautiously, stayed near the towering apartment buildings, making sure he wasn't close to the middle of the sidewalk where all the foot traffic of a couple of people here and there was. Over the half hour or two he was scampering along, there were a few close calls of almost being spotted, but he prevailed and made it to his destination.

Readying himself, Randall jumped and caught his hands on the grooves of the decorated stone which acted somewhat like a ladder for the folks that visited. He climbed -- ableit with a bit of struggle -- up the massive building, one that was home to the Bright Market, the "hot-spot for money making." Heaving himself onto the back of the large, glowing sign that read something along the lines of "Pet-ee's," he was met with familiar sight of the bustling stalls.

Randall knew where he needed to be, as did the fools who accepted his offer. Little did he know, though; that it might be his last.

He walked towards the back of market, nearing the edge of the vast roof-top, where he saw the same brute of a man sitting on a makeshift bench; the one who asked for his services in the first place.

The conman leaned against a post, eyeing the client with his usual confident gaze, the phantom of an amused smile on his face. "So, you got the bits?" He inquired.

"I've heard from a friend that you have quite the reputation, Mr. Franklin," the toned man stated with his deep, gravely voice, his fingers tracing his whiskers.

Randall bristled. He didn't tell the man his last name. Things sudden felt a lot less safe. From the corner of his eye, he could spot a handful of others nearing where they were conversing. "...I see you have," he responded, attempting to keep up his charismatic demeanor, though; the change in tone made it known that he had a good idea as to what was going on.

"...They said they wanted the money back," the man said, finally making eye contact with Randall. He sat up at an intimidating height, slowly walking up to meet Randall at just a couple inches of distance. Something was definitely wrong.

The he dared to try and dart off to the side before things got messy- being gutted in the stomach, now pinned between the wall and the brutish man's arm before he could even get two steps away.

Randall struggled to get free, his legs kicking against the other's, searching for to get back to the floor as his hand scrambling to grab at his side for his dagger which had fallen onto the floor.

His eyes widend as the man drew back his arm; fist tightened.

Shit.

...

...

...

In his blurry vision, he squinted, trying to make sense of the growing lights and the loud growl that sounded louder and louder as a silhouette became more clear--

Randall had figured out it was a car before the very second he was nearly run over. 'Those assholes tossed me on the road while I was unconscious!' he realized. Before he could get too angry about it, adrenaline buzzed in his head. He needed to get somewhere safe before something killed him.

As Randall attempted to stand, a shot of pain in his legs knocked him back to the ground. He reeled, sucking in air before he let out a strangled cry. 'Don't do that again,' he noted to himself.

Pitifully and painfully, he reached out his arms and started pulling himself through the gravely pavement, his body scraping against the rough texture as all nine of his fingers grasping and a few prayers setting him on his way.

After a while, the smallfolk's sensitive ears perked up at another noise — this time not a massive car barreling towards him — but instead, it was the stirrings of rain. It didn't take long for him to pelted with the sudden downpour.

Randall idly thought about giving up, yet the illuminating, towering street light ahead, standing out admists the dark, filled him with an odd and unfamiliar sense of hope.

He was close, he could leave this okay.

With that, the now determined and drenched smallfolk trudged through the ever growing puddles, nearing the sidewalk. He thanked the gods that there weren't any big people out at this hour.

Randall was so determined, in fact, that he didn't pick up the final noise over the rain.

The most important one.

It wasn't until the light had flickered that the little conman's focus had faltered, the instinctual reminder to scan his surroundings only now ringing in his head. His mildly articulated ears perked up at the sound of something distant, almost sounding like scraping thuds...? It was rythmatic, a set pace. And like the car, it neared closer, and became louder.

Randall almost shrieked at the sight of two giant work shoes that appeared far too early and far too close, accompanied by two impossibly long legs, arms, and... -He couldn't run, he realized, nor hide. He was at the mercy of a big person of all things.

He was screwed.

—--

Next part -> coming soon! (Hopefully)

Wowie kazowie lookie here!! Me? Writing?? Impossible!

Im planing on making more of these but this is just here for now incase

their first meeting!! First time writing something like this,,

I made a drawing before right here of the final scene ,

[redrobinsrobbingrobin]

Here is the aforementioned essay! I said I’d get it done (and my notes were pretty detailed anyway)

Dick's robin is representative of the distinction of youth culture coming to light as more kids distanced themselves from the conservative views and began questioning authority figures, during the 40s, when they questioned the actual effects and causes of war, questioned the authority behind it and the reason for not intervening earlier. Batman as a character was also introduced in this period, and is a call for social change. He is a billionaire who wants to help the lower class. He empathises with the people, he sympathises with the child that lost his parents in front of him, and death is a driving factor in both their lives. To me, this seems like a homage to the families who lot their children, their fathers, their brothers, to the war, and wanted to do and be better, to live their memory and be able to push through and help the world. Dick also puts McCarthyism into question, as he doesn't exactly obey Batman all the time, despite needing to. He questions Batman, he questions Bruce, he is rebellious and harsh, and angry, and maybe that's how he would have turned out, even without Bruce giving him a cape and weapons.he represents the beginnings of change, the start of hope after a war, the ability to raise yourself and your family above that.

Jason's post crisis character when referring to youth of the time is much like Tim's and Dick's. This was a period after wartime economy, where the majority of the population were people who couldn't fight in the war, where communism was a genuine fear, and his whole story line of 'crime alley, poor orphan, adopted by a billionaire,' pulls both capitalism and communism into question- why is there a billionaire when the people are suffering, and capitalism CAN help the few lucky enough to receive that help. In terms of youth attitudes, he came from a time of youth rebellion, evident in his later comics, where he pulled away from Batman which lead to his eventual death. He took more risks, he had an edge over Dick I terms of his street brawler style instead of Dick's grace in acrobatics. The older generations saw this rebellion of youth as off putting, and often refused to hire younger generations due to their more leftist views, and a perceived notion of them being radical and troublemakers. This stigma till exists today and is still evident in later Robin runs.

Tim’s characterisation as a representation if the youth is the most prominent to a modern audience, though, because he is representative of teens in the 90s/very early 2000s and they were attempting to get more teens into comics without it being seen as nerdy, however, this push for more youth diversity in comics prompted a huge shift in youth culture, where comics were now being seen as old people stuff and ‘nerd culture’ up until televised media (TV/movies) started adapting it to exclusively appeal to nerd audiences who didn’t want to watch new media, as it might mean letting go of old media. Televised adaptations also brought in new fans who could understand storylines visually and in a more efficient way than reading several decades worth of back reading comics could. Tim was a skateboarder and a photographer, and these pictures and excessive stalking of Batman and Robin could almost be seen as a teenage girl in the 90s having posters of her celebrity crush all over the walls. He also slept A LOT, which might be the writers trying to represent the youth as lazy in order to keep older readers and avoid being seen as 'pandering' to the youth.

Coincidentally, Steph was also introduced as a Robin during this period of the early 2000s which meant that DC were trying to ensure that women were being represented more in traditionally male media in order for the women’s equality movements to also be appealed to. She, as a character, does not fit into any stereotypical female character archetype (nosy reporter, damsel on distress, femme fatale) and is so evidently an individual of her own, without simply being a part of someone else’s character, like Tim’s. This shift in views towards women in comics was probably what stopped more comics from ‘fridging’ their female characters in order to elevate a male character’s story, even though Steph and Barbara were both pretty badly portrayed at the end of their individual runs (Killing Joke and No Man's Land, and Steph's baby). Her introduction as a Robin, 'the Girl Wonder' was so that Batman comics would appeal to more women, specifically, women who were actively less conservative and more likely to get into traditionally male medias, as many women in the 2000s were stepping out of conservative roles, and more were engaging in these 'nerdy' interests.

Damian’s introduction in a post 9/11 world, where the vilification of the LoA had reached a high and probably contributed to the extreme whitewashing of his character, sometimes seen in the DCAU, or even a lot in comics. He seems to feel ostracised by the rest of the family, because of his upbringing, the same way many Arabs and other ethnic minorities felt at this time. Damian being white passing also meant that he perhaps reflected the Arab youth in America who were not so outwardly ostracised by their peers due to the racial and religious tensions in the country. He was also introduced in or around 2006 (I can’t remember the exact date) where the youth were, again, largely viewed as rebellious or hooligans, which is NOT reflected in his character, not that I can think of any examples.

Anyway. That’s it for the essay, let me know if I missed something, or got something wrong, and thank you for reading till the end!

[starsneverdiewritings]

Versace On The Floor - A Hwang Hyunjin Fanfic

✪ Genre: Fluff, Smut, Vampire AU ✪ Warnings: Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Reader is Female ✪ Characters: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids), Original Female Character, First-person POV ✪ Word Count: 6.9k

“I thought I was a fool for no one, oh baby, I'm a fool for you” - Supermassive Black Hole, Muse

It starts with a gift. It ends with a secret. Hyunjin reveals himself to you at the annual party at your mansion. What you learn will shock you, in the best way.

