#don't practice these things or in most cases condone them!

[widowshill]

happy aro week to everyone who celebrates. give your local aro a hundred dollars to compensate for their suffering (me).

[hayakawalove]

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

Summary: You're happy with your husband, you swear. Except you actually aren't. You're so unhappy in fact, that you find yourself in a cheap bar late one night. Two men find you, and it leads to a night of fun.

A/N: Yeah. It goes without saying that I DON'T CONDONE CHEATING! I don't know why I wrote this. I actually used to really hate cheating fics, so much so that I would filter the tag out. They used to trigger me super bad. I'm not sure why I wrote this. Maybe as a way of doing exposure therapy, maybe just to practice writing things I normally don't write. Whatever the case is, here you go. I hope y'all enjoy! As always, I appreciate your guys comments so much, seriously!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Cheating (You Cheat on Your Husband), Hand Jobs, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Protected Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Praise Kink, Cum Swallowing, Hook-Up, No Strings Attached, Reader Feels Bad (Doesn't Last Long), Hair-pulling, Female Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 6,154

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

You’re happy. 

You really are. 

Those are the words you find yourself repeating like a mantra, a self assuring prayer on a loop in your mind. 

You have a great life. 

A wonderful job, a nice house, the perfect husband. 

People live their entire lives searching for what you’ve been so graciously dealt. 

So why did it feel like you were lying to yourself when you repeated that mantra? 

The words felt uneasy in your mind at first, the weight of them feeling unknown on your tongue. You’d never really thought about it before. Were you happy? The more you told yourself that you were, the more the saying turned your stomach sour. 

You were happy. You were happy. You were happy. 

You weren’t happy. 

At first, it began like a tingle in the back of your throat. Not disruptive, but most certainly there, no matter how hard you tried to get rid of it. It was the most obvious when you felt like you should be grateful for something.

Before going to bed at night, finishing a big project at work, when your husband kissed your cheek. 

The doubt simmers in your gut, barely a blip on your radar.

It was hardly noticeable, until it wasn’t. 

The thought became a raging forest fire, drowning out all your other senses. Every day was the same. It was so boring. Nothing lit a spark in you. 

You weren’t sure how to even remedy it. Not only that, but you would listen to your friends talk about their lives, and how it was monotonous for them as well. Maybe life just had to be like this. 

There’s a pit in your stomach as you walk to your car. You really didn’t want to go home tonight. Not when you knew your loving husband would be waiting for you; not when you knew you had all the reasons in the world to be happy, but you just weren’t. 

“Hey, sexy lady!” A man’s voice rings out around you. 

When you flick your head around you see a man who’s much older than you sizing you up. Your knee jerk reaction is to be disgusted, but you aren’t, not fully at least. 

You’re flattered. 

When was the last time someone paid you a compliment like that? Your husband told you you were beautiful all the time, but it felt rehearsed, like the words had lost their meaning. Sure, a stranger calling you sexy was a bit half assed, but at least it was real.

“Thank you! But I’m married-“ you reply, even though the man is long gone by now. 

