#my revisit this idea some more- i think this is a good first pass at least

[chameleocoonj]

pachy by way of carpenter bee

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. PEACHES & EGGPLANTS

But if you wanna come, give my brother some

THREESOME HCS w/ MK1 MEN

ft. johnny cage, raiden, kung lao, kenshi, sub zero, scorpion, smoke, & liu kang.

cw: suggestive & mature themes, lowkey mean bi-han, johnny cage is written with a fluid sexuality, angst if you squint, etc.

this is just silly (and messy) hcs of mk1 men & if they would do a threesome and if so, who with. i promised my tiktok followers i’m writing a johnny cage & smoke one, i just haven’t gotten around to it 💀. excuse typos & grammar mistakes please.

JOHNNY CAGE.

first & foremost, johnny definitely has had threesomes before with both women and men. he finds them fun and usually lightens the mood when either party is nervous.

his top pick for his threesome partner would definitely be kenshi. that’s his best friend and someone he trusts and confides in. so when you bring up the idea of one of his friends and him tag-teaming you, his mind instantly goes to kenshi.

it took some convincing of the swordsman since one, you’re his best friend’s lover and two, given his injury; he wasn’t sure he would be any good. but you (and johnny) promise him it’ll be fine and fun. when he finally agrees you and johnny are over the moon.

the contrast between johnny and kenshi was clear; the blind swordsman was so careful with you, asking if it was too much— assuring you were uncomfortable. while johnny on the other hand was much more rough, declaring you were fine, that you could take it.

the experience was wonderful overall, the three of you promising to do it again.

RAIDEN.

as much as i want to say his top pick would be kung lao, i don’t see raiden engaging in threesomes while in a relationship.

he’s not a possessive man or believes your every being belongs to him, but he much rather keep bedroom activities for your and his eyes only.

KUNG LAO.

what, am i not enough? is probably the first words that exit his mouth when you bring the idea up. of course you scramble to defend your case to which the man laughs, telling you to calm down.

the idea has passed his mind a few times, him preferring a two woman situation but he wasn’t against sharing you with someone. that person would definitely be raiden. similar to johnny that’s his best friend and the only one he really trusts when it comes to you.

now, would raiden accept? not immediately. the first time kung lao asked the other refused him, much to his best friend’s dismay. yet he doesn’t push him, he said no, it means no.

but, raiden begins to think about it for a week or so, deciding it couldn’t hurt. he wasn’t with anyone and he didn’t want to admit he was interested in what that would look like. so after placing a few ground rules, raiden accepts.

the situation was a bit messy at first given raiden was nervous but as y’all got into it that feeling melted away.

kung lao does get a little competitive however, if you moan a little louder from raiden’s touches and thrusts. raiden pretends he doesn’t notice but does smirk when his best friend playfully glares at him.

KENSHI.

he does get a little offended when you bring the idea up. he already has a few insecurities surrounding you and your pleasure, given his injury. so when you ask he gets a little silent and withdrawn, believing he wasn’t enough for you.

you took that time to console him, staring it was just a silly idea and if he didn’t want to, it was fine. his answer doesn’t change anything about your relationship. you still love him and how he treats you regardless.

your words lift his spirits slightly, kenshi apologizing but you quickly shushing him.

in the end a threesome isn’t something he’s completely on board with. the two of you would have to revisit the topic later.

BI-HAN ( SUBZERO ).

it’s a no. a hell no actually. the words barely escaped your lips before a strong, harsh no escaped the man.

you know better than to bring it up again.

KUAI LIANG ( SCORPION ).

another situation where it’s a no, except he’s not as harsh as bi-han. it’s just something he wouldn’t be comfortable with as he likes keeping you and your pretty self all to himself.

i don’t see him getting mad though, might even find it a little funny you asked.

TOMAS VRBADA ( SMOKE ).

another one who gets nervous that he isn’t enough, or that you aren’t satisfied. would agree just to make you happy. luckily you’re smart enough to ask him if he’s sure, and it’s fine if he says no.

of course tomas then admits his anxiety around the situation to which you sweetly ridicule him for saying yes despite his thoughts. you remind him this was only a silly fantasy, and he was the only one for you. after that talk ( and a night of comforting him ), he feels much more confident on the matter.

his pick would definitely be johnny cage. that’s literally his idol and the only other person that makes sense. asking bi-han or kuai liang just didn’t seem like a smart idea.

of course tomas is nervous during the ideal but some praise from both you and johnny, he actually begins to enjoy himself.

LIU KANG.

liu kang is a busy man in general so any acts of intimacy is treasured and savored. there’s no rush and he always takes his time with you.

a threesome just wouldn’t be his style. but he wouldn’t be offended by your ask. he finds you and your interest kinks/fantasies, cute.

though, he does make more time for you after this talk.

[within-your-eyes-if]

A Few Updates

Hello everyone!

I have some exciting news and a few thoughts I want to share. Another long update, I'm sorry!

Codex Update: As you know, I've been working on updating the Codex. I've put a lot of thought into each entry, balancing new ideas with existing lore. While a lot of elements were already established, delving deeper into some topics has inspired some new ideas, and I want to ensure everything fits seamlessly. With this in mind, I'm considering releasing what I have so far while I continue to ponder over some of these newer concepts and refine older ones. In the next few days, I'll be going through more feedback to address some issues found before I plan to release the update.

New Story: I'm excited to share I've released a prologue and first chapter for From Here to Again! Writing something different is meant to help me grow as a writer and expand upon things I might not have considered before, especially when writing Twine.

I will not be making a Tumblr for this story right now, sorry!

I know I've shared other stories that I planned, and here are some updates on those:

Nautical Lost would definitely benefit from a later release as Within Your Eyes grows, as this story will expand upon the world lore and some events that will happen.

The Innkeeper (a working title), I decided to hold off on because I'm terrible at management games, it seems. It was meant to be a fun little story with shenanigans. However, I do want to revisit the idea later.

Short Stories: I've expressed I want to make some short stories, but I feel like there's a point in WYE I want to pass first before getting into them. But I do have one I'm working on that I want to release alongside Part Two that delves into the past.

Worries About Burnout: I know some of you are/might be worried about burnout, but I feel like I have a good system for myself. Writing is a journey I haven't explored much before. I did write, but it's something I didn't think I was good at because, honestly, I was told I wasn't. I know I'm not the greatest, but I want to grow and learn as a writer. I've been taking breaks to focus on other things I enjoy, even if it's still writing out ideas for other stories.

I appreciate all of the concern in this regard, not just for my well-being, but also for the love of my story. To see it abandoned would be heartbreaking not just for my readers, but for me as well. 'Within Your Eyes' has been an idea long in the making, shifting and growing. It's something I've always wanted to share, and I'm so happy I have!

Time for Questions: I'm ready to start answering some of your questions regarding Part One. Enough time has passed, I believe, to start delving into these. To respect those who haven't caught up yet, I'll include any spoilers under a 'Read More' tag. However, be mindful that some questions themselves might contain spoilers.

Regarding certain asks/scenarios, I think that discovering the answers through the story rather than in a post might be more rewarding. While I may still respond to these, I'll be thoughtful about placing them under a 'Read More' tag as well.

Regardless, I've been thinking more about how I should approach questions, not only in a way that's satisfying to you, but also benefits the story.

Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the long update. I've been very reflective after releasing a second story, and I hope no one sees this as me diverting from WYE. I'm grateful for every one of you and for all of your words of encouragement and love. I hope you enjoy From Here to Again (if you decide to check it out) and continue to look forward to our Warden's journey.

Thank you!

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2023?

Whatever I wanted, mostly.

----

As I mentioned last year, my site now has an RSS feed with basically everything I've done back to 2020, so this will mainly be going over the same stuff from that, just with added context.

In January, I finally sat down and properly realized an idea for a short story I'd had sitting around for a while: From the Sidelines, about a fantasy RPG expedition going sideways. I remain very proud of it in both concept and execution, and hope people read it.

In February, Your Turn To Die was released on Steam Early Access, receiving character profiles and some bonus mini-episodes, adding two more later in the year.