A present. That’s all it was. A gift from your secret admirer. Who was this? You had no clue. It could be any of your close friends and while you had a hunch about where the random and, well, expensive gifts were from, you didn’t have any concrete evidence on who was buying you these things.

It started when a replacement bottle of your Gucci perfume showed up on your vanity conveniently just as you were about to run out of your original bottle. It’s not like you couldn’t buy another one, but finding it there was so… odd. You had asked all of your friends if they had left a bottle at your place, but each responded that they didn’t wear that scent or brand. Then, it was a pair of earrings you had been eyeing for a few weeks online. Instead of pulling the trigger on the Louis Vuitton website and just ordering them, you had been going back and forth about whether you really needed another pair. After a week of debating, you woke up to them on your bedside table. While it had scared you that someone had been in your room while you were sleeping, you ultimately figured that it had to be one of your male friends. They all came and went as they pleased, the house big enough, and lonely enough, that you welcomed their company. Some days you would wake up and walk down the hallway towards the smell of breakfast being made. On other days, you would find one (or three) of them sprawled out on the couch sleeping off a hangover.

Today’s gift was by far your favorite. You walked into your room from your shower to find a light blue evening gown hanging from the display section of your wardrobe, the black dress you had already laid out returned to its original spot in your closet. The note under it read ‘Wear Me’ in a messy script. You silently cursed the fact that you had, one, never seen any of your male friends’ handwriting, and, two, couldn’t get a lead on who the hell was leaving you these gifts. At any rate, you were never one to let a good dress go to waste. You ran the material between your fingers, inspecting the dress carefully. That’s when you noticed it. There, holding the strap on the right shoulder together was a silver emblem. You stepped closer, your mouth dropping in surprise when you recognized the design.

Who the fuck bought you a Versace dress?

Your mind spiraled. It wasn’t like you didn’t have nice dresses, but this, this was too much. You had to find out who was leaving you these gifts. The party tonight would be an opportunity to grill every male friend you had. You sat down at your vanity and planned out how you were going to get to the bottom of this. The party was a tradition, something you had grown up knowing. The family estate hosted it annually and people from all across the world would come. When you were seven, you met a girl at the party. Her name was Leena and she told you she was from Russia. You spent all night with her, but in the morning she was gone. You remembered crying to your mother about missing your friend and your mother explaining to you that she had to go home. Now that you had grown, you didn’t make new friends at the party despite all of the attendees being your age. When you were about sixteen, you started to notice that anyone over twenty-five stopped coming to the party and there was no one younger than you there. When you asked one of the staff about it, they gave you a small smile and said that everyone else was busy. Not questioning the circumstances anymore, you threw yourself into the party every year since then, getting effectively wasted with your group of male friends while everyone else looked on in disgust. A week after the party when you were seventeen, some of your female friends mentioned that the way you acted was “not lady-like” and that they “had been raised to present themselves correctly”. You couldn’t have given less of a shit and you told them so. Just because it was a fancy party with a bunch of rich men meant you couldn’t enjoy yourself? Fuck that. Since then, your female friendships had turned into seeing each other once a year. A week after the party when you were eighteen, your parents bought a château in the south of France and left you at the estate. You weren’t upset. You were overjoyed to have your friends over all the time and do whatever you wanted; it’s not like you couldn’t afford to do anything you wanted to do anyway. That was two years ago and now, being twenty, you were jittery with excitement about the party.

Last year, there were a few questions from staff about how you wanted the party run, but being left in charge with no guidance or plan, you instructed them to do what they had done the previous year. Some glances of confusion were thrown your way, but you shrugged them off just wanting there to be enough alcohol at the party for you and your friends. This year, however, you had made a plan and sat down with all of the staff members weeks ahead of the party. You had a list of requests and items you wanted for the party to run smoothly. At the end of the meeting, the staff seemed more comfortable and relaxed about how things would go, seemingly used to more outrageous requests than a simple “just reuse what we had last year”. This year would be a party that would be talked about for ages, you just knew it.

Finishing your makeup, a knock came from your door.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened revealing a staff member, Analise, poking her head into the room.

“They are almost ready for you.”

You smiled at her.

“Thank you, I’ll be right there.”

She nodded and closed the door.

Standing, you made your way back to the wardrobe. Taking the dress off of the hanger, you stepped into it and slid it on. It hugged your hips perfectly. Everything from the sizing to the straps was perfect; the color complimenting your complexion, the fabric silky smooth against your skin, the bunching of material on the side draped perfectly, and a slit cut up your right thigh. Looking into the mirror, you smiled, satisfied with your outfit. You left your room, your silver heels clicking on the marble of the hallway. You made your way to the balcony overlooking the sprawling estate lined with gravel pathways, illuminated statues, and grandiose fountains. Various guests wandered about, but they all came to a halt the moment you appeared. You took a deep breath.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. We hope you have an amazing night. Enjoy!”

The crowd erupted in applause. You smiled, knowing that it didn’t matter what you said because they would clap anyway. You could have told them all to go fuck themselves and they would have cheered, already too stoned or tipsy to process what you were saying. You left the balcony and made your way down to the ballroom. You walked past people mingling, knowing that the calm vibe that was present wouldn’t last. The longer the party went on, the more rowdy everyone got. Due to this, you had instructed staff to keep only the ballroom open to guests; everything else in the house was closed. You walked out of the large double doors through the courtyard to the grounds. The place was packed, people sat in the grass talking and drinking, chased each other between statues, and stood next to the fountains. It wasn’t long before someone would be in one. You approached one of the open bars and ordered a drink.

“Wow, starting off strong this year, are we?”

A voice close to your ear spoke.

You whipped around to find Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin dressed in matching black suits. Chan, the owner of the voice that had almost given you a heart attack, smiled wide. He held a glass of honey-colored liquid. To his left, Changbin stared down the neck of his beer bottle. Lastly, Hyunjin was looking everywhere but you, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes towards the night sky. It wasn’t a quiet fact between you and Chan that you had a raging, uncontrollable crush on Hyunjin. The three of them had become your best friends over the past couple of years. Since your parents left, you sought solace and comfort in others, hating being alone in the large house. You and Chan, however, had grown closest, telling each other everything. The three of them were also the usual suspects when it came to getting the party rowdy, Chan acting as the ringleader as he threw back shot after shot.

“I figured if I’m going to catch up to where you are, I’ll have to start on the right foot.”

Chan smiled.

“Well, let’s get going then, yeah?”

You turned toward the bar, collecting your drink from the bartender.

“Let’s.”

You responded as you raised the glass towards him.

About an hour later, you were decently buzzed and not planning on stopping any time soon. As you suspected, people had gotten more comfortable and, therefore, more drunk. You figured in about an hour from now, Chan would be tossing Changbin in a fountain while Hyunjin scoffed. The instance was synonymous with the party at this point, tradition. The four of you had found your way back to one of the open bars, Chan ordering everyone multiple rounds of shots. Then, Hyunjin suggested getting away from the crowds so you found yourself walking next to him on a gravel path, Chan and Changbin stumbling behind the two of you while playfully shoving each other. The night air wrapped around your bare shoulders, causing you to shiver. Hyunjin noticed and paused to take off his suit jacket, revealing a black silk dress shirt tucked into his slacks accentuating his waist.

“What are you…”

“Just take it.”

He pulled the jacket around your shoulders.

“Thanks.”

You continued walking, following the path and beginning to loop back towards the party. For the next few seconds, it was silent aside from the muffled chatter of party guests and the music from the ballroom that filtered out of the doors and reached your ears. Then, a voice to your left, barely above a whisper cut through the night.

“Medusa ‘95. Looks good on you.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, not being able to process what he was talking about. Then you realized it. The dress.

“How did you-”

Hyunjin smirked. Your eyes widened. Your mind sobered as the realization hit you like a truck.

“You!”

Chan and Changbin had caught up with you and began to snicker behind you.

“It was you! Hwang Hyunjin, have you been leaving me all these expensive gifts?”

“Who else did you think it was?”

A slight smirk spread across his face. You raised your arm, and suddenly, Chan was at your side, holding your wrist.

“Now, now, let’s not beat poor, lovesick Hyunjin over here to death.”

Just when you thought the moment couldn’t get any more surprising, the word ‘lovesick’ registered in your brain.

“What- lovesick?”

You looked between the three of them, Chan and Changbin trying to suppress smiles while a violent blush spread from the tips of Hyunjin’s ears down his neck.

“Just forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He turned towards the house and began to walk away.

“Hyunjin, wait!”

You called after him. You turned to Chan and Changbin.

“Nice guys. Thanks, for that.”

Their faces dropped.

“Wait, we didn’t mean-”

“Save it.”

You turned away from them and chased after Hyunjin. You could see him in front of you, the blonde not slowing his pace. You called after him again.

“Hyunjin, come back! Hyunjin! Hwang Hyunjin stop walking away from me!”

