#like actually see in all it’s brutality

[informaturge]

1 - Keziah had a pretty good idea of which way the wind was blowing the moment Bellara popped out of the bushes with the big eyes and the magitech gauntlet and the absent-minded smart girl vibes. I imagine a silent "oh god dammit" in her head.

2- I have no idea. I am not privy to the inner workings of her mind. Keziah remains mind-boggled that it happened at all.

3 - I think that up until the whole "Rook is trapped in a ghost prison" thing there was a mutual "I like you but we don't have time for this right now" thing going on, but afterward it flipped to "on second thought we might not have time for this later".

4 - Keziah is Mourn Watch. Bellara is a Veil Jumper. They both dig up ancient hazards and put a stop to them. The only real difference is whose closet the skeletons are pouring out of. And how literal the skeletons are.

5 - I mean technically they're both elves, but Bellara is more aware and immersed in elf... stuff, whereas Keziah was basically raised to be a self-aiming gun by ghosts and gravedigger priests. I think they find each other's accumulated knowledge and experiences fascinating.

6 - Something the two of them have in common is a love of learning stuff. I think a lot of their relationship revolves around sharing hyperfixations. Does Keziah know what a manalytic converter is for? No. But Bellara does, and as such it's obviously important, so if she sees one she'll be sure to point it out. Is Bellara wary of Keziah's extensive collection of weird bones and scarification implements? I mean, a bit, but only because some of them are very delicate and others are very sharp. Doesn't mean that they don't talk for hours about the metallurgy of good knife steel.

7 - Bellara is easily flustered and Keziah isn't good at portraying emotions so I think it takes a while before they figure each other out, but once they do there's probably a lot of publoc hand-holding and sitting in laps. Anything more than that isn't really my area of expertise.

8 - I imagine they're known by name by the staff of any decent museum.

9 - I had her on my team for most of the game. And in my head their combat banter mostly revolves around their different approaches to fighting, Bel having all this elaborate mobility and tactical stuff going on with firing angles and magic arrows, in stark contrast to Kez whose entire combat strategy is abusing life-steal and burning health for mana to direct a continuous firehose necromantic laser death ray at anything in her way.

10 - I mean, Keziah shortens it to "Bel" and Rook is already a nickname, but other than that, not really.

11 - Keziah said "Huh. I think I might love you." at the dinner table during a particularly animated group conversation, but her one milky eye makes it hard to tell what she's looking at so everyone assumed she was talking to the cutlery.

12 - "Shut up I'm a genius." Spoken immediately after doing something stupid.

13 - All of my music is horrible crunchy electronic brutalism. Not nearly optimistic enough to associate with Bellara.

14 - I'm pretty sure they bring each other weird shit they find on the ground CONSTANTLY.

15 - Bellara built a god-killing knife out of magic radioactive waste to try and cut a hole in the fabric of reality and drag her love interest out of ghost prison. If nothing else, she was definitely thinking like Keziah to come up with that one.

16 - Keziah knew she'd get out eventually. Even if she had to tear a hole through the Fade's bones with her teeth. The idea that somewhere out there Bellara wasn't smiling and writing her stories was more than enough fuel to burn the place down.

17 - Keziah loves that Bellara will decide she wants to do something and just put her whole ass into it until she has it figured out. Bellara loves Keziah's seemingly unconscious habit of looking at every situation from multiple (sometimes contradictory) perspectives to make sure she knows what's actually going on.

18 - All anyone will know is that the beloved fictionalized serials of their adventures will end with a "to be continued".

Questions for your Rook and their partner:

Does your Rook fall for their partner at first sight? If not, what moment made your Rook realize they're in love with them?

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook?

How long does it take for them to officially get together? Did any of the other Lighthouse members have any suspicions beforehand?

Do your Rook and their partner share the same faction? If so, does that affect their relationship at all? If not, what is your Rook's opinion of their partner's faction? What is the partner's opinion of Rook's faction?

Do they have different cultural backgrounds (e.g. a Rook who was raised in Antiva with Harding who was raised in Ferelden)? If so, do they ever share parts of their culture with each other? If they're similar, how do they celebrate their culture together?

What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

What does their ideal date look like? Do they go on much?

Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

Do they have any nicknames for each other? Who uses terms of endearment more?

Who says "I love you" first? What is the other's reaction? Who thinks it first?

Any inside jokes?

What song(s) do you associate with them?

Does your Rook get their partner any other gifts (besides the one already in-game)? Does the partner get Rook any? Any gifts that are particularly special?

What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

What is your Rook's favorite thing about their partner? What is the partner's favorite thing about Rook?

When all is said and done, where would they like to retire together? Is marriage in the cards for them? Children? Pets?

[sombrashe]

first time ∿ nam-gyu & thanos x reader

smut

content readers vagina is referred to with feminine pronouns, reader is called pretty girl & sweet girl, virginity loss, chubby!reader (like fr finally)

having namgyu take your virginity is terrifying. at least at first it is. this man has a tendency to be "brutally honest" no matter how badly that honesty hurts.

you make sure everything is perfect before he gets home. roses on the floor, brand new lingerie set, fresh flowers in the vase on your cardboard coffee table that type of stuff. when he comes home he's confused as fuck to say the least and spends no time trying to find you to "clean up your mess."

when he finally finds you your sitting on the edge of the bed. your tummy folded over and thighs squished together? oh he's salivating now. he wastes no time getting to work.

"I'm home, did you miss me."

"A bit, yeah."

"What about her? She miss me?"

he'll start with getting you wet enough to take him. not actually caring about forplay, only doing it because thanos drilled it into his head that it's important if he wants to keep on pounding. your pussy is absolutely getting talked to the entire time.

"She's so wet for me."

"Think she can take one more finger?"

"She ready for my cock yet?"

when he finally gets to slip it in he nearly cums right then and there. it's not that he hasn't fucked before. hell with working at a nightclub he practically has the pick of the litter. but you're different and it lowkey pisses him off. he'll start out slow purely for his own benefit. wanting to take his time and feel every curve and clench you have to offer before he's slamming his hips into your.

he watches as your tits bounce wildly in your little lace bra while your face screws up as pain and pleasure flood your veins. his skin will be laced in nail marks. blood stains the underside of your nails as you squeeze tighter and tighter as your orgasm approaches. when you finally cum he's not to far behind you and only holds on to be able to see you crack and crumble.

your first time with thanos is oddly sweet. he makes sure you're fully taken care of before you even realize you're ready. obviously you grinding against him during a make out session gives him some inkling of a clue.

he'll have his hands on your hips. panting into your mouth as you drag your sopping wet pussy alongside his hardening cock. gripping the fat there he'll massage your skin while he nips at your bottom lip.

when you've finally had enough you drag him into the bedroom. placing his hands on either tit he gets to work ridding you of his shirt. it's not like he couldn't tell but it's a pleasant surprise when he finds you have no bra one.

his fingers pump in and out of you at an antagonizely slow pace. huffing, you arch your back. his lips were wrapped around your clit and sucking gently. his tongue occasionally darts out to lap at your bundle of nerves before going back to sucking.

you cum with his tongue shoved so deep in your, you swear you can feel it in your throat. laying there soaking a spot into the sheets he jumps on the opportunity to pepper your skin in kisses. neck, shoulders, cheeks, it doesn't matter if it's exposed skin it's getting kissed.

when he finally slips into you it's all praise. he doesn't shut up actually. he talks and talks while sloppily thrusting. the sounds of his low voice and the slick sounds of your pussy being absolutely destroyed make your ears burn.

"My pretty girl, taking me so well."

"You like that? When it hits your cervix?"

"Your pussy is squeezing around me so good."

when you finally cum it's a few minutes after him. his mouth on yours to swallow every moan and little sound you make during your orgasm. he definitely fucks you with his soft cock until you're able to cum. he loves cuddles and will happily have you cling onto him as your body relieves itself of all the endorphins that flooded it during your orgasm.

your first time with both the boys is filled with bruises and bite marks. your flesh is littered in ugly yellow marks under your skin and bloody bites still bleeding even when they get you into bed. namgyu prefers to stay behind you and let thanos do all the emotional heavy lifting. and heavy lifting he does, he makes you feel so secure your only option is to immediately start fucking him with your mind.

both of them love shoving multiple fingers in you. doesn't matter if it's your mouth or pussy you're being stuffed full. low groans muffled by ringed fingers as manicured ones go to town stretching you out. you nearly take his whole hand you're so turned on which merely excites them until they're twitching in their pants.

eagerly they escort you into the bedroom and onto the bed. you're understandably nervous and can't stop looking between them with shifting eyes. they'll talk amongst themselves on how best to take your virginity without ripping you in half. not a very fun conversation to overhear you gotta be honest.

they both agree to fuck you at the same time and take turns making you cum until you're pliant. tongues and fingers are shoved into your pussy until you eventually squirt twice, once for each of them. when they finally slip in it's painful but euphoric. you end up having to play with your own clit as they get lost in the feeling.

definitely boykissers. they make out in front of you while thrusting and it takes everything in you not to cum right there. thanos hand is placed on the back of namgyus neck while his hand is tangled in purple hair. both are breathtaking as they moan into the others mouth.

cumming is easy but it's not simple. both of them take a while to cum and keep on fucking you into orgasm after orgasm as they practically ignore you for each other. you feel weak by the time they cum. your body is jelly and all you can do is lay there and take it. they cover your stomach and thighs in their cum as your sore pussy flutters against the emptiness.

thanos does nothing but praise you while namgyu rips into you

"Took us perfectly, huh, sweet girl."

"Look at you, squeezing around nothing. Pathetic."

"Don't listen to him. You did so well."

"I'm so proud of you."

"Could have moaned more. Barely got to hear anything over Thanos the Great here."

[sashi-ya]

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿 +18 figarland shanks x f! reader x figarland shamrock

🩸 tw: one piece manga #1137 spoilers! if you don't know who shamrock is, careful! 🩸 tw 2: mdni. nsfw. threesome. dp. oral. rough. man handling. insults. 🩸 a/n: hi, how you doing ~ I said I wanted to write it, and I did. Did I totally ignore the fact I need to pack my suitcase? yes. And did my slutty needs win? also yes. Please enjoy. Don't expect much characterization about Shamrock or a very accurate relationship with Shanks as we barely know him. also, I now asume the "shanks" on the left is not shanks but Shamrock since he went to see the Gorosei and we all thought it was Shanks. 🩸wc: 1.5k

“Who could have said it was that easy to bring you back home, brother!?” “Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this”

In between two men that look so alike, and still so different, you find yourself. Restricted by soft, noble hands with ill intentions… you were maybe only a bait.

“It’s ok, Shanks. He didn’t hurt me!” you scream, trying to tame his instincts. You know that the red-haired pirate’s Haki can stop you from breathing -and destroy everything around as well-

“See? She is not lying. I have taken care of her, brother! You shouldn’t leave your little toys scattered around the ports of this world, or else someone else might stole them!” Shamrock Figarland mocks Shanks, yet he does in such refined way it ends up sounding like a truth you might already believe.

Shanks eyes fix on yours; perhaps he knows something you still don’t know. Perhaps, he understands his brother might be right. Leaving you on that port some months ago, crying, feeling used, was something he didn’t want, but ended up doing.

“I must admit you have a great taste, brother. She is such a sweet treat” Shamrock purrs, having your waist surrounded by one of his arms, while his free one caresses your cheek. “Aren’t you?” he continues.

The emperor can’t stop himself; even if Shanks is rarely bothered by immature and stupid actions that are meant to tease him, this time it did actually enraged him.

Gryphon’s edge ends on Shamrocks neck, with you in between two man exhorting dominance and testosterone. Shanks sun bathed skin, with salty traces from the sea… Shamrock’s one, pale, clean, soft, used to the finest things…

“Stop!” you whine, pressed in between their chests. “Stop, please! Stop fighting over me!”

Shamrock laughs; he doesn’t seem disturbed by the burning blade against his carotid, and in fact he keeps adding fuel to the fire.

“You are scaring the lady, brother… do you think she is gonna prefer your brutal attempt to save her instead of being treated like a queen?” he smirks, pulling you against him more and more.

Shanks puts down the sword, slowly. He needs his hand free now, to touch your face, to lure you back at him.

“Should I save you then? Or should I let you choose in between him and I?” he whispers, using his fingers to lift your chin up.

The difference is notorious even though both have the same purpose; possess you. Shank’s calloused hands, versus, soft, never used hands… how to pick just one? If both are irresistibly desirable?

“I don’t wanna choose; I love you, but you left me alone… I don’t love your brother, but he gave me what you took from me” you murmur, perhaps already regretting your decision.

“Ah… then you want us both, don’t you?” Shamrock says, moving your head to look at him instead of his brother.

“You want us both, (Name)?” Shanks asks, this time forcing you to turn your head to him.

Both have their hands on your mandible now; cris crossed, their thumbs close to the commissures of your lips, and their hips plastered against your body. Both hard, both erect. Both desperate to assert dominance, to devour you like beasts, like a hungry dragon.

Oh, sweet prey you must bleed to death in between their jaws. And you are totally fine with that… “I want you both; I want you Shanks. I want you Shamrock-sama”

The tips of his similar swords already cut your clothes, tearing them to pieces, leaving them like rags scattered around you.

Nudity, delicious and tempting, served on a silver platter to them. Shaking, you receive their fangs on each side of your neck, carving marks on your flesh.

Shamrock’s fingers tangle in between your hair, pulling your head back, making your breasts bounce.

The Figarland brothers’ lips abandon your collarbones to kiss your nipples; each attack one; sucking or biting. The difference on stimuli you loudly whine, with legs trembling and slowly failing you to keep standing up.

“Don’t fall, come here” Shamrock lifts you up from your waist, pretty much ripping you from Shanks’ mouth. You get seated on a rocky bed, somehow like a sacrifice altar. Elbaph castles all look the same.

Shanks grunts, watching his brother walk around the cold cot as you lay on your back. And, immediately after, he crawls in between your legs.

The pirate pleasantly finds out you are dripping wet, something he knows very well about you.

“Go first if you wish; as an act of kindness, I’ll let you have her first” the knight spits, acting as if he is the only one commanding. “I’m gonna have her warm mouth around me, anyway”

You gasp, as they both look with pure hatred into each other’s eyes. Yet, the moment breaks as you are given little pats and slaps to look to the side; as Shamrock just said, he wishes your mouth surrounding his sex first.

“Open, baby” he orders, softly. And you do, sticking your tongue out while you wait for his hardness to go deep into your throat.

His white pants don’t even need to go fully down; he is not even bothered to do it; his sex out will be enough. Drippy and delicious, it lands on your tongue. You receive it, pleased.

And as he begins to pump in and out your mouth, you begin moaning and choking.

“Such a slut…” Shanks whispers, looking at your oral spectacle, at the way the corner of your eyes fill with tears as you gag with his brother’s dick.

And, while he thought he cared about your body being used by someone so close but still so different from him, the idea of you being exactly used is what got him harder than ever.

“Now let’s see if your cunt can still handle me” the Yonkou grunts, dragging his palm up and down your sex, getting it coated with your juices. From your perineum to your clit, fast, enjoying the humid feeling of more and more wetness, forcing your legs open as they tend to close in response.

Shanks changes his palm for his two fingers, gladly anticipating the way your walls will clench around his dick when he finally buries deep inside you.

Shamrock laughs while using your face as a fuck hole; a tight grip on your hair to move your head, to make it bob, like you didn’t matter, like you were just made to please his “holly” dick.

“Keep your legs open, little slut” Shanks orders, going faster and harder, masturbating and getting your insides ready for his upcoming intrusion.

And just before you could burst, the redhaired stops the fingering. Maybe to punish you, or maybe just because he can’t wait no more. He needs to replace his fingers for his rock-hard shaft. It has started to hurt from the desire, from the desperation to fuck you.

That desperation, leads the pirate to slide his dick deep inside you without a warning, without any delicacy or love. Just pure madness, making your insides revolve and your body retort.

“Wow, easy brother…” Shamrocks grunts, forcing your mouth to keep surrounding his shaft. “You are gonna break her” he continues, laughing as if he wasn’t doing the same.

“Shut up” Shanks grunts back, going harder, using his arm around your waist to keep you from shaking, manhandling you for his own pleasure. “Keep fucking her, use her, it’s all she wants… slut”

In any other situation you would have feel yourself sad or insulted, but Shanks is right… all you want now is to be used, fucked by them…

“Then, let me fill her whole too” “Now you are asking for permission?” “Come on… you know me, I still have some codes”

Shanks scoffs; stopping his hips from punishing you with brutal rams, he lays flat on his back.

“Come here, ride me and get ready… slut” the pirate commands, allowing you to crawl and straddle your hips on his lap. You let your shaky body to fall on his sex, feeling all the length reaching deeper than ever. “Good girl…”

You start riding him, while Shamrock’s presence quickly surrounds you from behind. He kneels and pushes you from your back to fall a little on Shanks chest. “I’m sure your cunt can handle the Figarland pride just as well” Shamrock whispers on your ear, tickling your shoulder with his long hair, letting his tip slowly slide your already occupied entrance.

It takes barely seconds for both to be finally penetrating you, and also for them to start fucking you at unison. Your hips lost the war, and now it’s theirs that move.

“That’s good slut, that’s very good… you can take us both so well…” “Let us fill you up until you can’t keep it inside…”

You are just a toy, trembling, stretched, used, fucked by two of the strongest men in the world. And what a pleasure it is to know you took the right decision, why picking one if you can have both? ~

[practicalgauntlet]

~You're still my person. Even if I'm not yours.~

Part two

"We kept crossing paths, near misses and almosts, when all I ever wanted was for us to collide." -Jessica Katoff

Synopsis - Some time has passed, and you think you've healed. But when you're shot by an unsub, old wounds are ripped open for all to see.

Category- Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Notes - Hurt/comfort, you get shot, Canon typical violence, blood and gore, angst, self-loathing, self-blaming, a year has passed between this and part one, gender-neutral reader (I only use They/Them pronouns because I know everyone likes Spencer not just the girlies), I'm so sorry this is so long, you're a trooper if you get through all of this. The fic started writing itself :/

A/N- this is for @bloodredrubyrose and everyone else who wanted the happy ending. I hope this is okay.

WARNING- This one-shot has violence similar to the cases in the show, but I wanted to bring attention to what transpires and is mentioned in this fic. The case revolves around murdered pregnant women and their fetuses. If the topic is too sensitive for you or can trigger anything, I suggest not reading this.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A year has passed since J.J.'s wedding.

You still find yourself hurting, lying awake at night thinking of the possibility of "What if?". You still have to shake away the thoughts of inadequacy, of not good enough.

Sometimes, when you're particularly tired or inebriated, you find yourself still unable to look away from him.

It was three weeks and two days after the wedding when Spencer invited you to hang out with him again. It was a month, two weeks, and eleven hours when he greeted you with a genuine smile again.

It was eight months, three weeks, six days, and two hours when you felt like you could breathe again.

Everything was back to normal. It wasn't bright, shiny rainbows and glittery kittens like Penelope said it would be once you healed. But it was normal.

It was easier to ignore the festering pit in your stomach during the day, easier to look your team in the eye, say, "I'm okay." and mean it. It was easier to watch Spencer heal the same way you were.

You were so proud of him. It felt like your Spencer was back. His long-winded speeches about something that didn't seem relevant but ended up helping the case drastically, his magic tricks in the bullpen when Hotch was in his office, and his goofy authenticity. All of it was back, at least partially.

He still got quiet when J.J. was around and closed in on himself. But compared to those days after the wedding, he was making immense progress. You just wished he let you in so you could help.

"I don't think they're listening."

You barely hear Morgan's voice over the bubbling thoughts that threatened to take control and invade your mind.

"Oh, sugar they're definitely not listening."

Penelope's hand was slamming down on your desk, startling you out of your reverie.

"What's on your mind, honey pot?"

She asks, propping herself up on the table. With her quirked eyebrow and intense look in her eye, you knew what she was asking.

"Are you still hurting?"

She was right to be worried, right to involve herself in case you got worse again. But instead of thinking about Spencer and how you'll never be on the receiving end of his affectionate gaze, you were actually thinking about the case.

There was a lull in leads, the ones you had only took the team to a dead end. Dead body after dead body and still nothing.

"I'm fine, Pen. This case is just taking a lot out of me."

And it was true. The BAU had been called in because a dead body had been unearthed by a gardener somewhere East. A heavily pregnant woman had been murdered, her unborn child ripped from her body and buried with her.

It was horrifying, to say the least, the brutality of the unsub turning your breakfast sour. But it had been seven hours since the team landed in the small town, and you were still no closer to finding the culprit.

"Why don't we get something to eat, hmm?"

Penelope suggested, hopping off the table and holding out her hand for you.

"If you're getting food, get me a little somethin'. I'm in the mood for Chinese!"

Morgan yelled from across the room, his hip propped against the clear board Spencer was mumbling at.

"I guess we're getting Chinese."

You chuckle, standing up and following Penelope out of the makeshift conference room the local police allowed you to use. As you were passing Spencer, you turned to him and called his name.

"Do you want anything specific?"

He looks to you, eyes reluctantly leaving his equations as he's pulled from his thoughts.

"What?"

There was a surge of affection at the sight of his pursed lips and furrowed brows. The way his hands fiddled with the marker, clicking the lid on and off the end.

"We're getting the team Chinese takeout. Do you want anything?"

"Just a fork."

You nod your head, peeling yourself away from his attentive gaze. When you and Penelope get in the car, she places a hand on yours. You didn't take your eyes off the road, but you could tell that she was looking at you with that look again.

"How have you been, sugar?

It felt good to have someone watching over you, someone in your corner, to ask if you were okay even after time had passed and you were healed.

"I've been doing good."

She was the only one to know of your breakdown on Rossi's front porch. She was the only one you allowed to see what it did to you those weeks afterward. How depressed you were, how hopeless. Penelope Garcia was your best friend, and she was the only one to know you were still unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Spencer Reid.

"Are you sure about that? I know this case is a doozy but I know that look in your eye."

You briefly take your eyes off the road once you reach a red light, patting the hand that now rested comfortingly on your thigh.

"Yes, I'm fine. It doesn't feel like the world is ending anymore. Plus, life is unfair sometimes. I just need to roll with the punches."

She looked at you, her knowing eyes always privy to the storm that rolled beneath your skin. In one final attempt to comfort her worry, you flash her your most believable smile.

Penelope quirked an eyebrow and looked away, not at all convinced but persuaded to leave it be for the time being.