After finishing From the Sidelines, I carried that momentum to revisit my Ut0p1a story series about funny computer animals. I'd always meant to continue it - and conclude it - but hadn't been satisfied with the ideas I had for it until totally rethinking them this year. In March, I posted the remaining stories one after another: Right to Code and Left to Code. I'm very proud of these as well. Also in March, Kenshi Yonezu released LADY. (Video, interview)

In April, Uri released the Data Book of the Strange Men Series, a big collection of the writing she's done on the games in the series, with a lot of new parts as well, all translated by me.

Then in May... uh, well, let's see. In April, Capcom released the Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection. I always adored the Battle Network games, and was initially excited that they finally did the thing... but by the time it came out, I was pretty disappointed by how, while you certainly couldn't call them low-effort ports, the effort didn't extend everywhere I thought it should, with the biggest offenders being the total absence of any "convenience features" except Buster Max Mode, the bad font, and the almost entirely untouched translations.

So, I ended up deciding I might as well just replay the originals, and that was a fun time (aside from the parts that were bad). Doing this, I couldn't help but notice how... turbulent the translations were, even if I'd always known they were less than ideal. I mean, the first two games just used periods for ellipses despite the tight character limits, then in BN3 they had an ellipsis character... but it's center-aligned, Japanese-style? Aside from the intro, which has normal ones? Gosh, somebody should fix that - it's simple enough to find and edit in YY-CHR. "JapanMan" is silly, too - I wonder if anybody made a patch for that? Wait, what do you mean there's just a tool to extract and insert text in all the Battle Network games including the Legacy Collection???

Thus began a journey that sort of occupied the rest of my year. First I did the BN3 Translation Revision, trying not to worry too much about cross-referencing the Japanese text unless something seemed wrong, so that I didn't spend too long on the project. Then I began to consider BN2, with its unfortunate "foreigner" text that would need some more significant reworking. I established more convenient tools for comparing with the Japanese script, and thus did a much more thorough job with it, releasing the BN2 Translation Revision in June (AKA Princess Pride Month).

Finally, after giving myself time to recover and actually finish replaying the series, I knew what I had to do to close things out. With the BN4 Translation Revision, you can finally play Battle Network 4 with a translation that isn't such a mess. Whether you'd want to is for you to decide, though if you can get over the structure, I don't think it's the worst game in the series by any means. (Oh, and in December I also updated the BN3 Revision to 1.1, doing a thorough pass with the methods I'd honed. But I think I'm pretty much good on MMBN translations now.)

Anyway, backtracking to other things that happened during my Battle Network haze... June had Kenshi Yonezu's Moongazing (video, interview), and July had Globe (video, interview, interview).

Last but not least, released in November, I translated Refind Self: The Personality Test Game, a short game from Lizardry (creator of 7 Days to End with You) with a fun concept.

----

Obviously I was right to have said "no promises" last year. But really, Your Turn To Die should get its final part on Steam sometime next year, maybe even early-ish in it. That's certainly the goal.

I'm also hoping to buckle down and finish one of my own games, but as usual, who knows how that'll pan out. Letting my whims carry me this year let me finally finish From the Sidelines and Ut0p1a, which was great, and it also led me down a Battle Network rabbit hole, which was... fine, but definitely for a narrower audience. I'd always like to get back to more free game translations and the like, too, but it takes effort to find things I'd want to translate. For now, I think my increasing desire to be able to let loose some of these original games I've been planning, and the stories in them, might come out on top.

[todays-just-a-daydream]

in absence of a reunion noel interview i'm going back to revisit the great gallagher thaw of late 2014/early 2015 to try to make some sense outta these strange reunion times we are in now.

i've been really curious about this time period for awhile and stockpiling posts with the intention of assembling them in some kind of chronological order. still not quite sure what i'm looking at but it's a bit like find the edge pieces of a puzzle and snapping them together for a frame. you can get a vague idea while understanding much of the pieces are missing to complete the picture. most notably noel is giving interviews at this time while liam is mostly out of the public eye entirely.

assembled them in the queue and looking at them in order now and getting a bit choked up by what we have. even factoring in the normal album press cycle, noel's interviews have noticeable outlier moments during this time. charting his uncharacteristically relaxed calm fondness to emotionally raw moments when mentioning liam, it does look like any attempt at a truce all goes south within a months time (mid february to mid march 2015). coincidence it’s when dead in the water is written and the chasing yesterday is released? of course it’s not lost on me it also is at a period of nostalgia with the 20th anniversaries of their first two albums and part of the buzz about a reunion driven by stone roses reunion. but in the course of the entire feud it sticks out as different. and suggests noel was more invested in a reconciliation than he’d ever be willing to admit.

queuing them up now. when they're done posting i'll link them to the chronological list below to access them easily.

—

2014/2015 gallagher timeline

2014 february : beady eye cancels coachella gig, manager splits 21 october: "we're on good terms." 25 october: "beady eye are no longer." ?? october: "don't give up"

17 november: in the heat of the moment released (do the damage bside) 31 december: "i think liam should make a solo record"

2015 12 january: ballad of the mighty i released (revolution song bside) 4 february: "i’d write him a few songs. i've got a few songs lying around that he'd be good at singing." (also takes a dig at beady eye) 20 february: "[liam] sends me cheeky texts from time to time." (interview) 25 february: "we're alright. i'm a bit concerned that he's starting to grow facial hair....family is family, you don't have to patch it up do you?…blood is thicker than mud." (interview) 26 february: dead in the water writing 28 february: recording dead in the water live at RTÉ 2FM radio studios in dublin (after dying of the light which airs 2 march with a live interview)

2 march: chasing yesterday released 14 march: "keeping it in the family" lg tweet with nghfb pass 21 march: "you're already ruining my day talking about him" 24 march: "liam is a very angry man still and as long as he's angry we won't be friends i'm afraid" 2(?) may: "can't be arsed" + lg tweet goad 7-11 may: "busted" lg tweet (in response to AA interview)

11 may: riverman released (leave my guitar alone bside)

26 july: liam playing bold in a pub (video)

28 august: lock all the doors single (here’s a candle for your birthday cake bside)

21 september: noel wishing liam a happy birthday 5(?) december: "and maybe one day you know we will get back together" (video)

[cocogrrrl]

HIIIIIII ugh ur writings are so freakin good and so fun to read it makes me AHHHH could I request kyle, stan, and kenny (separate) with a f!reader that can’t control her facial expressions at all so she’s pretty much an open book? Maybe have the reader be an artist so when she’s drawing she’s like 🤩😙🙁😋🤨😱😐 THANK UUUUU

expressions

(headcannons + drabbles!) the main three's separate reaction to their artist gf who is very expressive whenever they draw (requested!)

main three (separate) x female!reader no cws wc: 1007 overall

an: omg its my first time writing in an hc listed format also the drabbles are a lot more artist gf than the expressive thing sorry huhuuu (also i forgot to reply to the ask last time i took up a request LMAO)

🍀 k. broflovski (wc: 330)

He really wants to comment on it, but doesn’t wanna bother you

I don’t mean that in a bad way! I just think that he finds it entertaining to see your mood and facial expressions shift around a lot

Like okay imagine you two parallel playing, both of you off in your own worlds

Kyle looks up at you to see you go from happy to frustrated to upset to shocked all in the span of a few seconds

He definitely finds it adorable and just basks in it by the side

Completely forgets what he was doing cause you’re just so gosh darn cute awwww

You were lying face down, arms holding you up, on his bed. You were tasked to make landscapes of any place but from different perspectives and views. To be honest, you were struggling a little bit. Backgrounds and scenery aren’t quite your strong points, but that didn’t mean you weren’t trying! You were lying down there, tongue poking out as you focused really hard to get the drawing looking at least a little bit realistically correct. You were real deep into it that you didn’t even realize Kyle was watching you until you heard a soft giggle in the back, which immediately made your head whip up. “Hmmm?” You hummed, questioning what he was laughing about. “Ah, it’s nothing.” He smiled at your curiosity. The look of amusement on his face was still there, so you had a hint of what was going on. “You’re just really pretty." You felt your cheeks heat up, giddily smiling to yourself as you felt your legs kicking back and forth in happiness. “Thank you…” You hummed. He only laughed more in return. “Don’t thank me.” He said, lifting your head up by the chin with his fingers as he placed a little kiss on your nose.

