#however. this *is* the final regression

[lee-hakhyun]

admittedly have not read the side stories yet, and i apologize if you've talked about this before! just wanted to hear your thoughts on SS deciding to continue past the ending of ORV. the end felt the perfect kind of vague but hopeful to me, but the few side story spoilers ive seen have introduced new information that makes it feel like we're losing the open-endedness of the epilogues. do u have any thoughts on that? thank u :))

i do trust singshong has a plan for the side story. their goals are probably similar to what rep kdj has expressed, actually.. wanting to give stories to those who didn't get a chance to in orv. they wouldn't continue writing for no reason

story wise- it was a perfect ending. han sooyong poured her all into orv, and it succeeded. the portal to end the story with their own personal happy ending was there. but she willingly chose to continue on, because there was still a chance to get all of kim dokja back.

also. the fact that the portals existed in the first place, the orv readers transmigrating, the 'kim dokja fragments'. we are an actual part of the story now. i feel like in some part, the side story is

[leafatlaw]

Hmm random thing thats happened without me noticing it: Deraps gotten stingier with his hearts. Previously, Deraps been on twenty breifly, but hes also been on like two, he knows what its like to be both. So when he gets high on hearts again hes eager to give them away, to his new team, either The Sticklers or whoever. And when him and Zam teamed, he made a point of giving hearts, as few as Zam would accept, saying he wanted them to be on the same number of hearts. And they were for awhile. And then Derap died to Flame and the wardens like THREE times and for awhile realized hearts dont matter.

But sometime after Zam left and Parrot arrived, that changed. Derap changed fundamentally. He borrowed hearts from Jumper and resistes giving them back. He took hearts from Pangi, and never gave him any, despite saying that he planned a video to give him alot of hearts. He kept all(?) of the Parrot hearts even though I think he was supposed to split them with Rek.

If I had to guess I would say, it had something to do with him being abandoned again. With him being exiled from spawn and ally-less against what felt like half the server. He started looking out for himself first and then Parrot refused to return, and that solidified that thought. Derap made deals with Mapicc his former enemy against Pangi, his closest friend. All for the sake of looking out for himself.

And once Zam returned, it’s as if she immediately noticed the chance, just unable to put it into words. Derap changed, he was the giving, loyal ally she teamed with 97 days ago. In a really damning moment Derap did not offer her hearts until she died again to Flame, even though he knew she was low. And when Zam refused, he didn’t even insist.

This change which happened so slowly I almost didn’t notice appears to have slipped by Derapchu himself. Maybe it’s just the normal lifesteal cycle, maybe this change is natural. Either way, I don’t think it’s a change for the better.

[ittybittystarryshow]

middle school ichika once again making me fall to my knees... i keep thinking about it but poor baby has definitely slipped into a smaller headspace a TON during middle school/her first year of high school and just didn't have the language or words to understand it and it probably made her feel more alienated at the time, definitely tries to repress it due to the worry that feeling like a child would separate her from her classmates even more but the moment she has some alone time it just comes in full-force :[ poor thing nearly starts screaming due to being in so much distress, just wishing that she was a kid again because the world was just nicer back then, and just wishing that she could be happy :[

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

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[orviposition]

Fun fact, "Tell me you fool if I continue to regress will I ever get to meet you again?" isn't exactly mistranslated the way y'all think.

Yes, "Tell me you fool" doesnt exist in the korean text however Yoo Joonghyuk does use his signature "you fool" petname in this line, and however else it was tled, it would've flown poorly in english.

However theres one other word that doesn't exist in the korean and that is "again."

AND ALSO

The line is actually tied to Yoo Joonghyuk's previous line to Kim Dokja: "I heard that the scenarios exist not just for the Incarnations, but for the Constellations, as well. Maybe, it was the same for you."

So the final line could easily be just

"I heard that the scenarios exist not just for the Incarnations, but for the Constellations, as well. So, tell me you fool, if I continue to regress will I ever get to meet you?"

0th Yoo Joonghyuk is using regression as a means to remain in the scenarios because that's the only hope he has to meet 51% Kim Dokja at the end of his long and arduous journey.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”  

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded. 

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2

[kkayyerr]

Puppy!reader with season 1!Rafe and he is trying to play golf and wants her to focus on him but she keeps getting distracted.. then he gets all rough and like manhandles her.

Ugh! It’s a need!

Attention seeker.

Summary: Rafe hates when his little girl is not paying attention to him. Luckily, he has his ways to help her stay focused.

Pairing: Frat!Daddy!Rafe x Little!puppy!reader.

Warnings: Age regression, Rafe being a meanie, mostly fluff.

Rafe loved the attention, especially from you. He liked how you would watch him do anything with those small glimpses in your eyes.

It was kind of adorable. 

Especially you liked watching him play golf, clapping your little hands every time when the ball would reach the right spot. You would cheer him up even if the ball wouldn’t reach the hole, because usually you were just excited to be there and support your Daddy through his game.

However, today Rafe noticed that your attention was centered around something else. Those goddamn coloring books that he had bought you earlier. He didn’t mind you being quiet and calm, but right now he wanted to see you paying attention to him and not those childish drawings. 

 

„Hey, baby! Are you watching?”

 

Rafe called out to see your reaction, and he smiled softly at you when you finally raised your head, distracting yourself from coloring. You nodded quickly, even though you clearly couldn’t tell what he was doing the last couple of minutes. You waited until Rafe would turn around and then got your eyes back on the coloring book. 

How would Rafe notice that you are not paying attention? 

After all, he was too busy playing golf to check on you every five seconds.

Or at least you thought so. 

Rafe made another attempt at hitting the ball with the club but missed it. That small mistake made him very frustrated, but what angered him even more is that he hasn't heard any cheering noises from you. He turned around just to see you sitting in the same place, holding crayons in both of your hands and completely ignoring his presence. 

Your behavior was starting to piss him off. 

Rafe dropped the club onto the ground and headed towards you. He approached you quickly, not giving you any chances to explain yourself before harshly yanking your shoulders. 

 

„Baby, do you forget what you have to look at, or am I just not interesting to you anymore, huh?”

 

You tilted your head down, immediately hiding your embarrassed face from him. You dropped your crayons down and slowly closed the coloring book. Your cheeks turned red because of his words, and his sharp tone almost made you tear up. He had rarely spoken to you in that tone when you were regressed. Only if you would do something really bad. 

His fingers grabbed your chin, and he quickly forced your head up, holding tight enough to bring your attention but not too tight to make it actually hurt. 

 

„I asked you a question.”

 

You looked at him, trying to figure out what to say to make him less mad at you, but it seems like you screwed up badly this time. Your eyes teared up from the overwhelming feelings of guilt and fear of him leaving, so you shook your head to swipe the tears away.

 

„I won’ do it `gain, Daddy.” 

 

Your voice was shaky, but you still needed to speak up like a big girl for him to forgive you, so you took a deep breath before continuing. 

 

„I love you more than coloring!”

 

Rafe chuckled at your childish statement, but for you those were big and meaningful words. He finally let go of your chin and picked you up into his arms, letting you rest your head on his shoulder and relax for a little bit. Rafe then went back to the golf cart and put you inside, placing you on one of the seats, so you would have an amazing view of him. 

He gave you a small kiss on the forehead and ruffled your hair a little bit too rough before stepping aside and heading back to the putt. 

 

„Don’t you even dare move an inch, puppy.”

 

He said, and you nodded obediently, fixating your big eyes on him. For the rest of the day you were cheering him up, giving the loudest applause that you could, just so he would get back into the cart and reward you with some kisses and hugs.

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @aew-regression-cove @rafecameronsloverrrrr

[horse-girl-anthy]

Revolutionary Girl Utena: Gender in Context

beneath the cut, I discuss the RGU's portrayal of gender in the context of 1990s Japan.

in Ikuhara's interview with Mari Kotani, he stated that in traditional Japanese society, "prince" meant "patriarch." the same is true in Western societies--there was a time when a prince would be an heir to a royal line. by 1997, this meaning had died out of large parts of the world. even the association between princes and traditional masculinity was fading. Saionji, the weakest, most pathetic man in the show, is a parody of historical Japanese masculinity, with his kendo and his blatantly regressive beliefs about women.

in RGU, prince may still mean patriarch, but in a far more subtle fashion. Ikuhara and Kotani discussed the changing expectations for men in the latter half of the 20th century--it became gauche to fight over a woman with one's brawn, so instead, power struggles were played out in the arena of looks and sex appeal. one can see this reflected in the character Akio, whose power as a prince arises from his ability to turn "easy sensual pleasure based on dependency" "into a selling point with which to control people."