The trip for food was brief. You got various dishes in case the team was in the mood for a certain thing. You were back at the station within twenty minutes, walking into the conference room to something you never wanted to see.

Your team was gathered around the table, faces grim as they spoke towards the phone sitting in the middle.

"Another body..."

Penelope whispers, catching the eyes of Morgan as he shakes his head solemnly. Hotch was already giving the team their orders.

Morgan and Emily were dispatched to question the family as the local police had already ID'd the girl. She was a well-known and loved woman; she was a part of the PTA, led the neighborhood watch, and hosted bake sales for all parts of the community.

J.J. was asked to stay behind and deal with the journalists and news anchors that suddenly surrounded the station.

That left you and Spencer to follow up with the police at the scene of the crime. Spencer drove the two of you there, your knee bouncing in the passenger seat as you watched the scenery pass by.

"I don't get it..."

Spencer mumbles. When you look to him for an explanation he was already glancing at you.

"Why pregnant women? Why take the baby out and bury it with the mother? It makes no sense."

You flip down the visor, both because you need to get the sun out of your eyes and to do something with your hands.

"Maybe they're surrogates for his real target? A mother? Maybe he's upset at his mom and taking the baby is a way to give mercy to his inner child."

"Or maybe," Spencer counters, long fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he pulls into the crime scene. "They're surrogates for a wife."

The scene before you was gnarly. And unfortunately, the unsub had changed M.O.

The woman was buried in a shallow grave like the others, dressed in a thin white gown, poised perfectly like Snow White with her child tightly swaddled in a towel and tucked safely in her arms. The only difference was the lack of blood, the lack of brutality. That, and she had blonde hair whereas the other victims were brunettes.

"He's devolving."

You mutter, feeling sick at the sight of her.

"Or he's getting close to what he's wanting to do."

You look up at him from your squatted position, taking in Spencer in all his glory. He looked so good in his FBI vest, with his sweater and tie peeking out from the collar.

You shouldn't be thinking of him like that. Not when a woman and her child had lost their life and they lay decaying in front of you. Not when you should already be over him.

"What do you mean?"

"She looks perfectly preserved. Sure, she's laid out in the same outfit and the same position. The color and the way she's laid are meant to symbolize purity. So we know he isn't murdering for hatred. He feels sympathy for these women. But look at this,"

He crouches next to you, the movement sending your heart into overdrive. His sleeves were rolled up as he shoved his hands into some blue surgical gloves. You could even smell his cologne.

"Her hair," He picks up a strand. "Her hair had been styled. There's a texture to it that means he used hairspray. And while the others' hair was wild and unkempt, most likely because he kept them for some time or they fought back, her's is washed and curled."

"So we know this woman is a surrogate, but he's not acting on any sexual or vengeful impulse?"

Spencer turned to you, looking at you from above his sunglasses.

"I think we're ready to give the profile."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"We are looking for a white male in his mid to late thirties."

Morgan starts as he leans against one of the desks, his arms folded against his chest. Emily stepped up, continuing on as she stared each and every officer down to make sure they were taking this as seriously as it was.

"Look for someone who had recently lost a wife and child during the birth, someone who is most likely blue collar. He would have been a normal man up until his loss. Now, he would be agitated and easily riled up. Getting into fights or arguments when he normally wouldn't. "

You step in, delivering the line you rehearsed in your head over and over on the ride back to the station.

"He's kidnapping pregnant women so he could relive the birth. So he could hold his child and kiss his wife. But he's desperate, so he is taking the babies out prematurely and amateurly that neither victim survives. He would need a space to do all of this, a garage, a second home, or a place of work. Somewhere concealed enough to not draw attention but spacious enough to perform the c-section."

It was now Hotch's turn to deliver the final line of the profile.

"He will continue to take women until he gets what he wants. We need to make sure Kate Smith is his last victim."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You found him. Carl McGregor, a welder for a construction company. His wife of six years died giving birth to his child, and he went off the rails.

You sympathized with him, knowing that he was in so much pain. But that didn't excuse what he did to those poor women and the families they were a part of.

Carl was hiding out in his garage, a woman in the last week of her second trimester strapped to the table; screaming for help.

You were the first on the scene, your legs carrying you just a bit faster than the others. When you opened the garage door, you had to put every ounce of will not to tackle the guy to the ground.

"FBI! Put the scalpel down Carl!"

Carl was hovering over Debbie Park, a young mother of three and a half. He had her strapped to a makeshift stretcher and her terrified screams broke your heart.

"No!" Carl said with a crazed look in his eyes. "My wife is about to give birth, give her space!"

You lower your gun so the barrel isn't aimed straight at his skull but keep it raised just in case. When you spoke, you made sure you sounded as calm and understanding as possible.

"Carl, your wife died three weeks ago giving birth to your son. Let Debbie go so her husband doesn't experience the loss you did.

You don't know how or when Spencer made it into the garage but he suddenly appeared in the shadows, his gun aimed at Carl.

"No, please!" Carl was focused on you, his shaking hands still holding Debbie down. "This is my wife! Why are trying to take her away?"

You lower your gun entirely, feeling safe with Spencer there to have your back. You approached Carl slowly, keeping your body crouched as if you were approaching a scared and wounded animal. Because that's exactly what he was. A scared and wounded animal.

"Carl?" You put a hand on his shoulder. He winces but doesn't attack. "Debbie has a family, she has three kids and a husband who are worried sick about her. Do you want to put her husband and kids through the same pain you're feeling?"

It all happened so fast. First Carl was lunging at you, a gun you didn't know he had raised before you could pull your own. Debbie's screams mixed with yours as Spencer fired his gun and took Carl down.

There was a sharp sting to your chest, your right shoulder to be exact just under your collarbone. Upon Carl's death, his finger squeezed the trigger and put a bullet three inches from your heart.

Spencer was in front of you before you could collapse, cradling your head to save it from bashing against the concrete ground.

"I need a medic!"

Spencer yelled into his com, his face wild with worry as he pressed his hands into your wound.

It hurt, sending a blazing fire throughout your body. In the back of your mind, you heard yourself scream from the pain, your throat raw and ragged. Your hands uncontrollably gripped Spencer's vest, clutching him closer to you as you tried to breathe around the sharp, boiling pain.

"You're going to be okay, the medic is on his way."

Spencer's voice sounded far away, garbled and hazy like he was underwater. Panic soon tore across your body, thrumming through your veins as you tried to ignore the sticky warmth pooling through your shirt.

"No, no, stay with me. Stay with me please!"

You barely felt Spencer's cold hands patting your cheek. You had to say it now, as you were dying. This was your last chance to tell him how you feel. You already felt yourself slipping away.

"Spence..."

Your mouth felt so dry, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. He was shaking above you, pulling your body into his lap as he rocked you back and forth.

"I'm here, I'm here. I'm not leaving, you'll be okay."

You felt he was saying that more for himself than he was for you.

It was hard to unfurl your fingers from his vest but you did it, lifting your hand to cradle his cheek. It was now or never.

"Before I dye, I need you to know-"

"No!" Spencer seethed. You had never seen him so emotional before, so upset he looked feral. "You are not going to die! Where's my fucking medic?!"

"I need you to know, that I love you."

He smoothed his hands over your face, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "I love you too, you're my best friend."

You let out a breathy, strangled, humourless chuckle. Of course he'd make you spell it out for him.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer..."

Black was edging your vision, your ears ringing as you watched Spencer blink once, twice, before the medic pushed him away.

Faintly you felt your body being moved, that white-hot pain once again rendering you speechless as you finally succumbed to the darkness that was calling to you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't taste, or hear, or feel. Frantic, animalistic worry overpowered every other emotion. Logic be damned, facts be damned.

"Reid, calm down or you're gonna wear a hole in the floor."

"There is a high chance the bullet nicked a vital vein or artery. It took us fifteen minutes and thirty seconds to get her to the hospital and another six minutes for the doctors to start operating. There is a higher chance that she lost too much blood and will need a transfusion. If she needs a transfusion there is a chance she could have a Febrile non-hemolytic transfusion reaction or a Transfusion-related acute lung injury. There are so many possibilities to think over and every time I think I've found a way to stop them another one pops up. Do not tell me to calm down!"

Morgan backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"My bad, man."

Emily was next to approach him and he had to look away from the worry on her face.

"Only thinking about what could go wrong will only cause you more stress. Maybe you should go home and take a shower."

"Stop telling me what to do."

He didn't recognize his voice, and he knew his friends didn't recognize him. So he backed off, settling himself in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, and put his head in his hands.

Emily was right. Derek was right. But if he thought about anything other than the complications that could take you away from him all he would focus on were the last words you uttered before blacking out.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer."

He didn't know what to do with that information. After J.J. he didn't allow himself to even look a second longer at someone that was out of his league. Which was everyone. Especially you.

You were so kind and gentle with him. You let him go on his rants, asking him to finish what he was saying if the team not so subtly told him to shut up or bluntly interrupted him. You loved his endless facts and knowledge and you told him often.

You were like a beacon of light when you entered the room, his gaze unconsciously looking for you wherever he was. You were his best friend; you knew everything about him and still treated him like a human being. Not some computer, not some freak.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His hands were shaky and he couldn't keep still to save his life. He had never felt like this before, not when a gun was pointed in his face, not when the bureau was infiltrated. Not even when Emily was in the hospital.

He'd never been this scared shitless before.

And then it hit him.

He was in love with you.

He had been for a while. Maybe after J.J., maybe before. Spencer didn't know when it happened or how deeply it had been buried. All he knew was that it was now so fucking obvious.

It felt so natural. He had always thought you were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. Always thought that you'd be a phone call away when he needed you and he'd be the same. Whenever he thought of something you were always there, in the back of his mind like you belonged there.

He faintly heard a commotion, the sound of chairs scraping against the ground and footsteps running away. He looked up from the floor, his body fuzzy from the realization.

Spencer bolted from his seat the moment he saw the doctor standing in front of his team. He gently shoved aside Morgan and J.J. needing to hear the news as close as possible.

"They're stable and awake. It had just barely missed their heart, but they will heal with no permanent damage."

Spencer could have dropped to his knees with relief, his body sagging and his lungs deflating.

"Can I- we see her?"

"Of course, but we still need to take their vitals frequently. And a room full of people would not be best stress-wise so I suggest one to two people at a time."

Morgan clapped him on the back, a knowing look on his face before shoving him forward.

"We're going to get something to eat. You check on our sunshine."

After all the attitude he threw their way, he was dumbfounded that they would give him such a precious opportunity.

"Thank you,"

"No problem, Pretty Boy."

When Spencer entered your room, it was like he walked into a different reality. You were usually so bright and shining, carving a path of light and kindness wherever you stepped, but now you were lifeless. The tubes and wires hooked up to you made you look so uninhabited; pale, and sickly from the blood loss.

Spencer approached the bed, being careful not to make any noise that would startle you awake. Your eyes were closed and he assumed you were probably in and out of consciousness due to the pain meds they were pumping into you.

He hated seeing you like this.

"Spence?"

He hadn't realized you had awoken, too focused on all the machinery you were hooked up to.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Spencer didn't know what to do with his body so he just stood there, willing his emotions into submission and picking at the skin of his thumbs.

"I feel like I just got hit by a train."

You groan and he is at your side immediately, checking the monitors and making sure your pain meds are working. They were, but he needed to make sure.

"What no fact about processing pain or how it affects the body?"

You were looking up at him now, a pained but genuine smile on your face. In the hour that he worried relentlessly about you, he feared he'd never see that again.

That smile faded into something akin to concern when he didn't respond.

"What's wrong Spence?"

"I thought you were going to die."

He sounded so small, even to his own ears. Weak, scared. Like a child.

You waved him over closer, and he listened. If you told him to, he would follow you to the ends of the earth. It surprised him when you grabbed his hand and placed it over your heart, the roughness of the gauze grazing his shaking fingers. He tried to pull away, but you kept him there so he could feel your heartbeat.

"I'm still here, Spencer. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Do you-" He couldn't stand not knowing anymore. The probability of people saying things they didn't mean while bleeding out was too high for him to think clearly any longer. "Do you remember what you said to me?"

He watched your face turn sad, your lips turn inward and your eyes drop to the hospital-grade blanket. You also dropped his hand, the limb numbly swinging back by his side.

"Yes," You refused to look at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, it was unfair of me."

"No, I-"

"I understand if I've ruined everything. I don't blame you if you don't want to be friends anymore."

Before he could think and rehearse a thought-out sentence, his mouth moved and spoke for him. "I don't want to be friends."

He realized his mistake not a second later. And to make up for it, to take away the pain on your face, he gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

"I love you too, so much so that the idea of you dying turned me into an illogical and emotional mess."

Tears lined your wide eyes as you stared up at him, your cheeks regaining some color. Now that he's said it out loud, he couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried.

"I love you so much, that I want to take away all your pain. All the bad memories and shitty feelings that take away that pretty smile. I'd do anything for you."

You reached up and cupped his cheek, much like hours before, your lip quivering.

"I'd do anything for you too, Spence."

"I know."

It felt natural to kiss your forehead, to settle into the small hospital bed, and tuck you gently into his side. It felt natural to, days later after you were discharged, take you on a proper date and call you his.

A/N- Realistically I know there would be more turmoil, less trust, and more self-doubt during the confession part but this is fiction of fiction so let's just pretend okay:) I'll save that stuff for the full-length stuff. Also along the lines of reality, I know that there is such a thing as a bulletproof vest, but I needed drama so forgive me.

[liliapleasesteponme]

Bad girl

Lilia x rio x agatha (lithario)

Summary - smut. thats it. smut with no plot

Swearing, strap, mean!lilia, edging, begging, mommy kink, spanking, denial

Translations (we love sicilian speaking lilia) : amuri = love, lu me ciuri = my flower, cagna = bitch

TAGLIST - @mgruiz @multixfan @angeliccss @ilovepattilupone @renafisher27 @thegoddamnfeels @delusionalforolderwomen @lilia-calderus-pet-goat @bravewithacapitalb @live-laugh-love-lupone @lotus-ignis @lemz378 @yourbasicqueerie

"fuckfuckfuckfuckkk" was all Rio could say as Agathas hands snaked further around her thighs holding her legs open. Lilia continued to pound into her at a brutal pace.

Neither Agatha nor Rio actually knew why Lilia was being so rough today but neither were complaining.

As Lilia's strap brought Rio closer and closer to the release she was dying for, Agatha began to whine from the lack of attention from either of them.

"aww, you need some attention, amuri ? Has watching me edge Rio gotten you all worked up ?"

Lilia's words were sewn with faux sympathy but Agatha was so needy that all she could do was desperately nod her head. "you know what that means."

If she helped Agatha then Rio would be left on the edge again. She couldn't let that happen again. When it dawned on her what Lilia meant she began to beg in hopes of finally being able to cum.

"Agatha please―please don't ! I need this. I need to cum," Rio turned her head back to Lilia, "mommy please i-im so close"

Rio knew her begging was pathetic. Lilia never took kindly to begging, seeing it as futile, but in the moment she didn't care. Rio became so lost in her thoughts only to be pulled out of them by the sudden feeling of Lilia thrusting back into her.

Her thrusts were so forceful, giving Rio exactly what she craved. Once she reached the edge again, she was going to be to cum but before she could, she heard Lilia say, "what's the word ?"

"mommy."

"go on, lu me ciuri, cum for me."

Rio had never moaned so loud when she was finally allowed to cum, though it was quickly overshadowed by lilia pulling Agatha forward and onto her lap.

"think you can be a whining bitch and not get punished ?"

Agatha stayed silent.

"think again."

As she spoke, she gave Agatha a hard spank making her let out a small squeal. "i want you to count for me, cagna, i thinking 20."

Agatha turned her head to look at Lilia just to say, "yes mommy."

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

"you see ? This is what you get for being an impatient, needy little bitch."

6...

7...

8...

9...

10...

The tenth spank was harder, making Agatha jump slightly. Rio, watching from the side, let out a soft moan at the scene in front of her.

11...

12...

13...

14...

15...

Lilia smirked at Agathas small whimpers of mercy. "you're doing so well, amuri, just a few more."

16...

17...

18...

19...

20...

A sigh of relief was let out when Agatha was done counting. She felt like she could finally breathe again "now tell me, what was it you wanted so badly ?"

"want you to use your tongue, please ?"

Lilia didn't say anything so Agatha tilted her head as if to ask the question again.

"no."

"what ?" Agatha asked desperately.

"i said no. Considering your attitude earlier, i think i'll make you wait."

[dood-itsradical]

Sorry for the delay! Work been ass. Soooo half-assed king huh? Yeesh... Ig some of us were expecting a cool title from that dude I'm not even mad lmao. Surely there's a reason behind it and I still love him. Look how semi pathetic he looked? I want more of that. He's so sexy. SO. Without further ado smut Jaegyeon bc he and y'all deserves it 😏😏

It was just a small tease, you know? You accidentally forgot about what humans called 'boundaries'. It's crazy when you think about it. Jaegyeon Na has always been a dramatic little shit with a big dick energy. Except the big dick part was also literal believe it or not.

He's a handsome dude, no doubt. He's jacked. Pathetic too if your squint hard enough. Everyone is a pathetic once in a while. Even you.

Have you seen yourself? Like, right now?

"Gghk! Fuck!" He groaned harshly next to your ears. His hard cock hitting places you never knew existed before. If you never been so bruised and beaten all your damn life, you do now. You could've done something. Tell him to stop, said the safe word but who are you to be a buzzkill? Only to waste the opportunity to see him turn into such beast?

There's not a simple skin or body parts he hasn't touch. Who the fuck are you to tell him no? You're tripping.

You lost count on how many times you have cum. Oh wait. Right. I mean how many times you have cum in each rounds. He surely is relentless. You were crying, sobbing your ass out. Who the fuck is he to stop when you just feel so fucking good around his dick?

But let's do a little recap while we're at it. Speaking of boundaries, it's your fault anyway. The so-called half-assed king showing you that he may be a half-assed but not in bed.

There is no position he hadn't fuck you yet. Any surface he can get to, it's the night you received it. The bed, the wall, vanity, the floor, the window, bathroom sink etc.

His hips slapping against yours with a sloppy rhythm as he hold a fistful of your hair against the wall. He was quick to change his angle, unsatisfied. He never satisfied. When he thought he hit your sweet spot, he had to find another. You can't fool him, he knows there's more.

You let out a desperate moan. He mimicked you out of spite. "Fuck, you're so fucking annoying." He fastened his pace as a payback, making you whined loudly. "Shut up!!" He scowled louder, pushing your head deeper against his wall.

He let out a groan of his own, breathing harshly through his teeth as he fuck you stupid. The sight is sexy. Using one hand to hold you while the other dangle on his side. He's just giving you a break. That is the very least you can get from him. He doesn't stop his pace at all though.

When he's tired of standing, he just shoved you into his king sized mattress and locked you between his jacked bicep, practically choking you while he fucks you from behind until you back ached again.

You love it though. Your iris basically shaped into hearts. You didn't have your tongue sticking out like a whore though. He's just too relentless because you're holding the pain between your teeth. Too brutal. It's fucking painful you actually forgot the meaning of pain anymore.

You're just too loud tonight so he clasped his calloused hand onto your mouth to shut up you while your lewd mouth turned into desperate, helpless muffles.

"Fuck." He gasped heavily, his tightened his grip. You could barely breath before. Now you look fucking ridiculous. The stamina is just too insane you at the verge of passing out. Combine with your sweats and other dirty fluids, the fucking section just get even smoother and hotter. His cock stretching your easier, with you beginning to limb against him.

"Do not." He warned, immediately letting go of your whole body, towering you and spin you around to face him. "Don't you fucking dare pass out of me." He gritted his teeth, shaking you as he grasped your cheeks between his hand as you faced each other. The pure lust and dominance burning in his eyes, even in such a bitchy state you can see it. He's going feral.

Within a flash, he let your face go and bring your legs under his arms before locking them on both side of your ears.

He thrusts back into you in one go, filling you up with his meat stick once again. Earning another annoying sound coming from your mouth.

He continue to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. He is hellbent to remind you, to remind everyone why he isn't just a fucking half-assed king.

Masterlist

[m4rv3l-girl]

https://youtu.be/T_VcDbPon4s?si=3htb3msk-ozJv-8w

Bucky x reader based on this

Bucky sees reader and instantly feels a connection but doesn't see her again until Tony announces that he has a new assistant and its reader!!

Somewhere In Brooklyn

Warnings: none

The winter sun was setting behind the buildings of Brooklyn, casting long shadows over the streets as Bucky Barnes walked down the familiar sidewalks. He stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, trying to ward off the biting chill that seeped through his gloves. The streets were quieter than usual, punctuated only by the occasional honk of a taxi or the chatter of passersby.

He had been out for hours, trying to escape the four walls of the compound. It wasn’t often he ventured into the city alone, but something about today had pulled him out. Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was just the need to feel something beyond the constant hum of missions and training. Whatever it was, it had led him here.

And then he saw her.

She was standing outside a small café, her head tilted back as she laughed at something her friend had said. He only caught the woman beside her saying “Y/N, seriously?” while giggling. The sound of her laughter didn’t carry to him, but the sight of her was enough to make him pause mid-step.

She was wrapped in a thick scarf, her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her hands cradling a steaming cup of coffee. There was something about her - something that made the world around him blur into nothing.

Bucky wasn’t one for believing in fate or destiny. His life had been too harsh, too brutal for such fanciful notions. But in that moment, as she glanced up and her eyes briefly met his, he felt something shift. Her smile faltered for the briefest second, her brows knitting together as if she recognized him. Then she turned back to her friend, and the moment was gone.

Bucky didn’t know how long he stood there, staring after her. By the time he shook himself out of his stupor, she was walking away, disappearing into the crowded streets. He wanted to call out, to follow her, but his feet were rooted to the ground. The metal fingers of his left hand twitched in his pocket, a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake.

“Get a grip, Barnes,” he muttered under his breath.

For days after, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes had seemed to pierce right through him—it was all he could think about. He told himself it was ridiculous, that she was just a stranger. But logic didn’t stop the ache of wanting to see her again.

Weeks passed, and life went on as usual. Missions came and went, the team bickered and bonded, and Bucky fell back into the rhythm of his new normal. He tried to push thoughts of her away, but she lingered in the corners of his mind, a constant, gentle presence that he couldn’t shake.

Then, one morning, everything changed.

Tony Stark sauntered into the common room, his usual swagger intact as he clapped his hands together. “Listen up, everyone. We’ve got a new team member joining us today.”

Steve glanced up from the newspaper he was reading. “Another recruit?”