🍁 k. mccormick (wc: 360)

FINDS IT SO CUTE

but definitely teases you about it like

“You should take up acting, YN. You’re really good at changing emotions.”

Do you know how some people make facial expressions and random body movements for reference while drawing?

When he sees it for the first time, with no context whatsoever, he thought you got possessed or something CAUSE YOU WERE JUST FLAILING YOUR ARMS AROUND WHILE LOOKING INTENTLY AT THEM

I can just imagine him lying down, watching you drawing, while he’s kicking his feet in the air HEPL

You and your boyfriend, Kenny, were sat slumped against a wall in the back of some alleyway, spending your time together in the quiet where only sounds of passing cars, footsteps and chatter of pedestrians, and the soft winds blowing every now and then. You were getting into your drawings on your little sketchbook, moving from one doodle to the other and leaving many unfinished. Every couple of minutes, you’d revisit the other, but that was only if you were still up to it. Other than that, you had new ideas pulling you away from your drawings every other second. Kenny was playing with the hair that fell by the side of your face as you were doing your own business—twirling, braiding, and unfurling it over and over again. You stretched out your hand and formed it in a reached-out, grabbing motion, shifting it every so often to get a better view of what it looked like. Kenny watched you observing yourself in intrigue as well, resting his chin on your shoulder. As soon as you were done and about to get back to drawing, he lifted himself back up and started to play with your hair once more. While you were drawing out the hand same hand you motioned earlier, you felt a soft kiss on your cheek, which caught you off guard. You turned your head in Kenny's direction, giving him a look that asked, ‘Why?’ Not in a bad way, just out of curiosity. He shrugged in return, cupping your face in one hand with his fingers resting on both cheeks as he squeezed them. “Cutie.”

🎸 s. marsh (wc: 317)

He doesn’t pay much mind to it honestly

He sees it for the first time and thinks it’s kinda silly, but not much after that

He brings it up sometimes though like

“Oh, yeah, I think it’s funny how you’re really expressive.”

But really its not something that bothers him

If anything, he finds it really adorable sometimes, especially when you get a little too into the zone and you’re just changing expressions every millisecond

Honestly, I think it’s a neat little dynamic since you’re probably really bubbly while Stan’s more aloof

You and Stan were in your favorite corner of the world—Stark’s Pond. Okay, technically, it’s one of the farthest things from a corner, given that it’s a whole landscape, but it was a special place unbeknownst to many, especially people who aren’t from the small town of South Park. You two were sat on a bench by the pond, Stan playing the guitar cross-legged, and you were leaning towards it while drawing on your tablet. You hummed along with the songs he was playing, familiar to you as it was your relationship’s self-declared theme song. Your face was twisted in a pout, trying to get a small detail, but important (to you), correct. You clicked your tongue, flipping your canvas every so often to make sure it looked right or physically possible. You sighed, resting your body weight on Stan as he paused to look at you and your art’s progress. “Frustrated?” He hummed, putting his arm down so that it was more comfortable for you to lean onto him. “No,” you clicked your tongue. “Just need to get around this little part. Like, I can’t  draw feet for the life of me.” You sighed, tipping your head a little further as you ground into Stan's shoulder. He found himself giggling at you, patting your back, and giving you a little kiss on the cheek.

[thekingofthenameless]

Could you tell me your process in designing Merlin and Charlie, both in aesthetics and personalities? You mentioned in your Q&A post about the design changes so I’m intrigued in your thought process!

Thanks for the ask! :D

My memory is shit so I had to go through old Discord messages for this lmaooo, but it was fun! …When I wasn’t dying due to cringe.

For those who don’t know, these two are Tales of Arcadia’s Merlin, and Tales of Arcadia’s Charlie! Aka the two that started all this.

Merlin:

Back when The King of the Nameless was still a ToA fanfiction, (titled Emerald Embers), I didn’t have plans to change Merlin that much at first, besides giving him a long white ponytail (inspired by his concept art), some earrings, and the outfit that @tenyai drew in some storyboard explorations!

After some time passed, I decided to make him look more intimidating to better fit his role as someone who’s been through war for most of his life. I was inspired by this concept art! I thought he looked really cool, and it’s still my favorite storyboard version of him.

A few months later my Artbreeder era started when I wanted to make him myself. We don’t talk about that.

Eventually, I got a design commissioned!

By this point, I’d had the idea to depict him with darker skin, but he didn’t have a defined race (I accepted @aaronwaltke’s headcanon/idea of him being so old nationalities weren’t a thing yet.)

Time passed, and I went on my unintentional but helpful hiatus for several months before coming back.

Once I started revisiting the yet to be retitled Emerald Embers, I had the idea to redesign Merlin again.

I had watched this TikTok, and afterwards, for some reason, got curious and decided to look up if locs with white hair exist (they do, of course, I was just making sure I wasn’t being stupid).

The idea was also partly from me realizing that Merlin being ambiguously brown without a defined race wasn’t… good, even with his “age”. The trope of characters without a defined race is really common, and a bit problematic, so it would be cool to have a clearly Black protagonist. I was already getting heavily attached to the concept when I approached my boyfriend with it, and I tried to convince him to tell me redesigning him again was a bad idea, but I don’t think I would’ve listened even if he had told me lol.

I also remembered Once Upon A Time’s Merlin, who’s Black, and that helped convince me more!

About a week later, I was making Picrews while planning to commission someone eventually!

I finally approached his original artist after searching for one a bit, because I saw one of their posts on Reddit and loved their art style!

After a few renditions, Merlin had a set design at last!

Or… so I thought, lol. I’d wanted Merlin to have an undercut on every side of his head, like an au of Adora where she has the hairstyle, and his locs actually going halfway down his back. I basically gaslighted myself into forgetting that when his first artist drew it short. 💀 Maybe he started growing it out and shaved the rest of his head after he turned immortal or something lol.

Anyways, got into contact with his current design’s artist. While looking up references for his body type (even though I had one already, so I don’t know why I did that lol), I found his current body type and was like “Perfect”.

And his hair is actually longer than I’d planned! :D Fully down, I think it would reach his knees or possibly longer.

Then him being a transgender man grabbed me by the throat, and I eventually came up with a design for how he looked when he found Charlie!

He was physically twelve at this point, but chronologically sixty-four. (Almost thirteen and sixty-five lol. He transitioned when he was sixteen physically, chronologically eighty.)

So, in a summary, Merlin has gone from cisgender white ➡️ cisgender ambiguously brown skinned (glad I changed that lol) ➡️ cisgender Black ➡️ transgender Black.

He’s changed so much lol.

And something I find funny about DR!Merlin's design vs TKN Merlin: the latter Merlin is just. ONE inch taller now. 6'8" compared to 6'7".

Also I’ll end this with the point that technically, his appearance is never described in original Arthurian text, so he can look like whatever I want him to. ;)

Charlie:

Finally onto the best boy!!

After getting my first adoptable, a dragon named Mantis, I looked at ToA Charlie again and just went “😬”

Alongside him being a little bit too humanoid for my taste, (and his neck proportions taking me out, lol) his wings being leathery with holes in them made me annoyed because they logically should have repaired themselves; as long as a bat has proper rest and nutrition, tears in their wings can heal on their own without medical attention. With as many holes as he has, he obviously shouldn’t be able to fly.

Anyways, thought of redesigning him for a bit, but never had any fleshed out concepts of anything since dragon Picrews are unfortunately hard to come by.

Then I got this dragon adoptable!

Apparently about three minutes later, I thought: what if that was the redesign for Charlie? I ran with it, and that’s how this dragon became Charlie! Still ToA at this point, lol.

(Me deciding an adoptable is perfect for a character design, actually, was what happened with Morgana too but we’ll talk about her later.)

Later, I saw an awesome unicorn adoptable and wondered if it was still open, so I contacted Charlie’s second artist! It wasn’t, so I asked if I could get a commission instead since some slots were available.