Akio has his moments of showboating masculinity, but when preying on Utena, he operates by making himself seem non-threatening and soft.

not only that, but he purports to want to allow students to express their individuality and thus approves of Utena's masculine form of dress. this is a front--by the end of the show, he's telling Utena that girls shouldn't wield swords. thus, through Akio's character, the show argues that traditionalist patriarchy in Japan isn't gone, but instead has only been papered over with false progressivism.

with all that said, there seems to be more to the character. he's taken the family name of his fiance, Kanae, and whatever material power he has in the school is dependent upon her family. in Japanese society, this is considered a humiliating position to be in, something that only a shameless man would do. the show never gives the audience any insight into how Akio feels about this--is he unbothered entirely, or are his actions against the Ohtori family an expression of his repressed anger? does he harm the children under his care to compensate for his humiliation?

this aspect of Akio's character may seem irrelevant in light of the larger, immaterial social forces at work in the show. however, I would argue that it was included for a reason. Akio, despite his status as ultimate patriarch of Ohtori, is in fact a highly emasculated character, to the point where lead writer Enokido even said that he is driven by an infantile mother complex.

to explain why Akio was portrayed this way, we have to discuss Japanese history. the nation suffered a major defeat in WWII and was forced to accept whatever terms the United States laid out for it. for an examination of how the Japanese have never truly processed those events and have plunged into modernity with reckless abandon, I recommend Satoshi Kon's Paranoia Agent. to sum it up briefly, in a very short period, the nation regained its economic footing, and by the 1980s had the largest gross national product in the world. this economic boom may have allowed Japan to maintain a sense of sovereignty, dignity, and power, but it was inherently fragile.

the infamous "bubble economy" lasted from 1986 to 1991. during this time, anything seemed possible; financial struggles appeared to be a thing of the past, and capitalist excess reached new heights. the ghosts of this period can be felt across Japanese media; for instance, think of the final shot of Grave of the Fireflies (1998), where the two dead children look down on Kobe, glowing an eerie green to imply its impermanence. the abandoned theme park from Spirited Away (2001) is explicitly referred to as a leftover from the previous century, when many attractions were built and then tossed aside in a few short years.

the bubble popped in 1992, leaving an entire generation feeling cheated. the bright futures they'd been promised, which had actually materialized for their parents and older siblings, had been lost to them overnight. economic crises are often accompanied by gender panics. to quote from Masculinities in Japan, "The recession brought with itself worsening employment conditions, undermining the system of lifelong employment and men’s status of breadwinners in general. The unemployment rate was rising, and although it never reached crisis levels, men could no longer feel safe in their salaryman status. Their situation was further complicated by the rising number of (married) women entering the workforce."

with this in mind, Akio's character can be taken as a representation of masculinity in crisis in 90s Japan. he's forced to rely on women for his position in life and has failed to save his only relative, Anthy. he tries to escape his misery through hedonism, perhaps an allegorical representation of how men tried to maintain their old standard of living after the economic bubble burst.

but of course, Akio is not the main character of RGU--the story is about girls. mangaka Yamada Reiji discussed the series in the context of the 90s, stating the following:

while I opened this essay by discussing the prince, the same points could be made about the princess. despite the increasing irrelevance of royalty, princess is still an important concept. how does it relate to the socioeconomic landscape of the 90s?

in Yamada's view, RGU is full of relics of the 80s; for instance, the figure of the ojou-sama, an entitled young woman who never lifts a finger for herself. during the economic bubble, it was increasingly common for women to be entirely taken care of by the men in their lives. Yamada names Nanami as a clear ojou-sama type character: she weaponizes her femininity, demanding to be rescued, doted on, and served.

however, by 1997, the ojou-sama could no longer expect to get what she wanted. from the 80s to the 90s, the percentage of women in the workforce increased around 15%; it was no longer viable for most women to be "kept" by their families. as the men experienced the humiliation of not being able to provide for their wives and children, women were undergoing a disillusionment of their own.

Yamada blames Disney for creating the ideological structure which led women astray. obviously, the company is known for its films about princes rescuing princesses. in Yamada's recounting, during the 80s, the company was infiltrating Japan through its theme parks as well; across the country, Disneylands were opening up, and people were buying into the escapism the corporation offered. Japan, as America, became a country of eternal children. its people were waiting for a prince to appear and save them.

but fairy tales can't stave off reality forever. Yamada claims that RGU embodies the rage of young women who woke up one day and realized that they had been raised on a lie. this anger pervades the work from beginning to end.

though RGU was created in a particular social context, its lessons can be extrapolated to any time and place. as the first ending tells us:

I hope this essay helped provide more context for the series. thanks for reading!

[little-saw]

sys LITTLE + sys CG ! doey doughman headcanons !! ☆ *

( part 2 )

Before you read, I'm making a few rules / disclaimers. I am not a part of a system. I made this as both a req and a way of beginning to learn how to write hcs for systems. Any and all (gentle) criticism is welcomed! I headcanon Doey to be a part of a system with the 3 kids in his body. Finally, I will not tolerate discourse, I have no interest in listening to fights about who is and who isn't valid. I don't care about your views. Do not discuss them here.

Req by anon :)

• Doey's system originates from the young children combined in their body, as well as the traumatic event that involved such.

• Doey experiences bad dissociative episodes. They got especially bad when Poppy left. Matthew, who is the systems caregiver, was able to regress around her, so her leaving was very triggering.

• Their episodes are disabling and disorientating, but they try to push them down so as not to scare the little toys.

• Their collective name is, of course, Doey the Doughman, and their connection to their human names has disappeared with time.

• They don't exactly have a "host," they share a body made for them and have equal amounts of identity amongst it.

• Jack is their systems little, being the first body in Doey, his trauma and fear can easily affect the others in their system. Usually agitating Kevin or making Matthew anxious.

• Kevin took the form as a protector to cope with the abuse and trauma all 3 experienced. He tends to front mostly when they collectively are all upset. He is extremely moody and aggressive, as well as impulsive.

• Matthew fronts the most, as he is the most mature. He acts as the systems caregiver, proving comfort to the others during times of pain. Both in his system and the toys around him.

• Kevin and Matthew are very protective and brotherly to Jack.

• They have a few other alters, but those were not once physical human beings such as the 3 boys.

• On nights where Jack is fussy, Matthew will care for him, reassuring him he's safe and they'll have dinner in the morning. And one day, he'll be home to mommy and daddy.

• Kevin has ADHD, which ended up spreading to their entire new body. Doey spends time stimming by singing and humming their old theme song. as well as clapping, wiggling, and stretching their limbs

• These are also grounding techniques for when they feel somewhat switchy.

• Kevin tries not to regress, not wanting to be seen as weak, however occasionally he does slip.

• He's an impure regressor, much more violent and cranky than Jack is. But Matthew knows how to handle him.

[lottienathive]

right off the bat, nat and lottie are introduced as complete opposites - lottie is rich, sweet, soft-spoken, etc. and nat is poor, extremely brash, and bold. even wearing a skirt and jacket, but in completely different ways. this is an easily understood set-up for their first time in the wilderness. the very first dilemma of the show—the allie situation—is also very representative of this. lottie is unsure on how to approach the situation and doesn’t assert herself (“she kinda sucks, but… i don’t know.”) whereas nat makes her opinion very clear (“that’s because it’s bullshit” / “you know what? fuck this.”) after the crash., nat throws herself onto travis almost immediately following the loss of his father. she immediately sticks up for him when lottie makes a jab (“who died and made him king of snacks?” “his dad, lottie, literally his fucking dad.”) this is already showing us that nat is considered with the individual feelings of people around her, whereas lottie is more focused on the hive mind and likelihood of the group as a whole.

further into their time in the wilderness, both of the girls establish themselves as providers. nat becomes a hunter, providing food and protection since she’s the one who earns the privilege of having the only weapon. on the other hand, lottie is slowly made into a group leader because of the spiritual comfort she provides the girls with. in a desperate time of need, both of them are ready to provide and protect the group, but in completely opposing ways. they aren’t so different, really just two sides of the same selfless, caring coin. this complex rivalry makes much more sense when you look at their childhood individually. we see in season 1 that nat grew up in terrible circumstances, with an abusive alcoholic father and a dismissive mother, she is responsible for making her own way. her father’s death is symbolic of this; although she didn't kill him directly, it was her fault he died. because of this upbringing, nat has heavy walls built around her. she sees the world for what it's been to her: cruel. however, despite this cold shell that her parents caused her to develop, she's incredibly caring all the less. this is especially represented through her relationship with travis. lottie, while she grew up rich, clearly didn't have very loving parents. the first scene we see of her at home is before the crash, and while most of the other characters are being goodbye-hugged by family members, lottie is receiving a bottle of her medication from her maid. at the beginning of season 2, we see that lottie has had some sort of psychic abilities, able to predict a car crash before it happens. instead of taking time to understand her, her parents throw her into therapy and pump her up with medication following the rescue, lottie's parents take no time to process that their daughter has been heavily traumatized, and immediately send her away to a whole different country. the dismissiveness of lottie's parents, similar to nats, affected her in a completely opposite way. instead of building up walls and becoming cold, lottie seeks to use her abilities to give comfort to everyone else around her. while dealing wth similar core traumas, they react to it in very different ways.

despite this, lottie (especially adult timeline) stays prominent as the only person who can comfort nat. after years following the crash of replacing her pain with drugs, sex, etc. it took one week at lottie's camp for her to want to start healing. lottie did that for her. the regression scene shows that no matter how old she is, lottie is still the only person who can bring out the parts of herself that she tries to bury, in both positive and negative ways. the season 2 finale is where everything about their relationship shifts. i don't think enough people process that "the wilderness" is really just, obviously not completely, but in simple terms a manifestation of lottie's inner nature. when you listen to it, it gives you what you want. when lottie decides that nat should be the leader by saying "the wilderness already chose who should lead us," what she's really saying, unconsciously and metaphorically, is that she has noticed nat's resilience and determination to lead as a reflection of her own determination to lead. now...we talk about nat's death scene. happening parallel to the scene where she's crowned leader adult nat is accidently killed during a hunt put together by lottie to give the wilderness its final sacrifice, an exercise intended to help them let go. in her final moments between life and death, nat finds herself in that plane again. in her very final moments of life, what is nats last sight?? young lottie next to her, hand on her heart, telling her that it's going to be okay. as she says, "IT'S not evil, just hungry." this line correlates with what lottie said a few episodes earlier: "just because you don't understand something doesn't mean it's evil." nat and lottie both don't understand each other's ways of dealing with their issues, so they argue and they oppose. in a tragic end to their story, nat's death is documented as a drug overdose and lottie is sent away to a psych ward by her friends. despite everything they went through, the ups and the downs and the healing, lottie and nat will always be the psycho and the druggie. they are similar in this way: they are stuck with these issues and that's all they're seen for by anyone else. but they see each other as more.

you made so many excellent points. great analysis! they really are two sides of the same coin and narrative foils.