You straighten your shoulders and open your car door, accepting the fluke. 

~~~

You’re craving the attention again. 

You feel like an addict craving their next hit. You didn’t want anything else, other than a bit of attention from a stranger. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

Over the next couple of days you craft a plan. You were going to get dressed up and go to a bar, nothing major. You just wanted to put yourself in a situation where you could receive attention, maybe get a couple of compliments. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Your husband texted you to inform you that he would be at the office late tonight. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that shoots through you when you tell him that it’s okay, you wouldn’t be doing much anyway. 

Liar.

The dress you’re wearing feels a bit too tight, fitting to your form like another layer of skin. You hadn’t worn it in years. There never was any need to. You and your husband didn't go on dates much anymore, instead choosing to settle down for movie nights or dinner. 

Your makeup is more extreme than usual. It highlights all your favorite features, and the colors are a bit dramatic. Even though it felt different, you had to admit that you looked good. 

You fiddle with your ring, watching the way it catches the light. Reluctantly, you pull it off and put it in your purse. You feel naked not wearing it. Hopefully, more people would compliment you if you didn’t have it on.

You sling your purse over your shoulder and turn your phone off, you wouldn’t be needing it anyway, sliding your high heels on. 

The bar you decide on is on the furthest edge of town, in a much seedier neighborhood. On any chosen day you wouldn’t be caught dead on this side of town, and neither would any of your loved ones. Which is precisely why you chose to be there in the first place. 

Nobody would recognize you. Not that it would be a problem if they did, you remind yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong. 

The bar is loud as you enter, eager voices discussing a variety of topics over cheap alcohol. The smell of liquor is strong, the astringent scent nearly burning the inside of your nostrils. 

You slide over to the counter and take a seat on one of the rickety stools. It’d be a miracle if it doesn’t break under your weight, it looks like it’s two seconds from collapsing on its own. 

You order a mixed drink and smile as the bartender passes it to you, your heart fluttering at the way he grins back. 

Validation springs throughout your body. It feels like you’re being rejuvenated, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

See? What you were doing wasn’t so bad. 

“What's a fine young thing like yourself doing over here?” 

When you turn around to catch a glimpse of the man shamelessly hitting on you, you feel your stomach turn. You had never seen someone so attractive before. 

A head full of soft white hair, messy in an almost endearing way. You can’t catch a glimpse of his eyes due to the sunglasses that rest on his nose. On anyone else it would come off as douchey, it was dark out and you were inside a bar, but for him it seemed oddly fitting. 

There’s a cocky grin on his face as he leans against the counter where you sit. He’s close enough that you can smell the soap he used to scrub himself with. An intoxicating scent, cedarwood and bergamot.

“Enjoying some alone time.” You reply, deciding on playing hard to get. 

It would be nice to see him continue to try, even if you didn’t make it easy. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just had to tell you how gorgeous you were.” 

He didn’t sound sorry, didn’t look it either.

“I know.” You take a small sip of you drink, staring up at him as you do so. 

You would never be so forward in your day to day life. You much preferred to be humble. Humble was cute, humble was safe. 

You were tired of being safe. 

The strangers lips spread even further and you catch a glimpse of him running his tongue along his teeth. You can’t see, but you feel like he’s staring down at you, gaze assessing your features. You hope he likes what he sees. 

“Sir, can I get another one of these for her?” He flags down the bartender and motions to your drink. 

“I didn’t tell you I wanted another one.” You reply, stirring the drink you’re currently nursing. 

The man beside you raises a brow, before sliding out a wad of cash. He hands it to the bartender without looking away from you, confidence leaking from his pores. 

“You shouldn’t have to. A gentleman should be able to notice.”

You feel a heavy weight drop on top of you. He was right. True gentlemen should take note of the small things, right? 

Your husband hardly ever did. 

The crack inside your heart begins to deepen; you know there’s not going to be a way back from this. Do you mind that you won’t be able to recover? 

No. 

You don’t. 

You grin at him and toss back the rest of your drink before taking the new one from him. It’s cold against your hand, a sickly sweet scent wafting up from the cup. 

“Who’s your little friend?” A second voice enters.

You flick your eyes from the man beside you to see who’s talking. Long black locks and chestnut eyes. 

“Suguru. This is…” The first man talks.

You state your name, nerves beginning to take hold in your chest. When it was just one of them it was fine, but two of them? 

“I’m Satoru Gojo, and this is Suguru Geto.” The original man says. “Pleased to meet you.” He finishes, dipping his face down to look at you above his glasses. 

Electric cerulean greets you, nearly taking your breath away. 

He smirks and pushes his glasses back up before tossing a look over his shoulder towards his friend.

Suguru circles around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes follow his movements. It feels like he’s sizing you up, a dark gleam in his gaze as he settles in the spot beside you.

It feels a bit like the walls are caving in on you, except the metaphorical walls are in the form of two bulky men. 

You wanted attention, that much was true, but you weren’t sure you were ready for this amount. 

“What brings you to this dive bar?” The one called Suguru questions. 

You take a sip of your drink as you ponder a response. What should you tell them? You were here with friends? The truth? 

“Needed to get out of the house.” You decide on. 

Well, it wasn’t completely wrong. 

“So you decided to come to this shit hole?” Satoru says. 

“You decided to come here too, didn’t you?” You reply back.

Satoru looks away, his bottom lip pouting out. It was a shit hole. The two men looked oddly out of place. Their clothes looked to be worth more than half your rent, and there was an effortless elegance flowing from them. You were sure that they belonged anywhere else. 

“We were just passing through town, and this was the first place we found.” Suguru responds for Satoru. 

You wonder how true that statement is. 

Could it be that the both of them are also running away from something in their personal lives? 

You could only hope. 

Maybe it would make you feel less guilty. 

Suguru’s nursing a whiskey now, lips shining in the low light from the tantalizing liquid. It’s a bit hypnotizing, watching the way his lips pucker as he takes measured sips. 

You feel like nothing can break you from the trance you’re in, nothing that is, until something brushes your thighs. It’s Satoru’s fingers, skimming your skin under the guise of tugging your dress down. 

“I like your dress,” Satoru murmurs, his knuckles causing goosebumps to erupt along your thighs. 

You watch as he slowly drags his fingers back, letting your eyes trail up until you reach his face, only to see that he’s already staring at you. 

“Yeah?” You ask, breathless.

Satoru hums and flicks his gaze back down to your legs. There’s lead in your stomach as you watch his pupils flicker. You can only guess what’s on his mind. 

“Say, do you have any plans for the night?” Suguru questions, settling his arm around the back of your chair. 

His thumb brushes against your shoulder, making your breath stagger. The ambiance is more than heavy, a thick understanding settling over the three of you. 

“No, I don't.” You take one last sip of your drink before looking at the boys once more. 

“Want to go have some fun, then?” Satoru asks, an evil glint in his eyes. 

You begin to understand how Eve could not resist the temptation.

“Please,” you all but plead.

You reach a hand out and Satoru laces his fingers in yours, tugging you along until you’re forced to navigate through the crowds in the bar. There’s a heat behind you, and you register it as Suguru’s presence shortly following after you. 

There’s something bubbling up in your stomach, anticipation you think, as you watch the back of Satoru’s head. 

He’s so tall. 

You briefly wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair. Would it be soft? Would he like the way it feels? 

Satoru pushes the bar door open, a gust of wind whipping your face. The sensation almost shocks you to your senses, but Satoru doesn’t allow it. 

He slows down and stops beside you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You’re being tugged beside him, smooshed against his lean frame as he walks you to their car. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” he comments, whispering into the crown of your head. 

Your stomach flips. You think he may be right. 

Suguru walks ahead and spins keys around his fingers before unlocking the car. You’re unable to recognize the brand, only able to see that it’s expensive. 

Satoru opens the passenger door and you’re greeted with fine black leather. It dawns on you that someone’s going to have to sit in the back. 

How was this going to work? 

Were you supposed to sit in the back? 

Wouldn’t that be weird? 

When you come to, you see that Satoru’s already sitting in the front seat, his hand holding yours as he looks up at you with an expectant gaze. 

“Come on.” He murmurs. 

He pulls you closer, spreading his legs to make room for you. He wants you to sit on his lap? 

You look around, noticing how empty the parking lot is. You were already making bad choices, so you figure you may as well go all in. 

You inch in the car, settling on top of his lap. His thighs are warm beneath you, your exposed legs shifting back and forth. He shuts the door, settling his hands on your body while Suguru starts the car. You never once stop to think about how this may be considered dangerous, all you can think about is how you want more of it. 

“Ready, princess?” Suguru’s voice is like velvet as it comes out. 

As ready as you’ll ever be. 

“Yes.” You fake confidence, shining a grin that feels entirely too exaggerated. 

Suguru chuckles and reverses the car, the action fluid. Satoru’s still holding onto your thighs, the proximity to him causing your heart to race. You don’t know who to focus on. Even their hands have you in a trance. Suguru’s fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles making your mouth water, while Satoru holds your legs, his palms suspiciously moving further up.

You can feel the outline of something beneath you, and you think you know what it is, but you want to be sure. 

You shimmy your ass a bit, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Satoru. There’s a dangerous grin on his face as he looks at you over his glasses. 

“Careful there, baby.” He warns. 

Your mouth immediately dries, desperation crawling up the back of your throat. The outline below you is much thicker than it was several minutes ago. He was hard. 

The engine stops, and your stomach turns over. You’re stopped at a hotel. It’s on the nicer side of town, luckily the part of the city none of your friends ventured to. The building in front of you is at least twenty stories high, the air of wealth floating over to you. 

Just what did these guys do for a living? 

“Come on.” Satoru says, patting your thigh twice. 

You snap out of it and hop out of the car, eyes drawing to the two men next to you. Suguru stuffs his keys in his pocket and slides beside you, snaking his arm up your back. His hand rests against the nape of your neck, softly holding you. The act feels borderline protective.

You peer up at him and he grants you a smile before leading you next to him, guiding you by your neck towards the hotel entrance. It’s even nicer on the inside than it is on the outside. 

A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, you know that it must be made of glass but at first glance it looks like diamonds. There’s little dots along the walls from the reflection of the fine material, hypnotizing you. A soft tune echoes in the background, Mozart you think, that lulls you into a sense of relaxation. 

“Good afternoon.” The check in attendant nods at Suguru. 

Does this scene look weird to him? 

Suguru acts as though it’s completely normal, dipping his head down in response before facing forward again, heading towards the elevators. Maybe it was normal for Suguru. 

Maybe they’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t special. You have to remind yourself that that’s the point. You weren’t any better. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’re objectively worse. Tonight wouldn’t mean anything. Just a quick, nasty fuck. 

Out of your periphery you see Satoru jab his finger into the elevator button. He seems a bit impatient. Excited, maybe. 

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking up as the numbers on the screen decrease, indicating the elevator was inching closer and closer. 

He’s a bit beautiful. 

You knew that before. But his beauty looks different under the fine chandelier light of the hotel. The way he looked in the dingy bar, although still incredibly attractive, was a far cry from how he appears now. Almost ethereal, you’d say. The warm glow of the lights above make him look like a painting. 

Suguru’s the same as Satoru. The lighting and surroundings of the hotel are making him appear even more stunning than before. When you peer up at him, he glances down and grins back at you. It feels like you’ve been caught red handed. You look away quickly, just in time to watch the elevator doors slide open. 

Satoru hops in and waits for you and Suguru to enter before pressing ‘18’. 

The music inside the elevator is much more quiet, yet you’re still grateful for it. You’re nervous, your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. It was hard to believe that you were really doing this. The soft piano helps soothe your nerves, as you will your mind to stop racing.

Suguru’s hand slides off your neck and you find yourself almost missing the sensation. The warmth from his palm fades away, along with the sense of protection it provided. 

You only have a moments reprieve before the other man jumps at you. 

Satoru’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his tongue smoothing along your bottom lip. You groan in surprise before following along, letting your hands slide up his shirt. 

He’s muscular. 

Images flash in your brain of what he may look like shirtless. Your mind paints up a mouthwatering scene, full of hard lines and bulging muscles.

Your mouth opens to accept him, his tongue quickly entangling with yours. It’s hot and messy. Spit dribbles from the sides of your lips, and you can hardly catch your breath. 

“Don’t be so greedy, Satoru.” Suguru chides. 

Shit, you had almost forgotten he was there. 

Embarrassment fills your veins instantly. It suddenly hits you that you were going to have sex with both of them. How was this going to work? The idea seems daunting. 

Satoru grunts in retaliation and you almost think he doesn’t want to share. The man proves you wrong though, when he tugs you forward towards him. His body crashes against yours, and you have to hold his firm biceps to stabilize yourself. Suguru glides behind you, his hands quickly finding your hips. 

You’re trapped. 

Satoru parts from your lips, a thin string of saliva snapping once he removes himself. Your mind is crowded by lust as you look up at him with heavy lids. 

You want more. 

It’s a good thing there were two of them. 

Suguru grips your chin from behind and turns your head sideways, pressing his mouth against yours. His lips aren’t as sweet as Satoru, but it makes your knees weak all the same. 

Suguru is more methodical in his approach. He waits until you’re reaching a hand down, squeezing his arm against your waist. With a chuckle he parts his lips, sliding his tongue along your mouth, the movement painfully slow.

Satoru has moved his focus to your neck now. He’s kissing and biting down the column of your throat, the heat from his breathing making you shiver. You use your other hand to glide through his hair, urging him forward to continue his attack on your throat. 

Only when he starts sucking do you realize the severity of his actions. 

“N-no hickeys.” You tear yourself away from Suguru to say. 

Satoru looks at you for a second before chuckling, dragging his tongue up your throat. “Sure thing, princess.” 

Your shoulders sag in relief as you feel Satoru begin to go easy on you, only licking and kissing your tender flesh. You’re grateful you caught him in time. 

Suguru kisses you once more and you moan, a sound that spurs the two men on. Satoru raises a hand to paw at your breasts through your dress, and Suguru’s grip has tightened. 

The elevator dings just in time. 

Your entanglement felt longer than a life time, but it couldn’t have been more than two minutes. Suguru reluctantly tears himself away from you, watching as you catch your breath. Satoru is a bit more stubborn, only stopping once you say his name. 

Luckily the hallway in front of you is empty. The three of you step out, and you let them guide you to their room. 

“Here we are.” Satoru murmurs. 

Suguru, apparently master of the keys, lifts up a card and unlocks the door. When it opens he pushes the door in, letting you and Satoru go first. 

The room is huge. 

There’s a living room with a decent sized kitchen, along with two doors that can only lead to what you assume to be bedrooms. 

“Home sweet home,” Satoru lifts up a hand, waving it towards their hotel room. “Well, I guess hotel sweet hotel-“ 

“Satoru.” You all but plead, looking up at him desperately. 

His eyes flick down to you and he grins before stepping closer. 

“Sorry baby, you need something, huh?” He crashes his lips against yours again. 

The kiss is even more urgent this time around. Satoru lifts his glasses up blindly, before walking backwards to lead you further inside. 

You reach behind your back and pat around, trying to feel for your zipper. You need your clothes off now. When you don’t feel the flimsy tab, you turn around and look over your shoulder as if that will help any.  

“Keep having your fun, princess.” Suguru murmurs, his fingers expertly finding the elusive zipper. 

You whine and face forward again, kissing Satoru once more. Suguru carefully pulls it down, a cool rush of air grazing your back once it’s open. 

He leans down and kisses your spine, slowly making his way up while you shove your tongue down Satoru’s throat. 

The room’s spinning, you’re sure of it. 

Suguru takes his lips off your back so he can slide the dress off your shoulders, his hands grazing your skin causing you to break out in goosebumps. 

The dress falls to the floor, leaving you exposed in only your bra and underwear. It was an expensive set, one you had bought years ago yet hadn’t gotten much of a use out of. 

Satoru pulls his lips away to glance down at your figure before looking back up at your face. Your lips are swollen, eyes fluttering in need. 

“Shit…” he whispers to himself before kissing you again. 

Suguru’s hands roam your body, letting you have your playtime as he explores your skin. His palms glide against your stomach and thighs, moving slowly. 

You must be soaked already. 

Satoru tears himself back again, hands reaching for his shirt. He undresses in a matter of seconds, leaving himself only in his underwear. His body is even more amazing than you had conjured up in your mind. 

He was muscular without being overtly so, leaning more towards the body of a runner. His skin is pale, matching the tone of his hair. 

You run your hands up his stomach to his chest, letting your fingers dance along the grooves of his muscles. His head hangs low as he watches you drag your nails against him. 

Suguru stands next to you as he pulls his shirt off his head, the action catching your eye. You turn around and allow your gaze to float down to his chest. He looks just as perfect as Satoru. 

You tug Suguru closer and kiss him, his slow pace allowing you a chance to recuperate. 

“Want you to sit on my face.” Satoru says, his hands skirting along your body. 

So much for recuperating. 

“O-okay.” 

Satoru leads you and Suguru into one of the bedrooms before making himself comfortable on the bed. His form takes up the whole length of the bed, head at the end as he looks up expectantly. 

You look over your shoulder to see Suguru watching you. His lids are heavy as he stares at you, desire unmistakably falling over his features. He dips his head as if he was comforting you, or giving you permission. You slide your underwear off before tossing a leg over Satoru’s face, lowering yourself just above his mouth. You’re facing the end of the bed, Suguru standing in front of you. 

“So fucking wet.” Satoru mumbles to himself before sticking his tongue out, tugging your hips down until he meets your pussy. 

“F-fuck!” You moan, your hand latching onto his white locks. 

“That feel good?” Suguru asks. 

You bite your lip and look up at him, watching as his hand reaches down to unbuckle his pants. The sight makes you flustered. He maintains eye contact as he tugs them down, his cock still contained behind his underwear. 

“Open.” He says in a hushed tone. 

Your lips part, jaw dropping open at his order. 

“Atta girl.” 

Suguru eases his thumb into your mouth, watching as your lips wrap around him. You suck softly, bobbing your head as you lick the sides of his thumb. 

He looks delighted as you perform for him. You try your best to focus on the task at hand, but Satoru is making it increasingly difficult. His tongue is sticking out, flicking against your swollen clit. He drags it down before teasing your entrance, poking in several times before retreating to suck on your nub. 

You tug at his hair, grinding your body down against him. His hands have a tight grip on your ass, helping you hump against his mouth. 

“There you go, ride my fucking face.” Satoru growls below you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head, the pleasure coursing through your body. 

Suguru uses his other hand to pull down his boxers, allowing his cock to jump free. Everything feels too good. When you look back down, the sight makes you lightheaded. His cock is hard, tip leaky with anticipation as he watches you. 

He pumps it several times before reaching down to grab your free hand. Suguru wraps it around his cock, giving you free reign to pump him. 

His thumb never leaves your mouth. You’re sort of glad it doesn’t. If it did, you aren’t sure how loud you would be moaning. 

Suguru looks at your face as you begin to jack him off. He’s far more interested in watching you suck his thumb.

Satoru sucks on your clit, his eyes closed as he focuses on your body. You can feel yourself drip into him. 

“You gonna cum for us? On Satoru’s face?” Suguru coos. 

You moan around his thumb and squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck, you were going to cum on Satoru’s face. Soon, probably. 

Your palm slides down Suguru’s cock as your fist fucks him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, his precum making the glide that much easier. 

Satoru speeds his actions up, his lips wrapped tightly around your nub. Your body tightens up in response, and you begin to cum. 

Satoru aides you through your orgasm, sucking the entire time as you twist above him. Your hand slows against Suguru’s cock as you pant around his thumb. 

Satoru flicks his tongue against your clit slowly before removing his mouth from you, allowing you to slide off his face. 

He sits up once you’re off, his chin completely covered in your essence. You’re almost embarrassed. Satoru looks unaffected, letting his tongue clean the cum on his lips. 

“Let’s go baby.” Satoru says. 

Suguru eases his thumb from your mouth, chuckling at the whimper you let out. You were really starting to get into it, too. 

Satoru helps you get onto your hands and knees, facing forward towards Suguru. Suguru reaches down to unclasp your bra, pulling it off your body before tossing it to the side. Your nipples instantly harden from the cold air. 

Satoru smoothes his hands down your back while admiring your trembling form beneath him. Aftershocks from your previous orgasm were still racking through your body. He tears his gaze away to look at the bedside table, grumbling before he finds what he’s looking for. You hear the sound of a condom being opened as you stare at Suguru’s cock. 

Would you be able to fit that in your mouth? 

“Alright,” Satoru mumbles, sliding the condom on before lining himself up with your entrance.

You part your lips, waiting for Suguru to slide himself in your mouth. Satoru’s cock pokes at your entrance, pushing past as he sinks into your pussy. You groan, your walls rushing to accommodate the stretch. 

Satoru’s jaw is clenched as he looks down, watching your pussy greedily accept him, squeezing his cock until he’s finally all of the way in. 

He pauses for a moment, and you slip Suguru’s cock into your mouth. His tip eases past your lips, precum dripping onto your taste buds as he pushes himself in further. 

You gag a bit, nose flaring as you try to breathe around his cock. It’s more difficult than you anticipated, drool sliding down your chin as you go as far as you can. 

Satoru begins to shallowly pump inside you, while Suguru starts to rock his hips. 

It doesn’t take long before Satoru is fucking you properly, the slick of your cum making it easy to glide inside you. Suguru lets you control the pace, bobbing your head against his cock as you swallow around him. 

Satoru pushes against your gspot with each thrust, the sensation making you moan around Suguru. 

This felt so good, you were left wondering why you didn’t do it sooner. 

Satoru groans behind you, feeling like his cock was being choked by your pussy. He reaches down and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. You moan and your pussy tightens around Satoru in reaction. 

“Thaaaat’s it.” Satoru sounds almost breathless. “Bet your husband doesn’t fuck you this good, does he?” 

You stutter around Suguru, confusion sparking inside you. 

Husband?

How did he know?

Satoru laughs loudly, continuing to fuck into you. 

“What? You didn’t think we’d notice?” Suguru inserts himself into the discussion. “There’s a tan line around your ring finger, darling.”

Satoru thrusts into you even harder. “No hickeys? Come on.” His fingers speed up around your clit, making you moan against Suguru. “So I’ll repeat myself, your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” 

The humiliation was almost suffocating, yet it turned you on so badly you could hardly stand it. 

Suguru pulls himself from your throat, watching as you loudly gasp for air. 

You feel ruined. But you like it. 

“N-no,” you moan out. 

“No? That’s right.” Satoru mumbles under his breath. 

With each thrust it feels like he’s knocking all common sense from you. Your fingers dig into the sheets below, hoping it will relieve some of the pressure but all it manages to do is crumple the bedding. 

Suguru presses himself back into your throat, throwing his head back as you bob your head along him. You run your tongue down the sides of his cock, stroking him as you suck. 

“Can tell you aren’t happy with him, you just needed to be fucked properly, is that right?” Satoru continues. 

You moan around Suguru, unable to reply. Satoru understands the sentiment, pressing harder against your clit. You tighten up around him again, unable to control the way your cunt squeezes him. He keeps filling you up, his cock somehow pressing into all the right places. You’re getting close to cumming again, body begging for the sensation once more. 

Satoru’s hands are gripping your hips hard, so hard that there’s a voice in the back of your brain telling you he may leave marks, but you’re in too deep already. Drool is seeping from your lips, hanging in strings down your chin as you swallow Suguru’s cock. You wonder who’s going to cum first. 

Your orgasm inches closer, made possible by the strum of Satoru’s fingers against your needy clit. He’s groaning behind you, the sounds spurring you on. 

“Come on, come on baby. Cum on my cock.” He urges with a groan. 

Your pussy clenches around his cock hard and you release, cumming harder than you ever have before. 

“Just like that, just like that.” He talks you through it, a whimper breaking his voice. 

Suguru makes good use of your slack jaw, pounding so hard into your throat that you surmise it’s going to bruise. There’s no oxygen in your brain, no thoughts in your head, just pure bliss as you cum on Satoru. 

“You’re gonna make me-“ Satoru lets out a long moan, hips jerking against you, his cock twitching as he fills the condom with his cum. 

You’re trying to breathe heavily through your nose as you come down, allowing Suguru to use you as he sees fit. His face is concentrated as he stares down at you, admiring the mess you’ve become as he fucks your throat. He swears under his breath before coming to a stop, spurting hot cum in your mouth. 

You struggle to swallow it all, briefly feeling like you were drowning in the fluid, before you gulp it down. It’s messy, some of his cum paints your lips as he slides his now softening cock out of your mouth. 

The room is filled with the sounds of your mixed panting, bodies all entering a state of relaxation. Satoru eases himself from your pussy, inhaling sharply as he slips out. He removes the condom, tying it before tossing it into the bin beside the bed. You’re in complete bliss, fucked out from every orifice. 

Suguru smoothes your hair down and finds a washcloth to wipe the filth from your lips, smiling to himself at your expression. 

“You can stay the night, if you’d like.” Satoru says as he relaxes on the bed. 

He glances at the clock and ascertains that it’s much later than you were intending. You mumble to yourself and nod, not fully comprehending what ramifications may be waiting at home for you. 

Satoru opens the blankets for you, waiting as Suguru cleans between your legs. The actions are a bit sweet. Everything is. You were expecting them to kick you to the curb after you had sex, so you’re pleasantly surprised when they slide in bed next to you, laying on either side. 

Satoru’s arms are wrapped tightly around your frame as you nod off, and you feel truly happy for the first time in years. 