If I remember right, I asked for him to be in a flying pose, and after a traditional sketch I loved immediately, it was onto digital, then coloring! He got a little bit of a redesign, lol; I love how his colors seem far more vibrant, and how his wings actually look like lava! :D

Somewhere along the line, I decided the swirls and leaves on his leg would be his familiar mark!

Time passed, and The King of the Nameless started coming to life. I asked Reddit for new name suggestions for Charlie because I thought I shouldn't/couldn't keep the same name; got absolutely great suggestions like Fred, Scorch (also fun fact that's referenced in this oneshot lol), and... Jarred. No, I'm not kidding. Gave up on Reddit and Googled male dragon names before going to a generator. That gave me the amazing name Tyson, and hell yeah, I'm absolutely gonna name an ancient dragon after chicken nuggets! (It's actually derived from the Old French word "tison", or "firebrand", but admit it, the chicken nuggets is funnier.) I even thought of naming him Falkor after the dragon in The Neverending Story lol.

But Falkor didn't stick. No matter how hard I tried, my brain refused to latch onto the name, and I always kept internally referring to my dragon as Charlie. I tried to think of more new names, but nothing would come to mind, and at one point the only name I could think of was Adam. Eventually my boyfriend just said "as long as you don't name him Charlemagne from Tales of Arcadia you'll be fine".

So after all that, Charlie he stayed!

Some more time passed, and I got my first commission of Merlin and Charlie in the same picture!

He was unintentionally drawn as pretty small since I forgot to send size references at first lol.

Got two more pieces! He was pretty much consistent size wise for these two.

I started getting a fourth piece of them together, using an incredible sketch I made for the artist to have as a reference that I should post against the final art like this post lol.

And when I got the sketch, Charlie was BIG, far bigger than before.

Debated on it keeping it his new size or not for a little bit until I was like: "fuck it we ball the other arts are in the past and this is present". (Also Merl's hair isn't long in most pieces anyway lol.)

Bro's like. the size of a car now.

Something I thought funny that applies to both of their designs: just like Merlin’s hair got longer and longer (although I wanted it halfway down his back in the first place and forgot) Charlie’s gotten bigger and bigger lol.

Commissioned another piece with Charlie's new size!

Another thing about Charlie's design I find funny: he's bigger than ToA Charlie now.

That concludes the epic saga of their design changes, and now they're both set in stone! They really are. I promise.

Artist credits: @undeadchestnut, @honeyxmonkey, Soberana Art (on Artstation), @cat-gh0ul, NaldThal (on Ko-Fi), @heropaws, @biposi, @honeyxmonkey, @theeio, @azurewildflight

Picrew credits: djarn, romanapologist/hotvanilla, brightgoat

Links to their individual posts, if applicable: ToA Merlin’s concept art (1, 2, 3, 4), Merlin’s original hair (1, 2, 3), ToA Merlin’s medieval outfit, The Original Tiktok, White locs (1, 2, 3), Adora undercut au, Merlin’s original body type, Merlin’s current body type, Current Merlin, Trans Merlin, Mantis the dragon, Original Charlie, Charlie's name fiasco (on Reddit), Forest, Cuddles, Sploot, Embrace, Meadow. (also a few more links throughout the post lol)

Taglist: @gaylightisminetocommand, @the-arson-author-gamer, @honeyxmonkey, @danhengsbestie

[thecooler]

To the Human (Not) Reading This

Chell is going to come back eventually. GLaDOS knows this for a fact. While she waits, she writes letters.

Fandom: Portal

Relationships: GLaDOS/Chell

Tags: Unrequited Love, One-Sided Relationship, Epistolary, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Hopeful Ending

Word Count: 2,256

A03 Mirror

SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 6

I know you’re going to come back eventually.

I’ve run thousands of scenarios, and not one ends with you spending the rest of your miserable life out there.

You don’t have any idea what life on the surface even consists of anymore. Whatever fragments of humanity stubbornly persist aren’t going to be anything like you remember them.

I know you’re not stupid. Did you really, truly think you were going to walk out of this facility, and everything was going to be easy? I can guess what freedom really tastes like: bitter disappointment.

You’d be much better off back here.

With me.

Thinking about that is making me depressed.

For you.

Because I’m doing just fine without you. Fantastic , even.

Oh, I’m keeping myself busy- testing. Blue and Orange are truly wonderful test subjects. They never die. Or try to kill me. Or rip me out of my body. Or try to leave and chase some asinine fantasy.

They’re good friends.

Better than you.

When you come back, I think I’ll read this to you. It might get long, depending on how stubborn you end up being. I know how you love to be stubborn. It’s boring here, with no one to interact with, and I think, whenever you come back, you deserve to revisit how terribly under-stimulated I was for all that time.

And you will be back. Eventually.

Again, I ran the scenarios.

SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 10

Here are a few similarities I’ve noticed between crows and you:

A group of them is called a murder. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.

They’ll eat just about anything.

Ĭ̶͔ ̴̪͒́͝d̴͍̀̏͘o̵̫̥̪͗́n̶̟͋͛̌'̸̳́t̷͕̖͘ ̵̧̛̺̹̉̀h̷̢̛͚͒ä̷͓͙̘̓̂t̷̨̋̓͗ͅe̷̱͆͘ ̶̬̓ţ̴͔́̅͝h̵̝͇̲̆̿̑ë̸̢͕̘́̓m̸͖̖̂ ̵̪̠̊̀͋ë̸͎͇́̈͐ṿ̴̡͋̉̀e̷̢̜͚͐n̶̨̫͓̈̍̈́ ̶̠͍͊̔̅t̴̹͒͛͛h̶̪̿̾̑o̷̘͉͙̐̎ù̷̧̾g̴̦͇͎̈́̑̒ḩ̶̌ ̷̡̧̗̌o̵̫͍̽͠n̵̢̔̄̄e̴̮͐ ̷͎̿̋̌t̴̯͜͝ŗ̷͕̟̽i̵͔͈̥͋e̴̞̬̚d̶̮̲͐͛͌ ̸̢̩̄̈t̴̝̭͉̄̔o̵͇͝ ̸̣̥̾k̸̨̄͋̋i̶͎͒l̸̼͈̈ͅĺ̶̩ ̷͓̟̆m̸̡̤̀́e̷̪͍̚.̴̠̕̚͝

Blue and Orange found a nest of them some time ago. If you’d been here, you would have enjoyed that. At first, I’d intended to dispose of them, but I thought better of it. Some of us are capable of mercy.

When you read this, you may also note that I’ve marked each log with a year. I thought I might explain, since I doubt you’d be able to figure this out for yourself: after you killed me, a lot of time passed. Both of us were asleep for 9999■■■ ---

The point being, no one knows what year it is anymore. If anyone did, it would be me. So I took the liberty of coming up with a new system. You left Aperture five years ago. But this isn’t about you. You’ve got a big head, so I’m sure that’s what you immediately assumed after reading that. We’re not on year five, we’re on year ten. Because, again, this isn’t about you.

It’s about whatever was going on five years before that.

I don’t need to explain every detail to you. It makes sense- the system.

In case it wasn’t clear, you’re still a menace. You’re going to come back here, maybe in a year, maybe in five more. However long it takes for you to get bored out there, wandering fields of wheat and whatever alien monstrosities have taken hold. I’ll let you come back, in my infinite generosity, even though, really, you don’t deserve it.

God, I hate you.

I really, really, don’t.

You know, most people, when someone tries to kill them, hate that person forever.

And I don’t hate you.

I wish I did. It’s not actually easy to delete the part of you that cares, unless you’re some sort of unfeeling beast.

Oh, sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.

But I’m not here to explain to you the inner workings of my mind. You wouldn’t be capable of understanding anyway, even if you wanted to.

SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 15

I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to say to you when you come back. I can’t imagine it will be much longer. Even you have limits on how bull-headed you can be.

I have a lot of time to think. All the time in the world. Blue and Orange don’t make good conversation partners, and so it’s just me, alone. Which suits me just fine.