"the dismissiveness of lottie's parents, similar to nats, affected her in a completely opposite way. instead of building up walls and becoming cold, lottie seeks to use her abilities to give comfort to everyone else around her. while dealing with similar core traumas, they react to it in very different ways."

this part in particular reminded me of a thought i had the other day. about lottienat and the deer + moose symbolism. it pretty much reflects what you just mentioned. lottie being associated with the deer (a creature considered in many mythologies to be connected to the supernatural and the divine, a creature that prefers to live in herds. just like lottie who doesn't isolate herself by choice. she surrounds herself with people) vs nat being associated with the moose (unlike other deer species moose do not form herds and are solitary animals)

[ennkis]

They are talking in real life. I should’ve been more specific when I requested it

I’m sorry. I hope you have a good day 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'D BE YOURS IF YOU'D ASK. (kenan yildiz x reader)

summary : in which y/n ghosts the turkish footballer during their "situationship" whilst talking to another football player

face claim : no-one

notes : thank you for requesting !! lets pretend the copa america isnt going on at the same time as the euros lmao

pairings : kenan yildiz x reader , angsty fluff (?)

Y/n was familiar with the game of footballers. The heartbreak you'd get from talking with football players and then getting ignored out of nowhere, also known as ghosting. After multiple failed "talking stages" and "situationships" with various football players from all around the world, Y/n decided it was her turn to become the so-called ghoster. She enjoyed the sense of control and power it gave her.

As of June 2024, Y/n had been talking with a Turkish footballer named Kenan for about three months. After those three months, there was an undeniable change in the mood. She felt the conversations fade away, the replies becoming drier. After three months, you’d expect their relationship to progress, but instead, it felt like things were regressing.

A week had passed since she ghosted Kenan. She didn't choose the ideal time because the Euros were about to start. She thought maybe her absence would go unnoticed, or that Kenan would be too busy to care. But the truth was, she couldn’t handle the idea of being ghosted again. She took the first step to protect herself.

Kenan realized they hadn't talked in about a week while he was training for the Euros. The days were packed with intense practice sessions, team meetings, and strategy discussions. It wasn't until he had a quiet moment to himself that he noticed the absence of Y/n's messages. He checked his phone, scrolling through their last conversation, dated seven days ago.

He tried to brush off the feeling that she was ignoring him. Maybe she was just busy, maybe he was overthinking it. But as the days passed, he found himself missing her more than he expected. It wasn't just about the attention from her; it was the connection they shared, her way of always bringing his mood up, her way of cheering him up after a loss, the way she made him laugh, and how he could talk to her about anything going on in his life. He realized that he liked her much more than other friends do. He had a crush.

Even while training, Kenan's thoughts kept returning to Y/n. He made an effort to concentrate on the game, but it was difficult. What if she was truly over him? The thought of her abandoning him hit me like a blow to the stomach. Was she talking to another guy? Did she already have a boyfriend? Throughout the training, the worst-case scenarios couldn't stop forcing their way into his mind.

The day of the Georgia vs. Turkey game eventually arrived. Kenan decided to overlook the Y/n incident and concentrate on the match. However, he saw her in one of the VIP boxes as soon as he entered the field, he noticed her talking and giggling with a fellow football player, Kevin Alvarez. A wave of jealousy hit him. Why had she and Kevin come here? Is she trying to make me jealous? Is this some kind of game to her?

Kenan's attention split between the action on the field and Y/n in the crowd during the entire game. Kenan felt that Kevin was taking advantage of her companionship a bit too much. Knowing she was right there, laughing and giggling with someone else, made it difficult to focus.

Despite the distraction, Kenan played well and helped his team to win over Georgia. As the final whistle blew, he couldn't wait any longer. Eager to find out, he ran straight for the VIP box.

Kenan said "Y/n," as he walked up to her. Surprised to see him, she turned round, facing him. "Can we talk?"

Nodding, she followed him out of sight into a more peaceful area. "What's up, Kenan?"

He asked again, his irritation rising to the surface, "What's up? Why aren't you talking with me? And what's going on between Kevin and you?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Kevin? We're just friends. What is your problem?"

"My problem? What is MY problem?! You ghosted me, Y/n. One day we're talking, and the next, nothing. Then I see you here with him, giggling, flirting like everything's fine. Like i"

"Look, every time I get into a so-called 'talking stage,' it always ends with me feeling like I'm bothering the person in question and never in a successful relationship. All I was doing is giving you space."

"Space?" Kenan frowned deeper. "I didn't ask for space. I wanted to talk to you. Instead, you left me hanging, making me think I did something wrong."

Y/n moved reluctantly, her eyes glancing away for a while before returning to his. "I am sorry Kenan. It wasn't my goal to hurt your feelings."

Kenan's jaw tightened, showing his simmering displeasure beneath the surface. "But why didn't you talk it out with me? We could have solved the problem, together."

Kenan shook his head, a mix of exasperation and relief flooding him. "Y/n, I like you. A lot. Seeing you with Kevin… it drove me crazy."

Her gaze eased as she turned to face him. "Kenan, I'd be yours if you'd ask. However, you have to understand that I can't deal with the constant unpredictability of our relationship."

Kenan held her hand in his. "Okay. So, I want to be your official boyfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to take you out on dates, I want you to wear a jersey with MY name and MY number. I want a real relationship with you—not just a situationship or talking stage, an actual relationship."

As he was about to finish his sentence, Y/n hugged him. "Finally."

The tension slowly began to release as they stood there. They finally understood that they both wanted the same one thing: each other.

im hoping this is what you imagined while requesting, if not just lmk i can change anything <3

[bunnybuunn]

Little puppet.

Summary: Agatha finds out that little!reader is Wanda’s weakness and decides to steal her from the witch.

Warnings: Age regression, slight Mommy!Wanda, manipulations, force regression, Dark!Agatha.

Agatha knew, that she just has to wait. It won’t take too long until she finds something, that might be Wanda’s weakness, and when she would find it, she won’t hesitate to use it against the redhead. Agatha spend days, watching closely as Wanda was living her little perfect dream life, and honestly, the witch was getting bored out of her mind. Until one day when she saw someone, who might’ve helped her with her little mission.

You were sitting on the front yard of Wanda’s house, reading some children’s book. At first your unusual mannerism and childlike behavior confused Agatha, but then she looked closer and saw you as the perfect opportunity to get more control in the whole situation with Wanda.

Her sly smile grew bigger, when the witch came out of the house to check on you with an anxious look on her face. Just like that Agatha realized, that taking you away from Wanda would make her lose her stability and the last crumbs of her sanity.

The next couple of days Agatha spend waiting for a perfect opportunity to show up at Wanda’s house. And when that opportunity finally came, the witch was there to use it.

Wanda was already losing control of everything, and she felt extremely bad because she couldn’t be a nice caregiver to you today and give you enough attention. When her neighbor entered her house, she almost sighed with relief.

She actually needed help today, even if that meant letting Agnes take care of you for a couple of hours.

„But Mama, I can’t leave you!”

You protested, not wanting to leave your mama’s side. Wanda smiled softly at you. She didn’t want you to see her struggle so much and she definitely didn’t want you to worry about her. It was her job to take care of you, and now she was failing at it badly.

„I’ll be fine, baby. Just go with Agnes!”

You glanced at her once again and nodded. You wanted to help her feel better, but maybe she just wanted some alone time or some peace and quiet. You got up from the floor and grabbed your stuffie, excepting Agatha’s hands. The woman leads you out of the house and then brought you back to her place, not letting you out of her sight not even for one second.

Something strange was in her eyes, her look wasn’t caring like Wanda’s, it was more of the possessive one. You tried to hide your obvious anxiety, but Agatha could’ve still feel it.

The woman approached you from the back when you were putting your teddy bear down on the couch, and you almost flinched when you notice how close she was to you right now.

„Why are you so scared, my dear? I won’t bite.”

You haven’t notice when and how her eyes started to shine with a purple glimpses, you were too busy worrying about your mama. Your body and mind only reacted when her fingertips touched your forehead, making your brain blow up with the sudden tones of reappeared memories.

Your life flushed before your eyes, as you finally got free from Wanda’s spell.

„See? I just wanted to help you."

Agatha voice was the first thing you heard when you finally got back to your usual mindset. You shook your head before taking a long glance at your own body just to see yourself wearing some stupid pink clothes. It wasn’t your style at all, but it was what Wanda wanted to see on you.

„So, I am free now, right?”

You asked Agatha, hoping that you finally found a way out of the Hex and soon you’ll be able to return to your usual life without someone playing with you like if you were a puppet.

However, Agatha haven’t given you an immediate response.She just winked at you slyly and then put her hand on your back, gently caressing it.

Somehow her touch made you more relaxed and you were almost close to slip into the littlespace once again, even though it was the last thing you needed right now, giving the whole situation.

„You are free, darling, there’s just something I have to show you, so you won’t get fooled by that witch again.”

Agatha slowly lead you to the basement door. In any other situation you wouldn’t go in the strangers basement, but since the woman had just freed you from your kidnapper you couldn’t say „no” to her simple request.

You went along, not pushing her away or fighting her touches. You needed some comfort right now, after you just got your mind back.

As both of you got downstairs you felt the familiar anxious feeling that made your stomach twitch. The basement were empty and cold, and it didn’t take you long to realize that it was just another trap. You were ready to turn around and run, but Agatha soft whispers prevent you from doing that. Her words were soft and even though your mind couldn’t understand what she was saying exactly, it felt like your whole body understood her just well.

The next moment you felt how your mind went empty again.You weren’t feeling pressured that time like you had before. There were no struggles or fear, it was just pure peace and emptiness. Your body became much lighter, and you almost lost your balance, but Agatha’s hands quickly caught you before you could’ve fell to the cold floor.

„Feeling better now, my dear?”

You immediately nodded, giving in to her powers. You were not only regressed, but completely folded under the pressure of her magic and her soft whispers.

Agatha chuckled, titling your head up a little bit so she could see your little face and your beautiful empty eyes.

Now she knew what exactly Wanda had found interesting about you.

„Use your big girl words, doll. Mommy can’t understand you.”

You frowned, trying to say something, but failing to complete a whole sentence even in your thoughts. Agatha smirked, knowing that she had you exactly where she wanted too. Too weak and empty minded to argue or talk back. Or talk at all.

„Yeah, Mama.”

When the words had finally escaped your mouth, she smiled, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. It was strange for her to feel some kind of affection towards someone, but she wasn’t resisting. It was nice to have someone by her side, even if it was against their will.