~~~

You aren’t sure what wakes you up in the morning. Your internal clock, maybe. Your body is sore as you groan, flipping onto your back. The hotel ceiling greets you as you crack your eyes open. A brief bit of panic courses through you. 

So last night was real, huh? 

You turn your head and notice the bed beside you is completely devoid of anyone else, both men seemingly having vanished. You aren’t sure if you feel more sad or relieved. Sad because you enjoyed their presence, but relieved because now you could pretend like nothing happened. 

Is that what you wanted to do? 

You were having a hard time believing that that would be easy, that you could go back to your old life and be content when you knew there was so much more out there. 

You sit up and look towards the clock. You were in deep shit. There’s a note on the beside table that catches your attention. You lift it up, reading the words on the page. It fills you with a deep sense of satisfaction once you notice a phone number on it.

“Call us if you want to have a good time. -Satoru and Suguru.” 

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[34saveme34]

I kinda expressed that with my opinion on why I don't think marware is abusive

and I genuinely think it has the most potential

but I really don't. think that other pairings are as bad as some people put them

as in, calling them proship

like I said it before, you can make any ship problematic if you try hard enough

like I'm specifically talking about 3ware here

I don't ship it, obviously I sold my soul to marware but

it genuinely does have potential and I think if you'd take it in the right direction, it could be really nice

especially cuz they could end up relating to each other over feeling lonely cuz 3 was very much lonely before he joined the crew

also just. your plans not working out

It would be very interesting if 3 turned out to be the guy to help Puzzles get redeemed or something and I feel like with those 2 the theatre nerd that I just. can't believe isn't there inside 3 would come out

I think it would be really fun, if stuff went in a positive way, they could be friends in my eyes

and before you're like, ugh, but Puzzles did Bad Things and that is hilarious because 3 did some BAAD things too and if you think that bad people can't change well- feel free to join Thomas Astruc, I think director of Miraculous Ladybug who said that Chloe, a 15 year old girl can't be redeemed because she'll always be mean or whatever, although this is a more extreme example

but yeah I'm tired of pretending 3 didn't do shit and that maybe in some aspects 34 absolutely had some vibes where you could've shipped it in a toxic way. so are THEY proship now because there's the possibility of them being in a toxic relationship? I mean, I did see someone on twitter say that that they would be (ughh)

also like. I know, we like healthy relationships but... the toxicity can be one hell of a drug, even while yknow, knowing that hey, this isn't like, couple goals, but you can OBVIOUSLY still explore relationships like that without making it your ideal

like I describe The Hunt thing with marware, with Mario chasing Puzzles till the end of the Earth to get his Entertainment

like. that's OBVIOUSLY not a healthy relationship but it's still fun to think about and discuss. I think yandere shit also has like, the same appeal

and all the while, I'm actually kind of a collected person in a happy relationship where I practice openness and looking out for boundaries like a normal fucking person. while I sometimes look at not entirely happy or healthy ships and admire their dynamic in a character studying way

like I think some of yall need to put down the pitchfork about Puzzles ships, block some tags, ask people to tag ship (which is why I tag marware btw!! I'm thinking about people and their comfort because I know not everyone likes it even if that's kind of sad to think about!)

so yeah like, chill out, let people ship weird things

this is also not to say that I condone like, noncon or any of the sort, I just want to say in case someone starts to think that

I'm just saying that when someone ships 4ware and makes art of them being evil together maybe you should just block the ship's tag if it makes you feel so uncomfortable instead of going on the person's post and accusing them of vile things and telling them to end their life

[picklesquash]

Hey dude! I have a question about the Mutter Museum controversy.

I certainly understand reviewing the exhibits to see what can be done to minimize the ongoing damage of colonialism. (Indigenous remains could be repatriated for example.) But what would happen if they decided to take down an exhibit of suspicious/unpleasant origins that doesn't have a clear origin?

For example, I saw a lot of skulls in the wall of skulls that have plaques that say something like: "Italy. Unknown Adult Male. Highwayman. Hanged 1832." Would they somehow try to track down that person's last living relative? Would they respectfully bury the remains somewhere? Would they just take them off public view and put them in labeled boxes in a storeroom?

Is it considered bad in the museum world to display anything that was probably obtained by grave robbing or buying up the bodies of dead criminals/destitute people who died of illness in a hospital? Is it because it's seen as condoning those practices, or because it's just disrespectful to the people who didn't get to consent that their bodies be experimented on and gawked at for 100 years?

Anyway, sorry this is a super long ask. I live in Philly now and there's a lot of public buzz around this so I'm interested in your take as a museum professional. Feel free to answer/not answer as convenient!!

Hey bud, it's good to hear from you!!! I want to disclaim that I'm not the foremost expert in any of this and it's actually a relatively new front of discussion in the museum world, but you pretty much got it!

The example you gave, an unnamed person who was hanged for a crime they may or may not have committed (who's to say with no further evidence)- that would be an instant alert for me that this person almost certainly didn't consent to having their body displayed forever in a museum thousands of miles away and hundreds of years later. I think all three things you listed: tracking down descendants, reburying the remains, or "burying" them in storage- are all real possibilities.

Unfortunately, the most likely is "burying" the remains in a collections storage room somewhere (basically hiding- my personal opinion again, but I also usually don't see the purpose in keeping something accessioned in a museum's collection if the public can't interact with it in some way). As you can probably tell, I don't think it's the the best solution, but arguably slightly better than being out on exhibit. Next would be reburying- though that gets complicated because where, when, and who's involved? Hunting down descendants or relatives is the best in my opinion, but also the toughest- especially because it seems like there'd be an awful lot of research or DNA work involved in the case you listed. Still, this usually ends up crossing over with reburying, especially in the cases I've seen with Native remains.

As for your second question about grave robbing or handling the remains of people who were criminals, poor, etc- yes, I think it's safe to say the growing attitude in the museum world is that it's not a cool thing to do. This definitely wasn't always the attitude, and I think that's part of the problem ongoing with the Mütter right now. I would say the arguments around it tend to fall into the second camp of not having consent- in my time as a museum curator, I used to be unable to display like...paintings and other things just because someone back in the day didn't get the right paperwork (written consent) filled out by the donor. The same principals apply for human remains, although I'd argue to an even higher standard considering they're....you know, people.

To wrap up my ramble, I think it's okay when people deliberately donate their bodies for the purpose of display and exhibition. That's their decision to make, and if the museum agrees at the time they make an agreement, there you go! But I think the heart of this whole issue really lies with the fact that for most of history, the bodies that were being displayed or dissected or used for medical education were stolen in one way or another. So many of them belonged to people who suffered injustices and had their voices silenced or suppressed in life, so who are we to do that in death as well? I think there's much better ways to tell their stories than to deprive them of proper rest or burial.

[tenebrisdivina]

I have some questions that are probably very juvenile to someone of your experience. I have worked with and spoken to only a few demons in the past, notably Orobas, Egyn, and Amaymon, the first two of which were pleasant, and the last not so much (extremely awry). I did not bind them and do not wish to. For one I wonder, have you ever had psychosis/obsession/other severe ill effect induced from a demon you were in contact with, or other odd but not necessarily harmful things, like specific cravings (ex. blood)? How do you approach the spirits that induce harm or delusion, or do you just leave them be? I have wanted to revisit demons but my very negative experience with Amaymon has made me wary of them entirely unless my patron is actively condoning the interaction. Is it just a case of proper caution and non-aggressive protection, or is there anything more that could help me avoid a bad experience going forward? (For context I do not recall doing anything that could have offended, other than being an easily manipulated idiot at the time. I didn't have demands, I sought to just speak and build a relationship to begin with, but I fell into a very bizarre state of mind and ill health that only improved when I separated Amaymon from me, and in hindsight sense that it was extremely aggressive, but I do not know what prompted it, if anything.) Thank you for reading.

thankyou for your ask; this is a bit of a long response as i don't know much about your practices or how you actually connected to the demonic etc

To be clear I have not worked with nor connected to any of the demons you have mentioned. Also just to disclaim here; I am not judging the situation nor what happened I am neutral in this; so if my comments come off as judgmental sounding this is not what I meant.

I wonder first of all how did you specifically go about connecting with Them? And what methods did you use? as that may have an effect on what happens. Secondly sometimes a certain demons energy is “too much” in that it is not compatible with our own energies which can make things harder as well. Sometimes demonic energy can induce certain reactions in the humans energy, and it needs an adjustment period. You also mention “separate Amaymon from you” does this mean you tried possession or some such? All this said I do not know enough about the practices nor circumstances to say much more on this.

However it seems to me that it was likely a parasite or being masking as Lord Amaymon, rather then the demonic divine being Himself. (this is actually more common then sometimes is realized) In my view and experience the Dark Lords do not attack/ harm someone who is just connecting with them, and also for no reason. They have better things to do then attack people and have little interest in such a thing. If they are uninterested or have an issue with the person, most likely they will not come through at all. This is not to say that the event did not happen or wasn’t harrowing, just that it may not be as clear as it seemed to be and it may not have been the DL. Within darker energies there can be more room for other things to step into and act as other beings sometimes.( I am writing a post about this soon)

Demonic divine beings in general (especially those known about by humans) do not seek to malevolently harm humans. In my view it is extremely rare that a Demonic Divine Dark Lord would do something unwarranted. For the most part excepting specific demons and demonic races (which tbh humans are not in contact with and they are not known or listed in grimoires) if the Demonic Divine does something like this it can ( and tbh usually is) be a form of teaching, even if it is particularly harrowing. Sometimes the more “egoic” human mindset is not something important to the DL ( at that time) - if there is a lesson that “needs” to happen.  Again, I do not know the specifics so I cannot say for certain about your circumstances. It could potentially be helpful ( if you so choose) to re-evaluate the issue from a different perspective. I am also not of the belief that demons are always going to; be nice, care about you, “light, love” pleasant or amicable even. They can even just not like people and energetically not be compatible. They are individuals as well. All this said; even if there is an issue ( potentially)- I am using this going forward as if it was Amaymon but I personally do not think it actually was) with one demon, does not mean there will automatically be issues or you would be treated poorly by the others of the demonic divine, given they are individual, autonomous beings and keep their own council. It is also possible the demon does not want a connection either.