“Not quite,” Tony said, smirking. “My new assistant. She’s brilliant, organized, and, most importantly, she actually likes me. Unlike the rest of you ingrates.”

“Hard to believe,” Natasha muttered, earning a chuckle from Clint.

Bucky didn’t pay much attention to the exchange. He was nursing a cup of coffee, his thoughts elsewhere. It wasn’t until Tony said her name that his head snapped up.

“Y/N should be here any minute,” Tony continued. “Try not to scare her off, okay?”

The name hit him like a freight train. His heart started pounding, and his grip on the mug tightened. It couldn’t be. It was a common enough name, wasn’t it? But as if summoned by some cosmic twist of fate, the elevator doors dinged, and she stepped out.

It was her.

She looked slightly different from the last time he’d seen her—dressed in professional attire, her hair neatly styled—but there was no mistaking her. She was just as radiant, just as breathtaking as she had been that day in Brooklyn.

“Everyone, meet Y/N,” Tony announced, gesturing grandly. “She’s going to make sure I actually show up to meetings on time and don’t blow up the lab. A Herculean task, I know.”

Y/N offered a small smile, her gaze sweeping over the group. When her eyes landed on Bucky, they widened slightly, recognition flashing across her face.

“Hi,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Bucky stood frozen, his mind racing. Did she remember him? Or was he just another face in the sea of strangers she encountered every day? He wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

Steve, ever the gentleman, stepped forward and shook her hand. “Welcome to the team. I’m Steve.”

The rest of the introductions followed, each of the team members taking turns to greet her. When it was finally Bucky’s turn, he felt like his heart might leap out of his chest.

“Bucky,” he said simply, holding out his hand.

Her fingers brushed against his as they shook, and he swore he felt a jolt of electricity. Her smile was polite, but there was something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe? Or was it recognition?

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“You too,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

For the rest of the day, Bucky couldn’t focus on anything. Every time she walked into the room, his gaze would flicker to her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was so close, yet so far, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn’t explain. She was smart and kind, with a quiet confidence that made her stand out. She treated everyone with respect, even Tony when he was being insufferable, and she had a way of making people feel at ease.

He started finding excuses to be around her—helping her carry files to the lab, offering to grab coffee when she looked stressed, lingering in the common room when he knew she’d be there. Slowly but surely, they began to talk. Small conversations at first—about work, about Brooklyn, about anything and everything. And with each passing day, Bucky felt himself falling deeper and deeper.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, she turned to him, her expression thoughtful. “I feel like I’ve seen you before,” she said. “Before I started working here.”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “You were at a café in Brooklyn a couple of months ago,” he admitted. “I saw you there.”

Her eyes widened. “That was you?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. “I wanted to say something, but…I didn’t.”

A smile slowly spread across her face, warm and genuine. “Well, you’re saying something now.”

And just like that, Bucky felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. Maybe fate wasn’t such a fanciful notion after all.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you want another part! 🫶

[shehungers]

OF FLESH SIN

vampire priest x reader | 2.6k | 18+

a ghastly sight! one of the monastery's beloved priests has been found brutally murdered and disfigured in his chambers. father shaw, a newer addition to the monastery, claims to have answers to sate your reaching curiosity—but he wishes for you to come to his chambers at night.

story warnings; dark content, time period inaccuracies, graphic + gruesome details, vampires are predators, power imbalance, kinda obsessive behavior, prose + detail heavy, mention of animal death, hypnotism (kinda), very yandere behavior, roughly proofread.

reposted from my old blog: theoxenfree.

please consider leaving feedback + reblogging!

Father Marius died in quite some awful way last night, as reported to you by the nuns hanging fresh washed garments on the clothesline in the waning, purpling daylight.

“A look of horror! Utter terror! So frightened that his jaw had become dislocated in forever a scream,” shivered one young nun, Lucy; recently a convert from the slums. “I, well, I didn't see it myself. Neither did the rest of us, actually. They say it was that new Father Shaw who found him at dawn.”

You had been raking gravel out of the yard, tiny stones kicked off of the path into the kempt lawn by prancing horses and wagon wheels, when Lucy and the other nun, Esme, had caught your attention with their hard, dense gossip. They regarded your approach with less caution than they would have had with their other sisters, as gossip was deemed inappropriate, a violation, a flickering serpent’s tongue carrying covert temptations leading to luscious sins and debauchery.

They saw you—poor, morose, the groundskeeper's only child and reminder of loveless trysts—and thought nothing of snaking you into their prattle. You were not the sort to divulge anyone's secrets without gain, without reward, and you knew that the nuns kept nothing to their names once they took their vows and donned their habits.

“Father Shaw,” you continued the discussion with some intrigue, mostly from the fact that he was very new, very young, and modestly handsome, “why was he awake so early? Why was he in Father Marius’ chambers? Curious to me.”

Neither of them gave much caution to your questions, shrugging as if to dismiss your ambivalence and accusatory tone. You were bold in the way that the faithless and lost always tended to be: asking senseless things, always concerned with the wrongdoings of others, always suspicious, always inquiring—forever inquiring.

“Oh, my, you're so defensive,” Esme fanned a yellow bedspread out with an oncoming breeze, catching the wind beneath the fabric so it billowed and rippled midair. “If that’s how you're going to be, then: why does your father stumble around the yard at night with a lantern, swinging around a pistol like a madman? Won't he hurt someone?”

Because he's a godless, superstitious drunk. Perhaps, even, a bit disturbed in his mind, but you couldn't bear to think that way, that he might be the type to need his head locked in a metal cage, gagged, arms bound, and padlocked in some damp, distant corner of an asylum.

“He's a good man,” you relented, taking your hands from the top of the smoothed out, worn handle of the rake and resumed your task. The gravel made an awful, grinding sound as the teeth of the rake collected pieces of stone and led it back to the rest. “He's served this monastery well. I don't mean offense about Father Shaw, I'm simply curious about what transpired is all.”

“No offense taken,” came a voice from behind, startling both the twittering nuns and yourself at the same time. They saw it to be Father Shaw standing there, hands cuffed behind his back with a particularly demure disposition, hiked their skirts and whisked themselves away back inside. “Ah, am I really such a frightful figure? I couldn't really find an opening during your conversation to invite myself in. I apologize.”

You were of a similar fretful nature, quickening your clawing and the reach of the rake. “Nay, Father. I think it's simply because you're a strange man to them still. A handsome face, a warm voice, mysterious; give them time, they'll come around.”

“Have you?” Father Shaw asked, taking measured strides in a half-circle around to your front. He concentrated on where the teeth of your instrument struck next, tips temporarily wedged into the soft dirt before being ripped up with chunks of earth and gray gravel. “It wouldn't do for me if you… were still ill at ease with me as well. I consider you my one, true friend in this place.”

Your father held a certain destestation towards Father Shaw that you'd never witnessed before, saying nothing else than that something was terribly wrong with him and not to place yourself in a position to be alone with him. This you attributed to his unsoundness, but it was always the sudden flicker a sharp breath against candlelight—a jarring shift in his demeanor when he spoke about the Father, neurotic and prone to throwing things about the cottage interior, that caused you to pay some mind to what he told you.

“And, you're a great friend of mine as well,” you hoped you sounded coherent and paced your words evenly enough. “I'm sorry if you thought I was accusing you of something, sir. I really meant nothing to it.”

Father Shaw’s lips sprawled tight and pale into a fond smile, never showing his teeth, though the imprint of them seemed massive and the skin of his lips startlingly thin across them. “I know. You have nothing to fear. My feelings were not affected. If you'd like, come to my chambers later, we may pray together first, and I'll tell you everything you wish to know about what I saw to sate your curiosity.”

“That seems improper, sir.” You said.

“How so?”

“Inviting someone to your chambers at night seems an unbecoming venture for a pious man of status, such as yourself,” you continued, now standing upright beside your rake, “if any of the sisters were to witness it, worse another priest, aren't you afraid you'd be horribly chastised? Even worse, excommunicated altogether?”

Although Father Shaw’s dark eyes reflected no light, holding such demanding depth to them that it was hard to keep your bearings whenever you realized you'd been staring, his entire face was alight in amusement.

“Wherever did you learn to speak like that?” he asked candidly, still glowing despite his pallor. “Forgive me when I say, but your father is not an educated man. I mean no offense, please don't look at me in such a way. You are so well spoken, I only wish to know more about you.”

“I've lived here my entire life,” you told him. “The nuns taught me how to read.”

He looked impressed. “You can read?”

“I can!” From a near distance, you could make out your father’s haddard form, bent sideways on a walking cane and limping towards the pair of you. You looked up at the priest’s smooth face. “It'd be best for you to leave before my father can speak to you. He isn't the kindest soul after a long day.

Father Shaw didn't react with any semblance of worry, but agreed that there were other things needing to be done and began away. Just as he passed you on his way towards the monastery, he let his hand rest atop of your shoulder and leaned you towards him to whisper in your ear: “come to me tonight. I'll be waiting for you.”

There was something so luxurious and cooling about his voice; fine silks sitting in the shade during autumn gliding across your bare skin, wrapping your neck, your chest, your nether parts. His voice was a fine, chilly mist after the first rains in spring which felt refreshing and new after a glacial winter, yet still had capacity to soak you to the bone. It was a nighttime breeze caressing your cheek, sweeping through the hairs of your scalp, making your skin burst all over with bumps.

“I don't like the way he looks at you,” said your father with a mouthful of porridge you'd seasoned with herbs of the season. It was wonderfully fragrant and warm during nights that were still a bit too uncomfortable to sip anything cold. “He looks at you like you're a slab of meat! Some prize after a hunt. I don't like him, love. Not one bit. You'd do well to stay to mind yourself and do your chores and nothing else, y’hear?”

After dinner, you cleaned up, swept the floors with hard bristles, and snuffed all the lights except for the fireplace where your father sat in his old chair, fiddling with his favorite pistol.

“It's time for bed, old man.” You watched him fit a couple of small bullets into the loading chamber. They glinted against the orange flames. “Goodness. What have you gotten this time? Something new?"

“Aye!” he grinned, nearly toothless and in a sickly sort of way. “Went to market the other day while the nuns bullied you and picked out some fine bullets from the silversmith,” he cracked the two halves of the pistol shut. “Better to be prepared.”

You waited until sometime later once he was finally asleep, possibly after midnight, before leaving the humble cottage sitting on the fringes of the massive monastery yard and rushing across the grounds to get inside.

Once, they'd kept a guard dog on the property, one of those meaner breeds that were used for gambling, but the poor thing wound up shot dead in the middle of the night by a traveling friar who'd come to seek refuge at the monastery. The sisters, and yourself, were horribly distraught by the entire ordeal and all vetoed the consideration of bringing another dog here.

Since then, it was no task for you (or anyone else) to get inside the building and shuffle along the shadows through the corridors. At night, the place stirred with patient insects, feral rodents large and small in the pantry, and hungry owls tamely whining from the rafters when something startled them away from their hunt of vermin.

Your feet were a light sound on the masonry below, padded by thin leather soles which alerted you to your enthusiasm as the thwap thwap thwap became louder, aggressive as you closed in on a wall and turned down another hallway for a sturdy wood door at the end of it.

As your knuckles rapped, hoping the sound wouldn't disturb the animals’ nighttime caroling, a swift darkness moved across the floor from behind the door, briefly blocking out the soft light seeping out from underneath.

The next moment, you were being pulled inside and sat at a small table tucked to the side of Father Shaw’s rather generous room. It was a simple space, sparsely furnished for the barest of comforts—only for what was needed to live—but what had been made for him was of exquisite craftsmanship, some made of teakwood, which Shaw assured you was remarkably durable and highly resistant to rotting.

“It's wonderful for boats,” he said, pouring a light amber colored brew from a metal kettle he'd heated a short while ago. “It’s good for all elements, really. Exceptional longevity. I've heard it has become a popular option in the city for burying the deceased.”

“Will Father Marius be buried in a teakwood coffin, then?” you asked, sipping politely from the cup even though you had no appetite for it. You already felt ill at ease enough having disobeyed your father by sneaking into a priest's personal chambers at night. The things the sisters would say about you—

“He will be entombed underneath the monastery with the rest who have served here and passed. I believe that is all stone down there, my dear.” Father Shaw smiled tepidly, kettle aside, no tea of his own. “But, I know that your curiosity led you here to me with questions, yes? About the state I found Father Marius in, yes?”

You tried to disguise your intrigue by drinking more of the tea, of whatever it was he had given you, and listened to the sounds of your fingertips sticking to the porcelain from sweat and steam.

“If you wouldn't mind sharing…”

“I wouldn't!” he leaned on his arms on the table, closer towards you as though with a secret. “As I've said, you are truly the only soul here who I can confide in. You are not a sheep. And you do not fear sin as the rest do. So, you can ask me anything and I'll tell you everything.”

“Tell me about Father Marius, then.”

Father Shaw reached across the table for one of your hands; his far larger, fingers much longer and colder than your own and held it as he recounted the event.

“Dreadful sight, it was. It was, oh, perhaps sometime after three o'clock when I heard a massive racket. A struggle. When I knocked, all of the noise subsided at once and there was complete stillness. Silence, my dear, silence so deep, dark, and damning that I knew something awful had happened

“I didn't knock again, I was too afraid to! But, Father Marius was getting on in age, so I couldn't just stand by, either. I kicked the door in—just once was all it took—and I rushed inside to see the room was a complete mess. A fight had clearly taken place, and the walls—oh, the walls—”

His remorse was carefully placed, stiff, and uncertain and he couldn't be seen in the vastness of his black gaze. You were moved by the vulnerability he was trying to show you, going as far to abandon your drink to place your warm hand on top of his.

“The walls, my dear, were a mess of blood. Something vicious and awful had happened in that room. But, then, I found Father Marius lying there on the ground next to a broken window. I think he'd tried to throw himself through it. His face was shredded to pieces, his eyes gouged. When I got closer, I noticed that his tongue had been severed from his head!”

You were holding Father Shaw’s hands in a bloodless grip, face ashen, teeth chattering behind your lips. “What on earth! That is not only horror, but cruelty!”

“Oh, my love, it gets worse!” Father Shaw held you mesmerized in his gaze, the conviction and anguish with which he told his story. “Closer still, Father Marius’ face was locked in one of pure terror, I've—I’ve never seen a human react in quite a way such as that before, to fear. The man unhinged his own jaw in a hideous scream, and it seemed to me he was skeletal. By that, it's like he was, well, quite dry.

“So, I crouched down so much lower and inspected him all over. Do you want to know what I found?”

“Yes.” You spoke breathlessly.

Father Shaw had moved out of his seat and was on one knee in front of you, both of his frigid hands on your face to smooth across your cheeks, pushing away pieces of hair obscuring some part of you he'd wanted to see.

“My love, I saw marks in his neck. Two, beautifully, wonderfully symmetrical marks that were far too clean to be of any animal that we know of. The bite was clean, it was patient and cunning. And the fangs that had sunk into his tender flesh had drained him of blood, of the very essence that kept his heart beating until the very last.”

“Sir—” your stomach plummeted, falling forever, when he smiled, teeth longer than any humans should be shown through to you. He wouldn't let you go when you went to move out of his hands, away from him. “Father Shaw, please—”

“I wish you could have seen it, my love. It was a breathtaking sight and I long for someone else to admire the beauty of my work alongside me.”

It was unthinkable that a vampire could walk on these holy grounds and in the bright of day, yet Father Shaw had for countless days. Evil held you sweetly by the cheek and in your hair, kissed you with a corpse’s cold lips, and laved the skin of your skin with a long, serpentine tongue.

“O’, my merciful lord…”

Father Shaw bent your head back with a fistful of hair and spoke from your throat:

“There is no God, only me. Come into the endless night with me, my love.”

a/n; I'm aware this is historically inaccurate as nuns and the priest wouldn't have intermingled like this in a monastery. it's really not that big of a deal lmao.

so, two of the characters from this: father marius and father shaw, actually have been adapted as important side-characters in my upcoming possessed!scholar husband x reader story, which is based in a fictional victorian era.

they're essentially the same characters, just tweaked to fit the narrative of that story!

[belovedivies]

裏 ft. yuika

cw: spoiler alert for yuika's backstory, mentions of typical-canon violence and death, emotional manipulation, suicidal thoughts, general bad vibes. pre-simon arc, implied kageo/yuika. masterlist

Sometimes, Yuika wondered what life would have been like if her whole clan hadn't been eradicated.

She's not delusional enough to think it would be a fairy-tale happy ending or anything. Ever since her childhood, those days weren't an easy path filled with sunshine and rainbows that people loved to sing praises about: a fuck ton of rules to obey as the future heiress, long indoor training hours until her heart threatened to stop, and maybe candy for a treat on rare occasions because, for all the wealth her Wandering Ghost Blade clan had had, she couldn't afford the luxury of simply being a kid.

It's no fun for a girl like her. Soft hands, big smiles, and a head full of ideas—all Yuika ever wanted was someone she could talk to. The servants would brush her hair, draping her body in the finest silk on every birthday as Yuika browsed through an array of perfumes expensive enough to feed an entire nation of starving people. What started as a delight that her muted world had gained some temporary vibrant colors soon became another burgeoning monotony. When those bottles filled up a whole room and her maids' comments felt more like bittering jabs than they were applauds, the cheerful child in Yuika also died a little.

But at least she still has her mother.

Kageo, too. The two people who made her feel like an actual person somewhat rather than a statue on a pedestal. They just didn't have the chance to be around that much in the past, and sadly so was she. Day-in and day-out etiquette lessons and sword practices ensured that none of her time could be wasted on mundane interactions. Her uncle was a strict man, and for years, Yuika was stuck in this confusing loop of thanking the man for what he had done for the clan when her father couldn't, resenting him for the way he had treated Kageo, and fearing that one day he might turn his back against the ones he called family. Still, he did what he had to do for her and the clan. Even until his dying breath, the old man had only wanted the best for Yuika.

But what had she wanted for herself?

What if there hadn't been a firelit graveyard filled with rotting, gas-filled corpses that Kageo had carried her away from on that fateful night, but a cozy lawn in the summer moonlight?

Deep within the mansion, tucked safely underneath the futon's duvet, Yuika would sleep like a baby. Her duties wouldn't be any less daunting, her people wouldn't look at her as anything but a pretty doll on display, and her life would still be laid out for her.

But maybe…

Maybe she could spend more time with her mother. Flashed her doe eyes and begged hard enough so that she would let her sweet girl tag along for afternoon tea. Yuika missed her gentle touches; how she wanted to sit on her mother's lap and hear the woman talk about her day again, just once more.

Maybe, with some effort and miracle, she could convince her austere old uncle to mellow out a little. He shouldn't be so harsh on people for things they couldn't control. Yuika used to wish he would see how unfair he was and how it would be so much better if he stopped viewing everyone outside the clan as a threat.

Maybe she could finally talk to Kageo without risking him another brutal beating.

Maybe she could have been more than a husk filled with vengeance and hatred.

Maybe she could be normal.

But her whole family was dead; her hands were soaked in the blood of two thousand individuals and counting; her name and Kageo's plastered all over Japan and the FBI's warrant.

Sometimes, Yuika wondered if she regretted the person she had become.

Maybe she did.

—

The second time Yuika thought about it rationally, her heart in her throat and your hands on her shoulders, she realized that she hated this life too.

It's fine. At least they weren't on the run anymore; one week after Raphael took the pair of street rats in and gifted them a fancy ship. Kageo was out discussing whatever with the new boss, but Yuika couldn't be bothered. All the time wasted on revenge, all the things she wanted to say to him had turned into her barely saying anything meaningful at all. A hundred miles away from land on the Ghost Cruise, Yuika heard the waves and saw the barely-there ray of a distant lighthouse through the window; your fingers carded through her hair, the phantom of a caress.

"How's Yuu-chan settling in, hmm?" you chirp. "Is everything to your liking?"

Glory Club seemed to have a penchant for idiosyncrasy, she thought. Both in the way this place functioned and how its subjects were treated. She wasn't complaining; she finally got a place to stay and a large tub to relax in, sprinkled with a few drops of lavender oil and rose petals. Yuika reeled her mind back to reality, letting out a small chuckle of her own when your fingers curled around a lock of her hair with more force than needed.

"Everything's perfect," she said, wetting her tongue when she remembered she had one. "Kageo and I would like to thank you again for your kindness."

Your grip loosened instantly as you let out a giggle, each titter cutting the back of Yuika's skull like a sharp blade. "Raphael's kindness," your jollity was still there, fingertips massaging the shampoo into her scalp. "But I'm glad; you're definitely looking better than you were last week, Yuu-chan!"

She allowed herself a humorless smile. "Do I?"

"Of course!" another enthusiastic remark. When your thumbs grazed the back of her neck, Yuika briefly wondered how many lives those hands had taken. "Your hair feels softer now, your eye bags are gone, and even your mood seems to increase too— well, you killed two of my brother's underlings today, but that's okay! Yuu-chan is happy, right?"

Because she was finally home.

In some ways, she hadn't changed at all. Yuika wasn't any less scared or clueless than the girl she had been thirteen years ago on that stormy night, rushing through the villa barefoot to reach her mother's chamber. She opened up to you almost too easily, finding solace in your touch like a bear that had been melted into butter. You reminded her of the woman so much; it's weird. It's so fucking weird. You're so fucking weird. Who the fuck invited someone they barely knew for a bath?

There was this sudden, crushing silence, save for the sound of water sloshing as you rinsed her hair. Yuika pursed her lips—neither a yes or no to your earlier query—and said your name. Quietly. Hesitantly. Like she was the one giving the question instead.

But you pressed closer, every inch of your front touching her back, and somehow, somehow Yuika already knew your answer before you even voiced it out.

"Hmm? What is it, Yuu-chan?"

"Why us?"

Why chose them?

Why brought them in and showered them in benignity?

She shouldn't be thinking this much, but you nuzzled into the junction where her neck met her shoulders; hands circling her waist underneath the water like a mother's embrace on a winter eve; smile imprinting her skin like an uncle's rare approval; eyes packed with a loving warmth like the daisies her and Kageo smelt that July noon in the bamboo trail behind the clan, and Yuika wanted to curl up and die, just a little bit.

"Yuu-chan, let me say this."

She let you.

"I remember when you first came in," you traced some unknown, asinine shapes on her stomach. "Tired, hopeless, and burnt out. You were a shell," the motion stopped as your hands left her midriff to dance spider-quick up her arms. "Barely eating, barely sleeping."