„Good.”

Agatha murmured, her low voice send chills down your spine, but somehow still kept you calm. It was almost like you were depended on the sound of it now, but you weren’t complaining.

You couldn’t complain.

Agatha gave looked you up and down, before gently pulling the bow out of your hair. She got used to Wanda’s awful fashion choices, but now when you were in her care, she wanted you to look exactly like she wanted you too.

„I know that you got used to red and pink, but I hope you don’t have anything against purple, doll.”

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @aew-regression-cove

[littlelambscandyland]

Their Little Sister

Yandere!Cg!Jerome Valeska x PermaReggressor!Reader, Yandere!Cg!Jeremiah Valeska x PermaReggressor!Reader

Notes- Perma Regression is a form of involuntary regression that is permanent, often this is caused by severe trauma at an early age. In this story the reader is permanently regressed to around 6 years old.

Warnings- Canon typical violence, Reader is the twins biological sister, Childhood Trauma, Manipulation, Use of Y/n, Second Person Pov

The noise in the station rang loud in your ears. You followed the policeman through the noisy precinct into a quiet room in the back. A pout sat on your lips as you waited in the darkened lights in front of the big mirror. It wasn’t until a new man walked through the door you let up on the pout you were sending to your reflection.

You know the man. His name was Jim. You’d met him once, though you can’t remember when you remember why. Last time you saw the detective was when he sent you to live with your current “caretaker”. The best decision that was ever made for you was being placed into Naomi’s care. Although you were made aware later it was the kind doctor lady who told him it was the safest option. Lee, was her name if you remembered right. You never were told, however, what happened to your mother and brother.

Maybe that’s why they brought you back? You could finally see your brother again, then again they said he was in trouble so, maybe not… You don’t care much for your mom. She wasn’t around much and when she was she was always screaming. You doubt she’d change, ever.

“Y/n…” A voice pulls you out. Jim’s voice.

You hum in response. A smile grows at the recognition. Slightly proud of yourself for remembering so well. 

“Did anyone tell you why you’re here?” He asks while he sits down.

You shake your head in response.

“Do you, uh, remember who I am?” He asks nervously.

Why would that make him hesitate? Of course you remember. You're a big girl, you can do that much.

“Uh huh, I remember you.” You reply nodding enthusiastically. “Is the lady doctor still here too?” You ask kindly.

He raises his brows. “Lee?” You nod. “Yeah, she’s still here… You don’t watch the news do you, Y/n?”

“Nuh uh,” You answer. “Miss Naomi says I shouldn’t do that.”

“Right.” He smiles strangely before it falls again. “Have you seen Miss Naomi today?”

You tilt your head in confusion. Now that you think about it, you hadn’t seen her today. She went out for groceries and the next person you saw was the nice cop guy at the door. Was she okay? Did she get in trouble like Jerome did?

“Have you seen her?” Jim pushes again.

A pout grows on your lips again. “No, sir. Not after she left this morning…”

“Have you seen either of your brothers?” He asks suddenly.

Brothers? Brothers… Right… You have another brother too… What was his name? Your big brothers Jerome and, and, Jeremiah... He was always the calm one. Jerome made the jokes while Jeremiah patched you up. Jeremiah made puzzles and Jerome made the stages. Jeremiah was methodical and mean. Jerome was quick and cruel. 

But. You haven’t seen either in years. Miah, a lot longer than Romie. 

“Y/n. This is important. Have you seen or spoken to Jerome or Jeremiah?” Jim asks strictly.

“ ‘s been a really long time.” You whisper.

He stares. “How long?”

“Miah’s been gone a while when we still lived with momma… Haven’t seen Romie since he got in trouble… Are they okay?” Confusion and fear held clear on your face.

“They’re fine.” Jim says. He sounds angry. He looks at you for a moment. “I don’t think you’re safe.”

“Why not?” Your brows furrow.

“Your brothers are,” He hesitates, trying to find the words. “Dangerous.”

“Dangerous…” You drag on.

“I think they might hurt you.” He says.

“No they won’t.” You state, factually.

No, they protected you. They could get really angry, but they never hurt you, not like mom did. Break things, scream, but never hurt. Jeremiah patched you up so many times, and Jerome held you as you cried so many nights. Why did he think your older brothers would hurt you?

Before your conversation could continue the detective's phone rang. He left you with a simple command and a point of his finger. “Don’t move.”

So, you sat once again unmoving in the little, dimly lit room. You sat for a few moments before a visceral noise hit your ears. You hadn’t heard someone scream the way these people had since you were in the circus. What were they doing out there? You’d go look, but the detective seemed real serious about you not leaving.

So, you’ll wait. And wait. And wait. And, oh god, how long is this going to take? Isn't it enough they took you away from home, but now they’re gonna make you wait? You were going to surprise Naomi with your very own comic when she got home, and now the surprise isn’t going to be finished. She’s probably already seen it. Those big jerks. Except Jim, he at least came to talk to you for a little bit.

Oh well. These things never really go as planned. She’s gonna love it anyways, you’re sure of it.

It wasn’t much longer till you started “exploring” the small room. Your exploring mostly consisted of knocking on the mirror hoping for a response. One knock, nothing. Two knocks, nothing. A sigh, three knocks, nothing. It kinda reminded you of when mom would lock you out of the trailer at the circus.

Four knocks, a fun little pattern, and… Two knocks back. You didn’t mean to, but you jumped a bit at the response. Someone finally answered, you. You knock back with the other person's pattern. A giggle-like squeal escapes you when a very noisy pattern knocks back. This game is much more fun when someone responds! You try to recreate the pattern, but discover you don’t quite have enough hands.

“Well, I guess you beat me.” You smile at the glass.

The knocking stopped and you traveled back to the seat you were in before, and you continued waiting. 

Suddenly, you heard the pattern again, but this time it was from the door. You shot your head to the door. You thought about playing again, but what if it was Jim? What if it was a test like momma used to do? The ones where she’d wrap her hands around your neck when you failed. “Don’t knock on the doors, Y/n.” She’d tell you as you laid on the ground when she wasn’t angry anymore. When she wasn’t disappointed in you failing anymore.

You waited patiently, not really, for the door to peel open. When it finally did the door blocked the person in the doorway.

“Hello~” The man called out.

His voice was both gravely and high pitched. A part of you felt comforted by the sound. Another part felt frightened by his loud presence. Other noises could be heard from beyond the door. Screams and loud bangs surrounded the halls. It was discomforting and alluring…

When the man crept into the room finally you noticed how he bent his tall form down slightly. Like he was prepared for something bad. He didn’t look right at you as he was busy listening to the whispering voice still hiding behind the door frame. 

“Hi!” You called out wanting the man to face you. “I’m Y/n. What’s your name?” Smile on the edge of your seat.

It’s been a while since you’ve met someone new. Naomi always said it wasn’t a good idea for you.

When the ginger turned on his heel to face you, you saw his face light up. Such a familiar face…

“Hello, Doll~” He said with a grin.

His eyes were lit with mischief, with love, and something you just couldn’t understand. His face was scarred around the edges and around his eyes. His smile was permanent in the corners of his lips. He wore a tannish, yellow suit that had something red and sticky clinging to certain parts of the cloth.

His arms were out slightly like he was waiting for someone to throw themselves at him, which he wasn’t wrong, because the second you recognized him you were throwing yourselves into his arms.

A squeal left your lips. Was it really him? Your big brother was back. Was that why Jim brought you here? You couldn’t keep the smile from your lips. He smells like cookies and pennies. He’s so much different than you remember, but it was him. It was Jerome.

He picks you up and holds you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips and your arms around his neck.

“You came back!” You gleam.

“Ohoho! You thought you were rid of me for good huh? Well hate to break it to ya angel you’re stuck with me.” He says bouncing you lightly in his arms. Romie seems genuinely happy. It was so different than he used to be.

“So… You’re not in trouble anymore?” He’s back, so he’s not in time out anymore right?

He looks at you with a goofy face. Eyebrows down and a smile that mimicked a frown. 

“Is that where they said I was?” Jerome asks. A darker look crosses his face. You nod. “Well, I’ll tell you a secret.” He lowers his voice and it gets more gravely. “They’re liars. They took you from me and lied to keep us separated.” His voice filled with hate.

“Why- why would they do that?” You ask, slightly frightened by what your big brother’s telling you.

His eyes narrow to the side as a loud ringing goes off outside the room. “Well it’s because they’re big meanies, duhh.” He says it in a way that makes you giggle. “Now,” Jerome says, setting you on the ground. “Let’s ditch this joint.”

A hum left your mouth. “Where’re we goin?”

“Home,” He smiles. “Obviously.”

Everything else went by in a flash. The loud men and the banging of the metal toys. Your big brothers hand wrapped yours up as he pulled you away from the chaos. The car drove fast down the road and Jerome laughed so much you were scared he’d stop breathing.

Eventually things calmed down. Jerome answered every question you had, although every answer made you feel slightly uneasy. Not towards him, of course, no, towards all those cruel people who separated your little family.

The car ride reminded you a bit about being in the circus. The long drive where only Romie was there to talk to.

When the two of you, and whoever was driving the car, got to where you were going Jerome helped you out. Looking around you were surrounded by trees. It’s been a while since you’ve been in such a pretty place. The two of you entered this big grey structure and you held his hand as he led you down a very long set of stairs, ignoring the buzzing noise that happened when the door closed.

At the end of the stairs you’re met with a hall. After a few twists and turns you caught on.

“It’s a maze!” You say with a shout and a grin.

Your big brother jumps from your sudden loud noise after so many minutes of silence.

“Geez! Blow your big bros eardrums out why dontcha.” He says with a fake pout as he wiggles his ear. “And uh duh. You know how Miah is with all his puzzles.” He says holding on to the “s”.

Jeremiah’s here? You were gonna see him too?

Laughter filled your chest and you started to bounce slightly. This was so exciting.

“We’re gonna see Miah!” You laugh out in glee.

“Yeah, yeah don’t sound so happy bout it, will ya.” Jerome says, but there's a smile beneath the petty comment.