On to your questions. To note also; if someone/thing seems to be truly inducing actual psychosis and delusion etc ( for legal reasons I need to say this and I do think its important to check to) look to deal with the mundane first and check with a medical profession, to clear that up and make sure it’s not something mundane.

But beyond that;

For the first part yes, I have one specific Dark Lord that I work with does this and I am connected to a few others as well who do this. Before connecting with this Dark Lord I was aware He was like this. The circumstances of our relationship are unique however- but in working with Him, it has definitely been a learning curve. For me personally, I chose to keep being in a relationship with this being and so taught myself to understand His and Their viewpoints and be accepting of it. I think truly, it is a personal decision as to why you want the relationship or to choose to stay in it. It does require developing a new understanding of things and being open to seeing things in a new way.

It is helpful to consider when working with otherworldy beings; is this a chosen behavior on their part or is it just their nature or energies? So; I would question going forward – what is it you are wanting from this being and perhaps it could be gotten from someone else or there are other options? If there are no other options- assuming They (are open to connecting and working with you in the first place and it is a chosen behavior) and They continue treating you that way; are you prepared for that and learning to deal with it? ( with this I am mainly meaning god-level beings- who are not easily dealt with)

I think however in general terms; that unless you are willing to “adapt” or deal with such interactions (because sometimes it is simply Their nature or energies as well), then beings like this ( who treat you this way) should be left alone- unless there is a specific and good reason to go and interact with them. For example:  if there is something you can only get from interacting with them- mostly with the demonic divine however and deities- there are others who are within the same ”wheelhouse” so to speak- that could be more amenable and “easier” to work with and you can ask to be guided to Them as well.  If you do continue to interact with these beings then I think you should be open and aware of possibly being “hurt” by this, as it can just be their way, and it is something to consider. It is a choice.

 Otherworldy beings in general are not like humans and don’t have the same mindsets, proclivities, values, energies etc. the further you go away from human earthen realm the more obvious and potentially more dangerous it is. So what is important to the human may not be to them. Yes, you can try to protect yourself and if you chose to keep working with them, then setting boundaries around what is and isn’t appropriate for you is important. Knowing your limits for example if it is a dangerous energy. One should also not “expect” to be cared for or about by otherworldy beings either. By this I mean, that if one truly wants to interact with otherworldy beings who are further away from the humans realms (and demonic can be) that viewing things from a human-centric perspective is quite unhelpful. So also try to learn and understand where the being is coming from. Sometimes however, you just can’t and that’s okay- we can’t comprehend everything and the human brain can’t either.

In my experience as much as some mages like to think they are powerful or god like etc they really aren’t, especially in comparisons to a DL. It is my view that Demonic divine cannot be bound or controlled period and what the Solomonic grimoire authors bound was not truly the demonic divine.

For protection; it is often more helpful to know yourself deeply and to know what you can and cannot tolerate. I do think that asking your patron for aid in this is helpful and a good idea, your protection should really be specific to you. The way I view it is, if you are actually connecting with a demonic divine being and something is going awry or feels that way to you, simply ask them to leave or stop and they most often will ( sometimes we have to learn how to say “no” though). If they ( the demonic divine being) does not- then ask what is the point of them doing this to you, what needs to be learnt through this, if anything?- as it is often a good reason for this. Most often if you make it known you don’t want this and ask them to leave they will ( if they are divine being, a parasite etc will not).

Basic protection should be practiced in general; shielding, grounding, cleansing, warding the space as part of usual routine. Have you looked at S Connoly’s work at all( she is very good for basic working with demons ins a respectful manner)? Sometimes in demonolatry ritual an elemental circle is called upon- but it is to balance the energies- not to protect you from the demonic.

If you did choose to interact with someone who induces harm and delusion- it is still important to understand why you are approaching them.  Do you want the delusion experience? If so then you wouldn’t try to combat it. If you do not - then training yourself to “see clearly” would be helpful- I don’t just mean clairvoyance- I mean actually using the third eye to be attuned to the “truth” of a thing and understanding the many layers of realities/ illusions etc. This will take time though. I would strongly recommend doing shadow work to help with protection and as a good practice in general.  If the being truly produces delusion- then knowing your own self very well can be very helpful for seeing through this. It is also important to cleanse regularly for delusional energies and work on your third eye too. Another thing to consider (it wasn’t clear in the ask) perhaps the “delusion” and harm (if it was demonic divine being) could have actually been a clearing of energies? But I don’t know enough about your current practices to really say.

For avoiding a poor experience going forward, using a divination practice- even just a pendulum can be helpful for determining whether to work with beings or not. Communing also with those otherworldly beings you trust like your patron perhaps to check to see if this is someone you should work with or not, can be helpful. Also trusting your gut too with what you are feeling- this usually gives a good guide as to whether something is “good” for you or not. You can also determine over longer term if something is beneficial to you or not- by looking at how your life is going, is it “improving (by your own standards)” or not? But this is nuanced to the individual. Nothing is truly guaranteed, however. So observing in the moment and longer term can be helpful. Sometimes also we are drawn to more “harmful” things to learn something from it, even if its only on how to set good boundaries or stand up for ourselves etc. But everyone’s journey is individual. It can also be helpful in the aftermath of such a hazardous experience to do energy healing work as well, or other methods and the ground, cleanse, centre etc.

Also for going forward and working with demons- you could try to choose which demons you are interested in ( from looking at the different hierarchy lists) via gut feeling of being drawn to them, via divination or via looking at what you want to achieve or work on and who could help with that. As you mentioned a good experience with the first two demons you contacted then maybe contacting Them again to try small steps back in to approaching this work. Or you could look to some other of the demonic that are known to be okay with beginners- as they may help with working up to connecting with others. It is okay to take your time with it though and not rush it if it feels like too much. If casting an elemental circle (from S Connoly’s work) can help you to feel safer or better about contacting the demonic then that is helpful to do, when calling upon the particular demonic. (while I don’t know your practice my advice is please do not use the mirror method- the demonic do not like it and you end up with weird energies from it). You could also (if into magick) create a sigil or small talisman you charge with protective and guiding energies to have with you at the time of contact. I would suggest also gaining knowledge about a strong banishing technique as well, if you do not already know one (and calling on your patron to help with this, or even asking your patron to protect you when connecting as well). I use a modified satanic LBRP ( calls upon demonic not angelic beings) along with usually cleansing and balancing. Placing wards around the space you are connecting could be helpful as well. And these protective techniques are not so much to be “used against” the demonic divine- but rather to keep the riffraff out, so you can be more likely to get the correct being coming through. These techniques like banishing etc would be more like the “big- guns” though, but it is still useful to know. Though in my view it doesn’t banish true demonic divine beings, for them asking them ( poiltely and sometimes firmly) to leave is enough. For general banishing feeling the power or your Will and command (as a divine being as well) will work well for just about everything.

Because you did have a harrowing experience with one of the ”demonic,” it is normal to feel apprehensive, so try to go easy on yourself with this and it doesn’t need to be rushed.

I am happy to offer other advice or help if needed. And I apologise for the length, there is a lot to cover in this ask. Hope this helps somewhat.

others who see this: This answer is just for this person and the ask, please do not apply it generally

[sluttymothman]

Welcome to my humble sex dungeon. What can I do for such a lovely specimen? You don't want a role, do you? Because I could make you a star~

ཐིཋྀ This is an indie, semi-selective, roleplay page for the man who wears lingerie as casual clothing. The pimp with the shittiest eyesight this side of Hell. The Vee’s very own, rage-filled, moth, Valentino. ཐིཋྀ

A Warning and Disclaimer.

Valentino is an evil trash pile of a demon and I, in no way, endorse or condone any of his words or actions. I will attempt to roleplay him in a manner that I think is accurate to how he is written — due to this there will be exploration of murder, sa, abusive relationships and other dark and sexual themes on this page. As someone who wants this community to be a safe space for everyone I encourage you wholeheartedly to speak to me about boundaries before we roleplay (or if they change while we are roleplaying) Remember: consent and communication are sexy.

Val is an egocentric asshole but, as a Mun, I am hugely and approachable! I promise. Please feel free to send me asks, messages and starters.

About the writer.

Chessi. She/They. 26. Libra.

A little about this page.

❤︎ This account is run by a fully-fledged adult who is 25+ and will include content that explores dark themes, sexual content and foul language. Do NOT interact with this page if you are a minor.

❤︎ I tend to write 3-4 descriptive paragraph responses in my rp. Shorter or longer is totally fine, don’t feel the need to match me (I’m a big ol’ waffler) — all I ask is that responses are long enough to give me something to work with.

❤︎ I do not currently practice mains or exclusives. I am happy to roleplay with duplicates, although, obviously my relationship with each portrayal will be different based on previous threads/events.

❤︎ I am chronically multiship. For me, it’s all about the chemistry between our muses.

❤︎ In spite of my stellar ability to ‘wax poetic’ about the most mundane of things, I am dyslexic. The reason I bring this up is just in case any errant spelling or grammar mistakes slip into my responses. I apologise, let me know and I’m always happy to edit (or just ignore them and win my lifelong affection.)

❤︎ Plot-wise, I am always happy to explore silly cross-overs and divergence from canon. I LOVE both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss and will welcome, with open arms, any new friendships and roleplay partners. Likewise, OC’s are welcome on this page.

❤︎ Please know that there is never any pressure to reply to a post of mine in any timeframe! All I ask is that no pressure is applied on me either. If I could, I would spend all my time on here writing with all of you talented people, however, life has a habit of getting in the way.

❤︎ As you can see below, I have amassed a hefty collection of pages. If you lose inspiration/motivation for a post we are writing then it’s 100% fine, in fact I positively implore you, to let me know. We can start a new thread. We can explore a different one of my muses. Just let me know!

❤︎ I’m perhaps to least intimidating person ever (like, the kind of person who would accidentally apologise to a door if I walked into it) so please, feel comfortable to come and chat~

Other Blogs.

Main-Blog.

Lucifer Morningstar. @rubberduckydemonking

Side-Blogs.

Asmodeus. @kinkylustking

Alastor. @staticsmiles

Blitz. @assassin-imp

Moxxie. @moxxiemisfire

Fizzarolli. @froggy-fizz

Stolas. @starlit-sovereign

Angel Dust. @spiderbby

Vox. @hypno-glitch

[chill-pills-yandere-haven]

Innocence

An: This is a yandere Diluc one-shot\drabble. This is my first time doing a one-shot like this so please don't be too harsh. If you find any constructive criticism to give, that would help a lot, so feel free to tell me.

Date started: July 20th. Date finished: July 20th

Tw: yandere, manipulation, very vague reference to abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any actions or behaviours of yanderes, yanderes are abusive. This is not a healthy relationship.

You were too innocent to save yourself.

You should have been cautious when you first met him. The way his eyes took you in, immediately claiming you as his when you spoke first. The way he started to scrutinize everyone around you, telling you you deserved better than them. You deserved him. You should have been cautious when you first met him. The way his eyes took you in, immediately claiming you as his when you spoke first. The way he started to scrutinize everyone around you, telling you you deserved better than them. You deserved him.

Kaeya was the one to introduce you two. You were both captains of the Knights of Favonious and you were good friends, enough to go drinking together. You had gone to Angel's Share together for your first outing, and as though the world was trying to do you in, Diluc was bartending that night.

You had been doomed from the moment you opened your mouth to speak. Somehow, more of your work was shifted to where he was. Hauling things to Dawn Winery, getting rid of monsters near there. He presented himself as a harbour, as a person to go to whenever Kaeya was stressing you out or when you needed help with anything. You had become familiar with him, happy to see him instead of caution of what the wine tycoon could be hiding.

You were practically always on break. For some reason, whenever anything was interesting like a hazard or a new case to investigate. It was dissolved almost immediately, murderers being convicted a day after you were put on their case, monsters already being defeated as soon as you got to the scene.

Then, there was the surge of missing cases. They were people you used to know, you might've been acquainted with them, they could've flirted with you before, or maybe you had thought them to be attractive. They all had a connection to you, and now they were gone. Something that sprouted mistrust of you in the knights, giving rise to more stress.

Diluc would listen to your troubles and worries of feeling as though you had no purpose with the knights. Always a supportive and trustworthy friend. Or that was what you saw. Innocence did you in. Eventually, you found yourself falling for the solemn man. The way he freely smiled at you and not anyone else, the way you felt as though you could depend on each other. As though Diluc wasn't making you depend exclusively on him.

You confessed to him first, unknowingly releasing a side of him better kept in the shadows. He only got more protective and strict with you, giving you rules that you just chalked up to him wanting to be clear about boundaries and thought he was more protective because of his past.