That got his attention. He paused, not turning towards you but not walking further away either. After struggling to walk fast on the gravel in your heels, you came up to him and spun to stand in front of him with your back to the house.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bought you all that stuff. I was just-”

“Hyunjin.”

You cut him off. He fell silent, his eyes once again anywhere but you.

“Don’t apologize, I love the gifts. I’m just curious about how you, one, knew what to get me, and, two, got them into my room.”

His eyes flicked to yours and held them there.

“Magic.”

You scoffed playfully.

“Mmm, okay. Whatever you say, Mr. Magician.”

Hyunjin turned his head, noticing that Chan and Changbin had started walking towards you again even though they were quite a ways away.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter?”

He asked, his head still turned.

You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry at the thought of being alone with Hyunjin.

“Ye- yeah. Sure, whatever you want.”

He turned back to you, extending his arm for you to hold. Under the fabric of his shirt, his skin was noticeably cool. You chalked it up to the night air and his lack of a jacket. He led you up the gravel path, back to the courtyard, around the fountain in the middle, and out the gate to the back of the house. He was silent as you walked arm-in-arm. Your senses were heightened, something inside of you screaming ‘DANGER!’. You pushed the thought away, knowing Hyunjin would be the last person to put you in danger. The path you took around the side to the back of the house was dimly lit, the only light guiding your way leaking out of the ballroom windows. Hyunjin, however, acted as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. You could see his dark eyes scanning the shadows, seeing things you couldn’t. Suddenly, he paused. You tore your eyes away from his face to the metal gates in front of you.

‘Why did he come here?’

Hyunjin took a deep breath and walked forward. Your arms unlinked, leaving you standing in front of the gates while he pushed one open.

“Coming?”

You blinked and nodded.

Following him in, you pulled his jacket tighter around your shoulders. Moonlight illuminated the graveyard and Hyunjin’s skin shone. You stood at the entrance and watched as he walked deeper into the graveyard, his head hung low and fingertips brushing the top of each headstone he passed. He paused in the middle and turned back towards you. The graveyard was small with high block walls covered in ivy surrounding it, but it looked so different here in the dark. It looked bigger, scarier.

“Hey. Come here.”

Hyunjin spoke, his low tone sending shivers down your back. If anyone else had been with you or you had been closer to the party, you wouldn’t have heard him. Now, though, you walk towards him with your eyes locked on his. Once close enough, he reached out, arms circled your waist and pulled your body flush with his. Your breath caught in your throat and your hands held his shoulders, stabilizing yourself. He looked deep into your eyes, searching for something.

“Never in a million years did I think I’d be here with you.”

You blinked. What the hell?

“What do you mean?”

He scoffed.

“Oh, come on. After playing hard to get for so long? Now I’m the one who can finally have you.”

Your mind spun. What the fuck was he talking about?

He noticed the confused look on your face and pulled back a bit. He didn’t completely detach from where his hands were around your waist, but he put space between the two of you. You suddenly wished he didn’t.

“Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”

You shook your head and he sighed.

“Do you even know why we do this every year?”

Another shake ‘no’ elicited another sigh.

“Well, then I guess I have to be the one to tell you. Shit, okay, umm… You know what? We should sit, come on.”

You felt so lost. What did he have to tell you? Why did he think you needed to sit down? You had always thought of the party as just a time to fuck around with your friends. Now, you were wondering what the real reason was. He led you to a bench against one of the walls and gestured for you to sit down. He stayed standing, beginning to pace in front of you. After a few minutes of him wringing his hands and pacing back and forth, you got fed up.

“Hyunjin, will you just spit it out already?”

He paused in front of you and exhaled.

“Okay. Uh, okay. So, you know we have this party every year, right?”

You nodded.

“Great. Your family has been notorious for having daughters, so about three hundred years ago the first party was advertised as ‘bring your sons to marry our daughter and be welcomed into our rich family’. Some people heard that and ran with it. Poor people came from all over in search of riches while another group of people came looking for protection. The first daughter chose a duke after a couple of years of having the annual party. When she took over the estate, she decided to just keep the parties going. She was hoping other people would be able to find love at one of the parties like she had. The people who had come to the first party looking for protection kept coming back. After years of being outsiders in society, these parties helped integrate them back. Anyways, ever since your parents brought you to that first party, these people have been trying to get you to fall in love with them. Think about it, how many people have come up to you at these pastries trying to make a move on you?”

You thought about it. There had been a lot of people, guys specifically, who had come up and tried to charm you. You, however, were so wasted at every party recently that you couldn’t recall any of their faces or what they had said. All you could remember was being irritated that someone was in between you and the next round of shots.

“I guess guys have come up to me, but I never really paid attention.”

Hyunjin nodded.

“That’s what I thought.”

“How do you know all of this?”

You knew the story of the parties, having been told by your mother growing up, but how did he? Hyunjin blew out a breath, seemingly debating if he should answer the question honestly.

“I was at the first party.”

You laughed.

“So, we’ve known each other since I was seven and only recently became friends?”

Hyunjin shook his head.

You stopped laughing.

“No, I mean I was at the first party.”

You refused to process what he said.

“Hyunjin, that was three hundred years ago. How…”

He sat down next to you, taking your hand in his.

“I think it’s important that you understand where I’m from. When I’m from.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close he was and how plush his lips looked. Everything about him made your brain fuzzy, pulling you in. He pulled back, a frown forming on your face.

“Baby, focus.”

You blinked, trying to clear your mind enough to listen to what he was saying.

“I was born six hundred years ago. I age ten years every three hundred. Do you understand?”

You refused to believe him. There was no way. All of the years you had spent infatuated with stories like this never prepared you for it to be true.

“So you’re… not human?”

He smiled and dropped his head. His shoulders shook with silent laughter. He raised his head again and looked you squarely in the eyes.

“No, no I’m not. There’s a term for what I am, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“Well, I’m very obviously accepting of the fact that you’re not human and I don’t feel like you’re going to eat or attack me, so give it to me. What are you?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t place your finger on.

“I’m a vampire.”

You knew it. Your brain had concluded it some time ago when he had begun talking. It had all added up, the heightened senses, knowing his way around the property, refusing to take as many shots as you. Still, the confession made your blood run cold and your breathing stop. His voice cut through your brain's initial panic.

“Does that scare you?”

“No. If you wanted to do something to me, you would have already. We’re alone in a graveyard for fuck’s sake.”

He smiled.

“Good answer. That’s going to make this a lot easier for me.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned in and touched his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss, happy to have confirmation that his lips were as soft as they looked. His hand came up to cradle your face and you leaned in, resting a hand on his thigh. You scoffed internally at the fact that he thought his confession would scare you. If anything, it made you more attracted to him. There was an underlying sense of danger that heightened your senses and made kissing him feel like touching a live wire. Goosebumps ran from the top of your scalp down your arms and legs, making you shiver. Hyunjin pulled back.

“We should get you out of the cold.”

You smiled as an idea popped into your head.

“I know where we can go. Follow me.”

You stood, pulling him up from the bench and leading him back to the courtyard. You walked through it to the ballroom, weaving between guests until you made it to the back of the room. A staff member moved to stop you from entering the doors that led into the foyer but allowed you and Hyunjin to pass once she saw who was in front of her. As the door closed behind you, the party muffled into the background and the click of your heels on the marble floor rang in your ears. You stopped under the chandelier that hung in the entryway. A slower song from the ballroom filtered in from the cracks in the door. You instantly recognized it.

“Underneath the chandelier, we're dancin' all alone…”

How fitting. You spun to face Hyunjin who was walking closer to you, humming the lyrics. His hands circled your waist, mimicking earlier, as you looped your arms behind his neck. You pressed your bodies together and began to sway from side to side as you followed Hyunjin’s lead. You laid your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. You admired the way the lighting made his skin look golden and brought out the light brown stripes in his eyes. He looked down at you with, what had to be, the same expression you had on your face. He spun the two of you around, making it feel like you had your own personal ballroom. He leaned down, prompting you to lift your head off of his shoulder and meet his lips again. Your kiss intensified as your lips parted and his tongue made its way into your mouth. Your hands tangled in his blonde hair and you bit his lip, something you had been wanting to do ever since you had first laid eyes on him, and pulled a small, barely audible moan from him. He broke the kiss, leaving you wanting more. He touched his forehead to yours, breathing heavily.

“What…”

“Shhh, follow me.”

He let go of your waist and let you lead him out of the entryway and up the stairs. You knew what he wanted. You wanted the same thing. You had been wanting it ever since you saw him for the first time at the party when you were sixteen. Now, you weren’t going to let anything get in your way. You led him to your bedroom and closed the door. You turned to face him and found him sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on his elbows with his legs slightly spread. You walked towards him, slipping his jacket off of your shoulders and letting it hit the ground softly. You stood between his legs, looking down at him.

“Why did you get me all those gifts, Hyuni?”