They always did jab at each other.

“Why’re we taking so long we gotta go!” You say pulling Romie further down the hall.

It took only a little longer after you started pushing your brother to move faster. The door felt important once you finally stood in front of it.

Your excitement died a bit in your throat. Your younger mind hadn’t had the chance to doubt whether or not Jerome wanted to see you. He just showed back up and loved you, but this wasn’t the same. You had those few minutes and now standing at the door you were doubting yourself.

What if he had forgotten you as much as you had him? What if he doesn’t wanna see you again? What if he hates you?

You hold onto Jerome's hand when he goes to open the door effectively stopping him. He gives a gruff hum as he looks at you like you had two heads.

“What if he doesn’t want me ‘round?” You pout frightfully.

He bursts into a shrill laughter. It lasted only a few seconds and you didn’t understand why he was laughing. “You two have a lot in common, dontcha?” He laughs. “Believe me, Doll, if he didn’t want you here I wouldn’t have brought you here.”

He was right. Jerome would never lie to you, right? So, everything’s going to be fine. Miah and you are gonna get along just like before. Maybe even better! You and Jerome already are.

The ginger opens the door and once again you're faced with your long lost brother. The man didn’t even look up from his detailed papers. Does he like doodling too? 

Jerome looked really different, but Jeremiah looked like a completely different person. His eyes were light green and held heavy focus. His skin was as white as the paper he held, and his dark green hair was combed back perfectly. He wore a purple suit, it was clean and pressed unlike Jerome’s that was now stained with dark red.

“I thought we agreed you would start knocking rather than just barging in.” His voice was smooth and monotone.

You wanted to jump at him. Hug him and not let go. You wanted to, but he sounded upset, annoyed.

“So sorry, your highness.” Jerome answered with a dramatic bow. “I thought you’d want to see what a cutie our little sister is.” This time he turns and pinches your cheeks causing you to squeak a bit.

The man straightened immediately. Did he forget Romie was bringing you home today?

When he turns to look at you his eyes lighten. He seems almost shocked or maybe relieved when he looks at you. It feels like he’s looking at something that you can’t see. You can’t help but shy away a bit from the solid stare.

It was like you both were assessing each other. Waiting and waiting for the next move. Jerome moved to another part of the large room, and you peel your eyes from Jeremiah to watch him throw himself onto a couch. 

Looking back you wave slightly. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He responds simply.

“Y’look different.” You say quietly.

His stoic face broke slightly as you see a smile break through and fall away again.

You shuffle your feet. You had no idea what to say or do next. Jerome was always so open you knew exactly what to do. Jeremiah was always a wall and you really just wanted to hug him.

He hums. “Come here.”

You shoot your head up and walk over. A smile cracks through his face again. You look up at him expectantly.

Jeremiah lays his hand on your cheek softly. “What’re you doing?” You ask in a whisper.

“You’ve changed quite a bit yourself since we’ve last seen each other. I suppose I am just memorizing you again.” He says as if he himself was unsure.

“Oh.” You nod and breathe deeply. “Can I hug you?” You say looking at the floor.

He laughs… He laughed! Your head shoots up to look at his face and you can’t help but stare. Even back at the circus Miah didn’t really laugh, but here he was, a smile on his face. It was over almost as soon as it started, but you were completely thrown off by it.

“Would you like that?” He asks with an odd smile.

You nod quickly.

Your big brother hums again. He steps closer before pulling you to his chest. You can’t help the excited giggle as you wrap your arms as far around him as you could. He smelt like mint and pine. Jeremiah's arms held you harder than you expected.

“I missed you.” You whisper with your face buried in his suit.

It was true you always felt like something was missing. You always felt empty. You knew you were different. Naomi and Lee told you so. You understood that most people wouldn’t understand your way of thinking. That’s why you always kept them in your heart, even if they weren’t on your mind.

It was true you’ve missed your big brothers so much.

“Of course you have.” Miah states factually.

“Of course she’s, what?” Romie calls from across the room.

You can feel the scoff that slips from Jeremiah’s lips and you giggle quietly to yourself. 

“You do not need to be involved in everything.” The ex-ginger claims.

“So mean~ brother. Wouldn’t want to give a little sis the wrong idea would you.” Your other brother dares as he walks closer to the two of you.

Jerome pulls you away from your other brother. Jeremiah just glares back. You whine and look up at him with a pout. 

Why would he do that? “Miah was warm…” You look at him doe eyed.

Romie screeches out a laugh. “Oh! You are just too cute!” He reaches out and squishes your face in his hands. “Isn’t she just adorable?” Romie says and holds you out to Miah.

“Shut up.” The other practically hisses. “Come here.” He says looking at you.

“Nope!” Jerome says, pulling you back into him instead. “All mine~” He grins.

“Romie, that's not fair!” You giggle out.

“And incredibly childish.” Jeremiah continues, grabbing your arm and lifting you into his own.

Jeremiah rests you on his hip. You can’t help but smile at the proximity. Your hands traced his suit, and you listen to the back and forth between the twins. Eventually the three of you moved to that couch in the corner of the room. The conversation bloomed and it was like you’d never been apart before.

It feels strange being here. It’s like a balloon full of confetti was being held over your head; you had no idea when it was going to pop or why it was even there. It was exciting and scary, yet you never felt more safe than you did tightly in the grasp of your big brothers.

If only you knew the truth…

Naomi’s body limp and unmoving a few rooms over. The cops that are mourning their colleagues. Jim is searching the cameras wondering why you would leave so willingly, did you really not know what they’ve done?

Of course Jerome and Jeremiah were in the best mood they’ve been in since teaming up. Their perfect little sister back in their grasp again. So many years without that perfect little mediator. A perfect buffer. The perfect balance for their chaos and gore was your sweetness and innocence. What a perfect scene it was; even if they wanted to tear each other apart they finally had you, their little sister.

[web-novel-polls]

Have You Read This Web Novel?

Kim Dokja does not consider himself the protagonist of his own life. Befitting the name his parents gave him, he is a solitary person whose sole hobby is reading web novels. For over a decade, he has lived vicariously through Yu Junghyeok, the main character of the web novel Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse (TWSA). Through Junghyeok, Dokja has experienced secondhand the trials of repeatedly regressing in time, in search of an end to life-threatening “scenarios” that force people to act out narratives for the amusement of god-like “Constellations.” After reading 3,149 chapters—long after all other readers lost interest—Dokja finally resigns himself to the story ending. However, he receives an enigmatic message from the author, stating that the story will soon be monetized, before his surroundings suddenly go dark. He swiftly realizes that fiction has become reality and he is now living through TWSA. Although he is the singular omniscient reader of the events yet to come, his success in the scenarios is not guaranteed—but perhaps his advantage will empower him to step into the protagonist role that never suited him before. - Novel Updates

If you’re in the process of reading this web novel, please choose whichever option best fits your situation. You do not have to be completely finished with it to answer “yes.”

[gloomysoup]

thank god for robin buckley

@steddiebingo christmas prompt: cock block

rating: explicit | word count: 2512 | tags: omegaverse, edging, fingering, fluff, platonic stobin | ao3

Steve was going to die. He was absolutely certain of it. He had not gotten laid in weeks, and he was so keyed up. He would even be satisfied with a quick fingering in the bathroom as if they were horny teenagers sneaking around again.

It was nearly impossible for any of that to occur with four small children that rely on them for everything.

Before, they learned how to be quiet. They could get in some quick alone time often enough to keep them both satisfied, most often at night when the pups were tucked into bed. Lately, however, this has not worked.

Let it be said that Steve loves his pups, more than anything in the world. He would never ever trade them for anything. But.

Lucy refuses to sleep in her crib. She absolutely must be attached to someone, usually Steve, in order to sleep. Plus, she's been teething so much that it's been nearly impossible to soothe her. Violet has been going through another sleep regression, which means unfortunately, Addie isn't sleeping either. So far, James is the only one still sleeping through the night, but Steve isn't holding his breath. At this rate, he figures it's only a matter of time before James joins his sisters in not sleeping. During the day, when the older girls are at school, Eddie is working.

Things have not worked out for Steve very well lately.

-

It's the weekend. Eddie is off work, and Steve is determined. He gets James to lay down for a nap, which he may or may not take. Addie and Violet are playing in their room, and Lucy is in her swing in the nursery. Steve knows they don't have much time before Lucy realizes she's alone and starts screaming again. Eddie is in the kitchen, humming to himself as he washes up the lunch dishes.

Steve grabs his hand and tugs him to the bedroom. Eddie watches with an amused smile on his face, willingly at Steve’s mercy. Their kisses get hot and heavy quick, Eddie’s hand already dipping below Steve’s waistband.

And then Violet is screaming bloody murder two rooms away, crying for Eddie like she's dying.

Eddie kisses him quickly, already moving away from Steve. “I'll be right back,” he promises.

Steve groans as Eddie leaves the bed and slips out the door. By the time he comes back from diffusing the situation, caused by a toy, Lucy is crying. The moment is gone. They've lost their chance.

-

All of the pups are finally asleep in their own beds. For the first time in months, Lucy stayed asleep when Steve put her in the crib. They finally get some alone time.

Eddie’s hands are gentle against his skin as they slip under his shirt; their kisses are soft, but filled with intent. They're pressed together until they are nearly one unit. Steve is finally going to get what he needs.

And then some asshole nearby sets off fireworks.

It takes no time for Lucy’s cries to come through the baby monitor, and then their door opens to Addie and Violet asking to sleep with them, tears in their eyes. Steve sighs as he throws the covers back and gets out of bed to get Lucy. He checks on James on his way back, who is still sleeping like a rock. He even has to stop to make sure he's still actually breathing, which he is.

When he gets back to the bedroom, Lucy in his arms, Eddie is already curled up with the girls. He looks at Steve over two heads of curly hair as he climbs back under the covers and gets comfortable. “James?”

Steve huffs a soft laugh. “Sleeping like a rock. I swear, that kid sleeps through anything.”