She was barely even alive when Kageo dragged her sorry ass from whatever shitty motel they hid in all the way to Korea.

"Who took you in? Who helped you?"

Kageo, I'm hungry. Where are we gonna go? We killed them; we killed them all. I didn't fucking choose this life. I never wanted us to be fugitives. You should just leave me be. Kageo, Kageo! I heard the sirens—

"Y-You," Yuika choked out, the gentle waves on the side of the ship ringing like a thousand agonizing screams in her ears. "You helped us."

"Raphael helped you." you corrected her, softly. Hands resting on her shoulders like the starting point of a never-ending game. "Because?"

"We need him."

"And?"

"He needs us."

"To?"

"Kill Peter."

"That's right," you patted her shoulders, then her hair. Each digit rubbed against her scalp as if nothing was amiss. As if they weren't on a giant cruise in the middle of the ocean, and Yuika wasn't trembling with the weight of her existence.

When she stilted, you giggled. Louder this time. "You're very talented, Yuu-chan," squeezed her. "But you're too soft; you don't belong in this world."

Not when the guilt of what she did still shadowed her.

Not when the gore and carnage wore her skin and burnt into her flesh.

Yuika couldn't learn to love the danger this line of work brought if what actively kept her alive now was the thought that one day she would get away from it.

"Shh," you cooed, smoothing out her still-damp hair before she could muster the strength to weep. "I know, Yuu-chan. You're not here to stay. Do your part well, and you can leave. Both of you."

"I," Yuika gritted her teeth. "But I did so many unforgivable things—"

"I've done far worse." the girl almost flinched when you tugged sharply on her hair, but instead of sharp pain, there was this fuzzy, suffocating warmth spreading down her spine. "So don't think too much, okay?" you continued, chiding her with an amused laugh. "Silly Yuu-chan," a soft sigh left your lips. "You deserve happiness too!"

"I… I do?" she mutters, small and helpless.

"I wouldn't think otherwise," another chuckle. The water rippled and splashed around them as she felt you stand up, followed by a cheerful, "Let's go; those two might be back soon." that strangely, anomalously brought a wry curl to her lips.

But when Yuika turned her head around, you weren't smiling at her.

taglist: @yaoduriaa @anjeliquesworld @crazycatwithscissors @i-anoobis-i @galaxyquirks @poppytartt @funsizedlaziness @missroro @hot-mexican-rat @hdstudio-045 @jaazoldyck @izzatune

[faewrenbird]

Homicipher Theory

Mr. Hood: The Dishonored Samurai

Don’t turn your nose up yet, hear me out. Maybe it’s a stretch, maybe it makes sense, maybe it’s just a damn good (or delusional) headcanon, you decide.

Homicipher/Mr. Hood Route Spoilers Below!!!!

I established in an earlier theory that the “Ghost Apartments” is a pocket of the spirit realm on haunted grounds where a hospital and subway line were once located but destroyed in an earthquake, after which, an apartment building was built and then abandoned.

But I have a theory that the history of the haunted grounds goes even further back. Perhaps as far as Edo-era feudal Japan. Why? I’m inclined to believe that Mr. Crawling is from that era, but that’s a whole different theory I still need to mull over.

Suppose it’s true—that the cursed land that has accumulated hundreds of vengeful and lost spirits became haunted hundreds of years ago. Perhaps, it became cursed and haunted due to war in this time period. Whatever the case, operating under the premise that its history is this old, I want to take a look at helpful Mr. Hood.

Mr. Hood

He’s the first face we see after waking up in the spirit realm (not counting our startling run-in with Mr. Crawling). You could consider him our Toriel. He gives us the basics, enough info, or lack thereof, to begin our exploration. He tries to teach us some words: light, dark, sound, door, not, maybe “container” if we’re smart. We take this knowledge, leave him in the room behind us, and proceed to immediately get our hearts eaten by Mr. Gap.

But who, or what, is Mr. Hood?

The only thing we learn about him from our brief introduction is that he’s a man of few words, mysterious, monotone, and he’s…literally just a guy in a hood. Oh, and he’s got a big fuck-off axe for seemingly no reason at all.

From what I’ve played of the game so far, it seems we’re unlikely to ever see him again unless some really bizarre and specific conditions are met.

If those conditions are met, we wind up being Alice-in-Wonderlanded into a miniature version of ourselves, and Mr Hood makes an unexpected appearance to help us try to find the magical potion to make us normal again.

During our adventure with him, we…don’t learn much. Kind of the ongoing theme of this game, actually. Get used to perpetually knowing nothing and being confused by what you do know.

We do learn a few key things, though.

First, man has a deft hand with an axe. In fact, he can flawlessly execute any ghost he deems to be a threat, without a moment’s hesitation, and with the badassery to act totally calm and say only “they’re dead” when you interrogate him about it.

Second, there’s nothing under the hood. After escaping a brutal entity, he sits with his hood pulled back, revealing nothingness. Unlike the Bride, though, he prefers to mask this feature. When we comment on his lack of a head, he quickly pulls the hood back up.

Third, he has a body. Although lacking a head, we know that there’s something solid under the cloak, because he hides us in it and we comment on the err…texture of his insides(?).

Fourth, he is some kind of executioner. This is perfectly apparent design-wise. Hooded and carrying a massive axe that he employs with perfect ease. Some speculation, but he seems to specifically serve the purpose of executioner in this land of ghosts. He’s very adept at detecting a threat and differentiating between good and evil (wish the same could be said for our himbo-brained Mr. Crawling, but I digress). In fact, while we're taking a nap, he evidently leaves to a different room to hunt and kill another ghost.

Fifth, he goes where he’s needed. He comes off as someone strictly bound by his duty. At least, this is what I infer rather than him being a wandering spirit in these halls. It’s why, when we’re reunited with Mr. Crawling and the others, Mr. Hood leaves us. We don’t need him anymore, and he can’t accept that we want him with us just because we like him. In fact, he tells us not to say things like that, or depending on your interpretation, that he has nothing to say to that before he abandons us.

So, what does this all mean (apart from making him the sexiest and most mysterious hooded figure I’ve ever known cough)?

My theory is that, in life, Mr. Hood was a samurai who committed some great treason and thus endured the ritual of hara-kiri (seppuku) for his execution.

Hara-kiri was a form of ritualistic suicide where a samurai would take a blade and slice open his stomach, after which, an executioner would decapitate him. An honorable death was when the executioner left just a bit of the criminal’s neck during the slice, not quite severing it completely. A dishonorable death meant the whole head came off, which was embarrassing for the deceased samurai and his family.

If Mr. Hood was a samurai, his prowess with a weapon and calculating attitude towards fulfilling his duty and cutting down enemies makes a lot of sense.

If he was a dishonored samurai, then his reclusive manner and the shame of having no head also makes sense. Not that I think the ghosts retain memories of their life (Mr Gap excluded), but he could be carrying residual shame and dishonor from his death. He could be forever trapped trying to repent for his sins by executing evil, to make up for whatever treason he committed.

I think it’s further evidenced by our description of his insides. Slimy. It’s a grotesque thought, but if we’re being held against a gutted and sliced open stomach, this description makes sense, too.

Additionally, the shame and self-loathing would help explain why he rejects our confession of affection towards him. He’s not worthy of that affection, nor of companionship. He can’t even fathom our interest in him.

(Edit: some below translations aren’t great, I’m still ironing them out. As I’ve seen now, the best translations show us saying “Love you,” and Mr. Hood replying with “not understand,” indicating her can’t grasp our love for him, which still lines up with everything I said!)

I personally am really obsessed with this concept and have adopted it as my headcanon because I think it makes it all the sweeter when he comes back to save us and decides to carry us for all eternity (which, btw, I squealed when I realized that we were no longer small when he picked us up with this objective in mind, so we’re spending our afterlife being bridal-style carried by this man). We are, after all, the first person to care for him since his humiliating death. The first person to like him. The first person to give him purpose beyond routine and mindless execution of dark spirits. We give him a new duty, something to protect and cherish.

And idc what you say, that’s goddamn romantic for this vaguely romantic horror game.

[higuchisora]

No one has any clue what the fuck the Firelights actually Do so I'm gonna dump my headcanon here as the official lore in continuation of my saga of Zaun headcanons.

The Firelights are basically like a nonprofit organization with a Robin Hood twist. Their mission is to be a stabilizing force in Zaun, trying to do whatever they can to take care of both each other and their people. Since they aren't an actual nonprofit, and Piltover doesn't give a damn about human rights, this is where the Robin Hood stuff comes in.

They have to gain their resources (food, water, medicine, etc.) Via theft. So they tend to rob Piltie ships. They try to avoid the foreign ones just to lower the risk of backlash (the foreign governments putting pressure on Piltover to crack down on them, etc.), but they'll do what they believe is necessary to get supplies (and also sometimes mistakes just happen).

They're not above violence, but they do try not to kill people just because they know it can get messy with Piltover if they do. That being said, I believe they probably have killed a few, at the very least on accident. Fights can be brutal, especially if your opponent isn't holding back like you are.

Another thing: their masks aren't just to hide their identities from their enemies. The reality is, things can happen. If they started walking around bare-faced in Zaun, it would be easy for other Zaunites to identify them and possibly give them up (whether to Silco or enforcers or whoever). So they wear them til they're back in their hideout.

The Firelights try not to operate in Zaun beyond distributing supplies or fighting Silco. This is to both prevent their identities being leaked and because they never want to be seen as a "policing" force in their own home. The last thing Ekko wants is to see his own people as "others" or "suspects". Yes, the Firelights are his family, so he seeks to protect them. But Zaun is his home, the Zaunites are his people. He IS a Zaunite, just as all the Firelights are. And he never wants any of them to forget that.

As for who he DOES fight in Zaun: in season 1, Silco is at the top of that list. However, I feel like they probably have other enemies too, even if Silco is the biggest fish (as de facto leader of Zaun at the time). The Firelights have been around (by act 2 s1) for seemingly a few years at that point. It's entirely believable they'd ruffle some feathers along the way. Perhaps a few gang leaders/drug lords (the type to either follow Silco or be desperate to usurp him) who think taking the Firelights out would be the next step towards their goals. Other enemies might include of Silco's allied chembarons and anyone who tries to attack their deliveries.

Distribution of supplies: after robbing a Piltie ship, they'd take stock of whatever they got and send anything they can spare to a connection of theirs in the rest of Zaun. I'd imagine (since they don't seem to have hospitals) to an orphanage of some kind. So, food, clothes, medical supplies, etc. Basically anything a trading ship might have that would be useful to people.

If they snag loot that happens to not be immediately useful (nonessentials like jewelry or knick-knacks or something) they'll either try to repurpose/upcycle it or they'll sell it and use the money to either buy those supplies or put towards projects (such as building tech) to help their mission.

My musings are only half fleshed out and I'm really expanding most of this on the fly as I write it. But I do like to explore the possibility that they're not as sunshine and rainbows as they might seem in their rare moments in canon (and in my post so far).

Less sunny ideas under the cut:

I saw a clip from s1 the other day of a scene that I totally forgot about. When Caitlyn first tells Ekko about the Hexcore, his first thought is about what they (he) can do with it. Namely, as a weapon. Against Silco.

And yes, his traumatizing childhood punctuated by Silco basically coming in and fucking his life up out of nowhere DOES mean it makes sense that Silco is Enemy Number One in Ekko's eyes, arguably even more than Piltover. (Because Piltover ruined the world around him, but Silco might as well have personally walked in and shot everyone he loves right in front of him. Silco IS the villain of Ekko's story, arguably more than anyone else). THAT BEING SAID, he's expressed anti-Piltover sentiments since basically the first time we meet him. So what if Silco telling Marcus to paint the Firelights as terrorists... isn't entirely baseless?

When I say terrorists of course, I really only mean to Piltover. Actual terrorists exist, but many revolutionaries are also painted as terrorists. Silco saying this and giving the bomb as "evidence" isn't just him "being evil", it MAKES SENSE because that's probably already what Piltover would think even without the fake evidence. So what if the Firelights WERE planning to attack Piltover at some point?

Maybe not the same way Silco was. At the end of the day, his whole thing is being calculating (he's also got more life experience than Ekko, who's the same age as his daughter). So Silco definitely thought through Zaun's independence plan waayyy more than Ekko has (whether or not the plan is a good one is notwithstanding, stay focused here). So maybe the Firelights kinda have this plan to like. Destroy Piltover.

Not with bombs, but to be fair, Ekko IS a smart techy guy. He's not into grenades like Jinx, but he did make those hoverboards. He designed the fans to be able to withstand the thick air in Zaun. So what if he's generally just really familiar with the ventilation system? What if he was planning on doing something similar to what happened in Season 2 (redirecting the air to Piltover), but like, worse? Maybe he'd make it so the air system was permanently pushing the Grey into Topside, and maybe he even wanted to put something else in it? Give them a taste of their own chemical warfare? It would take years to do, and might be his end goal, but really, what else would someone who's been radicalized by oppression, who's filled with all this pain and anger, who has so much innovative skill - what else would someone like that do? Lay down and take it? Considering he made the Firelights... I don't think so.

Obviously I don't think he was actually planning on doing this; I don't think they thought him or the Firelights through at all. But he's expressed interest in violence before, and he's also anti-Piltover, so I figure he has to do SOMETHING with his anger (and also as much as I love him, being that squeaky clean and perfect of a character is.... suspicious to me. Or at least not as interesting. You can't live in a world so unforgiving and come out unstained, especially with all that- understandable- anger in him). He clearly wants peace, in whatever way he can (hence he wanted to give the Hexcore to the council himself; likely to bargain for benefits for Zaun). He's hopeful, but I don't think he's necessarily naive about it. He knows that they're most likely never going to just hand it to them- or else they would've done that already. So just in case, he has a plan to take it for himself.

[courtkossai]

sort of funny to see people move goalposts … is physical nonhumanity this community of only abusers and cultists , or of only poor delusional victims ? is there some way to tell which one is which , or is this just base on whichever idea is more convenient to make point ?

is " these people should not get to have autonomy " really some grand , leftist , anti-ableist take ? is removal of autonomy , force of medications and treatments no matter opinion , really protection - or just another cruelty ?

is " people here want to hurt and want to isolate " actually useful if talk to communities where folks - though not all , depend on communities in question - have delusions and paranoia already ?

is there chance that attempts to undermine and take down open communities - like these ones on tumblr - is part of why closed communities away from tumblr , away from large social media sites , down in private groups and secret forums , can do so much harm ?

folks will still seek out words and spaces for these experiences , no matter what . no matter if say impossible , no matter if say horrible delusion .

main difference is whether these spaces will be safe or not - whether members of community will be able to demonstrate safety , or have no interest in demonstrate safety . collectively kossai make point to post about discernment , ability to tell if something is shift or crisis , and that to look out for distress and risk of danger is important .

but just as much , can not control others , can not make choices for others . if someone reject medications for psychosis , then there is very often good reason - these can be brutal with little gain , therefore not worth time , money , or effort to continue . likewise , some people will find positive effects of medications outweigh negatives . both is in fact entirely fair , and both deserve right to give those answers without coercion , threat , or force .

and if someone reject framework of psychosis and schizophrenia entirely , if explain by means of religion , family history and folklore , or really anything else , then that is just as fair . even if this answer is wrong . sometimes folks get answers wrong and might end up hurt for that , in any community . that is what disability world call dignity of risk - to over-shelter will not actually help .

everyone need community of some kind . if goal is protection , then leave these communities alone . to try to shut down open communities will only drive into worse . if answer is wrong , if community is wrong place to be , then realistically only time and fellow community members can help to figure that out .

sorry about that saviour fantasy . go put those efforts into actually talk to folks and learn what need , learn about lives and experiences .

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 8

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7)

Oof. This took me way longer than planned. Partly, because I had some uni assignments to work on and partly, because I went home the weekend after episode 8 dropped and ended up binging the entirety of Star in My Mind with my mother. On her request, btw. Who am I to say no to my mother when she wants to watch a JoongDunk show for the 3rd time together. I actually meant to upload it a day or two ago, but then I kept realizing and noticing and remembering details that I really wanted to add, some of which were also language related, so I then needed to check with my Thai language correspondents which also took some time as I waited for their replies.

But here it finally is! I know in my last meta I said it was my longest one yet, but this one's even longer, actually. Watch my metas hit 20k words by the end of the series lmao. Anyway, enjoy. And apologies in advance if my ep9 meta is also late, since I had to finish this one first. I promise I'll try my best to get it done before ep10 <3

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise.

To recap: So Fadel and Bison found out. Fadel and Bison are mad. Fadel and Bison want to kill Kant and Style. Style was drugged, kidnapped, found himself tied up at a pool staring down the barrel of his own boyfriend's gun, survived, and then drove off into the sunset, uh, I mean went on a little road trip in search of his best friend and his boyfriend's brother/best friend's boyfriend. As bleak as things may seem with Style being back at square one with the added challenge that Fadel now actively wants to kill him, this, at the same time, may be one of the best things that has ever happened to Style, because finally everything is out in the open. Style no longer has any secrets to keep (except for the deal with the car) and he can finally be brutally honest in everything he says and everything he does.

No. 1: Midnight Mote– Oh Wait Wrong Show

We meet them as they're pulling into the parking lot of a motel. Since it seems to be pretty late at night, I think it's fairly safe to assume that they were driving all day, likely non-stop. The first thing out of Style's mouth is a horny line. "Why are we at a motel? Did you get turned on while we were on the way or what?" And just from that line alone we can actually see how far he's come since the beginning of the series and how far he's come in his feelings for Fadel too. Remember my first few metas about the first few episodes of the show and how I would go into whether Style really meant his flirty comment or not? I don't think in this moment Style was actually trying to seduce Fadel (we know how he acts when he does want to seduce him and we'll even get to see an example of it in a bit when they're in the room), but it's still very different from his flirty/horny comments in the first couple of episodes in the series where he also wasn't really genuinely trying to seduce Fadel. Back then, a lot of his comments were very loud in a performative kind of way, as if he was saying them for an audience, not because he actually meant what he said. This one here? There is absolutely none of that loud, performative energy to be found. No, Style makes this comment very casually, almost matter-of-factly even as if he's asking something like So, what do you want for dinner tonight?

It's no longer a performance to him. In fact, he's quite serious about it and while it was an offhanded rhetorical question, it still almost sounds like an honest question. The flirting is no longer a joke to Style the way it was in the first three episodes of the series. He genuinely wants to know. But Fadel shuts him down and orders him to get out of the car. Style is a bit annoyed at the dismissal, but by now he's also used to it. After all, he did spent 4 episodes doing nothing but hitting one wall after the other. And just like back then, he won't let Fadel shake him off that easily. So Style complains: "I’m just curious so I know what to expect. It’s not like I can just turn the switch on, you know?" Again, this is not a performance. In fact, this time around, he's even more serious than compared his comment before. He may not be planning on actively seducing Fadel right here right now in the car, but who is Style to say no if the opportunity to sleep with Fadel arises? For Style, sleeping with Fadel is absolutely on the table if Fadel makes the offer. And so Style lets him know. "I’m just curious so I know what to expect." Will you be sleeping with me? Are you planning on sleeping with me?

Fadel takes a moment to reply and there is an interesting expression on Style's face as he waits for an answer:

Style is watching him carefully, really observing Fadel's face. He's done this before when he's hit Fadel with a flirty or suggestive line, but where before his expression would always be one of excitement or amusement or curiosity or sometimes even smugness, this time it's completely serious. It's almost as if Style is searching for something. But searching for what?

As I mentioned above, I don't think Style is actively trying to seduce Fadel here. I think he's more testing the waters. Because while yes, Fadel has slept with him before and yes, Fadel is in love with him and Style knows it (he will later confirm it for himself at the end of the episode), the problem is that Fadel is also very pissed at him right now and is actively planning to kill him, has actively tried to kill him only hours ago, actually. If that doesn't send confusing signals, then I don't even know anymore. And so Style needs to figure out where exactly he stands with Fadel right now – that's what Style is searching for when he's staring at Fadel. He's trying to see how far Fadel has pushed him away now that the lies have come to light, is trying to find out how close Fadel will let him come now that Fadel has calmed down a bit from his tantrum at the pool. Will Fadel let Style get close enough again to maybe even be willing to sleep with him like before? Is their relationship maybe not in ruins yet? Has Fadel's anger faded enough? Does Style still have a chance with him? Is there a chance they can go back to the happiness they shared before all hell broke loose? This matters to Style and it matters a lot. And so he tries to look for the answers in Fadel's face as he waits for Fadel's reply. And after a moment, Fadel lifts his gun and hits him with:

I didn't take you here to sleep with you. กูไม่ได้พามึงมาเอาเนาะ [guu mâi dâai paa mueng maa ao nó] I - not - take - you - come - sleep with - [particle] Official subs: I’m not sleeping with you.

Sex is not the purpose for which Fadel made Style drive to a motel of all places. Fadel informs Style that this is where he's meeting Bison and repeats his order for Style to get out of the car. Style actually stares at Fadel for a second before he reacts:

This is the second right before Style turns his head and says he'll wait. And again I think this is him taking in Fadel's response and his brain working out where exactly Fadel has put him now. That's important info for Style to know. Style needs to understand where exactly he stands, because he needs to find out how much distance precisely it is that he has to overcome so that he can figure out a way to overcome that distance. Because Style doesn't want there to be any distance between the two of them at all. But Fadel clearly won't let Style get anywhere close right now. So Style turns his head and announces that he'll be waiting in the car. He's not in the mood to follow along, Fadel is a big boy and can go and get his brother by himself. Fadel, however, isn't in the mood to play either. He points his gun at Style's head again and tells him no. Style will not be waiting in the car. Style looks severely unimpressed.

Fadel orders Style to follow him, and in fact, not just to follow Fadel but walk in front of him, actually, thank you very much. And yes, Fadel does literally say "follow me", not "come along":

ตามกูมา [dtaam - guu - maa] follow - me - come Official subs: You come with me.

As a translation student I think it's a shame the translator didn't stick to a literal translation here, because I think it's pretty funny how Fadel is all "follow me" at first until he remembers that "following" implies walking behind someone and then changes his mind and tells Style to take the lead instead so that Fadel can actually keep an eye on him and threaten him with his gun if need may be. With Fadel ordering Style to walk behind him at first, I think it highlights his unspoken threat of "Walk in front of me (where I can see you)" even more and it's a shame the translator removed that. But despite the threat, Style just continues to be unimpressed. In fact, Fadel is really starting to get on Style's nerves now. And so he rolls his eyes and sighs the biggest sigh ever to make sure Fadel really can't miss how Style feels about this, how he feels about getting out of that car, how he feels about Fadel bossing him around and threatening him and waving a gun in his face.