He drew in a shaky breath at the nickname. You took note.

“I- I wanted to see you wearing something that I knew came from me.”

You began to lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time.

“I wanted to see something that labeled you as mine.”

Now, you were kneeling in front of him, your head resting on his thigh. You looked up at him, eyelids low and seductive.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

You pressed a light kiss to his inner thigh, causing his eyes to roll back in his head.

“Four years. Chan- fuck.”

You moved up, leaving a trail of hot kisses through the fabric.

“Chan dragged me to the party four years ago. I didn’t want to go… Then I saw you and kept coming back. Even when there wasn’t a party going on.” You had moved to the other thigh, kissing down it. You remembered him showing up in your life after the party. You never questioned it, but you always knew Chan had something to do with it. Hyunjin’s hand moved from the bed to the side of your face and pulled you up towards him. He kissed you with a need you had never felt before, pulling you to your feet and leading you backward. Your back hit the door as his hands traveled up and down your body, one stopped on the bare skin of your thigh, exposed by the slit in the dress. His hand moved under it and hiked your leg up to his hip. You wrapped it around and pulled him close, your bodies flush with one another’s. Your hands stayed planted in his hair. His mouth left yours and moved down your neck. His confession in the graveyard came back to you and made your breathing come in rapid pants. He pulled away and looked down at you.

“Are you scared?”

He asked you the same question from earlier. You shook your head. You weren’t scared, if anything you were turned on. He moved back to your neck, his teeth scraping over a vein, teasing you. You swallowed and drew in a breath.

“Hyuni…”

“Mmm?”

He hummed against your skin.

You laughed nervously.

“You’re not gonna…right?”

His lips traveled upwards until they were next to your ear.

“I won’t bite you, baby. That is, unless you ask.”

You smiled. One thing was for sure, you wouldn’t be a news headline.

He resumed kissing your neck, teeth and all causing you to shiver. He moved down to your shoulder, stopping at the strap of your dress.

“Fuck, you look so good in this dress. I knew you would.”

You brought his lips back to yours, the fire inside of you both reigniting and burning together. He places both hands under your thighs, effectively lifting you and carrying you over to the vanity. You gasped, the possibility of him being extremely strong completely slipping your mind. He always moved so elegantly that you never would have assumed that under that silk shirt were firm muscles that could carry you across the room. He placed you down and you silently thanked your past self for putting your makeup away earlier that day. Hyunjin’s lips were next to your ear and you could feel his breath when he spoke.

“I need you. Can I have you?”

You had never replied faster, an enthusiastic ‘yes!’ leaving your lips. Hyunjin pulled back and smiled at you. Oh yeah, whatever the hell he wanted to do to you he could. You didn’t know if that was your years-long crush speaking or his intoxicating energy that came with the territory. Whichever it was, you wanted every part of it. His hand traveled out from under your thigh, across the top of it, and up your leg until it dipped under where the fabric met at the top. His lips had made it back to yours and you could feel his fingers getting closer and closer until they were pulling your underwear to the side and running over your clit. You let out a gasp into the kiss, his tongue in your mouth furthering the sensation. Your body was hot all over and you knew it would only intensify when he was inside of you later. You shook in anticipation and his finger swept over your clit again before he pushed one into you. You moaned, dipping your head back and his free hand came up to grip your chin.

“Eyes on me baby girl. I want to watch you react.”

Fucking freak. You liked it, though. His fingers continued to move until he could slide another in, stretching you out and leaving your mouth open while your chest heaved. His fingers inside of you curled, hitting just right over and over again while you called out for him.

“Hyun- Hyunjin. Oh, fuck. Oh my go- Shit.”

The entire time he whispered encouraging praises to you.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

“Just like that.”

“That’s my baby.”

“Does that feel good? Yeah? Tell me how good it feels.”

His eyes studied your face as you fell apart, your eyes closing, your head dipping back between your shoulders. His fingers continued, moving at an even pace that felt like it would break you into a million pieces from the inside out. After a few minutes, he sped up every so slightly, causing you to lurch forward and rest your head against his shoulder, your hands clutching at the back of his shirt. You could feel yourself on the edge, he brought you closer and closer with every curl of his fingers… until he stopped. Your eyes popped open, the feeling of defeat sinking in. You pulled back from him as his finger slipped out of you. He pulled back and smiled. He fucking smiled. If you weren’t so tired, you would have smacked him.

“Hyuni, why’d you stop?”

Your eyes were lidded with exhaustion and your voice came out in a whine.

Hyunjin laughed lightly at you.

“Trust me, baby.”

You held the top of his shirt where the top two buttons were undone. Whore. You pulled him closer.

“I need you.”

That did it. Hyunjin’s eyes sparked and caught fire. His hands moved swiftly from your thighs to your waist, picked you up from the vanity, and spun you around so that your back was to him and you were facing the bed. One of his hands moved to the small of your back and traced the hidden zipper up, finding the tab and pulling it down. The strap on your shoulder slid off, as did the rest of the dress and your underwear (thanks to his quick fingers), leaving you exposed in front of him.

“Sit on the bed, darling.”

He purred softly behind you. You followed his command and sat down, facing him where he stood with his back against the vanity. He began rolling up the sleeves of his black silk dress shirt, exposing his forearms. You watched the tendons flex as his fingers pulled at the material. Your eyes shifted to the mirror behind him, watching the back muscles under his shirt expand and contract. The entire time his head was low and his eyes were burning a hole into you. He walked towards you, stepping carefully over the dress on the floor. Stopping in front of the bed, he leaned down, placing his hands on your thighs. He hooked them under you and pushed you up the bed. He lowered himself between your legs and began running his fingertips up your legs. The sensation made your back arch, yearning for him to be inside of you again in any capacity.

“Hyuni, please.”

He groaned.

“Say that again.”

“Hyuni?”

He dropped his head onto your shoulder and moaned. You ran a hand into his blonde locks and pulled him up to meet your eyes.

“Take your clothes off.”

He moved so fast that you still felt his weight on top of you as he stood, undid the buttons of his shirt, and stepped out of his black slacks and briefs. He didn’t crawl on top of you when he made his way back towards you. Instead, he lowered himself to his knees, prompting you to push yourself onto your elbows, watching him. His torso rested on the bed, his hands gripped your thighs and spread them apart as he lowered his lips to your clit. You dropped against the mattress with a moan, his lips finally doing what you had wanted all along. As his tongue circled, his fingers found themselves inside of you again causing you to twitch and grind against his face. He made no effort to stop you, groaning in response every time your hips bucked and strings of curses and moans left your lips. You pleaded his name over and over again, begging him to bring you to the edge again. He moaned against you, the sound pushing you closer and closer. His whines for you were music, the lightest noise you could imagine mixed with the most guttural urge to please that you had ever heard. Sex with a vampire had never been on your real-life-possibilities radar, but here you were, and fuck if it wasn’t the best head you’d ever received in your life. Your orgasm ripped through you, feeling like it would split your skin and break your bones in one moment while transporting you to a fuzzy cloud of bliss the next. Hyunjin kissed your inner thighs, making you shiver with each sensation. He brought himself up and hovered over you, his eyes low and dark. Oh, he wasn’t done. You registered what he wanted and held his shoulders, pausing him from going any further just yet. You studied his face, his lips red and covered in you and his blonde hair creeping down his neck, messy from your fingers pulling at it. His arms bulged from holding himself up, his muscles taught and firm. His broad chest expanded and contracted as he breathed above you. Further down, his abs were ridgid and golden in the low lighting of your bedroom. He looked like he stepped out of a fucking Victorian oil painting. Maybe he did. You didn’t focus on logistics for too long, your need for him overtaking your senses.

“Love.”

His voice snapped your eyes back to his.

You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Hyuni.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

“Need you, baby.”

His head dropped, placing his forehead against yours.

“How much?”

His head raised. His eyebrows cinched together. You ran your fingers through his hair again.

“Show me, Hyuni. Show me how much you need me.”

In a flash, he was off of you again, standing, and flipping you over onto your stomach. One of his arms snaked around your torsos, the other around your chest. He pulled you up onto your knees, his arms caged around you firm, but gentle. Your back pressed against his chest and you held on to his arms. In a singular roll of his hips, he was inside of you, his lips next to your ear while he whispered praises to you. Your head dropped back against his chest and your hands gripped his thighs behind you. Even standing while you were elevated on the bed, he was still taller than you. His hips pushed up again, making you cry out. If he had not been holding you against him, you would have fallen face-first into the mattress. He rolled his hips into you over and over, feeling the friction inside of you made your heart and breathing accelerate. His head lowered in tandem with his arm around your torso. While his mouth left wet-hot kisses below your ear and down your neck, his fingers lightly brushed over your clit. The slightest pressure caused your moans to mix with his. In reality, his arm could have stayed around your waist. The feeling of him inside of you was enough to have your muscles tensing and cause you to clench around him. He detached from where he was leaving hickeys against your neck and raised his head. To the right was the vanity he had you on earlier. The reflection in the mirror caught his eye and he turned his head to watch himself fuck in and out of you. You looked like the fucking picture of beauty, your skin shining golden with a sheen of sweat, your body draped back over his, your eyes closed in bliss, your head tilted back against him exposing your neck, and your lips parted spilling sinful noises drove him crazy. You called out to him, pulling his focus back to you in front of him.