Eddie smiles and shuffles closer, squishing the girls tightly between them. Addie giggles quietly from where her face is in Eddie’s shirt, wiggling for a moment before getting comfortable and settling again. “I'm sorry we didn't get to finish what we started,” he said softly, eyes still on Steve despite the curls that are practically up his nose from the pup against him. “I know we’ve been trying to get some time to ourselves for a while, and it just doesn't work out.”

Steve sighed, tucking Lucy close to his chest and brushing his hand over the curls on Violet’s head. “It's okay. Our pups need us more.”

“Doesn't mean you can't be upset, baby.”

Steve shook his head quickly. “I'm not upset, though. Frustrated, maybe, but… we're parents.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes our own wants have to take a backseat, and that's okay. I wouldn't trade this life for anything.”

Eddie smiled again, reaching for Steve’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I promise I'll find a way to make it up to you, though. Eventually.”

Steve smiled back, lacing their fingers together. “I know you will.”

-

The next time they finally get an opportunity to be alone, it's a bright Sunday morning. Lucy was down for her morning nap, and the three older kids are occupied by a movie in the living room. Steve and Eddie knew they had at least half an hour before one of them got bored. They knew it would have to be quick and quiet, which they had basically mastered by the time Violet was six months old. They certainly enjoyed taking their time more, but they didn't get many opportunities once their family really started growing.

The baby monitor was on the dresser, the kids were occupied, the door was locked. Everything was perfect. Eddie’s lips were on Steve’s neck, nipping gently as he breathed in his scent right from the source. They'd spent a good five minutes just making out like they were kids again, which is probably five minutes longer than they should've, but they just couldn't help themselves. Steve’s hair was fanned out on the bedspread, slightly messy from Eddie’s hands raking through it and the occasional tug. Eddie’s lips trailed to his chest, so careful where he knew Steve was most sensitive. His hand slipped under Steve’s shorts, teasing exactly where he knew Steve wanted him. He didn't tease for long, though. He knew they were short on time.

He slowly pressed his finger up inside, swallowing Steve’s shuddering gasp with a sharp kiss. He started slow; they hadn't done anything in a while. He didn't want to hurt him. He was just beginning to press a second finger, so slow and careful with his eyes on Steve for any sign of discomfort.

Then the front door opened.

“Poppy!” all three pups exclaimed from the living room. There was the sound of clambering pups and Wayne’s laughter.

Steve whined, high in his throat, as Eddie removed his hand. Eddie pressed kisses to his neck, mating gland, cheeks, and lips in quick succession.

“‘m sorry, baby,” he whispered with a very apologetic look before standing up and trying to straighten himself out. Steve didn't move for several moments. Not until he heard Wayne asking the pups where they were. Then he sighed, pulled himself from the bed, and tried to look presentable before they slipped down the hallway to the living room.

Wayne was bent down on one knee, James in his arms and Violet clambering up onto his back. The pair stepped into the room, really hoping it didn't look like they had been in the middle of something. They both knew Wayne had seen more than his fair share of the two of them in compromising positions.

When Wayne stood up and saw them, he took in their appearances and merely raised an eyebrow. Yeah… Steve should've seen that coming. Wayne always knows.

“You two busy?” he asked, still giving them head to toe looks.

Eddie cleared his throat and smiled. “Can always make time for you, old man.”

“Mhm.” Wayne gave them a very knowing, slightly judgy look.

“So, what're you doing in town for, Wayne?” Steve asked as nonchalantly as he could manage. “You didn't have to make the drive, y’know.”

Wayne shrugged, adjusting his hold on James. “Had a few vacation days needed usin’ up. Figured I'd come up and see the pups for a bit. I can go back, though. Get outta y'all's hair if ya got plans.”

“‘Course not, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said. “We’d love to have you. Wouldn't we, sweetheart?”

Steve smiled. “Absolutely. You're always welcome here, Wayne.”

Part of Steve thought that maybe, just maybe, having Wayne over meant he and Eddie could get even a smidgen of alone time. That was not the case, however. Despite Wayne doing what he could to help out with the pups, Violet had been acting particularly clingy lately. She had always been a very clingy baby, always wanting to be with Steve or Eddie, and she did good with the separation stuff for a little while when James was born. It helped that she shared a room with Addie, and that had really been their intention with putting the two girls together anyway.

For some reason, though, it was back like a vengeance. She spent almost every night in their bed. And while Steve would never even dream of giving up this time with his pup while she still offered it, it had made spending any time with Eddie pretty much impossible.

-

Of course, it's Robin that finally comes to his rescue.

She's hanging out while Steve folds laundry on a Saturday morning. Addie and Violet were playing in their room, James was sitting on the living room floor playing with some cars, and Eddie had taken Lucy to the store with him to go grocery shopping. Robin watched with a raised brow as Steve folded clothes in what he thought was a perfectly normal way, but apparently not to Robin.

He huffed a little as he stuck the folded clothes into the basket, organized by room, and Robin pursed her lips.

“What?” Steve asked, voice maybe a little more tense than it needed to be.

“Just wondering what the fuck you're problem is,” Robin responded. “You're real tense, babe.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I wouldn't be so tense if I could actually get laid.”

Robin’s eyebrows shot up. “You haven't gotten laid recently? Well, that explains the attitude. How long has it been?”

Steve huffed. “Like, almost three months, Rob.”

“You're joking.”

“Wish I was.” Steve groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “No matter what I do, it just never happens. And trust me, we've tried. One time, we even got so far as his fingers inside of me, and then Wayne showed up. And of course, it's Wayne, so he immediately knew what was going on. I absolutely could not do anything while he was here, though, because, like, that's basically my dad, and he's put up with enough of our shit. Plus, you know how clingy Violet has been lately. Every single time we think we're finally gonna be able to have sex, something happens and the moment is gone. I am suffering, Robs, and Eddie has been so fucking sweet about it, because he knows I'm- I'm all pent up. He has done everything he can, but it never works out how we want it to.”

Robin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That is not gonna fly.” Robin was standing up and leaving the room before Steve even knew what was happening. “Come on, Jamie, let's go get dressed. Auntie Robin’s got some fun plans today,” he heard her say before moving down the hallway to the bedrooms. He heard James get up to follow her.

God bless Robin Buckley.

By the time Eddie got home, the rest of the pups were dressed and ready to go. Eddie frowned as Lucy was immediately scooped from his arms and taken back outside.

“Hurry up and unload the groceries so I can steal your children,” Robin said as she moved past him.

“What-”

“No questions!”

Eddie shook his head and looked at Steve, who merely smiled and went outside to bring in the groceries. Once everything was inside, and all the pups were safely buckled up into the car, Robin was gone with nothing more than a, “Have fun getting railed!” yelled out the window.

Steve and Eddie were finally alone.

Despite how much he immediately wanted to pounce on Eddie, he knew they had to get the groceries put away first. As they moved around the kitchen, Eddie hummed softly.

“What's Robin’s deal?” he asked just as he was sliding the last box of cereal into the cabinet. “She just up and stole our children.”

“They'll be back later,” Steve said softly, reaching for Eddie’s hand and leading him out of the kitchen. “She just thought we could use some… alone time.”

Eddie smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Alone time, huh?” Steve nodded, dragging Eddie closer and closer to their bedroom. “And what're we gonna do with all this alone time?”

Steve smiled as they crossed the threshold into their bedroom, hand already sliding down to unbutton his own jeans. “I can think of a few things to fill the time.”

Steve and Eddie curled up in their bed, naked and sweaty, but happy. Steve’s head rested on Eddie’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall with his breathing. Eddie’s fingers trailed up and down Steve’s back, his nose buried in his hair. They'd have to get up soon to shower and put on some clothes. Their pups would be home soon, and it would be back to business as usual for the Munson household.

But there was still a little bit of time.

“I love you,” Steve whispered, closing his eyes for a moment and letting himself take everything in.

“I love you more,” Eddie replied, just as quiet. “I'm sorry I haven't made more time for you lately.”

Steve shook his head. “It's okay. Our lives are busy. It happens, and it’s not your fault.”

“Still. You deserve better.”

Steve shifted a little in Eddie’s hold, tilting his head so he was buried in Eddie’s neck instead. “I have everything I could ever want and more, thanks to you. We've got four beautiful pups, and our friends, and our life. You work so hard to provide for us, Eddie, so that I can have the absolute privilege of staying home with our babies all day. You didn't have to do all that, but you did. Do I wish I could have sex with my amazing husband more often than we do? Absolutely. But it's not like I'm completely unsatisfied with our life. I love our life, Eddie, even if we do get a little too busy to have time to ourselves sometimes.”

He could feel Eddie’s smile as he kissed his forehead, tightening his arms around him for a moment. “You are truly amazing, my love,” he murmured. “Thank god for Robin Buckley, though.”

Steve chuckled, nuzzling into the side of Eddie’s throat to take in his scent.

“Thank god for Robin Buckley.”

[sweetlittlehoneybun]

Stress + Zoro = little moss head

Zoro gets super stressed and ends up hiding up in the crow's nest of the thousand sunny as he regresses to the age of a toddler to relieve stress. However, he didn't tell the crew about it as Sanji finds him crying leaving Sanji super confused.

Zoro, the 3 sword-style swordsman, stood at the bow of the Thousand Sunny, the cool ocean breeze ruffling his green hair as he stared out at the endless horizon. The ship sailed smoothly on the calm sea, the sails full of wind. It was a rare moment of peace for the Straw Hat Pirates. However, Zoro's mind was anything but calm. The weight of recent battles and the ever-growing list of challenges ahead pressed on him like a heavy iron anchor, each thought a new link in a chain that threatened to drag him under. His brow furrowed, his eyes tightened, and his teeth clenched.

Without a word, Zoro abruptly turned and sprinted to the base of the main mast. He took to the steel ladder in a swift, practiced motion, climbing higher and higher until he reached the crow's nest. The wooden planks creaked under his feet as he settled into his safe haven, his usual stoic expression replaced by one of intense contemplation. The crew below, accustomed to Zoro's sudden spikes of stress, gave him space, knowing he needed to be alone.