Style is so fucking done with Fadel's stupid fucking act. And Style knows it's an act, he knows Fadel won't be killing him. At least not any time soon. And especially not right here in the parking lot of this motel. Fadel steps out of the car and Style watches him, then shakes his head, annoyed, before he follows Fadel's lead and gets out of the car as well.

They make their way towards the aunty and Fadel actually does fall behind Style as they walk. Once they reach the aunty, Fadel starts questioning her about Bison. She recognizes Bison on the photo, but hasn't seen him in a while. Aunty is worried and asks if he ran away from home. Style immediately jumps in and comes up with a reasonable story.

@secriden has an interesting thought about this:

[T]he story Style comes up with about why they're looking for a missing person on their own like this (instead of, y'know, going to the police like upright, non-hitman citizens would've) was really good to explain their urgency/frustration and preempt any suspicion so that the auntie is unlikely to report them to the cops. Style is actively, genuinely helping Fadel out and using his excellent skills at playing Asian aunties to full effect for him. Ugh, just look at how earnest and worried Style's expression is!? He totally disarms the auntie while I bet she would've been a lot more suspicious and distrustful if grumpy face on the left had come asking questions alone.

I think this is certainly an aspect of it, but I'm not sure how much of it is Style consciously doing this in order to help Fadel out and to keep the aunty from getting too suspicious and how much of it is Style acting on instinct. Not to mention, part of this is definitely also Style just being a chatty cat, ready to strike up a conversation with anyone who'll listen to him talk. Especially when it involves aunties that he can wrap around his finger with his charm. That is Style's personality after all.

I also love how Style drops the "boyfriend" without a second thought. Because obviously they are still boyfriends. Yes, Fadel drugged him and kidnapped him and pulled a gun on him and nearly killed him but never once did he utter the words "I'm breaking up with you" or "This relationship is over". So of course this relationship is very much still on. Why wouldn't it be?

Though let me just say, I don't think Style necessarily called Fadel his boyfriend deliberately in this moment in the sense of that he is actively trying to send some kind of underlying message to Fadel. I mean, in a way yes, but this boyfriend mention is very casual (as if it's the most self-evident thing in the world) and so I don't think his main goal here is to send some kind of deliberate pointed message along the lines of Do you hear that Fadel, I truly love you and I still consider you my boyfriend to Fadel, because if that were the case, he would have highlighted the word "boyfriend" more. Style will be calling Fadel his boyfriend very deliberately and pointedly later in the episode after a certain confrontation. But for now, this underlying message is more of a side thought.

Aunty asks if the two of them want a room. Style say yes. Fadel says no. Style insists. He's tired and there's no point in continuing their search for Bison right now. Fadel is stubborn. They have to keep going. Style starts getting overdramatic and flaunts his waist. Aunty supports Style. She refers to Style as Fadel's boyfriend. Style throws Fadel a pleased, warm look and raises his eyebrows at him. See? She's on my side. I'm winning this. Fadel says Style isn't his boyfriend. We don't even get to see Style's reaction to that claim, so I guess it couldn't have hit him too hard. Maybe he was even half expecting this sort of reaction with the way Fadel has been pulling back from him and has been rebuilding his walls.

Aunty tells them she'll be putting them in a special room and Fadel doesn't argue. Aunty presents them with lube and a condom. Style throws Fadel an amused and a little smug look.

No. 2: Of Mechanics and Race Car Beds

Fadel is having one of the worst nights of his life. That special room is very much not to his liking. Style, though, loves it. Obviously. Although, I think he also partly says it to be extra nice to the aunty to make up for Fadel being such a grumpy cat and partly as a way to get under Fadel's skin. The "Fast. Hard. Furious." part especially is a direct message to Fadel. Style is being a little shit again in order to get through to Fadel, but what's different now compared to the early episodes is that there is so now much more fondness that comes with it. When he smiles at Fadel afterwards, there is amusement in his expression, but moreover there is so much warmth and affection as well. There's even an air of playful innocence about it like Don't you agree, baby? 😇

The aunty leaves and Style comments on how he's never had sex in a car before (and to those who are calling bullshit on that statement, let me just point out: he said he never had sex in a car, he didn't say anything about never having sex with a car. I mean, we all saw how he touched Kant's car back in episode 1 🤭🤭🤭). Style takes off his shirt, throws it at Fadel, leans onto the windshield of the car and says some very flirty and suggestive things. Fadel finally gets up from his spot in the very last corner of the room, walks up to Style, grabs his hand and leads it down his own body. Then Fadel leans in for a kiss, only to handcuff Style to the bed.

This whole scene is very reminiscent of the kitchen scene at the start of episode 4. In both scenes Style says flirty and suggestive shit with the actual goal of getting into Fadel's pants, in both scenes Style makes a comment about how it's like a sex fantasy (Note: in episode 4 the subs say "wild", but since he is literally saying an English loanword I think you can hear it for yourself and don't need me to spell it out for you in Thai like I usually do), in both scenes Fadel is trying to push Style away, in both scenes Style is also trying to annoy Fadel in some way. And yet both of these scenes go very differently.

In my ep4 meta I discussed why Style genuinely meant all the flirting in the scene and how he was genuinely trying to get into Fadel's pants, but there is one aspect I actually didn't really mention, partly because I was focusing on other things and partly because back then I didn't yet have the comparison of how Style's flirting would be like once they were in an actual relationship and real romantic feelings were involved. I've mentioned before how when Style is saying suggestive things without actually meaning them in the earlier episodes his voice will be louder and his tone much more performative while when he is sincere in his sexual flirting his voice will go more quiet. When Style goes into his whole "I know a guy like you just needs a little nudge" spiel in episode 4 his voice is a lot more quiet than it usually is compared to the insincere flirting which is why (amongst other reasons I discuss in my ep4 meta) I think he definitely meant it, but (and this following part I didn't mention back then) there is something about his tone of voice and also the way he grabs Fadel's crotch in such a rough, unsexy way that makes me think he was also trying to piss Fadel off a bit. It's not just flirting, but it's a challenge too. Because Fadel keeps claiming he didn't miss Style when Style failed to show up at Fadel's usual spots, keeps claiming that Style is a only a bother to him. And so I think, as much as Style was genuinely up for sleeping with Fadel for a second time (the same way something else was, ahem, up that morning when Style awoke from his blissful dream), I think he was also using the chance to try and get under Fadel's skin again, trying to break down Fadel's walls even more, trying to make him admit that he was thinking about Style and that he had grown to like him.

Now in episode 8 Style doesn't need Fadel to admit his feelings anymore. Fadel is his boyfriend already, they've slept together on multiple occasions, and have also gotten to know each other on a deeper emotional level. Yes, Fadel has put his walls back up now that the truth is out, but now Style also knows what lies behind those walls. And so in this scene in the motel room he actively annoys Fadel on purpose, first of all by being flirty in the first place (Style knows exactly that Fadel isn't here to sleep with him since Fadel explicitly told him so when they arrived) and second of all by throwing his shirt at Fadel, which I think is an attempt at kind of connecting to/making contact with Fadel who retreated all the way into the last corner of the room and an attempt at getting some kind of reaction/engagement out of him. And what I've also seen someone note somewhere in the tags is how Style's shirt says "control". Style rids himself of "control" and throws it at Fadel. And we see that in the way he acts.

In the kitchen, even if he let Fadel take the lead once Fadel grabbed his waist and put him onto the table, in the beginning it was still Style who initiated everything, it was Style who moved closer to Fadel and who started touching him. Now in the motel, Style lets Fadel fully be in control from the start. Instead of getting closer to Fadel, Style now stays put exactly where he is. Instead of touching Fadel suggestively as Style did in the kitchen and is generally keen on doing whenever he genuinely wants to get into Fadel's pants he leans on onto the windshield of the car and puts himself on display completely, flaunts himself, offers himself to Fadel in a way that says here I am, take me any time. Style stays put, doesn't touch Fadel, and instead waits as he leaves the choice to engage entirely up to Fadel. Fadel can have him whenever he's ready. Style won't force Fadel before he is ready but he will make sure that Fadel knows loud and clear that Style's offer is here.

Style's tone is also fully grounded and serious now as well as very calm. It's the complete opposite of his loud, showy, performative behavior from the first three episodes when he was trying to "seduce" Fadel and was spewing insincere words. And when he smiles at Fadel, he's kinda amused but there is also so much warmth behind in his expression:

Fadel finally gets up and engages with Style and it's interesting, because back during episode 4 in the kitchen I already thought Style was serious about hooking up with Fadel and it's just so cool to see just how much more serious Style actually gets now that strong romantic feelings are involved. If you watch the kitchen scene from episode 4 and the motel scene from episode 8 back to back you can absolutely tell in which of these scenes Style is full on in love. And what else is interesting is that even though in the kitchen scene from episode 4 Style 10000% means every single thing he says and genuinely wants to hook up with Fadel right then and there, there is still some sort of performative air to his lines when he says "Oh, we’re doing it in the kitchen?" and "Wild. I like it". In episode 4, Style had just found out from the market aunty that his strategy of staying away did have an effect on Fadel, but when Style calls him out on it, Fadel keeps rejecting him and keeps telling him to piss off. And while Style's gut feeling tells him that Fadel does feel something for him, Style doesn't actually know. Because Fadel keeps saying otherwise and keeps pushing him away. But in the kitchen Style genuinely wants something from Fadel and I think when Style makes his comments while Fadel is putting him on the table his words aren't entirely grounded not because he's being insincere, but because he's trying to play it cool. I think he's trying to hide how desperate he is for Fadel to reciprocate his blossoming feelings.

Now in episode 8, though? Style is no longer desperate for it. Sure, Fadel is currently pushing him away again all the time, but it's okay. Because unlike in episode 4, Style now knows for a fact that they're in love. That Fadel is in love with him, too. Fadel is mad at him right now, but that will pass. So when Fadel comes over to (seemingly) go along with Style's seduction, Style doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to anymore. He doesn't have anything to prove anymore. He is confident about their mutual feelings and their relationship now.

Something that both the ep4 kitchen scene and the ep8 motel room scene, and actually also the ep3 storage room scene share is how Style lets Fadel take the lead. Style isn't forcing himself onto Fadel, he sits back and lets Fadel do whatever he wants to do to him.

Fadel grabs Style's hand and leads it down his chest. Style follows with curiosity, looking pleased, clearly happy that Fadel is actually engaging instead of pushing him away and definitely also excited about the prospect of getting some. Fadel leans in for a kiss and Style follows and—

Before Style knows it, Fadel has handcuffed him to the bed. Kissing is off the table, it seems. In episode 4, Style was extremely hurt by Fadel's rejection. Now in episode 8, he's still pretty miffed about it, but he is in no way as hurt as he was that time in the kitchen. Because by now Fadel has done this to him enough times that he's used to it. And also, as I mentioned before, their relationship is on a very different level now. Fadel handcuffs Style and Style is disappointed, but not surprised. Mostly he is just kinda annoyed that Fadel is still keeping up this stupid act. "What the hell? I ain’t running away, you know?"

In episode 4, Style ran off, hurt and humiliated and very enraged. In episode 8, Style stays put. Not that he could have gotten very far even if he had wanted to run off, but Style genuinely doesn't want to. In episode 4, Style spent quite a long time being angry at Fadel for dumping him like that. In episode 8, Style is annoyed for like a second upon realizing what Fadel's plan had been all along, but then he immediately gets over it and meets Fadel with love and warmth instead. Fadel says "I don’t trust you" and Style does talk back, but it's more of an affectionate teasing than an attempt at instigating an actual argument. Style almost smiles at Fadel after he says "And if I need to take a piss?" Fadel lets him know that he will be uncuffing him for that if need may be and Style lowers his gaze. He sees the complementary gifts and playfully starts teasing Fadel about using them. And unlike earlier, I think this time with that kind, warm smile Style is throwing Fadel, Style's comments about chains and whips and using the complimentary gifts weren't actually meant as genuine seduction. No, I think that was Style's way of saying Hey, I'm not upset with you for chaining me to the bed, I'm not holding that against you. But would you please just drop the act and stop pushing me away all the time?

But Fadel grabs his chin and tells no, he will not be dropping the act: "Didn’t you say you’re tired? I bet it’s because you run your mouth too much. Shut up and go to sleep." Style smiles at Fadel again towards the end of Fadel's new rejection, but that smile falls as soon as Fadel walks away.

And I don't think it's because Style is frustrated that he won't be getting laid that evening after all. I think Style is genuinely disappointed that Fadel continues to push him away like that, that Fadel keeps on being stubborn and refusing to communicate and engage with Style no matter how clear Style makes it that he's not holding a grudge about anything that happened that day, from the drugging to the kidnapping to the attempted murder to the blue-balling. And in addition I think Style is also a little hurt that Fadel won't just trust him at least a little bit and hurt that Fadel keeps acting so distant and stand-offish. Style just wants his boyfriend back.

No. 3: Deliver A Message

Now this scene is interesting because it left some people confused from what I've seen. Is Style being serious with his crying or not? Is he playing Fadel? Especially with the upbeat music that was put in the background at the beginning of the scene. There's another reason why I think this particular scene is confusing (and which was the reason why it confused me in the beginning as well), but that's a topic for a whole separate post. (Side note: While I was still working on this meta, I actually ended up getting an anon about this crying scene and sooo this "separate post" might actually follow at some point, even if I hadn't been planning on actually writing it when I was typing the previous sentence. Stay tuned.) I think multiple readings of this scene can co-exist, but for now I just wanna share what I personally think is happening in this scene.

First and foremost let me just say that I don't think Style is necessarily playing Fadel. If anything, he may be playing the drama up a bit like he tends to do, because that's simply just his personality. He has a tendency to be a bit more dramatic then necessary. But even if he is playing it up, I think it absolutely comes from a genuine place. After all, Style is only human and he has had quite an eventful day. Let's recap...

The day started with Style showing up at the hospital, already antsy because he couldn't reach Kant which was worrisome especially in the context of Fadel's threatening warning of "the two of us have business to finish with the two of you" from the night before. So Style shows up at the hospital, only to find out that his best friend was kidnapped by an actual assassin who is very capable of murdering Kant (Style doesn't know Bison as well as he knows Fadel, so Style has no way to tell whether Bison loves Kant enough to spare Kant's life the way Style can tell with Fadel). And immediately after that he gets ambushed and drugged, which absolutely is a traumatizing thing to go through and certainly must have had some effect on Style, if just subconsciously. Then, he finds himself tied up naked at a pool, which again, would generally be a traumatizing situation to find yourself in, especially when someone you know is very capable of taking other people's lives comes and continuously waves a gun into your face. And yes, by now Style knows Fadel pretty well and so he didn't feel too threatened, but Fadel was also really angry and Fadel also did punch Style in the gut that one time when Style was overly confident that Fadel liked him enough not to harm him. And I think, even if on a surface level Style didn't feel too threatened by Fadel (because Style has learned to read him) on a subconscious level the knowledge that Fadel certainly could and would shoot at any moment if he got too angry is still there. And right at the end of that scene there was a point where Style was genuinely scared for his life. Again, that's pretty traumatizing. And then he spent all day in a tight space with someone who is angry at him and keeps pointing a gun on him. And then he got chained again. And got pushed away by his boyfriend over and over again. Style is only human. And it makes complete sense for all the emotions that he repressed while he was playing it cool in order to get through these traumatizing events to come bubbling up to a surface level now at night where he finally gets to rest.

Lying there, in bed, at night, about to fall asleep, his brain is finally not busy with keeping him alive anymore. His brain finally has the time and the opportunity to process everything that has happened in the last 24ish hours. And as he is lying there in bed his brain is probably playing back everything that has happened and is coming up with a lot of "what if" scenarios. What if Fadel had actually killed him at the pool? What if Fadel will actually kill him in the future just like he actually did punch him in the storage room when Style was confident that he wouldn't? Style's death would come with consequences. We've already heard and seen a lot about Style's loving relationship with his dad and it's no wonder Style thinks of him now. Because Style's death would hurt his dad a lot. Style's dad already lost the mother of his son, now he might lose his only son too? The only family member left in his immediate family? If Style does get murdered, he doesn't wanna die without saying goodbye to his dad. And the only person who would be able to deliver that goodbye message is his own murderer.

I don't think Style meant to cry in the beginning. I do think he was fairly serious in the beginning, but I don't think he was planning on crying about it. It's only when he remembers his mother that it triggers the need to cry, only when he suddenly arrives at his own grief and his own trauma about his mother's death that the tears start flowing. And in my opinion those are real, genuine tears. We've seen Style fake-cry before, we know what his performative crying looks like. Style is a terrible fake-crier and we saw this in episode 4 when he showed up at the Rise Up group meeting for the first time and "cried" about his dog. The crying in the motel bed? Is very far from that.

And it's not just us, the viewers, who know what Style's fake crying looks like. Fadel was at that support group meeting too. Fadel also knows how Style fake-cries. And so when Style starts to cry, Fadel can tell the difference. And it has an effect on him. Except he doesn't really know how to deal with this situation, because Style crying hadn't been part of his plans of kidnapping and killing Style, hadn't been part of his plans to push Style as far away again as possible. And so he awkwardly asks "Are you crying?" (I think a different way to phrase this question would also be "You're crying?") And Style replies in honesty: "Duh. I know I talk all big, but even I am afraid of death."

In the last 24ish hours Style got to feel genuine fear for his life and Style doesn't want to die. He is not suicidal. And yes, he is cocky and confident, sometimes overly so and yes, despite all the threats to his life Style simply went about his day as if it's nothing, but as I said, Style still went through a few traumatizing situations in a very short period of time. Of course, it all had an affect on him. Of course part of him would be afraid. Style is human after all. He is human and he is feeling emotions. And he would really need some comfort right now.

Except all he gets is a "stop being dramatic" and an "I don't wanna listen". So Style turns away from Fadel and cries alone in the little corner of privacy he can get in the shared bed that he is currently chained to and can't leave. Style can neither see nor hear nor feel the hand Fadel is reaching out to him, is unaware of just how much Fadel is longing to give him that comfort Style so desperately needs before Fadel's mind wins over his heart and makes him pull back again.

No. 4: Road Trip Time

It's the next day, Style has rested and from what we can see Fadel has also stopped waving a gun into Style's face almost 24/7. Style is clearly having a blast driving through the country. However, the car is tried now and refuses to continue on. Turns out the radiator is broken. Fadel mocks Style for being a bad mechanic and instead of taking offense, Style comes back with sass and a Harry Potter reference and mimics shooting Fadel. Remember the "Style + guns" counter from last episode's meta? I know, I know, here in this case it's supposed to be a wand and not a gun, but especially with the sound effect the whole thing is quite reminiscent of a gun shot, so I'm counting it. Our "Style + guns" counter is now at 4.

There is no phone signal, so they have no way of calling for help. Style tells Fadel off for insisting on taking a short cut and Fadel brings up the police. Style responds: "What are you worrying about? I told you I wouldn’t run. What do I have to do for you to trust me?" Fun fact, his literal wording when he says "What are you worrying about" is actually "What are you afraid of?" or "What are you scared of?":

มึงกลัวอะไรอ่ะ [mueng - gluua - àrai - àh] you - fear, be scared of - what - [particle]

What I love about this is that Style doesn't let Fadel's verbal stabs dampen his good mood too much. He doesn't respond in anger and he's not really annoyed. In fact, when he tells Fadel that he's not running away, he even sounds a bit amused. And when he asks "What do I have to do for you to trust me?", it's not a verbal stab back at Fadel but it's a genuine question. Style honestly wants to know. Fadel tells him "I can no longer trust a single word that comes out of your mouth."

Style smiles and shakes his head in a mix of amusement (because of course Fadel would say that) and exasperation (because Style is getting quite tired of being back at square one and having to go through all the steps again). Style doesn't fight Fadel, though, and instead asks him what he wants to do. However, there is a bit of a bite to his voice, especially in the last sentence when he asks Fadel what he plans to do if now, wait for a car to pass by or what? He patiently waits for Fadel's reply. When Fadel tells Style to push the car, Style is obviously not very into that idea but instead of resisting by starting a fight he starts getting over-dramatic about potentially passing out, about the hot weather, about being hungry and so on. Look how poor I am, have some mercy on me. Fadel is unimpressed. He tells Style to stop whining and reminds him that he currently has just one good hand. Style yields, but not without sassing Fadel first: "I’ll just die of exhaustion before I ever meet your bullet." Fadel brushes past him to get into the driver's seat (I'm assuming to control the wheels of the car while Style is pushing?) and Style walks behind the car and starts pushing while they continue to bicker.

We don't know how long Style was pushing the car for, but it must have been a while because when Style asks for a break, the road is no longer made of asphalt like it was when the car broke down. Fadel doesn't talk back when Style wants to take a break, instead he wordlessly steps out of the car and lets him have it. On the way to the back of the car, Fadel pulls a paper bag and a water bottle out of his backpack and goes to lean against the trunk of the car while taking a sip. Style eyes the water bottle and Fadel notices. After a moment of hesitation, Fadel somewhat begrudgingly holds the water out to Style. Style doesn't immediately take it, but instead throws Fadel a look, checking if Fadel really is letting him have some water. Style only grabs the bottle after Fadel explicitly tells him to take it. Style obeys and immediately starts teasing Fadel: "Thought you’d let me die of thirst. Either a hitman like you still have his humanity, or you’re in love with me." Despite talking big about killing Style and shoving a gun into his face on multiple occasions, Fadel still cares about Style and his well-being and Style knows it. After the teasing words are out of Style's mouth, he attentively observes Fadel's reaction because he also knows Fadel would never admit to this out loud:

While Style is talking, Fadel turns around to grab some food out of the paper bag. When he turns back he makes a face at Style's words, then wordlessly leans back against the trunk again and takes a bite, ignoring Style completely. Style eyes the snack in Fadel's hands. Then he says: "You’re well prepared, huh? To think you packed snacks and drinks."

I personally think that Style wasn't just thirsty, but also hungry. He did do some physical work under the heat of the sun, after all. I think his words were an implicit prompt for Fadel to not just share his water, but also his food. But Fadel doesn't share, he just responds with "I am always well prepared. I have plans for everything". It's kinda funny he's saying this because it's not like Style was even given the chance to prepare for a trip in the first place. It's not like Style showed up at the hospital with a bag full of travel essentials in anticipation of getting kidnapped and going on an impromptu road trip.