After that, you only got more and more dependent on him. To the point where Diluc convinced you to resign from the knights. Mondstadt was a peaceful nation filled with powerful people who could protect it and you were just a hard-working captain without a Vision. Yes, you did do your best, yes, you helped out as much as possible. But, as your lover told you, it was better to leave things bigger than you to bigger people, people who could actually do things, not just try. You settled into the winery, married Diluc and had a comfortable life by his side. The only thing you could ask for was to go outside of the winery, anywhere would be enough for you, maybe into the city too. It had been quite a while since you had seen anyone who wasn't a worker at the winery or your husband.

You don't remember your stay with him too well, most of it a blur of only him. You can remember some crying and pain, but not from anything you recognize, besides, Diluc would never do something like that to you.

So you asked, not suspecting the obvious answer.

"Diluc, Love, do you think we could visit the city together sometime?" He had finished his work and was now lying in bed with you, tight hold on your hips as though at any moment you might disappear. Feeling him tense up at your words and positioning his head into the crook of your neck, spooning you closer, you nuzzled into him, effectively relaxing the red-haired man.

"For what reason, my dear?" Diluc questioned as your hands found his long hair and played with the soft threads.

"Oh, nothing really serious, I'd just like to pay a visit to my old friends and would like to be outside the winery again." You supplied, feeling him breathe into your hair.

"I would, but you know how busy I am and what if the people you used to know don't care about you anymore or resent you for choosing to stay with me? For all you know, they could have just been pretending to like you to take advantage of before. Besides, we can go to a nice place I know near the winery. It'll be perfectly safe and it will be just us." Your husband replied, trailing his hands along your sides, filled with adoration and something else.

You told him okay and eased into his touch. Falling asleep as he whispered sweet words of love to you.

If only you knew what he hid.

If only you knew what he had done for you.

If only you knew what he took advantage of for you.

If only you knew who he had killed for you.

He was lucky that you were so pure, so true and trusting.

So innocent.

And that innocence would seal your fate.

[wh6res]

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[ablednt]

[Singlets DNI with this post specifically it's an in community discussion]

Not to start talking about this again but if any of my fellow white followers still do this please don't call your self-made headmates tulpa or use the term tulpamancy. I don't think most of the people using it do so to be malicious but here are some reasons why you should use alternative terms

It's cultural appropriation no matter how you want to look at it. The term was adapted from a religious practice in Tibetan Buddhism that has quite literally nothing to do with systemhood. Like it cannot be a case of this culture or religion shared with us because we're completely misusing the concept. If you're not a part of a religion don't use terms derived from sacred parts of it for non-religious purposes that's very disrespectful. (A lot of people want to argue this point but Tibetan Buddhists have spoken out about this before and though a lot of people use this point to demonize all self-made systems I've seen sources who don't do that and still request another term be used)

The term doesn't make sense etymology wise and the only arguments I've heard from systems who use it instead of an alternative are "it just sounds cool [because I think things from other cultures are just cool and aesthetic]" (this ties in to a problem in the witchcraft/pagan community but that's a different discussion) and "this is what I'm used to using [and I am the victim here for being mildly inconvenienced]

There's SO many better alternatives. There's self-made headmate/system, there's parogenic/parotive, there's specific terms that explain how you formed them like textform, and there's also the basic terms like headmate, system member, etc. Not only do these have no culturally appropriative origins but they actually describe the experience rather than just "sounding cool" and hell even if none of those do it for you there's a lot more and you can coin your own you have the power.

It makes people uncomfortable. This, I think, is the more important point. Like even if it somehow magically turned out that historically it was fine (it hasn't done that) you should still be prioritizing what people and systems of color have been telling you. We've seen a lot of people voicing their discomfort over the term and it seems to be a symptom of a larger racism problem within the system community. So when you double down and dig your heels in over something small like this it's setting a bad precedence and making people uncomfortable. At the end of the day you really should care about other people enough to do something small like this.

Now before anyone misinterprets this or tries to co-op it for exclusionist purposes here's some notes

Self-made systems are real and valid and also they're not giving themselves a disorder. Self-made plurality as a cultural and healthy practice is acknowledged indirectly in the DSM5 as being separate to DID/OSDD1 for people who still worship psychiatry.

I do Not condone fakeclaiming or harassment and will not tolerate it in this space. Any interaction that makes an attempt to so much as insinuate that self-made systems are not real systems or are less valid than other system will result in an immediate block.

[Going to also go ahead and say don't reblog this actually, I think if this one breeches containment it's going to be ugly and I don't feel like having to make a bad faith discourse blocklist actually]

[secretswansong]

One thing about the show which is affected by the pacing (i.e. having only 6 episodes) is Alex's competence as a detective and as a character. Major spoilers ahead.

Within each case, or Episodes 1-4, Alex does good detective work: gathering information from the crime scenes and through interactions with humans and supernatural creatures. I haven't read a lot of mystery or detective fiction apart from Smaller and Smaller Circles by F. H. Batacan (A MUST-READ!) so all I can tell is that Alex is competent enough for the plot to work. The komiks would probably have more on this; I haven't read those and I'm mainly going off on the show/anime.

Several of her interactions with humans and supernatural creatures felt rather convenient to me, likely because of how the quick pacing relies on quick delivery of important information to drive the plot. More nuanced interactions would take up more runtime. That's why we get a lot of info-dumping such as the following.

In Episode 1, Cpt. Guerrero warns Alex about Mayor Santamaria's power, even though he's imprisoned by the end of the episode. The survivors of the aswang readily give consistent testimonies, not concerned that they wouldn't be believed, not doubting that their captors were aswang, and thus no need for Alex and the cops to gain their trust.

In Episode 3, Jobert locates Petra Gallaga's video of what she did with Nova Aurora's baby, which would have still posed a risk towards Nova's reputation and career, even if it makes sense for her character. I cannot think of any practical reason behind it apart from providing an explanation of the tiyanak at the expense of Nova's characterization. (I don't condone her actions, and her character could have been written better.)

And, you know, the info-dumping from the Nuno and, especially, Datu Talagbusao, throughout Episodes 5 and 6.

(Bonus: all the flashbacks that focus on Alex and Anton, whose relationship was clearly the most important to the narrative and for Alex's training. So, in comparison, we get very little from Alex's mother, brothers, and grandfather.)

Still, Alex's human and supernatural connections suit her bigger role as the babaylan-mandirigma of Manila, and the resources with it. Even an ordinary detective would have made allies and connections.

However, Team Trese get no opportunities to further analyze the string of cases and the warnings from supernatural characters. Imagine if, in Smaller and Smaller Circles, the protagonists identify each victim but never figure out the key towards identifying the killer.

Alex is understandably busy with the individual cases, to the point that she is "sick of being two steps behind," but the enemy are well ahead and the team is more or less blindsided by the events in Episodes 5 & 6. (Other hints were more of foreshadowing aimed at the audience.)

We don't get scenes of Team Trese putting their heads together in the library, doing research, making timelines, comparing notes...

They could have reflected on recent cases: Is the timing normal or too quick and opportune for them? Could these cases have anything in common?

They could have speculated on underworld gossip and warnings and threats Alex got from other supernatural characters: Did anything they said sound too unusual or cryptic, even for them? Could any of them be involved with the cases? What storm, what prophecy, what big players are they talking about? Is someone trying to ruin the treaty?

The Emissary of Ibu calls Alex the future ruler of the underworld in Episode 1. But Alex dismisses that, doesn't further question the Emissary calling her that or Ibu's very respectful messages; and the show doesn't repeat this nice clue so that she notices. If the show did this and had her still dismiss these clues, that could have established her belief in her father (and his version of the prophecy) as a character weakness (i.e. the revelation in Episode 6 becomes a little more painful).

The flashbacks with Datu Talagbusao deliver backstory and set up how he is defeated in Episode 6 — for the audience. There's no solid indication that Alex and Team Trese recall these specific memories and wonder if Datu Talagbusao could be involved.

Hell, imagine if Crispin and Basilio came up with that — Bossing, our father (derogatory) is really into all this carnage, is it just us or maybe he's trying to make a comeback?

The one real effort in this direction (for me) was Hank's own investigation in Episode 4, when he spoke with the Nuno and Amang Paso. That was also a good way to show Hank's competence, being a longtime ally of the Treses, as well as how Alex could not and did not do everything by herself. And then Hank is nerfed and his findings don't really pay off because the remaining Team Trese barely catch up with the enemy for the final showdown.

Most if not all of the information from Nuno and Datu Talagbusao is new and doesn't confirm/disprove any suspicions or working hypotheses from Team Trese, because they haven't gotten opportunities to come up with them.

In Episode 5, the supernatural council meets and votes to dissolve the treaty, without Alex. All we get is Maliksi being the bearer of bad news. This event is the pinnacle of how the supernatural creatures (as a whole) have been undermining the authority of the babaylan-mandirigma. But this is the biggest missed opportunity for Alex to showcase her competence.

Imagine if Alex was invited to and/or crashed that meeting. She could present evidence from recent cases + cite statements and threats from other characters. She could argue that there's something bigger going on, trying to get rid of the treaty. She could have her allies back her up (and speak with them after the meeting). There would have been wonderful interactions with those who respect her and those who don't.

Would she have to succeed at preserving the treaty? No, but her failure would not have been entirely due to incompetence. This scene would have been a great parallel to Alex's memory/flashback of when Anton convinced the council to retain the treaty: Alex hasn't earned as much respect and influence as Anton had.

For me, this scene also implied that Alex has only been the lakan for a few years, maybe less than a decade. Apart from this, she asks Hank (in Episode 4) if being the lakan was this hard for her father; the flashback of when she returned from her Trials and assumed her current role (and looks) checks out; and we've seen great scenes of how supernatural creatures treat Alex with varying levels of respect (e.g. Señor Armanaz vs. Bagyon Lektro).

It was fun to rewatch and write about the show with pacing in mind. I really hope Netflix gives Trese more seasons and more episodes per season, because there's so much potential all-around (not just for Alex's character).

[nobodymitskigabriel]

Hating Lucifer gang 🤝. I also hate Lucifer for obvious reasons (being a shitty character in late season and being playing by Mark P) but i wish i hated him because he was a compelling and interesting character to hate like he was in s5. He's pretty firmly irredeemable and that's why i think it would have been interesting for the writers to play with an "ostensible" redemption arc where the audience think maaaaybe thats the direction his character is going for a bit because yeah God and Michael's reasons for locking him up (disobeying authority) were not morally sound BUt even if Lucifer is sympathetic in that respect he's still in the wrong and he's still a monster not because of "who he is" but because of the things he did. He doesnt NEED to be a cartoon villain for Jack to come to the conclusion that he's a monster and making one of the most compelling monsters on the show into a caricature dampens ANY message that the show tried to have about morality in his case.

The thing about the Cage and the Ma'lak box is that the reasons Lucifer and Jack were locked up were very conceptually different. Like Lucifer created demonkind and tried to exterminate humans but fundamentally he was locked up as punishment for disobeying his Father. Heaven holds itself to be a moral authority by making Lucifer a scapegoat and demonizing him as a symbol of everything opposing God. We as the audience don't necessarily find the principle behind his imprisonment just, but we condone it because he is actively hostile to humans and their existence depends on him remaining trapped.

While Jack being locked up was as our favorite lawyer Saul Goodman would put it "an Old Yeller situation". His family didn't feel morally righteous for locking him up because he's more a victim of circumstance than a malicious actor. It's interesting how Heaven as an institution is active in the imprisonment of both Lucifer and Jack. Where Lucifer was imprisoned by the authority of Heaven for disobeying God, Jack was imprisoned by the authority of the Winchesters for hurting people while obeying the authority of Heaven (Duma's manipulation). It's important to point out that the Winchesters do serve as a moral institution on the show in a similar way that Heaven or Hell do. Regardless of whether we find them justified or not they reserve the right to do practically anything they feel like they need to to someone if they deem their actions suffiently monstrous. I mean this is basically the same thing they did to Doc Benton in 3x15. It only differs in Jack's case bc they didn't feel morally superior for taking that path but felt like their hands were forced.

It would've been interesting if Jack hadn't broken out of the box to see the hemming and hawing around what solution that would be whether its keeping him locked up, finding a way to kill him, or taking a chance on letting him out to explain. We know Dean was willing to drop himself into the ocean so if he thought Jack was an adequate threat to the world I think it would be consistent of him morally to have that position. It does feel even more demented because in the case that the Winchesters did decide to lock him up forever they're essentially signing him away to become the monster that we knew he didn't need to be.

But when it all came down to it in s15 even though they had some sort of half baked message about rejecting God's authority they never broke down or questioned any of the institutions at play. Jack himself became the authority of Heaven and presumably the world goes on as it always did where Heaven is inherently righteous and Hell is the place where the sinners burn and the Winchesters (or, uh, Sam) continue killing "monsters" practically indiscriminately and then when they die their souls end up in Heaven. Round and round we go.

I'm having thoughts faster than i can articulate them but i hope this is even half coherent did not expect this to get long winded oop

It's like so many of Jack's decisions are colored by naivete or shame. And yes those things are very core to his character but I also feel like the writers were afraid to give him too much unadulterated autonomy because they didn't want to make it seem like Jack would consciously make any sort of "evil" decision.