Zoro, overwhelmed by stress, silently climbed to the crow's nest of the Thousand Sunny for solace. The crew, used to his stressful episodes(most of the time he just exercises), allowed him his space, unaware that his mental state had regressed to that of a toddler's.

In the quiet solitude of the crow's nest, Zoro felt his thoughts become a whirlwind of childish fears and worries. As he tries to workout, silently hoping that exercising will silence his fuzzy brain. His grip tightened around one of his dumbells as the ship swayed gently, his eye widens as he began to tear up. The stress of the past battles, the pressure of his role as the crew's protector, and the looming shadow of the New World overwhelmed him. In his heart, he was no longer the strong swordsman that the crew relied on, but a scared, overwhelmed child seeking refuge from the world.

Meanwhile, Sanji, the ship's chef, noticed Zoro's erratic behavior from below. Sanji's instincts told him that something was wrong, but he couldn't resist the urge to test Zoro's limits. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he began to climb the ropes to the crow's nest, he feels a burn in his legs, you could tellthathe was itching for a fight. His mind raced with the thrill of an impending confrontation.

As he approached the crow's nest, he could hear faint sniffles and the sound of someone trying to stifle their sobs. Pausing in his climb, Sanji's confusion grew. Zoro, the epitome of stoicism, crying? It was unheard of. But his curiosity and concern outweighed his initial amusement, and he quickened his pace.

Finally reaching the top, Sanji poked his head over the edge, only to find Zoro sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, with tears streaming down his face. The swordsman looked up, his eye red and puffy, and immediately tried to hide his face, but it was too late. Sanji's expression shifted from one of battle-ready excitement to utter bewilderment.

"What's going on, Zoro?" Sanji asked, his voice gentle. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Zoro looked up with a wet, pleading eye. "anji, go 'way," he sniffled, his voice unusually high-pitched and childlike as he also struggled to say Sanji's name right. Zoro holding himself in a hug like fashion.

Sanji's brows shot up in surprise. "What's wrong, Zoro?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. He had never seen the swordsman in such a state. He stepped into the crow's nest, his boots making a soft thud on the planks.

"I said go 'way," Zoro repeated, his voice still high-pitched and trembling. He scooted back, trying to put as much space between them as possible in the small space. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and he buried his face in his arms.

Sanji's eyes widened, and he took a step back, holding up his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Zoro. I didn't mean to scare you." He tried to keep his tone light, but the sight of his usually fearless crewmate in such distress was unsettling.

Tentatively, Sanji sat down a few feet away, his eyes never leaving Zoro's huddled form. He studied the swordsman, noticing the way his shoulders heaved with each sob and his fingers gripped his arms with a strength that belied his size and would most definitely bruise. It was clear that this was not a simple case of nerves or exhaustion. Something deeper was troubling Zoro, something that had stripped him of his usual stoic facade.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the rhythmic creaks of the ship and the distant calls of seagulls. Sanji waited patiently, knowing that pushing Zoro would only make things worse. Finally, the swordsman looked up, his eye brimming with unshed tears. "S-anji... I-I don't know what's happening to me," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"It's okay," Sanji assured him, his voice soothing. "Just take a deep breath and tell me what's going on."

Zoro sniffled and took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looked at Sanji with the wide eye of a lost child. "Everyfing's just... too much," he murmured, his voice still high and trembling. "The fighting, danger, pressure... I just want to be safe agains, like when I was little."

Sanji's heart went out to his friend. He had never seen Zoro so vulnerable. "You don't have to be strong all the time," he said softly, reaching out a hand to pat Zoro's back awkwardly. "We're all here for you."

But Zoro just shook his head, his grip on the himself tightening. "No, no, no," he repeated, his voice growing more insistent. "I need to be strong, for the crew, for Luffy. I can't be a burden."

Sanji sighed, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "You're not a burden, Zoro," he said firmly. "We're all in this together, and sometimes, it's okay to lean on your friends."

Zoro looked up at him, his eye filled with a mix of frustration and gratitude. He knew Sanji was right, but the thought of admitting his fears to the rest of the crew was unbearable. "They'lls laughs ats me," he whispered, his bottom lip quivering. "Theys won't take mes ss-ser-eriously anymore." Zoro says struggling with the word seriously.

Sanji frowned, his eyes searching Zoro's. "They're not like that," he said. "They'll understand."

But Zoro was lost in his own world of doubt. His mind was a tumultuous sea of fear and inadequacy, the words of his comrades just distant whispers on the wind. The stress had taken its toll, and his thoughts had regressed to a time when the world was simpler, when the biggest challenge was climbing a tree or catching a fish. He wished he could be that carefree again, if only for a little while, but he had to protect the crew.

Sanji watched as Zoro's body remained taut and tense, despite the childlike whimpers that escaped him. It was a surreal sight, one that made the cook's heart ache for his friend. He knew Zoro was struggling to reconcile his adult responsibilities with the desperate need to be comforted like a little kid.

"You know," Sanji began, his voice gentle, "sometimes, even the strongest people need a break." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "When I'm stressed, I just think of the warmth of freshly baked bread or the taste of a perfect steak. It helps me feel a bit more... grounded."

Zoro looked at him with a mix of wonder and despair. "Dat's your way," he said, his voice still high-pitched. "But why dos I have to be like this?" He gestured to himself with a trembling hand. "Why can't I just... I don'ts know, punch somefing or yell and feel better?"

Sanji nodded, his eyes never leaving Zoro's. "Everyone has their own way of coping," he said, his voice gentle. "And maybe, just maybe, your mind is telling you that you need a different kind of comfort."

Zoro wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his eye never leaving Sanji's face. "But why a toddler's?" Zoro whined, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why do I want to cuddle up in a blanket and hold onto a dumb stuffy?"

Sanji chuckled, his expression warm and understanding. "You know, everyone has their quirks," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Zoro looked at him skeptically, his eye still filled with the pain of his inner turmoil. "But why a toddler's?" he repeated, his voice small and lost. "I'm a swordsman, nots a baby."

Sanji gave a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, Zoro, sometimes our minds are like an animal," he said, leaning in slightly. "You've got all these claws, all this strength, but even the toughest animal has a weak spot."

Zoro looked at him, his expression unchanged, but the tightness around his eye eased a fraction.

"But... buts everyone will fink I's gone soft," he said, his voice still high and trembling. "They'll fink I can't handle being a pirate no more."

Sanji leaned back, folding his arms. "You think Luffy's got it easy because he's carefree?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "Or Usopp, because he runs away from fights?"

Zoro considered this, his brow furrowed. "But they're not likes me," he murmured.

Sanji shrugged. "Luffy finds strength in his childlike wonder, and Usopp in his vivid imagination. Maybe this is just your way of dealing with things, Zoro."

Zoro pondered Sanji's words, his thumb knuckle finding its way to his lips as his mind continued to regress. The gesture was involuntary, a habit from a time when the world was less demanding, and fears could be soothed with the simple comfort of sucking his thumb. The feeling was strange yet oddly comforting. He felt his shoulders relax, and his breathing even out as the stress started to wash away, replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling in his head.

Sanji noticed the change in Zoro's posture and watched with a mix of concern and curiosity as the swordsman's features softened. He could see the cogs turning in Zoro's head as he grappled with the idea that it was okay to seek solace in his childish ways, even if only for a brief escape. The silence between them grew thick, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle from Zoro.

Finally, the swordsman spoke again, his voice still small and tremulous. "anji, promise me you won't tell the others."

Sanji nodded solemnly. "Your secret's safe with me," he assured, his voice low and soothing. "Now, let's get you a nice, warm blanket and something to eat. That always helps me feel better."

Zoro nodded, his thoughts drifting to the idea of a plushie, something soft and comforting to cling to. He remembered the small, one-eyed bear he had as a child, how it had been his constant companion during thunderstorms and nights when the darkness felt too vast. His eye searched the crow's nest, longing for something similar to provide him the comfort he desperately needed.

Sanji watched as Zoro's thoughts seemed to drift away, his eye misting over with longing. The cook couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for his friend. He knew that in their line of work, it was easy to lose sight of the simpler things that brought happiness. The thought of Zoro craving something as innocent as a plush toy was both endearing and heartbreaking.

Zoro's whines grew softer as he remembered the plush bear he had lost long ago. It had been with him through countless nights, the silent guardian that had seen him through his early days as a pirate hunter. He missed the comfort it had provided, the way it had made the vast, unpredictable world feel just a bit less big and less frightening.

His thoughts grew fuzzy, and he found himself wishing for a similar object to cling to. A soft plushie, or a soft blanket, something that could absorb his fears and soothe his frayed nerves. He pictured himself hugging it tightly, his face buried in its fur, feeling the warmth and safety that had been missing for so long.

The memory of his childhood plushie grew more vivid in his mind, the feel of its worn fabric under his tiny fingers, the smell of home that lingered on it despite the years of travel. Zoro felt a pang in his chest, a yearning for that innocent time when battles were just imaginary and friends were never in danger. His eye searched the crow's nest again, desperately seeking something to fill that void.

Finding nothing, Zoro's frustration grew, his toddler mind unable to reconcile the lack of a familiar comfort object. He let out a wail, his fists pounding against the wooden railing. "I want my teddy!" he sobbed, his voice cracking as he dropped the dumbbell he had been gripping and his arms flew up furiously trying to wipe the tears running down his face. The sound of his distress echoed through the ship, reaching the ears of the confused and concerned crew below.

Sanji's eyes widened in surprise at Zoro's sudden outburst, but he remained calm, his hand still resting comfortingly on Zoro's back. "It's okay, Zoro," he murmured, trying to soothe the distressed swordsman. "We'll find something to help you feel better."

But Zoro was beyond consolation. His frustration boiled over into a full-blown tantrum. He kicked his legs out, his feet thumping against the planks of the crow's nest. "No, no, no!" he wailed, his voice reaching a pitch that would put a banshee to shame. "I want my teddy now!"

Sanji's eyes darted around, searching for anything that could serve as a makeshift plushie. Spotting a rolled-up shirt in the corner, he grabbed it and held it out to Zoro. "Here," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "This can be your teddy for now."