Fadel continues with a stab at Style: "If it wasn’t for you and your friend, my brother and I would have had our long-awaited break already." Style almost rolls his eyes. He's so over this. What happened, happened and there's no way to change the past. All you can do is go forward from there. "Let it go. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to the future? Focus on the future. Let go of your grudge. What good would a grudge do—" Style doesn't get further than that because suddenly there is a bun in his mouth. And just in case the message isn't clear enough, Fadel also explicitly tells him to shut up. Style complains about Fadel's methods. "Couldn’t you have been more gentle?" This is actually funnier to me in Thai:

If you want to feed me, you can feed me gently. No need to be so forceful. มึงอยากป้อนมึงป้อนเบาๆ ได้ไม่ต้องแรงเลย [mueng - yàak - bpôn - mueng - bpôn - bao bao - dâai - mâi - dtông - raeng - loiie] you - want - feed - you - feed - gently - can - not - need - harsh - [particle]

The bun did not manage to shut Style up, on the contrary. Style just keeps talking. "I’m getting paranoid, though. We broke down in the middle of the woods. This is just like the beginning of a horror film. A murderer is gonna come after us in a minute." Fadel gently reminds him of his request to shut up: "The first to get murdered would be a yapper like you." Again, I wanna share my own translations of this bickering (Fadel's line specifically), because it amuses me how Fadel is more or less continuing Style's sentence but turns it against him:

S: A murderer will come and kill us any second now. อีกแป๊บนึงก็จะมีฆาตกรมาฆ่าพวกเรา [ìik bpáep nueng - gôh - jà mii - kâat-dtà-gon - maa - kâa - pûuak rao] in a moment - [sentence link] - will be - murderer - come - kill - us F: And will kill a yapper like you first. แล้วก็จะฆ่าคนพูดมากอย่างมึงเป็นคนแรก [láew gôh - jà - kâa - kon pûut mâak - yàang - mueng - bpen kon râek] and - will - kill - person who talks a lot - like - you - as the first person

I think by now everyone's made fun of Style for being afraid of a murderer when there is an actual murderer right by his side, but the thing is, it is quite interesting how fear is becoming a theme for Style this episode, something that @secriden goes into in this post. Something else she also points out is how Style not only worries about getting murdered himself, but also about Fadel getting murdered too:

[I]t's interesting how Style talks about being afraid of dying generally and specifically how harm could come to them from an external source. How the way his fear is orientated puts Fadel on the inside ("a murderer is gonna come after us"), on Style's side and someone Style wants to keep safe. And when Fadel makes the kind of snide joke about letting the hypothetical cannibals kill and cook Style, Style's solution still involves staying by Fadel's side. At no point does he ever stop referring to Fadel and him as a single unit, even after Fadel very explicitly frames Style as the only victim.

In this moment though, Style isn't actually afraid of a hypothetical murderer suddenly jumping out of the woods to kill them both. So when Fadel responds with one of his usual comments that show how much he "dislikes" Style, Style lets it go and instead continues a different fight: he doesn't wanna keep pushing the car. He did it to humor Fadel, but there really is no point in continuing to push a broken car through the middle of nowhere. Fadel refuses to leave his car. Style starts talking him into leaving it there for now and coming back for it. Fadel threatens Style once again: "If my car was stolen, not only would I kill you, I’d take a car from your garage." Style is very unimpressed by this threat. "Take it. Take them all. You own my life."

Fun fact, this is the literal translation of when he says the "own my life" part:

You already have control over my life. มึงก็คุมชีวิตกูอยู่แล้วนี่ [mueng - gôh - kum - chii-wít guu - yùu - láew - nîi] you - [sentence link] - (have) control - my life - [aux] - already - [interjection]

It's interesting, because being in control of something doesn't necessarily mean you own it. Style's life is still very much his own, but he's willing to give it all to Fadel: "Take my cars, my body, my heart. Take everything." And yes, he is mostly sassing Fadel with these words, but there is also a certain seriousness to it. Fadel can have especially Style's body and Style's heart. Fadel can have 100% of Style. Style has made that decision long ago and he's still set on it, despite or maybe even especially because of everything that has happened since. Style's body and Style's heart are entirely free for Fadel to take. It's a sincere offer and it's on Fadel to take it up. Fadel stares at Style in an attempt to figure him out. Then he goes to get his backpack, walks back over to Style and grabs the water bottle out of his hands and then starts walking down the path. Style follows as soon as he realizes that Fadel is listening to Style's suggestion of leaving the car there for now.

No. 5: Murder House

Again we don't really know how much time has passed but at some point Fadel and Style find a house. Style makes a joke about a cannibal family living inside and while I doubt he actually believed in the cannibal family, I do think he's a lot more anxious now than he was about the hypothetical murderer by the car. Fadel replies with a joke of his own to really underline his alleged disdain for Style: "Good. I’ll ask them to cook you. I’m getting hungry." Style doesn't think it's funny and says "Don’t say that. It’s scary." Fun fact, in Thai Style doesn't just imply that he's scared by calling the situation/the thought of a cannibal family scary but he explicitly says that he's scared:

I'm scared for real. กูกลัวจริงนะเว้ย [guu - gluua - jing - ná wóiie] I - be scared - true, (for) real - [particle]

His anxiety gets even more apparent when he suggests returning to the road. Fadel doesn't believe in Style's creative imaginations but does tell him that if a murderer actually shows up he'll shoot them. Then Fadel pulls out his gun just in case (and potentially also to make Style feel more protected) and starts walking towards the house. Style follows, not very reassured. We can tell that his anxiety has grown from the way how at the beginning of the scene Style and Fadel were walking side by side and Style was walking even slightly in front of Fadel but when they walk up to the house Style is now walking behind Fadel instead:

They make their way towards the front door and Fadel knocks and calls out to someone inside. There's no answer. Style is getting more anxious by the minute and urges Fadel to leave: "Hey, it’s not too late to turn back." Fadel ignores him and starts knocking and calling again. There is still no answer. Style hates it. "This is getting scary," he says and I think that this is the point where his growing anxiety turns into genuine fear. Fadel pulls at the door which actually opens up. "What are you doing?" Style asks and his voice sounds really stressed now. Fadel walks inside the house without hesitation. Style immediately follows, but scolds Fadel for trespassing. Style would rather be anywhere else right now than here. Fadel turns his head to Style and says "I don't care." Or rather he says:

You think I'm scared? แล้วมึงคิดว่ากูกลัวป่ะ [láew - mueng - kít - wâa - guu - gluua - bpà] and - you - think - that - I - (be) scared - ?

Style swallows. Fadel continues to call out for someone. Style squints at him. He wants to leave. Suddenly a baseball comes down the stairs. Style jumps and yells. Fadel's hand goes to his gun, ready to pull it any moment. A second later the baseball is followed by a guy who is being chased by another guy brandishing the bat to that baseball. The first guy goes to hide behind Style and with that Fadel and Style find themselves in the middle of a domestic argument. The baseball guy, Popcorn, yells at his partner for a bit and then moves to attack him with the bat. Despite Style's initial fear walking up to the house, instead of shaking the guy off and getting out of the way he reacts by acting as a human shield, putting his arms out in a conciliatory gesture and suggesting to talk it out over using violence. Somewhere in this series there is a point to be made about Style having a tendency to act like a mediator (when he's not actively picking the fight himself) and if I wasn't so busy with uni assignments and my meta series, that would certainly be a meta post I'd be looking into making.

It's only when Style starts speaking that it fully registers for Popcorn that there are currently random people standing in his house. He starts asking who they are and how they got into his house and Style stutters, completely overwhelmed by the situation and certainly not any less afraid. Before Style has managed to form a proper thought Popcorn accuses them of being his partner's side bits. This immediately has Style stressed again and he yells "no" over and over again. Popcorn isn't convinced and goes for another attack with the baseball bat. It's a bit unclear whether Popcorn had planned to attack only one of them or maybe all three of them but either way, the way Style was standing he definitely would have been the first in line to get hit. Fadel pulls his gun even before Popcorn has managed to take a swing at Style. Style stops yelling and stares at the gun in shock. Popcorn drops his bat on the spot and retreats back to the stairs. His partner comes out from his hiding spot behind Style to follow Popcorn. Together they attempt to scramble up the stairs. Style stands still, completely frozen in place, staring at the gun for a few seconds until he finally turns his head to the stairs to watch the odd pair get away from the gun.

I think there are multiple factors to Style's shock here: his anxiety had already started even before they'd entered the house and it only grew from there. Then, Popcorn and Jimmy's appearance hit them both out of nowhere and Style really got roped into it even more than Fadel did with Jimmy grabbing Style first to use him as a human shield and then Popcorn also almost assaulting Style with a baseball bat. I think part of Style freezing is the left-over shock from Jimmy and Popcorn's initial attacks. It all happens very quickly, after all. In fact, Fadel's gun is out before Style has even had the time to properly process the fact that he was about to die by baseball bat. And so I think part of Style staring at the gun is him reacting to Fadel's movement in general and then Style's brain using the sudden break in action to catch up with everything that was happening in the last couple of seconds. Wait, I'm being attacked with a baseball bat. Wait, there is a movement next to me. Wait, the baseball bat attack stopped. Wait, there is a gun. Wait, the attackers are gone. Wait, the gun was protecting me. Wait, what are these two weirdos doing, where are these two weirdos going.

Style's eyes widen a bit as he turns his head to watch Popcorn and Jimmy scramble up the stairs and he doesn't look that shocked anymore or even terrified. He squints his eyes a little and it looks like he's he's in thought, like he's trying to figure something out.

And I think there are a number of things he's trying to figure out. Like, what the fuck to make of Jimmy and Popcorn. Who the fuck those weirdos are, where the fuck they came from, and where the fuck they are going again. Why the fuck they attacked Fadel and Style, but especially Style like this. In the above gif I think Style's brain has finally finished processing what has just happened, is finally all caught up and I think Style actually isn't all that afraid of the gun in this moment because he does realize that the gun did just save him (them) from dying by baseball bat a moment ago. And Fadel did say earlier that he would shoot anyone trying to murder Style (them).

And another thing that I think Style is trying to figure out is whether Jimmy and Popcorn's lives are in danger now with Fadel's gun on them. When Style's eyes widen it's almost as if he's thinking Wait, I just nearly died and Fadel protected me from them and when he squints his eyes it's like Who are these people? Is Fadel actually gonna shoot them now? Do I have to go from worrying about being killed by them to worrying about them being killed?

No. 6: Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Fadel doesn't shoot them. Instead, he has Style tie them to the piano. I do think it's kinda funny how Fadel tells Style "If you’re done, go look for what you need. Hurry up" and Style just nods and sits down on the sofa instead. So much for hurrying up.

Popcorn starts lamenting his pain dramatically. Neither Style nor Fadel are in the mood to listen to a domestic quarrel. Popcorn goes on and on about how Jimmy cheated on him and Jimmy says "They all meant nothing to me". In Thai he actually says:

They were just people I was chatting with. มันก็แค่คนคุย [man - gôh - kâe - kon kui] he/she/they - just - people one chats with

I asked my friend about คนคุย [kon kui] and he explained it to me as "someone you talk to/flirt with (but something serious is not (yet) happening)". So the original is much more vague about how deep Jimmy's betrayal really runs. There's a chance that Jimmy actually did cheat on Popcorn, but there's also a chance that Jimmy was just talking to them without the intent of having a thing with them and Popcorn just took it the wrong way and made a big deal out of it. Personally, my guess is Jimmy did do something for Popcorn to have a legit reason to be hurt, because later Jimmy does talk about trying his best and having been lost, but I also think he might not be as much of a (serial?) cheater as Popcorn is making him out to be in his anger.

Jimmy assures Popcorn that he is serious with Popcorn, but Popcorn doesn't believe him and cries "You were never serious with me! You made me fall for you and then betrayed me". Don't mind me putting the Thai wording here. It will be relevant later (and also don't worry about the orange bit for now, this will also be explained later).

You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. มึงอ่ะมาหลอกให้กูรักกูหลง มึงก็ทำยังเงี้ย [mueng - àh - maa - lòhk - hâi - guu - rák - guu - lŏng • mueng - gôh - tam - yang-ngíia] you - [particle] - come - trick, deceive - that - I - love - I - be crazy about • you - [sentence link] - do - like this

And this is the moment when Fadel throws Style a look. Style turns his head to look at Fadel as well. Message received.

Jimmy begs for Popcorn's forgiveness but Popcorn is still too upset and in his anger cries out: "The likes of you don’t deserve second chances. The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!" I'm gonna share a more literal translation again:

There are no chances for bad people. โอกาส​มันไม่ได้​มีไว้สำหรับ​คนเลว [oh-gàat - man - mâi dâai - mii - wái - săm-ràp - kon leow] chance - it - not - have - keep - for - bad people People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die! คนที่หลอกให้คนอื่นรัก สมควรให้ตายไปให้หมด [kon - tîi - lòhk - hâi - kon èun - rák • sŏm-kuuan - hâi - dtaai bpai hâi mòt] people - that - trick - that - others - love • deserve - that - die - all

It's no wonder that this is the thing that makes Fadel, who knows a thing or two about being tricked into loving someone, get up and offer a free kill. Style immediately jumps to his feet and reaches out an arm to Fadel in order to pacify him and to stop him from killing Jimmy. Because Style knows full well that Fadel is perfectly capable of doing so without batting and eye. And again we see Style take on the role of a mediator. Popcorn backs down and admits he was just being dramatic and doesn't actually want his partner to die. But for Fadel it's personal: "But he lied to you." Or Thai he says:

But he deceived you. แต่มันหลอกคุณนะ [dtàe - man - lòhk - kun - ná] but - he - deceive, trick - you - [particle]

Fadel points out the tricking part specifically and again we as well as Style get a hint about what exactly Fadel has been upset about and it ain't the snitching to the police. We aren't shown Style's reaction here but I think it's safe to assume he heard Fadel's words loud and clear considering he is standing right next to Fadel. Popcorn tries to calm Fadel down again by explaining they argue all the time and repeating that he doesn't actually want his partner to die. Fadel looks at them, his expression serious, his gun still pointed. Style observes Fadel carefully, watching his every move:

I think Style is very much afraid in this moment. But I don't think he's afraid of Fadel, I think he's afraid for him. And afraid for the people in front of them. After all, Style doesn't want others to be harmed. We see this over and over again in the way he threw himself into the fight at the host club before he knew Fadel was perfectly capable of fighting for himself, we see this in the way Style grabbed the gun at the bowling alley and pointed it at the shooter to keep him from doing any more harm than he had already caused and we see it now in the way Style immediately jumps to his feet, arm stretched out towards Fadel to try his best to interfere at any second if need may be. Style is afraid for Jimmy and Popcorn, because he knows full well their lives are in actual danger. And Style is afraid for Fadel, because he also knows how much pain this assassin life has caused him and he wants Fadel to quit for his (Fadel's, that is) own well-being. And Fadel's well being is something that is deeply important to Style. Style implicitly told Fadel to quit killing in episode 5 already and later this episode he will explicitly tell Fadel to quit killing again. And every shot that Fadel takes is a step in the wrong direction.

And another aspect that comes to play here is that Style is afraid of dying. This episode has been dealing with Style's very real fear and this fear has taken form in different ways: We started with Style being afraid of his own death by Fadel's hand (last episode for a moment at the pool, this episode when he was crying in the motel bed), then we saw him being afraid of his own death by someone else's hand (the fictional murderer that his mind kept imaging) and now we see him afraid of someone else's death. And yes, the first two were about Style's own death, so why would he be afraid dying now when this situation is about someone else's death, not his own? The thing is, though... Is it really? Is this really about someone else's death? Because the person Fadel is about to kill is Style's mirror. Who is to say that after Fadel has taken care of Style's mirror his emotions won't get the better of him and he'll turn around and shoot the real Style in his hurt, too, while he's at it? So Style doesn't take his eyes off from Fadel, because his own life is still at stake too and how Fadel acts now will give Style a hint about how determined Fadel still is to kill him.

But then Jimmy suddenly changes course. He is willing to accept death if it means Popcorn will be safe. Style is still standing there with his arm halfway up, still tense, still ready to jump into action if Fadel pulls the trigger while Jimmy goes into a plea for Popcorn's life. Jimmy ends it by announcing that he loves Popcorn, which is yet another sore point for Fadel. "If you love him, why did you fool him?" Fun fact, Fadel is so pissed that he actually uses rude pronouns with Jimmy:

ถ้ามึงรักเขามึงจะหลอกเขาทำไม [tâa - mueng - rák - kăo - meung - jà - lòhk - kăo - tam-mai] if - you - love - him - you - will - trick, deceive - him - why

Also, this time we do get to see Style's reaction to Fadel's words:

I think Style partly throws Fadel that look because he is still afraid that Fadel is so angry that he might actually kill Jimmy and is ready to interfere at any time and part of that look is Style taking in and piecing together what exactly Fadel is and has been upset about. During this entire conversation it's always been the topic of loving and tricking and tricking into loving that Fadel's had the strongest emotional response to. That's what Fadel is upset about.

Jimmy doesn't reply to Fadel, doesn't explain himself. Instead he turns to Popcorn and goes into a heartfelt apology. The two of them bicker for a bit. Style's has lowered his arm even more now, but it's still in perfect position to make a grab at Fadel any second if need may be. He checks on Fadel again when Jimmy asks Popcorn to let Fadel shoot him if Popcorn doesn't believe that Jimmy's love is true. The husbands-to-be bicker some more and then Jimmy dramatically offers himself up as a sacrifice again, orders Fadel to shoot him. Fadel clenches his jaw. He knows he can't. He looks over at Style. Style is staring at Fadel intently, observing him, watching him carefully.

And again, I think this stare is about both, checking whether Fadel is still gonna go in for the kill and also Style trying to read Fadel, trying to figure out where Fadel is at emotionally when it comes to his own relationship with Style. Style is actively in the process of piecing together what exactly he's done to make Fadel hurt this much and to make Fadel want to kill him. And I think at this point here, Style is no longer as terrified of a potential murder happening right in front of his eyes the way he was when Fadel had initially pulled the gun on Jimmy.

Speaking of Style's fear, a couple of days ago I saw a post in the tags where someone was asking why Fadel pulling a gun on him was hot to Style but suddenly when Fadel is pulling the gun on other people it's an issue and since this meta series is THE Style manifesto I figure I should maybe write a paragraph about that too. When Style is at the other end of the gun it's hot, because Style is 99% sure Fadel won't actually kill him, won't kill him specifically. But when Fadel is pointing the gun at other people, Style can't be so sure. After all, this is Fadel's profession, this is what he specializes in. Fadel does this on the regular and Style is very well aware of it. The thing is, Style doesn't actually want others to be harmed. We see this over and over again when Style goes and helps people, when Style acts like a mediator in situations. Only last episode Style told Kant that love can turn a bad guy good and I think that's ultimately what he wants for Fadel. For Fadel to quit the job, to stop killing people, to turn "good" for Style and also for himself (putting "good" in quotation marks, because to Style, Fadel is a good person already as he reveals later in the bathtub). Style has already suggested Fadel quits the job even back in episode 5 when Fadel opened up about his parents' murder and about not wanting a relationship in order not to cause trouble to anyone. Style is cool with Fadel pulling a gun on him if no harm is done, but he is not cool with Fadel pulling a gun on others if harm could be done. And at the end of the day Style is also not cool with Fadel pulling a gun on him either, if Style's own life is in actual danger from that. We saw as much by the pool and we saw it again this episode when Fadel was about to kill Style's mirror.

Another thing I find truly fascinating about this scene is how Popcorn and Jimmy are clear parallels to Fadel and Style, but not in the way one might expect. We have Popcorn, the loud and overdramatic one and then we have Jimmy, the calm and collected one. We have Style, the loud and overdramatic one and then we have Fadel, the calm and collected one. You'd think Popcorn would be a parallel for Style and Jimmy would be a parallel for Fadel, but psyche! The calm and collected Fadel relates to the loud and overdramatic Popcorn's problem while the loud and overdramatic Style relates to the calm and collected Jimmy's problems. I think there are various interpretations possible as to why that is. One thing I'd like to think is that Popcorn's loud whirlwind emotions are a representation of how Fadel is quietly feeling inside but would never ever let out in any way, because his walls are that far up. And then we have Jimmy, who did something wrong, but is so serious and sincere in his love for Popcorn, in his longing for Popcorn's forgiveness and in his desire to be with Popcorn, to get married to Popcorn. And as loud and overdramatic Style can sometimes be, Style is completely serious about his love for Fadel and his decision to be with him no matter what. It's not a joke to Style. And Style, too, is longing for that forgiveness, is longing to go back to being happy and in love, is longing to get 100% of Fadel's trust. Fadel has told him before that Style had 80% of his trust, but with the betrayal those 80% have taken a significant dip down. But Style is still serious about wanting those 100% and so he will work his way back up again.

Side note: Another thing I was thinking about was how Jimmy was so willing to take the bullet if it meant keeping Popcorn safe and it just has me wonder if Style will be taking a bullet to keep Fadel safe.

No. 7: Do You Hear the Wedding Bells

Instead of going for a kill, Fadel lets Popcorn and Jimmy have their wedding. Style officiates while Fadel hides in a corner, watching everything from a distance. Style, believer in the power of love, is very happy for Jimmy and Popcorn. He watches with joy as they exchange rings and what I love about this is how Style's joy has such a calm, grounded energy to it. Style prompts the happy couple to kiss and I am absolutely convinced that his laughter when Popcorn jumps Jimmy and Jimmy carries him towards the wall is all Dunk, not Style. Then Style turns his head and looks at Fadel. He is presented with an image of Fadel quietly laughing at this couple's joy and passion and happiness. Fadel then turns his head towards Style as well, but immediately looks away when he meets Style's eyes and his laughter fades.

Remember how in last episode's meta I said:

And it's just veeeery interesting that Style asks Fadel to marry him for the second episode in a row. If it happens again next episode, I'm calling it. But for now, let's wait and see 👀

Well... We didn't get a FadelStyle marriage proposal, but Style's mirror saying "You and I are getting married" to Fadel's mirror? And then the Style and Fadel mirrors actually getting married? With Style officiating the wedding? That's three episodes in a row with a wedding reference in connection to Fadel and Style. Episode 6 with the untranslatable pun, episode 7 with Style's proposal prank, now episode 8 with an actual wedding. Three is a pattern, no? Style may not have uttered the words "Will you marry me" to Fadel this episode, but I'm calling it anyway. These two are so getting married by the end of the series, aren't they...