Like yes killed someone but it was just a freak accident! He trusted Lucifer but he just didn't know any better! He killed Mary but he didn't mean to!! He was feeling overwhelmed and got away from himself :(. He went on a killing spree but he didn't have a soul and was being manipulated by Duma </3.

Even more personal decisions like "choosing" to give up his soul to kill Michael are muddled by the fact that his family was literally up against the wall and he had never been learned to value himself to the point where he'd even consider preserving his soul above his family lives. And "choosing" to become a bomb to kill Chuck because....hello? He was literally so overwhelmed with shame that he'd march himself to slaughter to earn Dean's forgiveness.

I really feel like Jack's character would have benefited a lot from more autonomy bc jfc the cambian Jesse Turner had more autonomy than Jack.

Let's take Sam who was pretty strongly paralleled with Jack in a lot of respects. Yes Sam dealt with manipulation and shame as well BUT in s4 Sam made active decisions like continuing to trust Ruby, use his powers, and drink demon blood. Things that Chuck explicitly said would make him seem "unsympathetic" to the audience. During the whole demon blood arc there were times when the audience wasn't even sure who was telling the truth or who's was in the right. Maybe Ruby is good. Or maybe Sam IS actually going down the dark path.

We as the audience realize that there was a chance Sam never came down from that high. If things were different maybe he could have gotten drafted for Azazel's evil army or Lucifer’s enthusiastic vessel and that's what makes his decision to finally counter "his nature" so powerful. Even after he freed Lucifer, Sam felt ashamed but he still advocated for himself and his decision to jump into the Cage to trap Lucifer again was not colored by a need to have Dean forgive him.

I think this is partly where all the incessantly babying of Jack comes from. Instead of getting to see him deal with any real moral crossroads and come to a decision, he's bombarded by outside forces and "acts out" to the point where his arc is more comparable to an orca than a person.

[kazuhasbunny]

Ok, first off I'm going to clarify that I am in fact not the same anon you were complaining about however I do want to correct your definition of pro-shipper. It definitely does not mean that they ship children with adults, nor is it shorthand for problematic shipper. The term actually came about a few years ago in opposition to anti-shippers, the ones who would harass people for shipping certain things that they didn't like, regardless of if it was problematic or not. In fact in most of these harassment cases the ship in question wasn't problematic at all. This was particularly common among fangirls who shipped certain gay ships within a series and would go around bashing and harassing anyone that shipped things that 'competed' with their ship. I am aware that urban dictionary isn't the most credible of sources but quoting their pro-ship article Pro-shipping is "the practice of not shaming or harassing over fictional ships." To clarify using a very succinct definition from Twitter "a pro-shipper is just the opposite of an anti-shipper. A pro-shipper is someone who doesn't care what other people ship or what characters they stan because pro-shippers know that it's just fiction."

What this means is that pro-shippers don't necessarily support any ship in particular, nor does it mean that they find every ship completely and totally okay, or that it doesn't disgust them or whatever. What it means is that they are of the opinion that no matter what someone thinks about fictional characters, it really doesn't matter all that much because they are fictional. You are allowed to be disgusted by ships. You are allowed to think they are morally wrong or whatever. But at the point at which you are wishing genuine harm upon and sending death threats to actual people because of their opinions on fictional ones there is an issue. You are in charge of and responsible for curating your own online experience. If you dont like a ship for whatever reason, whether you think it's problematic or it's just a ship you don't want to see content for because you don't care for it, great, block the tags for it, maybe block a few blogs if you feel the need and be done with it. In a case like the one that seems to have started this where someone approaches you with content you are uncomfortable with in your asks or whatever, block them if you can, and if you can't either delete and ignore them or respectfully but firmly respond that you do not like, condone, or wish to engage with that content and ask that they leave you alone. Most people will tend to respect a request like that if you don't immediately threaten them and escalate the situation. Pro-shippers are just those who think that the people telling others that they deserve death and "should be shot on sight" in defense of fictional characters are causing way more harm than the ones they are raging at. The moral outrage and performative activism are unnecessary. I don't mean to be disrespectful or hostile, and I do apologize if I came off that way, but I did want to at least make sure that if information is going to be spread, it should at least be accurate. Sincerely, a pro-shipper who is tired of getting death threats just for not caring about how people ship made up characters

im sorry but why are u even on my blog the first place 😕 i will be kindly asking u to leave , i do not want any proshippers on my blog . ever . idc if this is the real explanation or whatever i don’t care please .... leave

[peachymess]

what's the reason you like Freddy Krueger enough to list him as one of your favorite villains? do you actually feel bad for him and think he didn't deserve what happened to him? or do you just think he's a well written character and that's why you enjoy him? i don't mean to nitpick but i think it's important for some of us to know the reason in order to determine whether your blog is a safe environment for CSA victims/survivors or not. i mean no disrespect i just feel like context here is key.

I grew up with his movies. It wasn’t about the backstory or the deeper analysis - just like with Friday the 13th and Psyko and all of those. Freddy was just another horror movie monster who killed people in whacky ways for me and to be honest, I neither remember, nor ever really cared about where he came from. He was just a dream-monster man to me, who gives me nostalgia today.

Only later in life did I read that Wes Craven initially intended for Freddy to be a predator - something which was dropped and turned to “just” a child killer (emphasis on killer) due to an at the time current criminal case going on in America.

I know they brought the initial backstory back for the reboot, but I neither knew about it as a kid, nor do I consider it as canon for those original movies, since it wasn’t at the time. Though, that isn’t to say that I’m not uncomfortable with this additional bit of the story of the making of him. I am, very much so. But I keep my fondness for those old time movies separate from the knowledge of where this figure came from, because I don’t want my memories tainted.

As far as I knew growing up with the movies, he was a dream-monster who would bleed into the real world to try and kill you with whacky practical effects just because. Me being very big on dreams only made it cooler. It was my father who introduced me and my brother, and when we were growing up he’d make this goofy sound effect and open his hand as if he had a clawed glove on, and pretended to stab us in the guts - to our laughing delight. Freddy bleeds into a father figure for me (which, yes, made me even more grossed out and sad when I read about the franchise beginnings). I never had the heart to tell him where the idea for Freddy started, he doesn’t know.

It was a mark of pride and achievement when he declared that we were old enough to watch this and that volume. It also was a bonding experience that I appreciate, because he’d tell us about him watching it with friends, how he’d scare them afterwards and what practical effects he admired the most.

So yeah... I remember the franchise fondly, though not the details of the story. Learning later that there was an extra malicious backstory made me very uncomfortable, but I view that aspect as separate to the goofy practical horror movie childhood I had and cherished.

Of course I don’t appreciate Freddy as a person. And of course I don’t condone what he did - in any version of his character. But it is as I said in my lengthy villain post - how much I look at morals in fiction, depends on how much I’m invested in its realism. A nightmare on Elm street isn’t something I take very seriously (unlike real life CSP, as I can think of no worse thing).

The big mistake I have made, though, is not taking into consideration that others don’t have the same relationship to those old movies as I do. I have also taken for granted that not everybody sees those pop culture horror icons - Freddy, Jason, Myers, Leather-face, Pinhead, etc - as lightheartedly as their constant referrals in pop culture makes it seem like everyone does. I forgot to consider that even fiction that I consider “not deep/meant to be taken seriously” can still trigger. And I’m sorry for that ignorance on my part. I’m sorry for not prefacing Freddy on the list with some sort of explanation to easy those of you who look at Freddy and only see that. It simply did not occur to me, and that embarrasses me.

Now, I won’t lie. The A nightmare on Elm street franchise will always mean a lot to me, regardless of how others see it. Even regardless of whether that makes you uncomfortable with me or not. I cannot undo the impact it had on me growing up. And I will not censor that fact here. If I for some reason want to talk about it or reblog a gif set of it at some point, I will. I still have to be true to me. I know my own intentions. I just want you to know that.

However, I WILL tag Freddy from now on. I’m always open to receive tag requests. Always! And I’m very appreciative of inquiries like these, rather than people assuming things and holding those ideas in their mind as fact without asking. So thank you for asking, anon.

I hope that can give you some ease - or in the very least clarity in where to place me.

[lennydaisy]

EPIPHANY // OUTER BANKS

The Outer Banks. Paradise on earth. Well, it is if you can afford it.

Figure 8, home of the portentous and intitled. So detached from reality that you'd have to use their private jets to bring them back down to the ground. If they're not lounging around on their secluded beaches in front of their White House sized mansions, then they're at the country club complaining that their ice-cold lemonade isn't ice-cold enough. We call them Kooks. Guess where I don't live?

Next up, The Cut, neutral habitat of, drum roll please ladies and gentleman... The Pogues. Lowest members of the food chain. You see, it's one island divided in two. You either have two houses or two jobs. I have two jobs and will still never be able to afford one house, let alone two, but that's life I guess. The Pogues are like those kids your parents tell you to stay away from when you visit the park. Well, now the park has stretched to all aspects of life warranting us to be unwanted and neglected which isn't such a bad thing, that just means we get to do whatever we want, whenever we want.

Right now, however, this is the last place I want to be. Save-A-Lot. One of my two jobs. See how this all ties in?

The continuous, subtly, beeping of the scanner, the bright overhead lights that the same moth has been flying into for a week now, that one cart that you can hear before you see, and this frustratingly itchy, red polo shirt that I'm wearing because it's 'oh-so mandatory'.

It's been reported that a storm is going to hit us in a couple of days, so naturally, the stores been busier than usual, with both Kooks and Pogues. It's like sacred land, all differences get put aside in this very store unless there's a two for one deal at the seafood counter. In that case, no one's safe, not even me, the poor, little employee. I've been slapped with a Tuna Fish before. I don't want to talk about it.

"Can I interest you in some... What are they again? Sea salted chocolate with a crushed Macadamia nut shell and a rich creamy filling, homemade by Mrs Adams?" I squint at the packaging before smiling at the man before me who peered at me, head tilted slightly. Nodding instantly, already knowing the answer, "I don't blame you, I wouldn't trust anything made by that lady."

Smashing my fingers on the scratch invested, touch screen register, slapping the side of the machine until it eventually rings up the total, "That'll be $148.98 however, you get the extended family discount, so that makes it..." twirling my finger around the air, attempting the mental math, "10% off $148," I utter, closing my eyes as if that's going to help me find the answer quicker. 'I knew I should have joined the math team with Pope.'

"$134," the man affirms looking at me sympathetically, halting my search for my calculator that is normally taped to the till. I take the mans money, squinting at him, "Okay, I'll take your word for it man but if I get fired, I want a job at The Wreck," handing him his receipt.

"We'll see," he said putting his packed bags back into his cart, "I'll get through to you one day. You can't deny I'm your favourite" I state in a matter of fact, waving him off as he pushes his cart away from the checkout, "Bye Mason."

"I don't hear you denying it," I shout, watching him hurridly pushing his cart towards the door, "Okay bye Mr Carrera, tell Kie I said hi!"

Twirling around in my chair a couple of times, I came to a stop at the sight of a pink calculator, my pink calculator, taped to Mrs Adams till. That Bitch. I sit patiently for her to be done with her customers, waving at the elderly couple as they pass, "See you later Mr and Mrs Graham, have a nice day," I smile.

"Oh you too Mason, you should stop by again, you and your friends were such a delight the last time," Mrs Graham praises tapping her ringed fingers on my counter. Nodding at her request as her husband began to drag her away from me, claiming he 'Wants to be home today not tomorrow,' knowing his wife to be quite the blether.

"What a pleasant young lady. Wouldn't you agree, Marty?"

"Oh yes, very well mannered."

"Listen here, sticky fingers, I know you stole my calculator" My smile instantly dropping as I look upon the thief that I have the pleasure of calling my co-worker.

Mrs Adams is your typical grandma. Tonged hair, thick-rimmed glasses and filled with opinions that are always unwarranted. She has had it out for as long as I can remember, once locking me in the walk-in freezer claiming to not know I was in there despite being in there with me moments before. At least I only have to deal with her a few days a week, I couldn't handle any more than that.

"What calculator?" she questions innocently. Pointing my finger accusingly at her till where low and behold, sits my calculator, "Oh really, what's that then?"

Sparing a glance at my calculator, she shakes her head, nose pointed up, "That's an anniversary gift from my husband. I, by no means, stole your calculator."

I can't believe I'm having this conversation.

Laughing at her alibi, "Are you aware of how much bullsh-", the clearing of a throat interrupts my tangent and I suddenly became aware of where I am again. Mrs Adams raises her eyebrows at me, is she mocking me? Glaring at her one last time as to say 'this conversation isn't over', I timidly spun my chair back around, plastering a smile on my face, getting ready to greet my next customer.

Oh no.

"Hi, Mr Cameron," I greet the man, scratching behind my ear hoping he didn't overhear me. Beginning to scan his items, another figure catches my eye.