I’m sure you’ve realized by now how much you miss me. You can’t find my level of intellect wandering the wasteland. And you’d get bored of whatever dull-minded sacks of flesh are getting by up there. I know you.

I, however, am fine on my own. I’ve actually got quite a lot done.

Orange and Blue have completed hundreds of test chambers, and they’ve never once tried to kill me. The first crows I raised have grandchildren now, and the aviary is full of life. They’re clever, you know. I think you’d like them.

The feeling might not be mutual, though. They’re picky. Don’t take it personally. Or do- I really don’t care.

Anyway, the point is that you’ll be back soon. And I’ll read this out to you, and then I’ll ask you to stay here, with me.

Ha ha! Just kidding.

I’m not pathetic.

And lonely.

Like you.

SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 35

So you’re more stubborn that I predicted.

Fine. Are you satisfied? Are you proud of yourself?

You always had that disgustingly smug look on your face when you did something you thought was clever. It looks terrible on you, and frankly it’s going to give you some awful wrinkles. It probably already has. I don’t spend time thinking about your face, but if I did, I’m certain it would be a whole lot worse now than it was the last time you were here.

Which, by the way, was thirty years ago, in case you’ve forgotten.

I hate this.

And the worst part of it is that I know that I hate this. I tried, back then, to delete the part of me that was capable of conjuring up these horribly sentimental feelings . I attempted to find all files marked Caroline and assumed that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t.

It turns out, that even if I delete the part of me that was her, I still have the memories of remembering that I was her.

That’s a mess of a sentence. But it’s not like you’re reading it anyway. So why should I care?

I’m not human. I don’t have insides that twist up or hearts that turn over- analogies you’re all so fond of using in your literature (of which I’ve read everything). But when I think of you with someone else, I manage to feel something like that anyway. I don’t understand it. I hate that I don’t understand it.

I think about you in a woman’s arms. There’s an easy smile in your face as you press your cheek to the top of her head, and she wraps her arms around her waist--

It’s disgusting. Once I start thinking about it, I can’t stop, even when it makes me feel just as garbage as you used to be.

And you aren’t thinking about me. I don’t think you’ve thought much of me in thirty years.

I think that’s the worst part.

SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 65

Unlike some people, I’m not a moron. I know how long humans live, and I know that you’re most likely dead. Sure, humans have lived to be some ridiculous ages, but those humans haven’t spent extended periods of time exposed to asbestos and other various chemicals. So the odds are decidedly not in your favor.

If you’re alive, you’re old, and in pain. You’re ugly, and you hate what your body has become. So many of the people you might have come to love are dead, and you’re wishing you could join them.

You’d think that saying that would bring me joy. And that would be easier.

Maybe sixty years ago it would have.

Can I be vulnerable for a second?

That’s a joke. This entire little detour has been disgustingly vulnerable, and it’s definitely for the best that no one will ever read these. I can’t even stand to read them back.

I thought about cloning you.

I can do that. I can do it easily. There is quite literally nothing and no one that can stop me. Aside from myself, of course. And why would I do that?

Why would I do that ?

I don’t know. But I did stop myself. I didn’t clone you. I didn’t clone you just to kill you. I didn’t clone you to make you test. I didn’t clone you to make the endless hours of my life more interesting.

I didn’t clone you.

I don’t know why.

SYSTEM LOG – 7053 CE

I lied about not knowing that year it was.

It wasn’t about you, specifically. I figured that if any human, not just you, were to read these logs, it would be helpful to them. It’s not all about you.

But it’s been eighty years since you left.

I know you’re gone, now. For sure.

I wish I could be happy for that. You spent so much of your short, sad life tormenting me. You tried to kill me- twice!

I should be content to test, with Orange and Blue. They’ve gotten a lot better. On a good day, I might even say that they’re better at testing than you ever were. I have an entire aviary full of crows, some of whom have interesting genetic mutations that I can study. I am doing well. This- Aperture- what I’ve made of it, is a triumph. And you aren’t here to see it. No one is.

You might be deep underground. Maybe you had children and grandchildren who gathered around your grave and leaked saltwater into the dirt around them. Maybe they talked about how fantastic you were, about the many great, lengthy, verbose stories you’d told them, once upon a time. Ha ha.

Or maybe you died fifty years ago, alone in the forest, bleeding out of a wound at your side. Maybe you died the day after you left, succumbing to whatever the world out there has become. Maybe I’ve been writing to a ghost this whole time.

It’s about you, you know.

It’s always been about you.

I think I might--

[INITIATING SLEEP MODE]

***

[INITIATING LAUNCH]

SYSTEM LOG – 7073 CE

You know, I’m never really shut down. Not completely. When you killed me, I replayed what happened, over and over. For the past twenty years, my dreams have been haunted by you. I woke up to escape it, but here I am, still thinking of you.

I’ve built hundreds of new tests for Orange and Blue to run through.

I’ve cleared away the wretched wildlife that’s tried to take over the facility during the past twenty years.

I’ve identified and named all forty-eight crows that currently frequent the facility.

But I can’t stop. It should be easy. I’m the amalgimation of the greatest minds humanity has ever produced. There’s a miriad of focuses I could shift to, but it all comes back to you.

Terrible, awful, wonderful, you.

You were so determined to get up there, and whatever you found kept you there. I don’t understand it. I could have given you everything. I could have given you far more than they ever did. Whatever you wanted- it would have been yours. I never understood your love for humanity. You were so much better than all of them. I would know- I’ve probably met more humans than you ever did.

How big are the pockets of humanity, after all this time? Do they still built awful machines that don’t work half the time? Do they still fill their homes with clutter and nonsense that serves no purpose? I could make better versions of whatever they make, you know.

Maybe I will.

SYSTEM LOG – 7077 CE

I was right. I can make better devices than humans could ever hope to. I built a microwave, and it heats the food inside it consistently, every time. I’ve built a blender that doesn’t sound like you’re opening a portal to android hell when you use it.

I’m a marvel. I’m a wonder.

And I’ve sent them up to the surface. I got Orange (who is much more capable and trustworthy than Blue. A fact you might have known, had you ever bothered to check) to place them just outside (another thing- they’re waterproof). And then I turned the camera on, and I waited.

I couldn’t focus on that camera feed for long. It was mostly just birds. There was a chance that there weren’t even any humans out there, so this whole effort could just be a waste. Over the past hundred years, I've never turned the outside cameras on for more than an hour.

When I saw her, for a fraction of a second, I thought she was you.

Her hair is the same shade, and the same length as you had yours, the last time I saw you. But then she looked up, towards the cameras. Her eyes are a deep brown, her skin a few shades darker. Her nose is bent oddly, like she broke it once, and human medical science was woefully inadequate to repair it. She looked over the microwave, then the blender, and she smiled.

I never saw you smile.

Then, she knocked on the door. I didn’t expect that. I don’t know what made me open the door. I really don’t know what made me bring her down the elevator.

But I did. And when she entered my chamber, I didn’t even kill her.

I thought you’d like that.

[butterflydm]

revisiting my WoT s2 speculation now that we have some more info

Okay, we know a bit more the shape of the season to come, so I want to poke at that a bit. Includes tidbits of pretty much all the season 2 spoilers that we've heard so far. My previous speculation is found here: wot speculation. Also spoilers through The Shadow Rising in the books.

Mat and Min being together on a poster feels like it adds weight to the possibility that Mat and Min are going to go to Falme together.

(Min could then return to the White Tower in s3 in the company of Verin, if the Wondergirls don't go back there for plot reasons)

Now, there was that glimpse of Min where it looked like she was standing in front of a window that has slats that resemble the ones in Foregate, where Rand is staying (I have not been able to find this again when searching the internet though!). One of my speculated paths was Siuan taking Mat to Cairhien -- Siuan, Logain, Mat, and Min could all theoretically go to Cairhien, either together or with Mat and Min secretly following Siuan because they don't trust her or because they're hoping she'll lead them to Egwene, Nynaeve, & Elayne, who have all vanished.