(Also, sorry for writing so few words about this scene. I don't have words, I only have Big Emotions.)

No. 8: Dinners and Dancing

It's night time now and the four of them are having a nice wedding dinner. Style makes friendly conversation as usual, while Fadel sits there and barely socializes. Jimmy brags about his husband's cooking skills, and Style immediately responds with a brag of his own because his own boyfriend is just as good as cooking. And this time around I think the boyfriend drop is a lot more deliberate than it was at the beginning of the episode, because this time around he actually emphasizes it a little. The word "faen" is the word he stresses the most in the sentence. Then he turns to Fadel and teasingly compliments him: "His burgers are to die for." In Thai, what he says word for word is "make very delicious burgers":

ทำเบอร์เกอร์อร่อยมาก [tam - ber-gêr - à-ròi - mâak] make - burger - delicious - very

Note how there is no pronoun in this sentence. That means, the sentence can be taken either as "He makes very delicious burgers" because Style was just talking to Jimmy and this sentence is still addressed to Jimmy or the sentence could be taken as "You make very delicious burgers" from the way Style is saying this sentence directly to Fadel's face. You hear that? That's you. You're my faen that makes delicious burgers. I love you. Fadel scrunches his eyebrows, skeptical and confused. Style smiles brightly, grabs a spoonful of food and offers to feed it to Fadel. Unlike Fadel earlier that day, Style actually does feed him gently. In fact, he doesn't force the food nor the caring gesture onto Fadel. He holds out the spoon and once again waits for Fadel to go along of his own free will which Fadel awkwardly does after a moment of hesitation. Then, Style goes back to making friendly conversation and we get a bit of backstory about how Popcorn and Jimmy used to live in the city as salarymen and then came to live on a farm because Jimmy loves nature. Style finds in romantic that Popcorn left his good life for a more difficult farm life. Fadel still holds a grudge and asks Jimmy why he cheated when Popcorn had done all of that for him. Jimmy says it's only human to get lost sometimes and that he's come back home in the end. This has Fadel even more pissed. He bangs his fist onto the table so forcefully that it jumpscares Style right next to him. "Only because you take him for granted," Fadel snarls. Popcorn awkwardly says he's already forgiven Jimmy and Style puts his hand on Fadel's hand to calm him down. Fadel looks at Style and Style gives him a little bit of a nod, as if to say Hey, it's okay. You can let it go. You don't need to settle this argument for them. Fadel leans back into his chair, resigned.

Jimmy changes the topic and asks where Fadel and Style are going and Style immediately has a believable answer ready. "We’re heading south. Kinda hoped it was going to be a romantic road trip date." And let me just share a more literal translation about the road trip, because he shamelessly and also very deliberately this time throws around the word boyfriend again:

I wanted to go on a road trip with my boyfriend. พอดีตั้งใจจะมาขับรถเล่นกับแฟนนะครับ [poh dii - dtâng-jai - jà - maa - kàp rót lên - gàp - faen - ná - kráp] because - intend to - will - come - drive for fun - with - boyfriend - [particle] - [particle]

When Style says the word boyfriend, he turns his head and pointedly says "faen" directly into Fadel's face. Because he still considers Fadel his boyfriend, whether Fadel likes it or not. After all, they've never officially broken up. And no, multiple death threats that have involved an actual a gun do not count as a break-up as far as Style is concerned. Not if he still has any say in it. Because their relationship is that serious to him. Because from the moment they started dating, their relationship was never fake to him. Fadel squints his eyes. Popcorn then asks how they met and Style tells them: "I was kinda dared into taking him out, but then I actually fell for him." And again, just a little correction on the whole "I was dared to" part:

It started with me deceitfully flirting with him. มันเริ่มจากผมไปหลอกจีบเขาครับ [man - rêrm - jàak - pŏm - bpai - lòhk - jìip - kăo - kráp] it - start - from - I - go - deceive, trick - flirt - him - [particle]

Nowhere in the way Style phrased it does it say who thought of the idea of the fake flirting. Nowhere does it say whether someone else made him do it or whether it was Style's own idea. Style isn't putting the blame on someone else and in a way is actually even kinda making himself look bad here since it could be taken as Style having come up with the scheme by himself. Popcorn and Jimmy don't know that there are two other guys involved in this story. Popcorn says "Such is love, isn’t it?" and Style turns to look at Fadel for a moment who meets his eyes. Popcorn then continues with "It can start from deceit, but it zigzags its way into something beautiful at the end." Style turns to Fadel again, throwing him a very pointed look. Something beautiful, huh? Did you hear that? Fadel pointedly ignores Style and his pointed look. The newlywed husbands discuss the natural process of a relationship – bickering, fighting, boning. This greatly amuses Style and he looks at Fadel again. In fact, he stares at Fadel for several seconds until Fadel finally properly looks at him. And that's when Style raises an eyebrow at him. Well?

And it's fun, because the scene started out with Fadel doing a thing with his eyebrows and it ends with Style doing a thing with his eyebrows, almost like an answer.

Style's energy in this scene is very boyfriend-like. Fadel took a step back and withdrew at the presence of these two other people, and now that Style doesn't have to fend off Fadel constant stream of personal digs at him anymore, Style comfortably slips back into that boyfriend role. And it's not just that he's comfortable in this role, no, he is proud to be Fadel's boyfriend and proud to have Fadel as his boyfriend. Style brags about Fadel and his cooking skills and calls him his boyfriend to anyone who will listen. Style keeps Fadel in check when Fadel gets hotheaded and is absolutely up for going through the natural process of bickering-fighting-boning if Fadel is up for it as well. And most importantly, Style is simply just happy to be around him, happy to spend time with him. Style is proud of him and he is happy with him and he wants Fadel by his side. He means that choice from the bottom of his heart and so he will act accordingly. Especially now that he is finally starting to understand why exactly Fadel is hurting.

No. 9: Big Small Matters

The time for dinner is over and the time for dancing has started. Fadel and Style sit on the couch, they're watching the happy couple and especially Style is delighted at their happiness himself. After a while, Style turns to Fadel and says "Cute couple, aren’t they? Just like us". This is the third time this evening, a rather short time frame, that Style has made a reference to them being in a relationship (referring to Fadel as his "boyfriend" twice and now calling them a "couple"). And yes, he did blatantly refer to Fadel as his boyfriend when they were talking to the aunty at the motel too, but I think this time around Style is very deliberately and consciously doing so given his observations of Fadel earlier that day. They're a cute couple. Style means it. No joke. No trick.

Fadel is quiet for a moment, then says "We're not a couple". Definitely by sheer coincidence the song that Jimmy put on just happens to be about forgiveness and just happens to play the lyrics Just overlook what is trivial right before Fadel's reply. Style asks Fadel if he wasn't listening to the lyrics and quotes them back at him. Fadel is not amused: "You think what you did to me was 'trivial'?"

Now, the phrase that the song uses to say "trivial" is เล็กๆ น้อยๆ [lék lék nói nói] which word for word makes something like "small small little little". I asked my Thai language buddy if this word was like the word "Kleinigkeit" in German and he confirmed. There is no perfect English equivalent for the word "Kleinigkeit" but it basically means something like "small matter" or "little thing". Depending on the situation there could be other meanings that go along with it. For this context right here "no big deal" could even work in English. Now let me share what Fadel actually said:

You think that you deceiving me is no big deal? (lit. "is a small matter?" / "is small?") มึงคิดว่าเรื่องที่มึงมาหลอกกูเนี่ยมันเล็กๆ น้อยๆหรอ [mueng - kít wâa - rêuuang - tîi - mueng - maa - lòhk - guu - nîia - man - lék lék nói nói - rŏr] you - think that - thing, matter - that - you - come - deceive, trick - me - [particle] - it - small (matter), little (thing) - ?

Fadel uses the word หลอก [lòhk] here, which means "to trick" or "to deceive". That means, he doesn't just vaguely say "what you did to me" but he explicitly tells Style that the thing that has been bothering him is Style deceiving him, Style tricking him. By now you may have noticed a pattern to the orange color: The word หลอก [lòhk] comes up a lot this episode. I've bolded and marked this word orange all throughout this post so you can see just how many times and in which contexts this word is used. Style uses it during the dinner when he says "I was kinda dared into taking him out" (more literally: "It started with me deceitfully flirting with him"), Popcorn uses this word when he cries "The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!" (more literally: "People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die!") and Fadel uses the word when he says "But he lied to you. (more literally: "But he deceived you.") after Popcorn says he doesn't actually want Jimmy to be killed for real. And now Fadel uses it again to call Style out: "You think what you did to me was 'trivial'?" (more literally: "You think that you deceiving me is no big deal?").

Fadel is mad that Style tricked him, that Style deceived him. This much was already obvious from Fadel's emotional reactions to Popcorn and Jimmy's dispute, but now Style has explicit confirmation. This is where he needs to start working at if he wants to earn Fadel's forgiveness.

The newly-wed husbands walk over and invite them to dance, too. Style is up for it, but Fadel really doesn't want to. Style talks him into it and pulls him up. Reluctantly, Fadel gives in to Style just like he always does.

They dance a little, but at some point Style turns to Fadel, puts his hand on his shoulder, smiles, and tells him: "I know what I did wasn’t 'trivial.' But I’m ready to do anything to make you forgive me." Now for that first sentence you might think that in the Thai line Style repeats Fadel's words from earlier ("You think that you deceiving me is no big deal?") where Fadel used the word หลอก [lòhk] and you might think that Style would use it now, too. But actually, he does keep things more vague in the original itself as well:

I know that what I did was a big deal. (lit. "was no small matter" / "isn't a little thing") กูรู้นะเว้ยว่าเรื่องที่กูทำอ่ะ ไม่ใช่เรื่องเล็กๆ น้อยๆ [guu - rúu - ná wóiie - wâa - rêuuang - tîi - guu - tam - à • mâi châi - rêuuang - lék lék nói nói] I - know - [particle] - that - thing, matter - that - I - do - [particle] • not - thing, matter - small (matter), little (thing)

Maybe Style is referring not only to the fact that he tricked Fadel into loving him but also to how Fadel feels "cheated on" because he did end up falling for Style's (initially) insincere flirting, was head over heels in love with him only to find out Style wasn't his but was "the police's" and that the love wasn't real, was just a trick.

Or maybe there is something we don't yet know about? (Like, there is still the mysterious Boonterm mention from episode 3? Or, something that had COMPLETELY slipped my mind when I was writing my ep7 meta and so ended up writing something from a completely wrong perspective: Style has seen Keen before when he eavesdropped on Fadel and Keen's conversation and so in ep7 in the men's room it could also be taken as Style stopping Fadel from discovering Keen on purpose, which brings up the question... what's up with that????) Or maybe he just keeps it vague so that he can say it at a later point explicitly.

Anyway, so Style firmly tells Fadel that he knows he was in the wrong and that he's ready to do anything to earn Fadel's forgiveness and then pulls him into a hug while they continue to dance. This hug doesn't last very long, though, because next thing Fadel and Style know is that they're being attacked by Jimmy and Popcorn. Luckily, Style sees them in time and shouts Fadel's name in shock and to warn him. They both tumble down and Fadel has his gun out before they've even hit the couch. Fadel shoots into the air and while by now Style is very familiar with the image of Fadel pointing guns, this is the first time he's witnessed Fadel actually fire a shot (from a real gun, that is. Not a BB gun). A shot, that protected not only Fadel himself, but also Style. And while Style does still look at the gun for a moment again, he is nowhere near as frozen or worried as he was when Fadel pulled the gun on Popcorn and Jimmy the few instances earlier this episode.

For a second time that day, Fadel and Style tie up Popcorn and Jimmy. Style makes a comment about how he was off about the serial killer part but they were nearly killed by someone after all. Style's fear and anxiety from the day has proven to be justified. Fadel nags that Style trusts people to easily and that he's only interested in other people's love lives. Style doesn't see a problem with that: "I’m a hopeless romantic. Can’t help it that love stories touch me." Or in Thai:

I'm a romantic person. กูมันเป็นคนโรแมนติก [guu - man - bpen - kon roh-maen-dtìk] I - [marker] - be - romantic person I'm easily tricked by touching things. โดนหลอกด้วยอะไรซึ้งๆง่าย [dohn lòhk - dûuay - à-rai - séung séung - ngâai] be tricked, deceived - by, through - something - touching - easy

I just want to point out that Style uses the word หลอก [lòhk] here. Style gets tricked by romantic, touching things the same way as, you know, someone else in this room feels like he got tricked by romantic, touching things. It's like Style is saying What? Can you blame me? I, too, get tricked by love.

Fadel moves to remove the arm sling and Style goes to help him. Fadel lets him, doesn't block him. And I'm sure it was absolutely necessary for Style to put his arm around Fadel's shoulder like that for easier opening of the buckle. Duh. Style smiles a little as he slides off the arm sling. Fadel makes his way up the stairs. Style first looks at their tied up victims, then watches Fadel walk upstairs. There are certainly things on Style's mind. He'll be voicing them in the bathtub in a bit.

No. 10: Fadel in a Bath Fadel in a Bath Na Na Na Na Na Na Fadel in a Bath

Style finds Fadel in the bathtub and wants to join in. Fadel is reluctant at first, but is also not in the mood to argue with Style and so Style starts getting undressed. Now, usually I'd just skip past this part of Style getting naked and hopping into the tub because it's not a relevant process. However, during this process he does something very interesting: When he lays down his clothes he touches the gun, as if to make a grab for it before he goes and covers it with clothes.

I'm gonna be honest, I really have no idea what to make of this moment. As to why Style covers it, it could probably be because he wants it out of sight, out of the way, wants it gone. Style has made it very clear on multiple occasions that he doesn't want Fadel to be killing people and he will also be telling Fadel exactly that in just another minute as well. Away with the gun.

But if that really is the case, then I still don't understand why Style would touch the gun in the first place. If he wanted to hide it, he could have dropped his shirt down on it without bending down and touching it. But Style does go through the effort and the way he touches it almost looks like he is about to pick it up. The "Style + guns" counter goes up to 5.

Style is also very deliberate about it. He has his eyes glued to Fadel, watching him carefully through the entire process. That has me wonder if Style is maybe testing Fadel. Is he testing Fadel's trust, maybe? Because Fadel did say that the words out of Style's mouth are no longer trustworthy, but what about Style's actions? Are those still trustworthy? Technically Style is also still Fadel's kidnapping victim, so what would the kidnapper do if the victim goes for the weapon the kidnapper has been using to keep his victim in check? But Fadel's reaction is just a raised eyebrow and a bit of an eyebrow scrunch like What exactly is it that you're doing? It's a clear message, but at the same time Fadel doesn't even move a single muscle that indicates he is about to do something to get the weapon away from Style.

Fadel watches Style closely, but doesn't interfere. There is a certain amount of trust involved here, because Style could have easily made a quick grab for it and pulled the gun on Fadel for once.

I actually asked @secriden about her opinion on this because I didn't quite know what to make of it and she came back with an interesting perspective I also want to share:

Oh, I think the purpose of that was to show that Style is really choosing to be with Fadel. In that scenario Style literally has all the advantage— Fadel is naked in a bathtub and he's hampered by a broken arm and literally being in a slippery situation. Like if Style wanted to just take the gun and shoot Fadel there was little Fadel could've done at that point. But Style touches the gun and makes deliberate eye contact and then covers it with his clothes like he's saying "See? Even when you give me the chance to seize control what matters to me is another chance to fix our relationship." He's basically proving his own words when he said "I'll do anything to make it up to you." This includes letting a chance go literally take back his LIFE because the gun still symbolises a threat to Style's life (even if we know Fadel isn't going to go through with it).

After covering the gun with his clothes, Style gets into the tub and the first thing out of his mouth is: "I’m glad you didn’t kill them." And we know this to be true, because we saw how afraid and how tense Style was earlier when the gun was involved. Fadel reminds him that he only kills bad people and even if he disapproves of Jimmy's cheating, at the end of the day it's none of his business anyway. Style states "You’re pretty decent at your core, you know?" and I sigh in exasperation again, because it's not that Fadel is just "pretty decent", no, Fadel is a good person. And buckle up, because there are quite a few language notes to follow over the course of this scene.

Really, you're a good person at your core. จริงๆสันดานมึงเป็นคนดีนะเว้ย [jing jing - săn-daan - mueng - bpen - kon dii - ná wóiie] really, honestly - nature, core - you - be - good person - [particle]

Having made this assessment, Style wants to know how come Fadel is a hitman then and Fadel says he gets hired, there's nothing more to it. Style says it's not true that Fadel is doing it just for the money. Fadel comes back with a challenge: "Why not? You don’t know anything about me." In Thai he actually phrases it like a question which I like because it makes the challenge a bit more direct and Fadel's words sassier:

You know me well? มึงรู้จักกูดีเหรอ [mueng - rúu-jàk - guu - dii - rĕr] you - know - me - well - ?

(German speakers: the mood of this sentence is actually more like "Kennst du mich denn gut?", not just "Kennst du mich gut?")

So Fadel throws Style a sassy question, but Style has an answer, and what an answer it is:

I may not know your past but I know your present well. กูอาจจะไม่รู้จักอาดีตมึงแต่กูรู้จักปัจจุบันมึงดีนะเว้ย [guu - àat-jà - mâi - rúu-jàk - àdiit mueng - dtàe - guu - rùu-jàk - bpàt-jù-ban mueng - dii - ná wóiie] I - may, might - not - know - your past - but - I - know - your present - well - [Particle] Official subs: "I might not know who you were in the past, but I know who you are now."

It's not just that Style didn't know who Fadel was as a person in the past, but also Style was neither present in Fadel's past nor did Fadel share much about his past apart from the fact that his parents were shot. Style may not have been there for Fadel's past, but Style is very much there for Fadel's present, he's lived Fadel's present by his side for a while now and has gotten to know Fadel's life and Fadel himself really well. And Style is here for Fadel's present despite all things that should make him want to leave. Style is here for Fadel's present despite all the things he knows or maybe even because of all the things he knows. He knows Fadel is a killer, but he also knows Fadel is a good person. Being here for Fadel's present, Style's gotten to know many different side's of Fadel that make him want to stay in Fadel's present. Style smiles at him. Fadel can't run away from the mortifying ordeal of being known forever. It's too late. Style already knows him significantly, whether Fadel wants to acknowledge it or not.

Fadel looks away from him and when he looks back at Style, Style brings back the topic of Fadel only killing bad people and asks how Fadel decides. Fadel claims he decides based on his own experiences. Style tells him:

You're not a court passing sentences on other people's lives. มึงไม่ใช่ศาลมาพิพากษาชีวิตคนอื่น​นะเว้ย [mueng - mâi châi - săan - maa - pí-pâak-săa - chii-wít - kon èun - ná wóiie] you - not - court - come - judge - life - others - [particle] Official subs: It’s not your job to judge that kind of thing, you know? Just quit doing it. เลิกทำไปเหอะ [lêrk - tam - bpai - hùh] quit, stop - do - [particle] - [particle] Official subs: Why don’t you just quit? The more you keep doing this, the more your life will never be at peace. ยิ่งมึงทำแบบนี้ ชีวิดมึงยิ่งไม่จบไม่สิ้น [yîng - mueng - tam - bàep níi • chii-wít meung - yîng - mâi - jòp - mâi - sîn] the more - you - do - like this • your life - the more - not - end - not - end Official subs: If you keep going, it will never be over.

You may have noticed that in the interlinear translation of the last sentence it says "not end not end" which doesn't make a lot of sense, of course. Style actually uses two different words for "end" here. I asked my friend about it who explained that "not end" as in ไม่จบ [mâi jòb] refers to something external (the killings) while "not end" as in ไม่��ิ้น [mâi sîn] refers to something internal (Fadel finding inner peace). The more Fadel keeps killing, the more he'll be stuck in this life and the more he won't be able to rest.

Fadel doesn't want to be lectured, but Style isn't actually saying all this to lecture Fadel. It's a well-meant warning because Style cares about Fadel and his well-being:

I just think there's probably no one who will warn you and mean well for you as much as I do. กูอ่ะแค่คิดว่าคงไม่มีใครเตือน​และหวังดีกับมึงเท่ากูละ [guu - àh - kâe - kít - wâa - kong- mâi mii krai - dteuuan - láe - wăng dii gàp - mueng - tâo - guu - lá] I - [particle] - just - think - that - maybe - there is no one - warn - and - mean well for - you - like - I - [particle] Official subs: I just think there’s no one out there who wants the best for you more than I do.

Fadel just stares at him and Style smiles back. He means it. After a moment, he puts his feet on Fadel and targets the nipple. First of all, it's time to be a little shit again and try to annoy his way back into Fadel's life and second of all, maybe I think he hasn't given up hope of getting some yet, even if Fadel is still back to being grumpy. Also, it's my personal headcanon that Style put his feet on Fadel for the same reason Dunk did: the tub is simply just too small for these two grown men.

Fadel reminds him that just because he lets Style mess with him it doesn't mean he won't kill Style. Style tilts his head. That's death threat number what? And yet, Style is still here and still able to mess with Fadel. "Go ahead. Blow my head off whenever you want." Style is here, ready to accept his fate. "I’m a bad person for making you fall for me, head over heels, and then betraying you. I deserve to die." And here is where the exact wording is important again. Literally he says: "I'm bad. I tricked you into loving me, I tricked you into being crazy about me, and then I betrayed you. I deserve to die."

Sorry in advance, but the following will be chaos. There is only so much formatting I can do in a tumblr post (I wish I could add a table!). The arrows indicate the literal translation. The colors will make sense a paragraph down.

→ I'm bad. กูอ่ะมันเลว [guu - àh - man - leow] I - [particle] - [marker] - bad Official subs: I’m a bad person → I tricked you into loving me, หลอกให้มึงรัก [lòhk - hâi - mueng - rák] trick, deceive - that - you - love Official subs: for making you fall for me → I tricked you into being crazy about me, หลอกให้มึงหลง [lòhk - hâi - mueng - lŏng] trick, deceive - that - you - be crazy about Official subs: head over heels → and then I betrayed you. แล้วหักหลังมึง [láew - hàk lăng - meung] and (then) - betray - you Official subs: and then betraying you. → I deserve to die. กูอ่ะสมควรตายเว้ย [guu - àh - sŏm-kuuan - dtaai - wóiie] I - [particle] - deserve - die - [particle] Official subs: I deserve to die.