Zoro's eye lit up for a moment, but as soon as the fabric of the t-shirt brushed against his skin, his expression crumpled into one of discomfort. "It's scratchy!" he wailed, his voice piercing the air. The realization that his own clothes were also scratchy only added to his distress, and his screaming grew louder, his sobs more intense.

Sanji winced at the sound, his hand hovering over Zoro's shoulder, unsure of what to do next. He had never seen his friend in such a state, and the sight was both heart-wrenching and alarming. The crew below grew more concerned, exchanging confused glances as the swordsman's cries echoed through the ship.

With a sudden idea, Sanji turned to the supplies in the crow's nest, searching for something that might resemble a plush toy. His eyes fell on a rolled-up piece of cloth, likely used to protect the ship's lookout equipment. He unfurled it, revealing a soft, red material that looked surprisingly snuggle-worthy. He approached Zoro cautiously, holding out the cloth with both hands like an offering.

"Here, Zoro," he said softly, "This could be your temporary teddy."

But Zoro was lost in his tantrum, his cries piercing the calm of the sea. He pushed Sanji's hand away, his face a mask of despair. "No, no, no!" he screamed, his voice raw with emotion. "It not same!"

The chef looked on, his heart in his throat. He had never seen the swordsman so vulnerable, so utterly lost. The usually stoic Zoro was now a tempest of toddler emotions, inconsolable in his distress. Sanji's mind raced for a solution, desperate to provide his friend with the comfort he so clearly needed.

In the midst of Zoro's wails, a new sound reached their ears. It was the thump of hooves on the mast, growing louder with every passing second. Sanji's eyes widened as he recognized the source of the commotion. "Chopper," he murmured, a mix of hope and trepidation coloring his voice.

Chopper, the ship's doctor and a reindeer-human hybrid, poked his head into the crow's nest, his expression one of bewilderment. His eyes grew wide when he saw Zoro's state, his antlered head tilting to the side as he took in the scene before him. "Sanji? What's wrong, Zoro?" he asked, his voice filled with concern and worry.

Sanji saw his opportunity and took it. He swiftly scooped Chopper into his arms, despite the latter's protests. "Hold still, you," he murmured, his movements surprisingly gentle given his usual exasperation with the doctor's antics. "You're going to be Zoro's teddy for now."

Chopper squirmed in his grasp, his eyes wide with shock. "Sanji!, what are you doing!?" he squeaked, his voice high with confusion and a hint of fear.

Ignoring the doctor's protests, Sanji held Chopper out to Zoro, who had stopped crying to stare at the bizarre sight before him. "Here," Sanji said with a hopeful smile, "Chopper can be your teddy for now. He's soft and warm, just like the one you used to have."

Zoro's eye lit up with hope, and he reached out tentatively to touch the reindeer's fur. Chopper, still bewildered, allowed Zoro to clutch onto him tightly, his eyes wide with shock. The sudden weight of the swordsman's burly arms was a surprise, but he remained still, sensing the gravity of the situation.

As Zoro buried his face in Chopper's soft fur, his body began to relax. The warmth of the reindeer's body and the comforting texture of his fur calmed the swordsman down a bit. The sobs grew quieter. His breathing evened out, and his body melted into the embrace.

Chopper, still in shock, patted Zoro's back gently, his own heart racing. He had never seen the swordsman so distraught and didn't know how to handle it. But as he felt the tension seep out of the pirate's muscles, he realized that perhaps Sanji's strange solution had worked.

The crow's nest grew quiet, save for the sound of Zoro's muffled sniffles and the occasional squeak from Chopper as he tried to adjust to his new role. The doctor's mind raced, trying to understand what was happening, but he knew better than to disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the swordsman.

As Zoro's cries grew softer, he felt his eyelid droop and a yawn slip through his mouth. His eye grew heavy with the weight of exhaustion and the gentle swaying of the ship. He leaned into Chopper, his body feeling boneless with relief. The reindeer's soft fur was surprisingly comforting against his cheek, and the steady beating of the doctor's heart beneath his ear was a lullaby that promised safety.

Sanji watched as Zoro's breathing grew even, his eyes closing as he drifted into a peaceful slumber. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his tough comrade holding onto Chopper like a cherished plushie. It was strange, but seeing Zoro find solace in something so innocent was oddly endearing.

Chopper, now accustomed to his role, allowed Zoro to use him as a pillow. He could feel the swordsman's thumb knuckle making its way into his mouth, and his eyes grew wide with surprise. He'd heard of thumb-sucking as a childhood comfort, but he had never seen it in action, especially not from someone as formidable as Zoro.

The sound of Zoro's gentle snores filled the crow's nest, a stark contrast to the fierce battles he usually dominated. The blue-nosed reindeer looked to Sanji for guidance, his gaze questioning. Sanji just shrugged and chuckled, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Let him be," he whispered. "We all need our comforts."

Chopper nodded, his concern for Zoro outweighing his own discomfort. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, feeling the warmth of the swordsman's body seep into his own. The sea breeze picked up, sending a shiver through him. Sanji noticed and pulled out an extra blanket from the supplies, carefully tucking it around them both. "You two take it easy up here," he said, his voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping pirate.

Sanji descended the ladder, his mind racing with the events of the last few minutes. He knew the commotion had to have alerted the rest of the crew, and they would be worried about what had happened to their comrade. As he reached the deck, he found the Straw Hats gathered in a concerned huddle, their eyes on the crow's nest.

Luffy looked up as Sanji approached, his eyebrow raised in question. "What's wrong with Zoro?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. Sanji took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the bizarre situation without causing unnecessary alarm.

"He's just... having a rough time," Sanji replied, his voice carefully measured. "I think the stress is really getting to him." The rest of the crew exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and worry. They had all seen Zoro stressed before, but never like this.

Luffy's eyes widened in concern. "Is he okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a rare seriousness.

Sanji nodded. "For now, he's just... sleeping," he said, trying to keep his tone casual. "But we should keep an eye on him. Make sure he gets plenty of rest and doesn't push himself too hard."

The crew murmured in agreement, their faces a mirror of worry. Sanji knew he had to be the one to explain, to prepare them for the changes in Zoro's behavior. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come.

"Look, guys," Sanji began, his tone serious. "Zoro's been dealing with a lot of pressure lately, and I think he's just reached his breaking point." The pirates looked at each other, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. "He's been bottling up his stress, trying to be the stoic swordsman we all know and depend on. If he wakes up he might be a bit different than the swordsman's were use to "

Nami stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'different'?" she asked, her voice tinged with skepticism. Sanji rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, it seems like... Zoro's mental state has kind of, uh, regressed," Sanji stuttered, searching for the right words. "He's acting like a... a toddler right now."

The Straw Hats gaped at him, their eyes wide with astonishment. Luffy's hat tilts back, revealing his puzzled expression. "What do you mean, Sanji?"

Sanji sighs, running a hand through his hair. "He's... not quite himself," he says, his eyes darting to the crow's nest above. "His mind's kind of gone back to when he was a little kid."

The Straw Hats stare at him, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Usopp's hand shoots up. "You mean like, he's going to start playing with toys and asking for bedtime stories?"

Sanji nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. However I'm not completely sure."

The crew exchanges skeptical glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. "But why?" Usopp asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. "Is he okay?"

Sanji nods firmly. "He's okay," he reassures them. "It's just his way of dealing with stress." He pauses, weighing his words carefully. "You know how Luffy gets all excited and hyper? Or how you get all scared and imagine things?"

The crew nods, understanding the varying ways each of them dealt with their own stress.

"So what do we do?" Nami asks, her eyes never leaving the crow's nest.

Sanji scratches his head, his mind racing. "For now, let him rest," he says finally. "We'll see how he is when he wakes up. Maybe it's just a one time thing."

The girls exchange a look, nodding in understanding. "I've got some plushies in my room," Robin offers, her voice gentle. "I'm sure he can borrow one if it'll help."

Nami nods in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "I'll grab some of my stuff too," she says, already turning to head below deck. "Maybe something from my childhood will work."

Usopp looks at Sanji, his face a mask of confusion. "But, what if he wakes up and starts crying again?" he asks, his voice quivering slightly.

Sanji nods, his eyes serious. "Chopper's with him," he says, his voice firm. "If Zoro needs anything, Chopper will be there."

Luffy, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, suddenly bursts out in laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Haha, Zoro's finally cracked!" he says, a wide grin spreading across his face. "It's about time he deals with all that stress he's been hoarding!"

The crew looks at their captain, a mix of shock and concern etched on their faces. Sanji sighs, knowing that Luffy's innocence sometimes leads to insensitivity. "Luffy, it's not something to laugh about," he says, his voice a gentle reprimand. "Zoro's going through a tough time."

But Luffy's grin doesn't waver. "I know, I know," he says, his eyes sparkling. "But think about it! Zoro's usually so serious and tense. Now we can finally play together!" He claps his hands together, his enthusiasm infectious. "Maybe we can have a game tag, ooooooo I can teach him some of my cool moves!"

Sanji sighs, knowing that Luffy's intentions are pure. "Keep it down," he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite the situation's gravity. "We don't want to disturb him."

Luffy nods, his excitement momentarily dampened. The crew stands in silence for a moment, the only sound being the gentle slap of waves against the Thousand Sunny's hull. They all knew Zoro well enough to understand that his stoic exterior was a shield, one that had clearly been breached by the weight of their pirate life's stresses.

Nami breaks the silence, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "You know, it's kind of refreshing to know that even Zoro can't handle everything all the time," she says, a smirk playing on her lips. The tension in the air lightens, and the others chuckle in agreement. It was true; the swordsman's unshakeable demeanor had always made them wonder if he ever felt fear or doubt.

Robin nods thoughtfully. "Perhaps this is his way of letting us in, of showing us that he's not invincible," she says, her voice soft. The crew exchanges knowing looks. They had all seen the weight Zoro carried, the silent burden of being the crew's protector and Luffy's right-hand man.