“Fuck, Hyunjin, oh fuck.”

He smiled above you and moved his hand on your clit faster. Almost instantly, your body tensed, coaxing him to finish with you. Your moans mixed and your body fell backwards against his. He stayed grounded, holding you up until he could move you to lie down on the mattress. Once he did, he crawled next to you, opening his arms to you. You shuffled into them. His skin was cool which was a welcome contrast to how warm you were. You both laid there for some time until he broke the silence.

“I expected you to be scared.”

You angled your head, which was on his chest, up to look at him.

“What?”

“When I told you. I expected you to run away or something. Most people do.”

You propped yourself up with one arm and raised your other hand to run your fingers through his hair.

“Hyuni, I will never be scared of you.”

He smiled.

“I have a question, though.”

“I figured you would have a few. Ask away.”

“When the fuck were you born?”

He laughed, his smile so wide his eyes turned to crescents and his teeth glinted in the soft lighting. You smacked his chest lightly.

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question!”

His laughter died down, but his smile stayed.

“No, it is. I just thought it would be more along the lines of ‘how many people have you killed’ or something like that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know if I want that information.”

“Good, I wasn’t planning on telling you anyway. To answer your question, it was sometime in the 1400’s. I wasn’t bit or anything, I was just born like this. I don’t know the exact year, but it was around that time. I’ve tried to figure it out, but even after all these years math still confuses the fuck out of me. I should ask Changbin, I’m sure he could figure it out.”

You had laid back down on his chest by now and watched as he spoke. He was staring at the ceiling as if he was talking to himself.

“Remember how I said at the first party that people who were outcasted by society came to it to hopefully work their way back in?”

You nodded.

“Well, they did. There are quite a few people here like me, but you’d never know.”

“Anyone I know?”

He looked at you.

“Yeah, actually. A couple of people you know very well.”

You thought for a second. The only people you knew that well were Changbin and Chan, but there was no way they could be vampires. Or could they? Hyunjin could sense the wheels in your head turning, his smile getting a bit wider.

“No way.”

He nodded.

“Yes, way.”

“This whole time the three of you have been fucking vampires and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck?”

He barked out a laugh and pulled you closer.

“It’s hard to tell people. Especially people we like. We don’t want to lose anyone.”

“I’m still mad you didn’t tell me sooner. You’ve seen my copies of Twilight. What made you think I would run away in terror?”

“Fiction and real life are two different things, babe.”

Hynjin planted a kiss on your forehead. Outside, you could hear the party still going strong. You looked at the clock on your bedside table. 11:59. You sat up.

“C’mon.”

Hyunjin watched as you pulled a blanket off the bed and around your shoulders. You made your way to the window and flicked the lights off. Hyunjin stood and joined you, as you opened the blanket for him to wrap his body in next to you. Outside of the window, the sky began to light up in every color of the rainbow. The fireworks illuminated the estate and you could hear the cheers of the partygoers below. Hyunjin wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him, and placed a kiss on your forehead again. He looked down at you, your eyes locking as his skin flashed different colors from the light of the fireworks.

“I don’t tell people this because they’re usually not around long enough for me to tell them, but I have to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“Can I tell you something, too?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you too, Hyuni.”

Hiiiiii, I loved writing Hyunjin!!! If anyone has any requests, please let me know!! You can find me @starsneverdie (https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsneverdie) on AO3 and @starsneverdie_ (https://x.com/starsneverdie_) on Twitter. I promise I'm super cool and funny and sexy consider interacting with me over there!! As always, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[rey-jake-therapist]

I have talked a couple of times about the huge parallels that exist between Hannigram (Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, from the NBC show not the movie) and Haladriel (Galadriel and Sauron, The Rings of Power), and for me there are still the fictional relationships that are the closest in terms of narrative, despite the first being m/m and the second m/f. I have been told : Penny Dreadful, Vanessa and Dracula, but to be honest I found this relationship way too rushed, and totally ruined by the shitty ending of the show.

Besides, Dracula lied so much to Vanessa it was actually hard to say if his feelings for her were genuine or not. He had a nice speech though. Maybe on a second rewatch I'd have a different opinion, but it didn't really work for me. I didn't give a damn about this Dracula guy, while I do feel a lot for Hannibal and Sauron despite their undeniable evilness.

No, it's still Hannigram and Haladriel to me. The ships's names even both start with a H, isn't it a sign lol

Hannibal, Will, Galadriel, and Sauron are all very complex characters. Anyone who attempts to put these characters in a box and just see them as "entirely good" and "entirely evil" are, sorry, wrong.

Hannibal and Sauron get nowhere near to be redeemed in their story because they always commit to evil and feel unapologetic about it (Hannibal especially, while Sauron has a short "repentance phase". But since it's more motivated by the fear of the Valar's judgements than by a real, genuine desire to atone, he's easily drawn back to his old evil ways). They're both considered to be personifications of evil, for that matter.

Hannibal and Sauron are both capable of seeming extremely charming and deceive everybody who meets them into believing that they're "normal". I would say that Hannibal's an even better deceiver than Sauron is. They're also both control freaks who play 5D chess in real time. The rare times they lose control, it's almost always related to Will/Galadriel.

Hannibal and Sauron don't care about anybody and have no issues killing anyone who's in their way, except for Will/Galadriel.

Will and Galadriel are supposedly on "the good side", but in Hannibal and Sauron, respectively, they find the reflection of their own inner darkness.

Will and Galadriel are different from everybody else. They're respected in their respective field, but their differences make them loners, and seen as potentially dangerous by their peers.

Season 1 of both shows starts with exactly the same concept : Hannibal murders people and eats them, but for the world, including Will, he's just a respected psychiatrist. He befriends Will because he feels what Will would have probably always denied if he hadn't met him : that Will likes to kill, because it makes him feel powerful. Unlike Hannibal, he needs to feel that his victim "deserved" it, he won't just kill indifferently. Sauron pretends to be Halbrand, a regular mortal man, befriends Galadriel, and is drawn to her light but also to the darkness he can feel in her.

Hannibal is supposed to help Will find a murderer who's no other than himself. Halbrand is supposed to help Galadriel find Sauron, who's also no other than himself.

Both Hannigram and Haladriel have a clear push and pull dynamics through the seasons.

Will ends up realizing that Hannibal is the Chesapeake ripper, the murderer he was chasing, just like Galadriel finds out that Halbrand is Sauron at the end of season 1.

Will and Galadriel have an intense desire to kill Hannibal/Sauron, while being irresistibly drawn to him.

When he realizes that Will's close to find who he really is, Hannibal gets Will thrown in jail for the crimes he himself committed thanks to planted evidence and manipulation. Sauron somehow manages to instill the doubt in Elrond's head that Galadriel is not free of his influence, while manipulating Celebrimbor into believing that he was cast aside by her (and Gil-Galad) once they didn't need him anymore.

Hannibal acts all innocent when Will openly accuses him of being the Chesapeake ripper, just like Sauron plays innocent when referring to the fact that Galadriel cast him out once she found out who he was (the main difference is that Galadriel never accused Halbrand of being Sauron in front of Celebrimbor).

Talking of Elrond, I can see a parallel between him telling Galadriel "he (Sauron) never left" when she tells him she can't let him in again, and Bedelia du Maurier telling Will "Can't live with him, can't live without him, is that what this is?"

At the end of season 2, Hannibal stabs Will when he realizes he conspired with Jack Crawford to have him arrested (= he realizes he can't have Will even if Will is tempted). What do we get at the end of TROP S2 ? same thing, basically : Galadriel keeps on resisting him, so Sauron stabs her, literally leaving his mark (the wound) on her. In both cases, there's a clear erotic subtext.

In season 3, Hannibal tries to start a new life with a new partner, Bedelia du Maurier, but it doesn't work. He's visibly miserable and thinks about Will all the time. Sauron in season 2 does the same with Celebrimbor and a bit with Mirdania, who's basically a Galadriel stand-in. The partnership with Celebrimbor doesn't work as well as it did with Galadriel, and he's dead-eyed, most of the time.

Hannibal finally gets himself arrested so Will always knows where he is (in reaction to Will's claim that he never wants to think of him again, and doesn't want to know where he is). The parallel to that could be the bond that Sauron may have created between him and Galadriel, when he stabbed her with Morgoth's crown. Hannibal and Sauron both want to make sure that Will/Galadriel will never get rid of them.