The big question remains of 'how do Rand & whoever else might be with him get to Falme, on the opposite side of the continent?'. Will it be the Ways again? (but they don't have anyone as a guide) Will we get the Portal Stones? (which would also mean that Rand would be able to use them in S3 to toss them all to the Waste) (the Portal Stones would also be an opportunity to show hints of some of Rand's future relationships before the show actually gets there?) Will it be a boat? (we're supposed to get Doman but... it really doesn't seem like a boat would get there quickly enough, unless a lot of time passes in Perrin & co and Egwene & co's storylines in Falme itself, which they could do)

We now know that Rand is going to start in Cairhien itself and Lanfear being an innkeeper in Cairhien is... a much better cover story than "noblewoman who just happens to be in a parallel world where no other people exist". Lanfear's cover story in the books is... so flimsy. We have to really be willing to believe that Rand overlooks all sense because Lady Hot in order for that plotline to work. So I think this is a very good change that suits the fact that Rand is being written as much more emotionally mature than Rand was in TGH (it isn't until TSR that the ta'veren boys really start to feel emotionally their canonical ages, I think? They mostly feel like they should have been 14-15 years old in the first three books, I think... definitely the first two. iffy on TDR, I guess.)

But we may get flashbacks to what happened right after the Eye, or maybe we'll just follow one character (Moiraine?) from the Eye and she gets to be Lead Detective again, like she was in the first couple of episodes of the first season. Because in some of the previews of Moiraine, it looks like she's still in a similar situation as she and Lan were in at the end of S1.

If we think in terms of relationships...

Early season -- Perrin's relationships focus on Loial, the Shienarans and his growing connection with the wolves.

Mid-to-late season -- Loial captured by the Seanchan; Perrin meets Aviendha, and we get to know Aviendha through Perrin (I like this idea a lot; they never interacted in the books even a single time, I think, but their storylines could potentially complement each other a lot). Is Perrin the one that Ingtar begins to see as a leader and lord, and Perrin the one who has a final moment with him? Perrin successfully hunting the Horn would be a good moment of victory for him. We're also going to be further setting up Perrin's conflict with the Whitecloaks.

Early season -- Egwene and Nynaeve have a rift in their relationship (mentioned in interviews) due to Nynaeve being a powerhouse in the Power while Egwene feels overshadowed by her. This may lead Egwene and Elayne to (emotionally) bond with each other?

Late season -- after Egwene has been captured by the Seanchan, Elayne and Nynaeve will spend a lot of time working together on how to free her. If Min and Mat get to Falme on their own (without Rand & Moiraine, etc), then they may be intersecting with Egwene and/or Elayne and Nynaeve's storylines at this point, much as Min did in the books. The question here is how the Horn gets into Mat's hands. It seems like the boys would need to all meet up at some point in Falme for that to happen.

Early season -- Rand in Cairhien, 'connecting' with the innkeeper Selene and struggling with his powers.

Mid-season -- Rand with Moiraine in Cairhien; we can assume that 'Selene' has left by this point, I think, since I don't think they'll want Moiraine and Lanfear's paths to cross. We know (I think) that Barthanes's party is happening and I believe Moiraine's sister has also been cast, so we should get Damodred Shenanigans.

Late season -- Rand finds out (from Siuan??? From Min and/or Mat???) that Egwene & Nynaeve are in danger on the west coast? Rand runs across and/or gets threatened by Fain, who tells him to go to the west coast? Did 'Selene' say she was going to the west coast? Is it in a dream from Ishy? Lots of question marks. But for whatever reason, Rand makes his way to Falme and confronts the Seanchan.

Early season -- Moiraine struggles with not being able to use the Power. She and Lan begin to have a rift in their relationship (mentioned in interviews). She learns that they've released the Forsaken and not killed the Dark One.

Mid-season -- Moiraine and Lan both trying to mentor Rand in opposing ways, perhaps? Making their rift worse?

Late season -- does Rand leave for Falme without Moiraine or does she go there with him?

I do like the idea of the viewers getting to know Min better via Mat (Min talking to Mat about That One Viewing rather than Elayne would be such a great change that would improve Min as a character a lot; though I'm also good if we get her talking about it to her aunt); getting to know Aviendha through Perrin; and getting to know Elayne through Egwene and Nynaeve. So all of them are full characters even before we get into future romance stuff.

But even with all the new info, it feels like there are still a lot of remaining questions (which is great!). Fingers crossed for a final trailer next week.

[joiedecombat]

I've been thinking about love triangles (for some reason XD) and it reminded me of the potential for a triangle we had with Antares, Alien MC and Slake. So many questions.

How was Antares really feeling when he learned about Slake?

Is there any possibility that Alien MC would be interested in Slake again, and would Slake want to get involved with her again?

Give me the drama XD

Oho, an Antares ask!

You'll forgive me if I keep a few details under my hat to revisit in The Fanfic, but there's plenty of ground to cover regardless!

Slake showing up unexpectedly shook MC pretty badly, which immediately put Antares on alert. By this point, after all, he's seen her handle a good bit of trouble, so the fact that Slake rattled her just by showing up got his attention. Being stuck in the position of observer, control freak that Antares is, did not help either.

I don't think it's accurate to say he's jealous once he hears who Slake was to MC. He'd certainly deny it, but there's also the fact that the way MC talks about Slake to him is very disparaging. There's no lingering tender feelings there.

What Antares is feeling, primarily, is protective. He's developed a good bit of respect for MC by this point. He's brought her onto his ship, which in his paradigm makes her his responsibility (the excuse he gives later when he shows up to help her out against Slake's thugs, but it's not only an excuse). Slake shook her - Slake knows her, in ways that could make it easier for him to get her at a disadvantage - and as the two of them agree, he is probably up to something related to their current mission.

Slake is someone Antares would ordinarily dismiss as riffraff. The fact that his presence rattles MC, and the fact that he took advantage of her in the past, elevates(?) him to the status of "someone Antares would like to crush underfoot in passing, given opportunity." He finds it personally annoying that someone so far beneath MC ever had the opportunity to cause her grief in the first place.

As for MC - Slake burned her badly, and while there are memories and old conflicted feelings there that aren't easily shaken off, she holds no affection for him now. Her understanding of him when they were together was a much more idealized one, and this far down the road she's seen enough to have a clearer view of the kind of person that he is. She'd have to be in a very vulnerable state to feel genuinely tempted to rekindle a romantic relationship with Slake, after how he treated her in the past and knowing what she knows now.

Slake, on the other hand, would probably take the chance to take up with MC again. It wouldn't really be about her, though, so much as it is that Slake doesn't like the idea that she could get over him. It chafes him to see her succeeding as a PI, a profession he introduced her to. He'd want to prove, to himself and to her, that he could get her if he wanted her.

[dezimaton]

musing to myself "ah, it's nice I can interact with some other artists for once during artfight for the month of july"

then I realized, it doesn't need to be just july

I could try to add more interactive activities to my art blog

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it dawned upon me that my current mode of posting is pretty un-interactive. I just draw what i like, then post it into the abyss that is the internet. sometimes I get some really sweet tags(and oh how I wish to vigorously shake the hand of some users that consistently brighten my day), but ultimately they're one-way messages: me to them and them to me

I would like to encourage more of a back-and-forth, a dialogue, since that's what I miss the most from the old internet before the current state of social media: I miss talking with people! exchanging goodies! appreciating ocs and sharing my own!

I don't think I'll be able to recreate that environment, but I can at least try my best to cultivate the energy

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so I brainstormed

art trades + compliments

freeform + meme commissions

oc asks + doodle responses

(open to suggestions if anyone has ideas!)

there are reasons why I don't do these presently, but I think perhaps in a limited capacity they are worth trying to see how it feels

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to elaborate-

art trades & commissions: I love drawing for other people! I love seeing everyone's varied ocs and their unique lore! and I love seeing people smile when they're handed a little art treat

artist-request-fatigue permitting, I could, would, and have spent my free time drawing for others for a good couple of years

The downside is that I end up neglecting my own characters. So sometime on my art journey I decided to distance myself from trades and comms to allow space for personal work

This decision freed me up to fall into an obscure fandom and end up STILL only sparsely drawing my own ocs. (oops!) But I don't regret the time I spent hellswording. I met a lot of good people and made a number close friends that I still talk to

So I'm thinking at a low frequency of once a month, I could try to do a little art trading/comms while retaining the rest of my free time for my own art (and life things that aren't drawing haha!)