Rafe.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, I present the biggest dickhead on the entire island. He thinks everybody owes him something just because his daddy is well known throughout the OBX and has no problem expressing his distaste for anyone who doesn't fit his agenda. He's a cocky, arrogant snob who needs to be knocked off his podium a few inches, or feet.

"Hello, Mason, and how many times have I told you to call me Ward?"

"Clearly not enough for me to listen," I mutter under my breath, passing the already packed bags towards a very accepting Rafe, who snatched them with a scrawl printed on his face, "Your face will stay like that if the winds change" I advise innocently, waving my fingers around my forehead area, "Don't want to get any wrinkles, but if you need some anti-ageing cream, I'm sure Mrs Adams can recommend a few of her favourites,"

"Maybe even get you a coupon," I suggest finishing to scan the last of their items, "Isn't that right, Mrs Adams," I called to the lady over my shoulder how instantly peeped up at the chance to chat with the boy.

"Oh, yes. Come here deary, I'll show you my collection,"

It's no secret throughout the OBX that Mrs Adams is a bit of a renowned cougar, having no problem expressing herself towards any sort of male attention. Mrs Adam doesn't discriminate, so even assholes like Rafe can't escape the clutches of her fondness, but she's harmless... most of the time.

Ward nudges his son in the direction of the lady, who is eagerly waiting for the boy with her creams placed in an orderly fashion before her. Rafe's eyes practically begging for his dad to have some mercy on him only to earn a point in her direction.

"I hate you," he huffs at me, feet dragging towards the ladies till.

Fluttering my eyes with a cheesy smile, "I know," I say before turning to finish Mr Cameron's groceries.

"That's $236 please," I state ringing up his total as he slides his card into the swipe machine, "It'll take a minute, a caveman has better technology than this place." He shakes his head at me, waving his hand slightly, understanding.

"Sea salted chocolate, uh?" he wonders picking up the bar, as I mentally slap myself for forgetting to ask if he was interested, "Would you like to buy one?" I questioned despite already knowing his answer. It's the same one that I've heard all day.

Placing the packet back in its place he shakes his head, "No thank you, I wouldn't trust anything made by that lady."

"That's what I'm saying," ripping off his receipt before handing it to him, "Thank you, Mason," he laughs before turning towards his son, who is still listening to Mrs Adams ramble on about why she prefers Olay over Caudlíne.

About to bid farewell to the man, he turns and asks, "I hate to be a bother and I know it's short notice, but would you mind babysitting Wheezie for me on Saturday morning, I know you don't normally work weekends, it's just this storm's going to cause a run-in with my properties and-"

"Of course I will, Mr Cameron," I interrupted his ramble. He looks at me relieved, nodding his head, "See you later, Mason."

"Bye Ward," gross, I'm sticking with Mr Cameron.

Watching as the pair walk past my till I can't help but laugh as I see Rafe slouching away with a tub of Olay Anti-ageing cream. Turning around at the sound, he flips me off, "I'll get you back for this," earning a shoving on the shoulder from his dad, but I can't help but wave cheerily, "Oh, I'm sure you will."

Mr Ward Cameron, my other boss. A few years ago I put up flyers with a tear-off of my phone number offering a babysitting service. Safe to say, I got my fair share of prank calls and when I got a call from someone claiming to be Mr Cameron I assumed it was someone messing with me again, but it turns out it wasn't. He genuinely needed someone to watch his youngest daughter Wheezie and I needed cash, and he does pay generously, especially now considering recent circumstances.

Glancing at the clock that is nailed above the exit I see that it's 2:00 P.M, the best time of my day, getting out of here. Grabbing the key from my pocket, I lock up the till before heading toward the poor excuse of a staff room.

Glancing around the room blue painted room, making sure no one is still on their lunch, I quickly grab my bag and dash over to the fridge. I never, and mean never, condone stealing, that's why I don't call it that. I prefer 'borrowing and then 'forgetting' to give it back'. Sure, I never asked if I could 'borrow' the alcohol that I am currently stuffing in my bag but, that's neither here nor there.

I throw my bag, which I can already tell is going to cause my back hell, over my shoulder. I grab Kie longboard, which I did ask for permission to use, and begin to make my way past the checkouts.

Before leaving, I pivot around, "Hey, Mrs Adams," I called out just to see that she was already glaring in my direction, a bit creepy if you ask me, "Don't worry, you've only got like what, another 6 hours?" acting like I didn't know as I pointed at the clock.

"Oh, and before I forget," I rush over to her counter and rip my calculator off her till. Smiling sweetly at the older lady, saluting her as I leave, "See you next week, Mrs Adams," I laugh, running out the door, jumping onto the longboard.

Let the fun begin.

Now there is something about my friends that you should know. As cheesy as its sounds, we're a group of misfits who happen to fit perfectly together, well almost perfectly, but no matter what we've got each other backs.

Now, where do we start?

JJ Maybank. We've been best friends since the third grade after he got into a fight with some kids who were making fun of me for having a 'boys name', and I haven't been able to get rid of him since. He's the guy who jokingly pushed me off the HMS Pogue only to quickly find out that I couldn't swim. I insisted that it was fine but JJ doesn't take no for an answer and took it upon himself to personally teach me.

He's the most loyal guy I know, willing to drop anything to help his friends. I most definitely developed my kleptomaniac tendencies from him and despite how much I deny it, I have a soft spot for him.

Next, Kiara Carrera or Kie, my best and only girl friend. I met Kie during her first year at the Kook Academy, I had seen her around before, passing out leaflets about how 'we're killing our planet' and that 'the turtles deserve better'.

I was about to go fishing with my dad when I saw someone sitting at the dock, feet dangling in the water. Long story short: she was supposed to meet up with some of her 'friends' but they had sailed away leaving her behind. So, I asked if she would like to come fishing with us, half expecting her to say no, being partly a Kook and all, but she said yes. And now she's one of us, the Pogues. Not sure how her parents feel about that, but there is no denying I'm their favourite. Right?

There's Pope Heyward. I met Pope in the first grade. We were sitting beside each other at assembly and he dared to tell me that my singing voice sounded like cats dying, not that he was any better mind you. I had seen him around the cut a few times, helping his dad with deliveries and after seeing him struggle to carry four bags of groceries, I offered him some help. Of course, being a stubborn 6-year old boy, he delined saying 'I don't need your help, I'm super strong'. Safe to say, two seconds later I was carrying two bags and helped Pope and Mr Heyward with the rest of the deliveries that day.

I got an earful from my dad when I got home, but I didn't care, I'd made a friend that wasn't my brother. They didn't believe me when I said I had a friend called Pope, just brushing it off as one of my imaginary friends. Let's just say they got a fright when my 'imaginary friend, Pope' showed up at the Château.

Speaking of, up next, John Booker Routledge, John B. My twin, fraternal twin. Is 12 minutes older than me and will never let me forget it. My favourite memory with John B was when he fought to the death with our triplet in the womb. Okay, maybe that didn't happen, but you weren't there so, where's your evidence that it didn't?

He's my other half, not my better half because we all know I'm the better twin, and I couldn't live with him and his optimism. He can be irrational at times, but he always has plan A-Z mapped out in his head. I'm currently trying to convince him that we psychic powers, and by currently I'm mean from the day we were born. It's a weird sensation like there's a pit in the bottom of my stomach, and once I get that feeling I know that something's not right. And with a brother like John B, I get that feeling at least 3 times a day.

Might as well introduce myself whilst I'm at it. I'm Mason, Mason Routledge. The better twin. Yes, I too, have a middle name but I will never tell it to anyone because of how utterly embarrassing it is. I have managed to swear John B to secrecy, but I know it's just a matter of time before he blurts it out.

Now I know what you're probably thinking, 'Mason? That's a boys name.' Well yes, you'd be right but really what is a boys or girls name? The reason why I'm called Mason is simple, mom and dad were expecting twins. Twin boys. They had the names planned out as soon as they heard the news. One would be named John B after our dad, Big John, and the other would be named Mason, after our mom's dad. Makes sense, right?. Well, it was until I popped out, y' know not being a boy. But I love my name and I wouldn't change it for the world. My unspoken middle name, however, yes, I would rather that just not be associated with me.

I like to believe that I can hold my own, maybe it's because I grow up in a predominantly male household or the fact that I'm a Pogue, but I don't take peoples shit. My friends and I seem to always have the world against us, but without a doubt, I'd ride or die for them. They're my family.

Seeing the all too familiar hippie van parked at the side off the road brings me out of my autopilot state. Jumping off the longboard, I hurriedly shoved it into the back of the van. Fun fact about John B's van, he never locks it. There would be the fear about someone stealing it, but honestly, it's trashed and smells like weed, no thanks to JJ.

Quickly scaling the fence and as quietly as possible I tip-toed into the under-construction house and up the cement stairs, dodging the dangling wires and leftover pots of plaster.

'I can't believe they got rid of the turtles for this'

I'd know that voice anywhere. Peering around the corner, I spot Kie, hunched over a table reading what I'm assuming is maps for the house. Coming up with an idea, I slowly start to creep towards her, raising my hands just to clasp them down on her shoulders, "And what do you think you're doing?" I say in the deepest voice I can muster.

Jumping out her skin with a squeal, she spins around, hand over her heart, breathing heavily, "Macy, what the fuck? Don't do that," she exclaims, slapping my arm after she realises it was only me.

Unable to stop myself from laughing at her shock, "God, Kie, didn't know you had such a girly scream," I wheeze, arms wrapped around my stomach in an attempt to stop the ache.

Nodding her head pettily, "Yeah okay, you got me," clicking her tongue, but against her best efforts, a small smile dances across her face.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm my giggles, "Once you're done with sad girl hours, come out back, I've got beer," making my way towards the open glass doors.

"Caring about the turtles doesn't make me a sad girl," she exclaims as I nod my head understandingly, "You keep telling yourself that," I wave stepping outside, breathing in the fresh ocean breeze.

From under the scaffolding, I see a pair of dangling legs, "Afternoon, boys," I announce, jumping up in an attempt to smack the dangling feet that I now know belong to JJ

"Did you get the goods?" asks John B causing me to hold my hand on my heart, mocking insult, "Do you have no faith in me Johnny boy," tosing him a beer, "Of course, I got the goods."

Holding one out for Pope, even though I knew he would decline, proving my point as he shook his head, "And where did you get said goods?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

Grabbing two beers, I begin to climb up the scaffolding, plopping down next to JJ, handing him a beer which he greatly excepts, "Are you question my morals?" I ask, taking a big gulp of my beer instantly wincing at the lukewarm taste.

"No, no," I hear him say, turning around, occupying himself with the builder's tools.

It a pretty view from up here. The calm crashing of the waves. The way the cold ocean and the warm sky meet for a perfect kiss on the horizon. Imagine living here. Having no worries. Being full Kook.

Glancing at the boy beside me, I see that he was already looking at me. Lifting my eyebrows in question, "You look cute," he cheekily says, picking at the loose thread on my sleeve.

"Very funny JJ," I saying, looking back out at the water, "No, I'm serious. I love a woman in uniform," nudging his shoulder into mine and I nudge him right back, "Hey," he laughs, dramatically falling to his side, "Watch the sweet nectar," holding his can of beer dearly to his chest.

Shaking my head, I turn to see John B scaling the house, jumping up to the peak of the roof, "Hey, please be careful, Johnny B, we don't earn enough to cover a medical bill," I warn sitting my beer beside me, using my hands to block the blinding sun, staring questionably at the boy.

"Oh, but you'd catch me though, right?" he says, now taunting the idea of falling, balancing on one foot with outstretched arms, "And break your fall? Nope," I popped, reach over to grab my can only to grasp the air. Looking at where I know I placed it, my confusion vanishes when I hear the sounds of slurping beside me.

Blinking at the boy, who just peers back at me after tanning my can, crushing it, and letting out a pleasant burp which he so graciously blows in my direction, "Gross, JJ," attempting to swat away the smell. The boy just shrugs, "What were you not done with that?" faux concern covering his face but his eyes glistening with knowing mischief.

"Should I do it?"

"Yeah, jump. I'll shoot you on the way down," says Pope, aim a drill in my brother's direction, "You'll shoot me?" John B taunts, holding up a finger gun, "Pow," he laughs as Pope fall back onto the table pretending to be shot.

"They're going to have Japanese toilets with towel warmers," complains Kie, slugging her way onto the balcony, voicing her distaste for the future Kook's beach house.

"Didn't I tell you to come out when you were done being sad?", I direct, leaning my chin against the cold pole, feeling on top of the world as the fresh breeze blows through my hair.

That swiftly changes when Kie dashes towards my feet, tugging the laces on my converses loose as I hastily attempt to lift my feet away from her snapping fingers, "Go away!" I exclaim hugging my legs to my chest, tusking at her antics "God, you're annoying."

My comment doesn't affect her as she blows me a kiss which I can't help but catch, holding it to my heart sending a wink in her direction, "This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtle I guess?"