Will finds himself a nice albeit quite bland wife, who's got a kid that Will treats as his own. I can't *not* see Molly as Will's Celeborn ;)

While being supposedly "happy" with his new quiet life, Will can't resist the temptation to leave this life to organize Hannibal's escape from jail, arguing that he can help him find another killer, the Red Dragon. It's quite obvious that at this point, Will just wants an excuse to spend time with Hannibal, as he has now fully embraced his "dark side". Season 3 ends with Will jumping off a cliff and dragging Hannibal with him in a desperate attempt to have them both killed.

I wouldn't be very surprised if we got a similar scenario in season 3 of TROP, especially if the theory that Galadriel and Sauron are now bound is revealed accurate... Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but it doesn't seem that far-fetched to me that Galadriel would still be attracted to Sauron in season 3.

[chuckeroo777]

Slay the Princess- Voice Rankings

Slay the Princess has been one of my fixations for a while, and for good reason. It is such a complex, well written, and funny game. So, why not rank all the voices? Maybe I'll do another one later with the princesses.

13. Voice of the Opportunist

God I hate this guy. Despite being involved in all three of my favorite routes (Razor, Thorn, Dragon), he is the worst. Seriously, despite his best attempts to butter everyone up, he only manages to make himself the most hate-able voice. He pretty much never misses an opportunity to betray everyone.

12. Void Narrator

This is the thing that gives narration whenever the Narrator vanishes. Might not be an actual voice. Honestly, I only included it so that Opportunist could be lower.

11. Voice of the Hunted

He's alright. Never exactly a bad voice to have around, he's mostly rated this low because he's boring. Between his soft voice and one-track mind, there isn't really much to say.

10. The Narrator

Ah, Mr. The Narrator, if that even is his real name. He's exactly the sort of guy you love to hate. His intentions are noble, if misguided. I ultimately believe he is in the wrong, though I can't exactly blame him. He's a lot of fun to mess with. Would probably be higher, but evidence points to him being a false voice, so he loses points for that.

9. Voice of the Skeptic

Skeptic seems like a really good voice to have to solve the mysteries of the construct. Until it turns out he isn't. Seriously, he is worse than the contrarian when it comes to making spiteful decisions. If the narrator says something, he immediately wants to do the opposite. He acts like a know-it-all, but really, he knows nothing.

8. Voice of the Cold

Similar to hunted, Cold is just a little boring sometimes. His calm collected manner is helpful sometimes, but really, he's just kinda there sometimes. He is particularly fun in the grey.

7. Voice of the Broken

A lot higher than I thought he would be. Broken is a simp and a whiner, but he is really funny sometimes. His performance in razor and fury are particularly entertaining.

6. Voice of the Cheated

Cheated is not a helpful voice. He's a salty gamer who would totally sling racial slurs at the narrator if he knew any. The reason he's so high is because he is really funny. Flinching? Never heard of him.

5. Voice of the Stubborn

The second horniest voice, stubborn knows exactly what he wants. He always brings a lot of passion, determination, and drive, though he can be a pain to deal with if you don't actually want to fight.

4. Voice of the Paranoid

Paranoid is a voice that might seem annoying at first, but he is probably the best voice to have your back. Better at deductions than skeptic, better at keeping you alive than hunted, pretty funny at times too, paranoid has it all.

3. Voice of the Smitten

As much as I kinda hate this guy, there is no denying that every word that comes out of smitten's mouth is pure gold. Would probably be number 1 is not for his... uncomfortable behavior in happily ever after, putting it lightly.

2. Voice of the Hero

Sometimes the straight man can be boring, but in hero's case, he is a delight throughout the whole game. Adorably innocent, abundantly reasonable, and always wanting to do the right thing, Hero is a steadfast companion, and is funny to boot.

Voice of the Contrarian

I just love this guy. Contrarian never takes anything seriously, but at the same time, is generally never a hindrance (except in razor, but no one was salvaging that one). He's just here to have a good time, and I love that about him. Only downside is how few routes he shows up in.

Honorable Mention: The Princess

She occasionally slips into the role of a voice in your head. But she is not you. She doesn't count, despite how much I love her.

[sophieinwonderland]

@systeminquiry

Comments like this make me want to ask, how educated are you on the history of DID?

You speak of small sample sizes, and yet DID as a whole didn't even have more than a couple hundred cases prior to the 70s. Large scale studies prior to the increase in diagnoses weren't feasible. You say that the proof is "word of mouth," and yet you seem to ignore that a lot of psychology and psychiatry has been based on listening to people.

A lot of psychological phenomena can't be objectively measured. And even for what we have found indicators for in the brain later, much of that wasn't until long after the conditions were recognized as real based on psychological research. On talking to the affected group and understanding them.

Despite "multiple personality" being recognized for a hundred years as a real condition, and added to the DSM in 1980, it wasn't until the late 90s that the first neurological studies started being conducted into DID systems.

You expect a higher standard of scientific evidence for endogenic plurality than DID could reach for most of its existence.

And while I would agree that proper sourcing is important, you expect sources for things that aren't reasonable to have source for, like the definition of a community term. You use it as a gotcha when his source for the definition of a community term is from the community that coined it as if that invalidates them as a source.

Because of the nature of community terms, all sources will inevitably lead back to the community. If a doctor isn't citing the community directly, they'll be citing another doctor who is. Or a doctor who cited a doctor who cited a doctor who cited the community. All citation roads for community terms are inevitably going to lead back to the community in question. Because the community is going to be the primary source for definitions of their words.

Moving away from the community terms like "plurality," we come to the actual psychological terms. Despite you repeating the false claim that there is a "massive body" of research that systems only form from trauma, you ignore the quotes from the creators of Structural Dissociation model saying that it might be possible that spiritual practices and hypnosis involve self-conscious dissociative parts of the personality.

Do you believe the creators of the structural dissociation model would be saying this if they agreed with your view that non-traumagenic systems weren't possible? If they believed it was only possible to form self-conscious dissociative parts through trauma?

You also have repeatedly ignored my citations of the World Health Organization's ICD-11. Not only here, but on the post you originally made your reply to.

But maybe you will dismiss this since it also has no sources other than being written by the World Health Organization?

But that seems like a dangerous game to play.

At a certain point, denial of endogenic plurality becomes straight-up dismissal of experts.

If you believe it's impossible to be plural without trauma or a disorder, then that means the America Psychiatric Association is spreading psychiatric misinformation.

If you believe it's scientifically impossible under the theory of structural dissociation to form self-conscious dissociative parts of the personality without trauma, then you are asserting that the creators of the theory of structural dissociation are spreading misinformation about their own theory.

If you believe the only way to experience multiple "distinct personality states" is through DID, then that means the World Health Organization is spreading misinformation about mental health.

And if you do believe these psychiatrists and institutions are indeed spreading medical misinformation, and that there's some scientific consensus that contradicts these works published by the American Psychiatric Association and the World Health Organization, then the burden of proof is on you to show that.

Something which sysmeds have been unable to do, because there is not one single psychiatrist who has ever gone on record claiming it's impossible to be plural without trauma.

https://www.tumblr.com/systeminquiry/764873762516697088/debunking-plurality-in-transgender-mental-health

Prefacing this by reminding people that Transgender Mental Health was reviewed and published by the American Psychiatric Association.

The main reason that this is being cited here is because of the reputation of the publisher in their commitment to making sure that their publications are accurate to our current understanding.

Asking this at the top for anyone who supports this "debunk," is your position that the American Psychiatric Association is publishing medical misinformation?

Anyway, I find that this is a pretty weak "debunking."

The first section defines being plural as "Having two or more people existing in one body or space" (Yarbrough, 2018). The highlighted sections on plurality have no source - these are unsubstantiated claims that contradict the scientific general consensus and research on how systems form, leaving the reader unable to determine whether the information came from a legitimate/reputable source or not. As it is now, the fact that the sections about plurality have no source seems to imply that the author couldn't find a legitimate source with their definition of plurality, instead fabricating explanations.

I'm not actually sure what would constitute a "legitimate source" for the purpose of defining plurality, given that "plural" is itself a community term popularized by non-disordered systems, as opposed to be more medicalized term "multiple" which had previously been used. It would be like trying to find a source for "Otherkin" or "Alterhuman." Any source that you get is going to be from online communities because they are community terms.

Also, the link they use that discusses how systems form is a now-deleted Tumblr post. I doubt it was very credible to begin with, but it's gone now so there's no way to know. 🤷‍♀️

This entire section makes claims about plurality that directly contradicts the body of existing research (see Dorahy et al., 2014 and Dell & O'Neil, 2009, but there are more) with no sources to support what they're saying. I cannot call this reliable or legitimate information if large sections are fictitious.

So basically, the reason this isn't reliable in saying non-traumagenic plurality exists is because... it says non-traumagenic plurality exists?

Can I just say something about a difference I notice when I cite sources compared to when anti-endos cite sources?

Generally, when I cite a source, I'll include a screenshot or quote so people know I'm not just making stuff up. Because I know that most people aren't going to click a 20 page document to read through to find whatever random line I'm using to support my position.