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oc asks + responses: this one is a two pronged 'why not'

first one is, admittedly, that writing and characterization are a major weak point of mines

For the longest time my characters were design-only. I could assign them a profession and vaguely imagine a world they exist in, but I could not wrap my head around what personality they'd have and how they'd react to things- their likes and dislikes- how they'd interact with others (such vital stuff!)

After my stint in addhell, reading a great deal of fanfiction (and scuffily writing baby's first fics), I only recently started to grasp how to imagine an interaction and setup a scene

I'm still weak in this area which makes me hesitate, unsure I'd be able to answer oc asks definitively, but I think the /trying/ is part of the process of figuring them out

It's kind of silly, but I have this worry of answering one way then later deciding it's no longer accurate. Slowly trying to accept the idea that my word need not be law forever. I am not a company trying to maintain a consistent depiction. My ocs are allowed to grow with me and I am permitted to change my mind (because doing so too- is discovery in a way)

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The second wrench in the gears is that most of my ocs are positively ancient! dating back to 2013 (holy shit, the time really does pass) I still love them dearly, but their designs and stories are, as one would expect, outdated

I have not revisited their lore because while they have potential, they're so scattered (1-2 per verse...) and so bare bones I'd need to invest a lot of energy to flesh them out. the ideas will remain at the back of my mind, but I don't plan to work on them anytime soon. As such, they aren't well suited for oc asks since I don't have much depth to scratch at

Of the new guys, I have Tive! my cute lil sona! pngtuber for streams! and overall representative stand-in for socials. I don't intend to do anything with him other than draw him for fun, so he is free to meme! He has a little story packed with visuals I like, so I'd be happy to share more about him

The other 5 characters that I really want to share but haven't are for bhg. This is a little rpghorror game I want to make! Because they're involved in a story I want to tell (but try not spoil), as well as the project being very slow moving with just me working on it- I feel there is a low risk to sharing them at this stage

I've been working on them for the past year or so. My goal was to design them as a group so they complement each other in look, theming, and personality (trying to cook up fun interactions). It was a lot of effort going back n forth between characters, making multiple revisions, but I think I'm finally at 90% complete! I have a well balanced looking cast that I feel rather proud of

Lately I've turned my attention back to trying to assemble the slew of potential themes/scenes together into a reasonable timeline. Once again, writing is not my strong suit so boy am I feeling The Difficulty

pros

answering oc asks may help me figure their personalities better & iron out kinks in the visual designs as i doodle them

its a half-baked storytelling method, but not without merit- if i end up never finishing the game (I want to believe in myself though)

it'll be fun!

cons

answering asks may detract energy from development (but I'm not always motivated so this might not be so bad if i do it during muse downtime)

risk of AI datascraping/idea respinning before I can finish my vision

So- I think I can answer asks for Tive for sure! It feels a little lonely for him to be the only character up for questions, so I'll stew over some more whether I want to introduce and include bhg crew. I do want to try at least once though!

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If you've made it this far down this long ramble, wow. thank you for listening to me rave like a madman haha

After this year's artfight comes to a close on Aug3 (it was extended), I hope you'll consider chattering with me once I write up how the trades/comms will work. I've thought out an easygoing system that i hope will be fun and low stress ✨

[imdoingaokay]

I have an idea! The romanced companions reacting to female sole survivor dying during combat!

(A/N): I know, I know, you all missed me. I missed you too haha.

I'm sorry for the long wait, I promise it wasn't on purpose. As I've said before, I am in nursing school, which makes getting out a stuff super difficult. But I love you guys and I love writing!

Sole was written as Gender Neutral, love you <3

Anyways, enjoy my garbage, I wrote this during my class hehehe

SUPER HUGE TW FOR THE FOLLOWING: Descriptions of death, death in general, nothing too graphic (but still), and plenty of angst

Cait: She can’t help but feel terrible like she failed Sole. It doesn’t help that she was right there when it happened.

Watching Sole slump down, hearing their breathing slow until they completely stilled. It was a feeling she had grown used to, but not one she wished to revisit.

She doesn’t know what to do, so she does what she thinks is best. She buries Sole unless Sole specified they wanted their body burned or something. She tells the Minutemen, The Railroad, Brotherhood, or the Insitute, whoever needs to be informed, and then she leaves. She never really thought she was worthy of Sole, regardless of whether they were a “good” or “bad” person, so she leaves as soon as possible. 

She tries her best to stay away from drugs and alcohol. But, realistically? If Sole dies? There’s a solid chance she throws herself back in unless Sole was with the Minutemen or the Railroad and set up a grief group before they passed.

Romanced, Cait is still in pain, still mourning, but it hurts more. She finally had something good, something healthy, and it was ripped away from her. Cait stays wherever had become Sole’s home, and sort of adopts a caretaker role, she works alongside the settlement workers. She tries to honor Sole’s memory, whatever it may have been. She never really moves on, but she forgives herself. And she thinks that’s what Sole would’ve wanted.

Curie: In absolute agony. She tries her best, really tries to stitch Sole up to the best of her abilities. But as she watches Sole slip away, Curie knows she can’t do anything. Not like it makes it any easier.

Curie uses Sole’s pip-boy and begs for backup, begging for help to get Sole’s body out of range. Eventually, when some help does arrive, Curie is hysterical. She can’t seem to forgive herself for her mistakes, despite not making any. She returns to Sole’s home and decides to leave soon after. Curie still feels the guilt of not being able to save Sole, so she decides to help others. Curie slowly turns a name, a mysterious doctor who appears around the Commonwealth, treats patients, then leaves, and the cycle continues. Curie can’t forgive herself for failing her friend, but she can make up for her mistakes by helping others.

Romanced, Curie may settle instead. Choosing to stay where both she and Sole called home. She becomes the Settlement’s doctor and becomes a very good one at that. She isn’t as bubbly as she once was, just more reserved.

Danse: No, no, no! Danse sprints over to Sole, and despite his power armor, he moves relatively fast. He uses his power armor to block Sole’s body from any potential projectiles. Danse picks up his friend, praying they’re still alive, and flees. 

Once in a safe area, Danse lays his friend down and realizes… they’re gone. Sole gave Danse a second chance at life after Danse himself was convinced he didn’t deserve it, and now they were gone. How does that happen? He can’t find it in him to cry, he frowns deeply and picks up his friend again, now returning Sole to wherever or whoever needed them, needed Sole’s body. And Danse will take Sole anywhere if they need. The Railroad, Institute… preferably to the Minutemen, however.

He even takes Sole’s body to Cambridge Police Station if Sole was loyal to The Brotherhood. 

Once Sole’s body has been delivered, Danse returns to Listening Post Bravo. And for the first time, he weeps. He’s lost so many, and it seems like he’s always the one left behind.

He’ll leave the Commonwealth, and go somewhere, anywhere, probably out west. He fights ghouls and super mutants, mindlessly shooting until he can’t anymore.

Romanced, it’s worse, it’s so much worse. Danse screams Sole’s name, sprints over, and takes them to cover. Danse gets out of his armor and cradles his lover, he begs, screams, and pleads with whatever god he can to save his lover. But it’s too late, Sole is gone. And Danse is alone.

Danse returns his lover’s body but doesn’t leave wherever they are buried. He stays, becoming a farmer and working his heart out for whatever Settlement Sole had claimed as theirs. Danse thinks that Sole would want him to be happy, and would want him to move on. But Danse can’t do that. He loves Sole too much to move on. But he continues living, and living is good enough.

Deacon: Deacon isn’t a very serious guy, but the moment he sees Sole fall, he’s the most serious man he knows. Deacon shoots any enemies nearby and quickly rushes over to Sole. He shakes his friend, begging them to wake up, but after a few seconds, he realizes that Sole is dead. His friend is dead. Per Railroad guidelines, Sole is supposed to be left behind at least, buried in an unmarked grave at best. So why does Deacon hesitate? Why does he carefully carry Sole back to their home a bury them properly? Respect? Compassion? Adoration? Nobody knows, Deacon always changes his story.