The wording is significant, not just because our keyword หลอก [lòhk] makes another appearance, but because Style repeats Popcorn's (aka Fadel's mirror, the one voicing how Fadel feels inside) words back to Fadel. Let's compare with what Popcorn was saying: "You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. [...] There are no chances for bad people. People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die!" (Style's words: "I'm bad. I tricked you into loving me, I tricked you into being crazy about me, and then I betrayed you. I deserve to die.")

→ You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. มึงอ่ะมาหลอกให้กูรักกูหลง มึงก็ทำยังเงี้ย [mueng - à- maa - lòhk - hâi - guu - rák - guu - lŏng • mueng - gôh - tam - yang -ngíia] you - [particle] - come - trick, deceive - that - I - love - I - be crazy about • you - [sentence link] - do - like this Official subs: You made me fall for you and then betrayed me. [...] → There are no chances for bad people. โอกาส​มันไม่ได้​มีไว้สำหรับ​คนเลว [oh-gàat - man - mâi dâai - mii - wái - săm-ràp - kon leow] chance - it - not - have - keep - for - bad people Official subs: The likes of you don’t deserve second chances. → People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die! คนที่หลอกให้คนอื่นรัก สมควรให้ตายไปให้หมด [kon - tîi -lòhk - hâi - kon èun - rák • sŏm-kuuan - hâi - dtaai bpai hâi mòt] people - that - trick, deceive - that - others - love • deserve - that - die - all Official subs: The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!

As you can see, Style uses almost the exact same words that Popcorn used and they are all words that Fadel had an emotional reaction to earlier that day. Style's been paying attention. Style finishes with "I deserve to die" just like Popcorn claimed was the case and then closes his eyes and tilts his head back a little like Go on, shoot me. I am at your mercy and I am ready to die for my sins.

Two things are happening here with this little monologue: Style is being a little shit by shamelessly mocking Fadel's empty death threats. Style knows Fadel won't kill him over this, because if tricking people into falling in love had been enough of a reason to fall under Fadel's category of Bad Person™ then Fadel would have killed Jimmy earlier that day. But Jimmy is alive. And so is Style.

And the other thing is that Style is also letting Fadel know that he's figured out what Fadel is really angry about. Style is fully acknowledging now what he did that hurt Fadel so much. It's very different from earlier that day when the car broke down and Style was all "Hey, what happened happened. Let it go. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to the future? Focus on the future. Let go of your grudge." I think in the beginning Style assumed that while yes, Fadel would think Style's love was fake, the main thing he was angry about was Style being a snitch for the police. But then they ran into Jimmy and Popcorn. And then Fadel got unnecessarily offended at someone else's trickery in a relationship Fadel had nothing to do with. And Style paid attention. It's not that Style was working with the police that's the problem. The "working with the police part" is the thing that Fadel was already suspecting and expecting from the beginning. Fadel had been ready for that. That wasn't the problem. No, what hurts the most is that Style had the audacity to play with Fadel's heart first before "cheating" on him by being on the police's side. Fadel is upset because he thinks Style's love was insincere, that it was all just an elaborate trick while for Fadel himself the love was all real and Style now fully and actively realizes that. And acknowledges it. Except, Fadel denies his feelings: "Don’t be so full of yourself. I never fell for you."

Now, when Fadel tells Style not to be so full of himself, he actually tells Style not to คิดไปเอง [kít bpai eng]. Literally this phrase makes something like "think by oneself" and it's a phrase that my friend defined as "to come to a conclusion without there being any solid evidence for it". Fadel is basically telling Style something along the lines of "Don't make shit up, I never loved you." And yeah. He does indeed say "I never loved you" which to me sounds almost more hurtful than "I never fell for you":

กูไม่เคยรักมึง [guu - mâi koiie - rák - mueng] I - never - love - you

Fadel is a lying liar. And Style knows it. He stares at Fadel for a moment as if he can't believe Fadel really just dropped this with a straight face, then smiles a little. "You might be good at cooking and shooting, but you’re not very good at lying at all." And with that, Style immediately puts Fadel to the test. He starts slowly kissing his way up Fadel's arms, pausing to check in with Fadel and even more so to check his reaction. When Style gets close enough to Fadel's face, he slowly leans in for a kiss, his eyes fixed on Fadel's eyes. Style advances very slowly, giving Fadel plenty of time. Fadel actually tilts his head a little towards Style, almost welcoming a kiss, but when their noses are about to touch Fadel turns his head away. And you'd think Style would be annoyed about Fadel refusing him once again, but instead Style smiles. Because I don't think Style went into this with the goal of actually seducing Fadel, of actually trying to sleep with him again like he did in the race car bed in the beginning of the episode (though I'm sure he wouldn't have minded if Fadel had consented). No, this wasn't an attempt at getting into Fadel's pants. This was a test. Fadel refuses to kiss Style and Style smiles a little, looking almost amused. He was expecting this.

There it is. Proof that Fadel is a lying liar who lies. Proof that Fadel is mad about and hurt because of the exact things that Style has just listed only moments before. Proof that Fadel did love him. Does love him. Still loves him. Style keeps looking at Fadel, but Fadel keeps his head turned away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Instead of calling Fadel out for being a liar again, Style raises his eyebrows and backs off.

He sits back down on his spot at the other end of the tub and makes a promise: "As long as I'm alive, I'll make you kiss me again." Fadel, who in the meantime has started looking at Style again, lifts his head and goes back to avoiding eye contact with Style once more. He looks around the room. Looks anywhere but at Style. Looks at the painting at the wall instead. And that's when Fadel realizes. He knows exactly where Bison is. And with this we are left to wait a week for the next episode (except the next episode will already be out by the time I manage to post this rip).

If you think I have already spent enough words on this scene, think again. Because the dialogue in this scene is really interesting when thinking back to the bed scene from episode 5. Back then Fadel told Style "The real me might be scarier than you think". Towards the end of episode 7 and all throughout episode 8 Style has been getting glimpses of that real Fadel that he was warned about. Back in episode 5 Style knew about "the real Fadel" mostly in theory and told him "I promise that no matter what you are like, I'll still like you". And Fadel told Style that Style can judge once he's ready. And what is Style's judgment now that he's gotten to witness some of the real scary Fadel? "You're a good person at your core." And Style's stance on liking Fadel no matter what kind of person he is? "I just think there's probably no one out there who will warn you and mean well with you as much as I do." Fadel warned Style that Style should be wary of him, but Fadel also only kills bad people and Style isn't bad people and Style knows it. Fadel refused to fully open up to Style and right now in his anger he is likely even less willing to open up to Style at all and yet Style knows him, knows his present so well. And Style was even close to witnessing Fadel murdering someone and even though Style would rather Fadel didn't (and doesn't and won't), Style still doesn't judge Fadel for it. And even if Fadel had killed Jimmy, it likely wouldn't have made Style love Fadel any less. Back in episode 5 Style made the decision to be by this man's side and now in episode 8 he still firmly stands by this decision. In fact, maybe even more so now. Both of these scenes end in a promise made by Style: As long as I'm alive, I'll make you kiss me again. One day, I'll be your 100%. Style is absolutely set on this. And it won't be long until he makes good on that promise. At least on the promise he made this episode.

[peachsayshi]

About brutally soft reader x SUKUNA

I love how you write their dynamic with eachother and their daughter, especially the feelings she has towards SUKUNA and the small jealousy she feels just thinking about him and other women.

But I’ve got some thoughts

I understand her seeing the good in him and him being a great father but a great father isn’t always a great partner. He might have cleaned his mess up as far as she knows, we the readers of course know more.

You gave us some look into their past relationship and how toxic they were to eachother.

While people should stay in the present and look towards the future, her past shaped her. Does she trust him fully? Are there other feelings like resentment and anger she sometimes feels towards him, especially as she realizes how her daughter is growing up without two parents in the same house and how it will impact her?

While she loves her daughter, won’t she still have some anger towards him for having to take care of her all the time and work, while he has so much freedom?

Does she feel guilty for still liking him?

Does she have recurring nightmares or flashbacks as soon as she sees or talks about cheating? Does she see his cheating partner sometimes in the city and does she get that gut wrenching feeling.

There are a lot of questions I have regarding her character.

While you show the positive side of their co parenting I would love to see the negative aspects. How it impacted her her future (unexpected pregnancy), other relationships she had(parents, friends…), relationships with other men after sukuna?

How she sees her daughter, does her daughter miss him a lot or does she see a lot of sukuna in her daughter? Does reader still have some kind abandonment issues or trust issues with other people in her life because of the relationship?

Is it maybe the other relationship that seems to be on and off, that makes her yearn for sukuna who is not only her baby daddy but seems to be stable in life?

I hope it does not come off as aggressive or rude but I am really interested to see her have some female rage and anger she will express toward sukuna.



nonnie!! please don't ever apologize!! as a writer I live for these kind of questions!! I am just an awe that you that this fic made you this interested like I am truly beyond flattered. okay, okay let's break it down: "a great father isn't always a great partner" is the basis of what this story is about. regarding your question on trust, I will say that the reader does not trust him - he had to repair that trust himself. and it took him years to do it. the fact that he cheated on her isn't a small thing (to either the reader or sukuna). he lives with that mistake and the reader lives with that hurt. in one of my previous posts about them, I mention how all of this changed when sukuna found out you were pregnant. the thing is, he grew up with shitty parents. he wasn't about to turn into one himself. I don't think she resents him as much. because she truly didn't even think that he would step up to the plate and be an actual father to his child. she only revealed her pregnancy out of moral obligation, but she was clear that she doesn't expect him to be involved. the fact that sukuna is putting in the effort is more of a surprise to the reader herself.

now regarding the freedom thing, I definitely think that's more of a choice on the reader's part. sukuna wants more team, but our reader keeps the boundaries for a reason. let's not forget that she knew and loved sukuna at his worst. saw how irresponsible he could be. saw how selfish some of his actions were. I think a small part of her believes that if she isn't too cautious, he might slip up. that's the reader taking control of a situation that she cannot predict. I don't think she feels guilty for liking sukuna, I think she's scared that those feelings are still there. how could she still want someone who hurt her in that way? how could she think it would be safe to go back to him? that's what I was really trying to portray in the updated part of their little story. without giving away too much of the story, she definitely does bring it up in conversation with sukuna and it's an extremely sore point for both of them. it's the only time she sees how small he looks in her eyes. he carries so much shame with that mistake, with that woman...

oh there definitely will be some insight on the negative aspects - but it will be framed in a way to show sukuna's growth. the point is to highlight his redemption journey, rather than him being a shitty guy. however, that past still exists in both his and the reader's memory. and regarding abandonment and trust issues: they both definitely deal with it in their own way. in this particular case, it's sukuna who gave did it to her. his parents did it him.

I briefly talk about sukuna's childhood, and how compared to his brother yuji he had to witness his parents because a healthy, loving couple towards his younger brother. sukuna never got any of that. and it kills him that the same abandonment and trust issues they gave him, he just off loaded onto you with his own shitty mistakes.

sukuna's daughter is so much like him in so many ways. you can definitely see that but you believe she got the best parts of sukuna rather than the worst. and he only wants to show her the good, not the bad.

I hop this answers some of your questions! I really can't wait to explore more parts of these two - and see how their dynamic unfolds. I think as of now, sukuna simply resigns in his role as being your baby daddy and nothing else. he really wants to show you that you can rely on him, but it just isn't that easy for the reader to give in to him like she used to.

[tetsunabouquet]

Why Isha is the Most Misunderstood Character from Arcane S2: My Headcanons

A/N: After doing Sevika, I really just wanted to write this in defense of my little sweetheart, because the hate train against her is just dumb and occasionally downright ableist in how some people talk about her being mute. As a HF autistic woman, that shit just disgusts me so here I go!

-First of all, let's adress the hate towards Isha for 'magically fixing' Jinx. It's far less magical then you think. Ever heard of inner child work? Jinx might not have been working the classic techniques, as Isha acted as a proxy for Powder instead. That scene of Jinx just drifting off mentally as she does Isha's hair, talking about how she didn't do that with Vi? It very much gives off the vibe that Jinx would have liked to do the occasional girly things wih Vi as a child and that her inner Powder finally feels heard in that moment. They had been together for months at that point, so I doubt that was the sole moment Isha allowed Jinx to work through her problems by Isha being a proxy for her past self. -Secondly, let me adress the common criticism that she has no goal or whatsoever and is just there to idolize Jinx. You should all take some media literacy classes. She's very clearly set up as a mirror to a young Powder AND Vi, so why can't you see the obvious parallels?! Jinx has become like Vander, a symbol for the undercity and their fight against oppression but she doesn't wants to fight anymore. Isha isn't pushing Jinx into a hero role because she's a fangirl. But because she HAS a goal. Like Powder and Vi, she genuinely wants Zaun to be liberated and is trying to encourage Jinx to get back in the game just like Vi tried to do with Vander! Whilst the circumstances leading up to that were different, Isha even gets imprisoned for trying to make a stand for the undercity just like Vi did. I don't want to be hateful like you guys but seriously, do you Isha haters really need dialogue THAT badly to point out the obvious? -Isha's lack of voice also refers to her lack of family. Whilst she could be mute because of disability, there is also the possibility of her never having learnt how to properly speak as an orphan, as well as the possibility she became mute through trauma. As a mirror, it's highly likely Isha's parents were also brutally murdered. With 2 of the 3 explanations pointing into the direction of her being mute due to being an orphan, it's statistically likelier for this to be the actual reason. -Which adds an additional layer of tragedy to her character. Because going mute through trauma as well as being mute due to being a 'feral' child, can be dealt with! People tend to get over traumatic mutism and whilst feral children missed some important milestones, Isha could still be taught to speak basic sentences with the right help. This seems to be highlighted with how Isha learns to stand up for herself and be more assertive. She's crawling out of her shell and just when you could catch a glimmer of who she could become, she dies. With Sevika now being in charge as part of the Council, the aid Isha would need to regain her speech are now available to the children of Zaun. It's heartbreaking to think about the future Isha could have had if she had just survived the attack on Viktor's camp. -With how desperate Isha was to have a family- just look at how quickly she attached to Jinx and jumped at the chance to also be with Vander and Vi, it's clear the girl was dreaming of a home. Which brings me to her intentions to her sacrificing herself. If she was that desperate and traumatized, then it very likely could be that Isha rather wants to die then lose her family all over again. The fact her song ends with according to translations, 'for this is good enough for me', seems to imply that these months of having a family was what she dreamt of for so long and she can go in peace thanks to Jinx showing her love in the cruel world of the undercity.

[call-sign-shark]

You are meat One more word, then you're out on that street Shut your mouth, sit down at my feet Time to learn a little loyalty Ring a bell, get your treat Salivate, eat the whole damn feast Fuck around and I'm yanking that leash Dig in the dirt, counting worms like a beast

TW: it's +🔞 guys so don't read if ur not an adult. Inspired by Woof by FKA Rayne. Also it's a repost because the initial post went down while there is content much worse here. It's dishearting. The real steamy part is actually darn short and I removed that hot Ben Barnes gif tsk.

Note: this one is mainly for the girls who want to see Amos broken even before becoming a walker ~ ( hi @darklydeliciousdesires & @cillmequick)

in the official version they live happily ever after with their twisted and toxic relationship ok? Also told you that killing him wouldn’t be a solution for her but thiiiis? YES SIS

Lord Amos Bolton was a creature carved in shadow and steel. His presence itself was enough to send shivers down the spine of the bravest men of all Westeros. Stern and merciless, with his eyes as dark as coal, men whispered in fearful tones about his reputation for if there was one person responsible for entwining the name Bolton with torture it was him. His most creative punishment? Feeding men alive to his monstrous dogs. 

The kennel he kept was infamous, filled with massive, snarling beasts bred to kill but with a loyalty to him so absolute they’d obey to his sole fingersnaps. To Amos, dogs were perfect creatures - powerful yet obedient, violent yet faithful, unlike men. And unlike men, who he only sought to control and break, Amos genuinely cared for the brutes. 

Control was a need that consumed him, a need that drove every manipulative whisper or brutal act of his. It ran through his veins, exhilarating. And yet, behind the closed door of the marital bedroom, that beloved control started to slip through his fingers after he had hurt his Queen in a moment of madness.

That night he had entered the bedroom, closing the heavy wooden door behind him, before slowly heading toward the bed where Heavenerys was sitting, looking through the windows with sheer melancholy inhabiting her divine traits. With her long white hair and glowing eyes, she embodied his stark opposite: a blazing star in the midst of his darkness. 

She barely acknowledged him.

Light of my life, I beg you to speak to me. My mind is growing restless without the enchanting melody of your voice calling my name. It was what he had said countless times since his horrid acts — acts that had horrified him despite they were the reaping of his own sows — yet, Amos knew that even begging wouldn’t work. He had wronged her too deeply for words to mend her. Instead, he just walked toward the majestic mahogany wardrobe, opened the last drawer, and pulled a long and heavy chain out of it. The metal rattled and chimed against the floor as he headed toward the queen, dragging the chain.  

At this blood-chilling sound, Heavenerys looked up to him with fear in her fire-ice eyes but all she was met with was her husband’s compliant expression. His irises, two pools of the darkest ink, bore into hers. 

“Light of my life…” His soft, velvet voice drawled with utter tenderness, “I beg you not to turn your face away from me. Please.” 

She didn’t, something in his tone fanning the fire of her curiosity despite the ache in her soul.  

Now that he was her sole focus, Amos slowly dropped to his knees in front of her while lifting his strong hands to the collar of his loose black linen shirt, “I know none of my pleas will ease your soul from my wickedness, and for that, I’ll pay for the rest of my life. All I can do is offer you what is the dearest to me. I hope you’ll accept it as a sign of my guilt and devotion to you.”  As he spoke he unbuttoned his shirt, charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes, especially the left one, just above the adorable little mole on his cheekbone that endeared her so much. With the burdens of his shirt buttons being taken care of, his sly fingers then curled around the collar of his shirt to open it entirely. The moonlight shone on the bare skin of his muscular chest the queen usually loved to peppered with kisses whenever she stroked his hardened length before sleeping, whether they just had sex or not. But tonight, it wasn’t his seductive silhouette that made her heart skip a beat, but rather the thick, massive leather dog collar around his neck.

Heavenerys fleshy lips parted at the obscene sight, her little hands clenching on her bare thighs the revealing nightgown she was wearing showed. 

“Amos! What does this folly mean?!” She gasped, her mind buzzing as she recognized the choker from the kennel, having seen many of them around his mutts. She had barely posed her question when the tall darkness gently laid the heavy chain on her lap — not a chain, she realized, a leash.

“Chain me, my Queen. Break me as I deserve.” He begged, dark eyes gleaming with pain and his usually smug expression turned into a submissive pout that made him even more irresistible. Amos tilted his head on one side to give her full access to the silver ring of his collar, just where she could hook the leash.

The luminous Queen felt heat pooling between her legs, her thighs timidly rubbing against each other as her arousal built up within. Her fingers ghosted over the cold metal, tempted.

“Make me crawl at your feet, and I will bear it gladly.” The cold stone floor was biting into his knees, but he hardly noticed. His trembling hands softly ran up her legs and stopped on her knees to part her thighs wide.

“I’ll serve you, not as a husband for I don’t deserve the title, but as your dog. As the miserable mutt I am.”  Gently, Amos leaned to graze the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with his lips, his wet flesh ghosting over her before he gave one sensual lick. The sensation sent shooting stars to her stomach. 

“Would you really… obey?” She dared ask with her Bambi lashes batting and her fist tight around the leash.

“Command me and I will obey without question, for I have no power anymore — only the mercy you choose to give.”

Amos Bolton might be feared by all, but it was his queen who held the reins — his only weakness and, perhaps, his only salvation. 

That was how the little dragon found herself bouncing on his laps furiously, the tender walls of her soaked cunt clenching around his cock and her cries of pleasure echoing shamelessly through Dreadfort’s halls. 

“Hev — Please.” 

The little pathetic whine that left his ordinarily arrogant mouth made her plump lips curl in a sadistic grin. 

“Oh no my Lord, I fear we can’t stop yet,” She cooed in a voice so gentle one might have believed she was sincere — but it was quite apart the malice sparking in her eyes.

“I can’t — I can’t take it anymore…”  Amos’ fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as he clung to her, reduced to a sobbing mess. The noise of their fucking resounded with a quick rhythm. 

“I know it hurts but just one more time, will you? I thought you loved watching me drip with your cum. Watching me open my legs and show you how good you’ve used me.” 

Amos closed his eyes and buried his face in her small breasts for an only reply, whimpering.  The sensation of his beard rubbing on her bosom paired with the sight of his rosy cheeks and black, disheveled, strands of hair sticking to his forehead was rendering her feral. 

“Be a good boy and fucking look at me.” Heavenerys snarled, tugging on his leash with such a brutal movement that the tall darkness coughed, his whole body shaking like a leaf. She was determined to milk him dry.

Blood beaded from where he scratched her.

To be fair, she would get use to it. Really quickly. Hell, she was already thinking of placing a fixing on the wall to keep him chained like a good dog.

He looked up, eyes half closed and glazed. The drool that had pooled at the right corner of his lip trickled down his stubbled chin. Bolton exhaled loudly, welcoming the pain nonetheless. After all, it was her right to punish him. He had earned it a thousandfold.

“Please,” He moaned in her sinful mouth, the word barely audible for his voice cracked under the weight of his pride vanishing, “Please, my Light… Forgive me.” 

She slammed her hips against his in one forceful movement before gripping his cock tighter, and this time, he burst into tears for real. Her firework-like climax washed over her at the same time for being the witness of how he became vulnerable and soiled in ways he despised — but couldn’t resist — was ecstatic. 

When Heavenerys was done with him, she left the bed, long milky ropes trailing down her thighs and tits, and headed to the door with the firm intention of leaving him all alone as he deserved to be. What she didn’t expect was Amos grabbing her hand, kneeling in front of her once again despite his strained bare body that threatened to collapse at any time. The chain-leash was still dangling from his dog collar.

He looked at her through dark lashes, his breath now ragged and his voice quaking with shame, “Hurt me.  Hurt me all over again if you wish but… Please,”  He begged, stripped raw and broken, “Do not cast me away.” 

Because no matter what he did, no matter how unyielding and terrifying he was, he’d rather die as her dog than live without her. 

AU family: @justrainandcoffee @evita-shelby @cillmequick @mischievouslittlecreature @shelbydelrey @peakyswritings @darklydeliciousdesires @lunarubra @zablife (thought @elizabethblood9 would love some smut with Ben Barnes too)

*Amos is the AU version of Aleksander. Heaven is the mc in the Aleksander Morozova x reader fic Echo of Shadows