While the author of this Tumblr post does technically cite sources for their claim that Transgender Mental Health contradicts existing research, they don't provide quotes. And when you actually scroll down to their sources and read them, they aren't actually relevant. For example, the Dorahy source...

Entirely about dissociative identity disorder and doesn't address non-DID plurality AT ALL.

It is 100% useless and irrelevant to the topic of plurality in Transgender Mental Health, which discusses non-disordered plurality.

I can't find the Dell study, but seeing as it also is focused on DID, I'm going to assume that it also makes no statements on the existence of non-disordered plurality, and that the person doing this debunk is relying on readers not checking their sources.

The actual scientific scientific consensus!

This "debunk" is unable to find sources saying you need DID or trauma to be plural. The reason for that is because those sources DO NOT EXIST.

And the fact that they use these other sources that only talk about dissociative identity disorder so deceptively, and pointedly refuse to post the exact quotes or screenshots that would relate to plurality in general, makes me think that they know that.

It makes me think that they are intentionally lying and deceiving people, knowingly posting irrelevant sources with the hopes that nobody will look into them.

Many academic sources won't use the word plural because plural is a community term. But what they are painfully clear on is that you don't need to have a disorder to experience multiplicity.

For example, the World Health Organization's ICD-11 phrases this as a saying that you can experience multiple distinct personality states, a term it uses synonymously with DID alters, without having a disorder.

Back in 2012, when defining dissociation in trauma, the creators of the theory of structural dissociation commented on the possibility that spiritual practices and hypnosis could also cause the formation of self-conscious dissociative parts of the personality, albeit in a different way from dissociative identity disorder.

The actual consensus seems to be pretty clear to me.

Despite different words being used, all of these sources are saying the same thing. You don't need to have DID or trauma to be plural, you don't need to have DID or trauma to have multiple "self-conscious dissociative parts." You don't need to have DID or trauma to have multiple "distinct personality states."

The American Psychiatric Association did not publish misinformation when they published Transgender Mental Health. They did not publish something that went against a scientific consensus. They published statements that affirmed the scientific consensus.

To this day, system medicalists have continuously failed again and again to provide even so much as a single Doctor who has said that you need trauma to be plural.

To the extent that they provide sources for these claims, the sources never actually will say what they claim they do. They are consistently misrepresented just as they were by the OP.

Finally, there's one thing that I really want to drive home for sysmeds. Which is that, whether you like this book or not, it is still going to exist. It still was published by the American Psychiatric Association. It still is going to be used to educate psychiatrists and psychologists on how best to treat transgender people. And many of them are going to learn about plurality from this book.

It's very possible that if you are going to a psychologist or a psychiatrist right now for gender related issues, they could have read this book already and have been informed by it.

I just want you to remember that it exists, that it has the American Psychiatric Association's credibility backing it, and every psychiatrist who reads it is going to be just a little bit more accepting towards plurals and a little bit less tolerant towards your hatred.

Enjoy that final thought.

[juniorfor2]

Anyone else get the feeling that a lot of the Team Green people who are loving the HOTD adaption are really just conservative or weird liberal Catholics/Christians who loved the fantasy and action parts of the books but hated how much their F&B parallel got called out for its hypocrisy and (what is essentially) colonization practices. So now they are using the adaptation to back up all of their ideas about Team Green - who follow the Faith of the Seven/Catholic parallel - and prove that their actions are ok simply because “that’s what their god has told them.”

Bastardphobia? Hatred of queerness or non-modest acts? Attempts to stamp out any sign of “false gods”? All are parallels to the hatred and bigotry of a lot of modern Catholics or conservatives, who try to justify their actions by telling themselves that they have no choice because of their religion.

And because HOTD doesn’t just allow these beliefs, but also actively encourages them, it’s seems as if people feel like they can now absolve themselves for their own actions through Team Green and its ideology/practices.

[downsteepy]

i am very grateful that im not someone that has to deal with daily seizures but it is evil when it takes like a week and a half's worth of business days to recover from a seizure

[idol-emu-otori-official-archived]

╰┈➤ SHUFFLE AU

DESTINATION POINT (DP)

the Leo/need adjacent unit, composed of Ichika Hoshino, Airi Momoi, Ena Shinonome, and Minori Hanasato. ☆ a girl who's lost her friendships, and three others searching for their worth.

about the group's name: ♡ originally, i had "from here to there" in mind, but someone from the Discord gave me the name "destination point" and i thought it was much better, so i went with that. ♪

about the SEKAI: ♡ the Train SEKAI. no one knows when it left, or where it's going - just that it never stops. it's the perfect place for those who feel like they're lagging behind. just close your eyes and let yourself be carried away, right? but maybe there's something you can do… starts with a Miku and a Rin. the former's hardworking and talented, but the latter struggles - Rin is somewhat influenced by Ena's (and, to a lesser extent, Airi's) jealousy towards others.

•

Ichika hasn't managed to rekindle her friendship with her friends, and she's not doing particularly well. At one point, she meets Airi - who just quit being an idol. The two start talking and become friends, at which point they end up forming a band together. Airi wants to try finding a place where she could finally be taken seriously.

Ena's invited by Airi, and Minori - who had failed auditions recently - ends up inspired by Ichika's kindness, Airi's drive and Ena's determination, which is how she joins. (Haruka completely gave up on being an idol; something Minori is saddened by.)

In my mind, Ichika plays the guitar; Airi, the drums; Minori, the keyboard and Ena, the bass.

-

IDEAL HEAVEN! (IH)

the MORE MORE JUMP! adjacent unit, composed of Mafuyu Asahina, Emu Otori, Mizuki Akiyama and Shizuku Hinomori. ☆ an up-and-coming idol group that combines cuteness and sophistication.

about the SEKAI: ♡ quite similar to the Empty SEKAI, but with some idol influences - a broken stage with no one in sight. there's no bright lights, no colorful props. nothing. that SEKAI both comforts and pains Mafuyu. home to a lone Miku. sweet, hopeful, but genuinely crushed by the pressure she's feeling.

•

Mafuyu's mother wants a perfect child. idols are very frequently represented as being perfect - so, she decides that her daughter should become one, too. Mafuyu's not keen on the idea, but that's her mother; she's obedient, so she goes along with it.

Shizuku still quit Cheerful * Days, but instead of stopping altogether she ends up with Mafuyu. Emu wants to make people smile, but no one ever came; Wonderlands × Showtime was never a thing. so she decides to become an idol instead, even if it means she'll never bring back the Wonder Stage to its former state.

Mizuki's half-dragged into IDEAL HEAVEN! by Emu, who saw them looking with interest at idol merch. after bringing them to meet Mafuyu and Shizuku, Mizuki ends up accepting - the idea of wearing cute clothes and being called cute doesn't seem too terrible.

-

READY MADE SUCCESS (RMS)

the Vivid BAD SQUAD adjacent unit, composed of Haruka Kiritani, An Shiraishi, Shiho Hinomori and Akito Shinonome. ☆ two street musicians chasing after their dream, and the two girls they brought with them.

about the SEKAI: ♡ the Street SEKAI. weirdly, it seems Haruka's idol background has somewhat influenced its appearance. its inhabitants are Miku, Meiko and Len. this Miku is levelheaded, but it seems like there's something holding her back from going all-in...

•

after quitting being an idol, Haruka is invited by An to join her.

An's never met Kohane, and she never found a partner. Haruka is hesitant for a moment before deciding to give it a shot, though she keeps struggling with singing. Shiho tries getting more experience, meets Akito. no one really knows how these two ended together, but they both have a similar drive and take music very seriously.

eventually, they all start working together. Haruka deals with her guilt and, while she doubts she'll become an idol again, she's mostly made peace with what happened.

-

STARLIGHT ☆ EVERMORE (S ☆ E)

the Wonderlands × Showtime adjacent unit, composed of Tsukasa Tenma, Saki Tenma, Kanade Yoisaki and Toya Aoyagi. ☆ a strange troupe of people who aim to help others through their performances.

about the SEKAI: ♡ still very much Tsukasa's, so it's the Wonderland SEKAI. [kanade goes there for the first time and dies. alas, they're still a shut-in and this place is simply too colorful for her poor eyes.] starts with a Miku and a Kaito, though this version of the former uses far less onomatopoeias.