"Well, I did, but since you've-" I start, but the feeling of my shoe gets tighter distracts me, "...What are you doing?" I question as JJ finishes up my shoes, "You should double knot your laces," he comments, tapping his fingers in a random beat on the toe of my shoes.

Lightly, I begin to flick his hand away only for him to grab my wrist, fiddling with the silver ladybug charm on my bracelet, "Can I have this?" He has asked me this multiple times in the past and the answer has always been the same, "No."

"Can you please not kill yourself?" Kie squints up at my brother, "And don't spill that beer, you're not getting another one," JJ adds just as a sudden gust of wind brushed past causing John B to lose his balance and drop his beer.

Jinx.

"Oh, shit. No!" cries John B, making grabby hands at his fallen beer.

"Of course you did, like right when I told you."

"Smooth."

"Well done, dumbass!"

"Hey!"

The sound of a car pull up to the driveway halts our attack on John B, yelling being heard, "Hey, uh, securities here. Let's wrap it up," confirms Pope, making JJ and I raise to our feet as John B slides off the roof, "Boys are here early today."

Rushing over to grab my bag once my feet are back on the balcony, I lean over the railing squinting, "Gary? Is that you?" I asked, "You know it's me, Mason."

Turning around to look at friends, "It's Gary guys," I smile, "Gary, good to see you, man!" JJ adds and quickly pulls the back of my bag when he sees Gary climb up the stairs, "JJ!"

"You two, are asking for it," Kie laughs as we all rush back through the house, all of us laughing and cheering, running down the stairs, "Go, go!" I giggled as I Gary's attempts to grab me but I duck under his swinging arms, running out to the garden.

"Not much of a hugger man," JJs joke echoing off the empty wall of the house.

Running up beside Pope, I urge him up over the fence, "Come on, Pope, go, go, go," landing on the other side, watching as he lands flat on his face, "Graceful as always Pope," I giggle pulling him back on his feet.

"Come on Pope, Fatso's coming" JJ encourages, suddenly landing beside us just barely missing the hot-headed security who is dangling over the fence, "Come here, you little pricks!"

"Bus is leaving," John B pulls up the van honking the horn, Kie opening the door for us, laughing as we shove each other in. John B wastes no time hitting the gas, driving away from the angry security.

"Check out Gary, gunnin' for a raise," Pope laughs as we watch a hopeless Gary chase after the van.

Having an idea, JJ unzips my bag and leans out of the open door, "Come on Gary," he taunts, waving the beer can in front of the man like you would a dog with a treat.

"You're going to give him a heart attack," Kie sympathises but still finds his actions amusing, "You're so close! You can do it. There you go," he tosses the can at the poor man who attempts to dodge it.

"God, they don't pay you enough, man" I laugh peering out the door, taking in the sight of Gray who is wheezing with his hands planted on his knees.

Seeing enough torture for one day, Kie tugs us back in, "That's enough," she says finally feeling sorry for the poor man, sliding the door close.

"Oh, come on. That sort of initiative is just begging to be punished," reasons JJ, plopping down in the back of the van, now finding interest fiddling with the blunt he pulled from his back pocket.

I lean my head on Kie's shoulder and sigh, "I love Gary," I confess, earning a flick on the head from Pope and a nudge on the leg from JJ

We're the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time, all the time.

Prologue: FIN!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to explore Mason’s character and her adventures with the Pogues. I have so much planned for her.

I hope you enjoyed this introduction <3

[john1513kjv-blog]

Mario Lopez speaks out on Pager U about transgenderism and the idea that parents are letting their children to choose their own gender, to which Mario says, it's dangerous to let your child choose their gender when they're not old enough to make such decisions.

This is what he had to say:

“Look, I’m never one to tell anyone how to parent their kids obviously, and I think if you come from a place of love, you really can’t go wrong.”

“But at the same time, my God, if you’re three years old and you’re saying you’re feeling a certain way or you think you’re a boy or a girl or whatever the case may be, I just think it’s dangerous as a parent to make this determination,” he continued. “Then, well, okay, then you’re going to a boy or a girl, whatever the case may be … It’s sort of alarming and my gosh, I just think about the repercussions later on.”

The 45-year-old entertainment host explained that when you’re that young “you don’t know anything about sexuality yet, you’re just a kid.”

https://faithit.com/mario-lopez-dangerous-kids-pick-own-gender/

Reading this, I would applaud for his statement because if we're gonna be responsible parents (as a privilege given by God), we're are to guide our children in the right way (in the way of serving and loving God) and leave the discussion of sex and gender when they are older.

Children are not mentally prepared for things like that neither they should be thinking like that.

However, sadly Lopez had to "apologize" for his statement on children picking their gender. Because his fame is much more important than God.

In a statement to PEOPLE on Wednesday, Lopez apologized for his remarks.

“The comments I made were ignorant and insensitive, and I now have a deeper understanding of how hurtful they were,” he said. “I have been and always will be an ardent supporter of the LGBTQ community, and I am going to use this opportunity to better educate myself. Moving forward I will be more informed and thoughtful.”

https://www.google.com/amp/s/people.com/tv/mario-lopez-criticized-comments-parenting-transgender-kids/amp/

This is no surprise to Christians. We are called to stand by the truth, and proclaim the gospel to those who are lost. Anyone who denies this stance concerning sexuality, is ultimately denying Christ.

Matthew 16:25-26 KJV

25 For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.

26 For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

Am I saying that telling an LGBT person this precious truth, is hate? No. Disagreement does not 100% equal hate. We are called to love our enemies and pray for those that persecute and hate us. But by no means we should shrink away from the faith because of the majority will be against you for standing for the truth.

To any of the LGBT people who will see this post, I will let you know: I don't hate you. No, in fact I will not stand for unjust treatment of LGBT kids rejected by their families. But, at the same time, I won't say that I will condone that behavior, because that's not how God created you to be.

Genesis 1:27 KJV

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

The truth is, we inherited the sinful nature of Adam and Eve, and not it caused a wall between our relationship with God, it affected our relationship with our fellow man, including our sexual relationships and how we identify ourselves.

I don't think anyone of us realizes that identifying ourselves anything other than the gender we were assigned to since birth, is a form of hatred towards God, when He had loved us and considered us His most precious treasure.

God knew us before He "formed us in our mother's womb" (Jeremiah 1:5) and has determined who we are, personality and genderwise.

And sadly, because of our rebellious, sinful nature, we choose to reject God's ways and decide we can choose our gender. God doesn't want this for His creation. He wants us to live with Him, and fix our relationship with Him. And unless there is anyway to undo this constant rebellion, any sinner (including LGBT people) that doesn't acknowledge this as an act of sin, will not be part of the kingdom of heaven.

1 Cornithians 6:9-10 ESV

Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality,10 nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

So you're probably asking, "How can I even hope to enter heaven if God says that anyone including LGBT people who does these things can't enter there"?

Well, I have good news for you. God has provided a way for all of us to really enter heaven. How he did it?

John 3:16-17 NKJV

16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him [obeys His word] should not perish but have everlasting life. 17 For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.

Because God loves all of you so much, that He gave His Only Son [Jesus], who He also love, that you will feel that nothing in this world, even what you identify as, will never satisfy your needs. The only one who can fill the emptiness in your heart, is Jesus. Who took the hit for you, for the punishment of sin. It was our sin (including homosexuality) that crucified Him, and it should have been us who should be crucified there. But Jesus decided to take our place there.

Because of LOVE!

It was love that by what He did, is so we can have a second chance to enter heaven again and have a relationship with God, like a father who is waiting for his rebellious son to come back.

Because God loves us so, He will not force His love towards those that don't want it. The beauty of how He created us, is that he gave us free will and the freedom to choose of we want to follow and obey Him, or choose our own way, but end up lost forever.

I hope that even someone out there, may see this that may have the hope and desire to be right with God again.

God is calling you home! The only question remains, do you want to return home?

[geekgirles]

My opinion on Kagami

I've been wanting to do this for a while, and the latest leak we got from Jeremy only gave me more reasons to share.

Now, know that I'm not trying to roast anybody or shaming them for their opinions under any circumstances. I just want to share mine.

Nowadays, my thoughts on her are... complex. The easiest way to sum this up would be with the same point many other fans experience through Lila: hate her character but love her design. Please, put the knives down!

I don't hate Kagami, but I'd be lying if I said I'm happy with the way she's being handled. From my point of view, she's very cute! From all her freckles to her bright brown eyes... Not to mention her clothes! I totally saw one of my dream outfits in hers. In terms of view, what's not to like?

Now, the way she's currently written... That's another story.

In my opinion, she's kind of gone downhill since Riposte. Then, we got a glimpse of what a healthy love rival looked like. She acknowledged Adrien's fondness of Marinette in no time, didn't show signs of falling head over heels for him at first sight (no easy feat for this show, tbh) and didn't treat Marinette as a threat right away! Bonus points for fencer girl!

But ever since Frozer... Kagami's character has turned from determined and serious to judgemental. There's nothing wrong with a character being cold and confident, especially if they're supposed to be good guys, but by then she had started being just another love rival.

Why is this so important to me?

Well, leaving aside the importance of the romantic factor for a show based on the confusing love story of its two main characters, because I took Feri's words to heart. Kagami and Luka were supposed to be charming, well-rounded characters, not just love interests. And yet, I get to see that in Luka a lot more than I do in Kagami.

This meant a lot to me because every single love rival Marinette has had so far has been/is a jerk to her! How are we going to show young girls that love rivals aren't the same as sworn enemies if a show directed to them portrays just that!

And don't tell me that's just how girls act because if it's wrong to let boys insist on asking out a girl who is clearly not interested so is letting girls cat fight.

Back to the point.

While I myself prefer to see Kagami's interaction with Marinette as tough love/advice, both Thomas and Feri explained she basically told her to step up her game, or Adrien's hers. Which, yeah. Can be both advice AND a threat. This last statement comes from the fact that Kagami's last interaction with Adrien in Frozer turned out to be Kagami deeming Marinette as unworthy of Adrien's affections. Hence, the "When you see you're wrong [about your target], I'll be there" moment. She basically told Adrien Marinette was the wrong choice.

And then, there's Animaestro. Now, I do not condone Chloé and Marinette's actions at all. But Kagami was no saint either. While there's no denying Marinette and Chloé gave her the stink-eye first, she was just as jealous as them and fueled their insecurities when she took Adrien's arm, which is nothing bad itself, especially since it didn't make Adrien uncomfortable (take notes Chloé & Lila), but it looked as a "take that" move, y'know? And she also kept giving Marinette the stink-eye whenever she was around Adrien, to the point where she looked outraged by her mere presence. Things we've seen before in Backwarder, for example.

And... *sigh* how could we forget Oni-chan?

While her rage in this episode was righteous and it wasn't directed at Marinette, it portrayed Kagami in a light that didn't make her justice. It could be argued jumping to conclusions makes her more human, but don't say it's something we only saw in this episode because this whole post is about her making assumptions of Marinette. But I must admit this time took the whole cake! Her anger was terrifying. But I need to pretend the plot-convenient plot holes don't exist for a minute to talk about something: that reaction was way over the top.

It would, of course, be understandable if we were aware Kagami's met Lila before and she thinks of her the same as Marinette does. But that's not the case. Then why does she react like that?! You'd expect that after hearing Adrien practically gush about Marinette and finding her almost everywhere they go (sometimes even per Adrien's request), she'd be more sold on the idea of Mari being the one he loves. Yet, the only explanation I've found online is that she thought Lila was his girlfriend. Hello???? Wouldn't it be the normal thing to do to wonder just who the Hell is this girl you haven't even heard of and calling Adrien to find the answer? Well, apparently not.

And now that we know Kagami will be the Dragon miraculous holder I'm a bit disappointed. Don't worry. It has nothing to do with all this. It's because it's... predictable. Way too predictable.

On the one hand, it's true a friend of mine and I headcanoned she could get the horse miraculous, and I'm a bit bummed out about it. But for the most part it is because of how predictable it is.

Leaving aside their faces, which is where the heroes become more obvious to us, the viewers, if we take Marinette's Ladybug costume, there are still clear differences between her hero self and her civilian self. While still using polka dots, they are far less numerous or notorious than Ladybug's and, most importantly, her main colours are white and pink, as opposed to the superheroine's red and black.

Kagami, on the other hand, uses red and black as her primary colours in both outfits. And, on top of it, she's an Asian fencer, so the fact that she wields the Dragon (clearly Asian-based) miraculous which includes a sword is such a surprise...

But seriously! I don't hate her!

She clearly has some great moments such as when she helped Marinette up, or as I call it, the "move I'm gay move", or when she stood up against Chloé. It's just that her role in the Love Square doesn't look like it's balanced. Kagami can be hostile to Marinette and fuels her insecurities, as opposed to Luka and Adrien's chilled interactions and Luka's effect on gradually making Adrien see Marinette as more than just a friend.

Well, as always, I'll guess we just have to wait and see.