Tsukasa figures he needs to show the world how much of a star he is himself, and he drags his siblings into it (with varying degrees of willingness).

a part of Saki still wishes she could be in a band with her friends; she's only somewhat managed to repair her friendship with Ichika. but she's still happy to do something fun and lighthearted after all her struggles. Toya's very excited to do something with Tsukasa and his siblings. he also gets to stick it to his dad, which, honestly - is a bonus.

out of the three, Kanade is obviously the most hesitant about the whole thing. but she sees Tsukasa's drive to make others happy, something she shares with him, so she ends up agreeing. Kanade is… slightly healthier physically on account of the stubborn people looking after her, as well as all the exercise she does she does as part of Starlight ☆ Evermore. mentally? eh… we'll get there. i need her traumatized to be interesting. <3

-

LONELY SYNDROME (LS)

the 25-ji, Nightcord de. adjacent unit, composed of Nene Kusanagi, Rui Kamishiro, Honami Mochizuki and Kohane Azusawa. ☆ hidden behind avatars, these citizens of the web tell stories online.

about the SEKAI: ♡ the arcade SEKAI. this Miku is shy and withdrawn, though she one day hopes she'll be able to break out of her shell, just like Nene. alongside her is Luka - she has a bit of a teasing attitude and a catlike personality, but she always does her best to boost Nene's confidence.

about the group's name: ♡ syndrome refers to a group of symptoms - i paired it with the word lonely because i felt like it represented the atmosphere of an arcade. you're connected with people who share your interests, but at the same time, you're sort of separate from them. surrounded by people, but utterly alone…

•

Nene's social anxiety hasn't gotten better over the years. since she never joins Wonderlands × Showtime, she doesn't learn how to fight her stage fright.

but, she finds an alternate solution; using an avatar online. it's less stress-inducing, and it lets her pursue acting, in a way - it's not what Nene wants, but it's close enough. she figures she could be satisfied with that. Rui ends up figuring out what she's doing, and asks if he can help. Nene doesn't really have any reason to say no, so they start working together.

as for Honami and Kohane, they ended up on Nene's channel by pure accident. but her performances quickly became a comfort to them, since they were struggling at the time (the former because she no longer had her friends, the latter because of her lack of confidence).

unfortunately, ignoring your problems only goes so far, and eventually, her feelings give birth to the arcade SEKAI.

[nem0-nee]

On "heavy inspiration"

First, I'd like to apologize for the contents of this post. I do not wish to be a blog that just complains about matters, but I feel like I need to say this at least once.

If you don't agree with what I say, that's perfectly fine. We can agree to disagree, that is all.

It never fails to anger me when I see any issue related to tracing and "heavy inspiration." These are definitely tools when it comes to learning more about art, but there's definitely a line that dictates whether the use of those methods are acceptable or not.

I will not be naming names, but back then there was a blog which was "heavily inspired" by me. I'm flattered that I inspire people out there, but this case was truly something else.

[NOTE: If you recognize the account I'm referring to, please don't bring them up. I don't want this to escalate, nor do I want to stir up any issues. This is just to discuss what happened.]

There was a time where I've made a character sheet/template for one of my OCs, intending it to be for her specifically; every element about it reflected her as a character in general. A few days later, I see that a certain blog had done the same with their own sheet. The only difference was that it was all mirrored. I commend them for giving me credit, however I was not on board with what they did.

DISCLAIMER #1: Yes, I am aware that I may sound like a whiny baby for being possessive over a character template. It truly sounds absurd, and even now I don't know if what I felt was valid. But my reason for it was that I had specifically designed that sheet for THAT character. It was completely original, as I had made it all from scratch. It took me a while to conceptualize it all. Then someone comes along, taking and running with it without asking me? Can you blame me for being upset?

I didn't want to cause an issue, so I privately settled this issue with them. I made it clear with them that they should've asked me first before doing it, but also added in that they don't have to take the post down. I may be protective of my works, but I'm not a jerk to force someone to take down their own hard work. Plus, I didn't want to cause any drama nor controversy over a character sheet, so I just kept my mouth shut.

Additionally, I made a post as a measure to make sure this incident doesn't repeat.

You'd think this would all stop, but it surprisingly didn't! A few months later, I released a Birthday Union Card for one of my characters. I took some creative liberties with it and added my own twist to things. So, I gave my OC a different kind of bow and nail polish. A few weeks later and what do I see? The same kind of bow and nail polish are on their own birthday card too!!

DISCLAIMER #2: I am aware I don't own these "creative liberties" or certain aspects of design. I would've brushed this off as a coincidence if they hadn't taken "major inspiration" from me before, but this was the second time it all happened. I was beginning to get paranoid; I felt like they were keeping note of everything I do so they could do the same. damn. thing. Plus from what I know, I don't think anyone has done this before? Maybe that's just me...

Don't get me even started with the post formats! I did things a certain way back then, mixing up the font styles, incorporating colors, cringeworthy quotes- you name it. Would you believe me that they got inspired by me to this degree? That they would format posts that contained similar content as me IN A SIMILAR WAY?

DISCLAIMER #3: I am aware that I don't own post formats. My point here is that they were truly coming across as a copycat. I believe they could've changed things up for the sake of originality. But I suppose you can't have everything nice in life.

Every time they post something, the first thing that comes to mind is "what did they copy from me this time?" And it's truly a shame. Any slight resemblance or similarity to what I did stirred panic within me. It wasn't healthy, and I felt like I couldn't do anything about it.

Though, I must admit I'm not entirely in the right for this. Thinking about it, I may have enabled them due to my lack of communication.

FAULT #1: I must acknowledge my fault for not telling them off enough. I really thought they'd just eventually stop and learn from their mistakes. I just didn't have the heart to tell them any more. Being accused of copying is not a great thing, and I didn't really want to be that person. Unfortunately, look where that got me.

FAULT #2: It's also my fault I decided to follow them back despite the first instance and didn't block them. Admittedly, I have a bad habit of wanting to see the good in people. So I assumed that they would change in the long run.

Things only stopped when I finally blocked them and notified them about it. I don't think they're active on here anymore, and sometimes I worry if I was the reason for that. I wished it didn't come to this point.

This is a cautionary tale for fellow artists out there. Please, don't take things without permission. This whole incident took a toll on me for months, and I still fear instances of these. Some artists may be more lenient and wouldn't mind, but there are definitely others who are not okay with "heavy inspiration." Always, ALWAYS ask.

[supreme-burrito]

You know what I just realized

So Spirit of Justice came out in 2016 near the end of the 3DS’s life span.

Ace Attorney thrived because its core game mechanics (not counting the GBA era games from Japan) heavily relied on the mechanics of two consoles from Nintendo. Yes, it’s possible to play these games on other consoles, but you don’t get that same experience as you did in their original format. I never played an Ace Attorney on in its original format so I don’t know what that experience feels like. I played the original trilogy and the Sholmes games on PlayStation and the remainder of the series that is available to the West (I do plan on getting around to playing Investigations 2 at some point) on mobile.

The PlayStation experience is alright because the graphics are an inherent glow up, but in my opinion, the best, most current way to experience the Ace Attorney games is through mobile. You don’t need the dual screens, just having the ability to play via touching the screen is sufficient enough.

Now here is the depressing realization. It’s been almost 7 years since a brand new AA game as been released to Western audiences. All other new entries have been either remakes or ports. The last new game for Japan was in 2017 with The Great Ace Attorney 2: Resolve, almost 6 years ago.

Everyone wants AA7. I want AA7, your grandma wants AA7. However, as I see it, because of the simplicity of Ace Attorney game mechanics, but it shouldn’t be difficult to make a new game.

Unless they completely overall the system and mechanics entirely so the franchise can survive on future at-home consoles OR they stick to the mobile market where the game is currently the best and current experience. The most recent release to the West for Ace Attorney as far as I can tell, was the original trilogy to mobile which was a year ago as of yesterday according to Wikipedia. Which makes me ask, why the three year gap between EVERY OTHER PORT of the original trilogy and THEN have this disclaimer on the App Store?

My point in all this is my hopes for AA7 ever coming to fruition are slim to none due to Capcom and the whole project got canned

OR

Due to searching up some information, we might be getting Ace Attorney 7 soon

I did some digging and found out that back at the end of 2020, Capcom had a massive data breach where a handful of projects got leaked including the following: RE4 remake, Street Fighter 6, Dragon’s Dogma 2, and AA7.

The prior three projects have already been announced/released as of this year.

Capcom does not give specifics on what was let out, so all I can find about this specific list of games is from old articles talking about AA7 speculation and the leak. According to this roadmap, supposedly the main production phase of AA7 was supposed to begin around October of 2021.

This is just my speculation (like all the other game articles), but depending on how much of the main game mechanics have been overhauled (if at all) or if they’re just making Ace Attorney with a glow up, it will most likely be later at the end of this year or sometime around this time next year and might be announced during Capcom’s biggest round of game release announcements.

I could be 100% wrong or I once again have the deduction skills of Sherlock Holmes and gift of prophecy from Apollo.

2024: Gay Lawyers 2: Electic Boogaloo

And yes Yagami you count too

Who knows he might get a cameo in Yakuza 8 (YES I KNOW THE SERIES IS CALLED LIKE A DRAGON NOW BUT I WIL ALWAYS REFER TO IT AS YAKUZA. It’s the same reason it’s why I will always refer to Cole Cassidy as McCree. Because the change was made solely for political reasons and was kind of unnecessary)

[david-watts]

I really am beginning to get murderous impulses