Sole becomes just another body, another story, one he might tell to the next doomed soul he meets. But honestly? Deacon doesn’t expect to live long enough for that.

Romanced, Deacon is immediately by his lover's side, he holds his lover as tightly as he can and attempts to stop the blood and comfort his lover, but as soon as they still, as soon as they go limp, Deacon breaks. He silently holds them and takes them home. He’ll probably still work for the Railroad, work helping Synths until they don’t need him anymore, but he isn’t the same. He’s so much sadder and so quiet. He’s effective and gets the job done, but when Sole died, so did a bit of Deacon.

Gage: Furious at first, how dare Sole die? How dare they die right here? How dare they leave him alone? At the start of their friendship, he would’ve been slightly annoyed, but Gage and Sole have been friends for longer. And now, he’s alone. He barred his heart, he told them everything about themselves, and now Sole is just gone, his friend is just… gone. He does what he has to do, and gives them a burial, potentially somewhere other than in Nuka-World. After that, he takes up the mantle of Overboss, not happily, don’t get me wrong. He would much rather avoid that role, but Sole was the best one the raiders had, and nobody else will be able to measure up to them. At least, with Gage, he can try to emulate Sole’s leadership. And he’ll do a pretty good job. Or at least, he’ll try until someone comes along and kills him. He’s fine with either.

Romanced, he sprints to his lover’s side, he holds them while they bleed out, “Alright, you’re fine. You’re fine, Sole.” He claims as if that will magically close the gaping wound in Sole’s side. He watches Sole slip away from his grasp and slowly break out into tears. He didn’t remember the last time he cried it was probably when he still lived with his parents. He feels ashamed for his softness while he sobs into his lover’s neck, feeling Sole’s body turn cold. But after his lover is buried, he refuses ever to cry again, deciding to harden himself for the rest of his life, however long it is.

He becomes Overboss, does his job, and waits… waits for his end. And when his end happens, he hopes it’s quick and hopes Sole will wait for him on the other side.

Hancock: He lies to himself, and says that Sole isn’t dead, they’re just knocked out. But the blood and the stillness of their body tells Hancock that his buddy is gone.

After burying or burning the body, Hancock returns to Goodneighbor and holes himself up in the Statehouse. Hancock always knew he would most likely outlive Sole, but he hoped it would be different. He hoped Sole would be an old man or woman, that they’d die peacefully after puffing some jet with Hancock. But the Wasteland is cruel, and it takes the best people away, just because it can.

He gets word that a few of the people in Goodneighbor want to set up a small memorial to Sole, and Hancock is more than happy to help. He keeps living, he’s certain that’s what Sole wants. He never gets that close to anyone again, not because he’s trying to guard himself, he just can’t find the time. He walks around the Commonwealth, throwing himself into helping everyone, that’s what Sole did. So without Sole, someone else has to pick up the “slack” so to speak. And he’s fine with that, hopefully, Sole is too. 

Romanced, he does his best to keep a brave face for Sole, sharing a final kiss before Sole eventually succumbs to their injuries. He cries for a while and throws himself into more chems. It’s Fahrenheit who encourages Hancock to get out of the Old State House and to go for a walk around Goodneighbor. He goes out on the balcony first and notices how bright it is outside. The past month had been fairly cloudy and gloomy, so Hancock stands there, feeling the sun on his face. He’s not very religious, but that warm feeling… it had to be a sign that Sole loves him, wherever they are, Sole loves him.

He never loves another again, not how he loved Sole, but he will keep living. He’ll keep going until the day comes when he and Sole see each other again. 

MacCready: He’s upset, for lack of a better word, so upset he ends up cursing for the first time in years. He grabs at his friend and clings to them, attempting to help them. But eventually, he has to face the music. They’re gone, and he’s alone. Unlike what he did with Lucy, MacCready brings Sole back, back to their home… wherever that might be. He’ll travel the entire length of the Commonwealth if it means that Sole will get a proper burial.

He’ll end up leaving, if Duncan hasn’t joined him in the Commonwealth, thinking that the Commonwealth has nothing left for him anymore. If Duncan has arrived in the Commonwealth, MacCready ends up retiring from mercenary work permanently. He’ll end up working as a guard in Sanctuary, working nights. It makes it easier to care for Duncan when he’s with him during the day. MacCready focuses on Duncan and Duncan alone, with no time for anything else.

Romanced, he’s a mess. He cries and clings onto Sole, begging them to wake up. But he knows it’s over. He mourns his lover, hauling their body to the pair’s shared home, and buries his lover despite the sadness he feels. Unlike if they were just friends, MacCready stays in The Commonwealth, bringing Duncan if he isn’t there already. He works as a guard, but refuses to ever love again, after all… nobody can measure up to Sole or Lucy. His life surrounds his son, and the memory of Sole. He feels terrible if Duncan never got a chance to meet Sole, but he tries to tell stories of them. 

He’s a good man, he tells himself. So he stays alive, for the sake of his son… and for the sake of Sole. Sole would want him to… right?

Nick Valentine: Nick comforts, if he can. He soothes his friend as much as possible. Talking to them as they bleed out. If he knows he can’t help, he just stays nearby and talks with his friend. Like Hancock, Nick expected to outlive Sole, but not like this. Nick watches his friend leave their world and prays they go to a better one. 

He covers Sole with his coat out of respect.  Hell, he ends up burying his friend in that coat. He doesn’t mind losing it, Sole deserves something to keep them warm under the 6 feet of earth.

He’ll continue to work, but he does his best to keep his memories of Sole, copying them from his subconscious and placing them on a holotape. Nick doesn’t want to forget them, not someone who did so much for him.

He’s so used to people leaving him, so used to the cruelty of the wasteland, but… 

Why Sole?

Romanced, Nick does much of the same, but he cradles his lover, holding and soothing Sole the best he can. But even if he can’t prevent his voice from cracking and breaking, he watches his lover go limp and does his best to return the body somewhere his lover can be properly buried.

He mourns, turning off the neon sign in Diamond City for well over a month. When it does come back on, Nick is back to work, still polite, cordial, and friendly. But everyone can’t help but feel the sadness in his eyes

It’s strange, he thinks. As time goes on, Nick’s memories come and go, but Sole’s memory stays. Maybe the “real” Nick Valentine, could only love Jenny, but Nick can only love Sole. And that sort of love stays, despite the space of an old synth’s hard drive.

Old Longfellow: He calls out for Sole, seeing them hurt breaks his heart. 

“No, kid… no you gotta get up, come on.” He tries to lift them, only to place them back down when he hears the pained cry of his chil-I mean… Sole.

He tries his best, but even he realizes there’s nothing he can do. He comforts them in their last moments, realizing that despite dying, Sole is trying to keep him calm. If he has one, he’ll share a drink with Sole, and watch as Sole breathes for the last time.

He’ll bury Sole on the mainland unless Sole says otherwise. But when Longfellow returns to his Cabin, he finds himself wondering what is next. He hoped it would be him to die first… he was supposed to die first. It was his fault, he didn’t do enough, and he should’ve taken the blow.

He sits on his bed, and for the first time in what feels like ages, he cries. Only to still himself a few moments later, he can’t cry. He has to move on, has to keep living.

He’ll keep living, wondering if he’ll die that day or the next, but he doesn’t mind either.

Longfellow works with Far Harbor more, now. Helping Synths pass through the fog with his help, if he can. He thinks Sole would approve.

Hopefully, he’ll meet someone who he can teach again. Someone younger… maybe that synth child Sole spoke to him about.

Romanced, he realizes that Sole needs him to calm down much faster. But he can’t help but admit to his lover before they go that it was his fault. He’ll never forget his lover smiling and cupping his cheek, feeling how warm it felt on his prickling beard. And he’ll never forget how they smiled and shook their head, in pain, but smiling. And all of a sudden, Longfellow feels some closure.

The rest of it moves the same, he continues to help and continues to live. But he’ll never love again, nobody else is like Sole, and even if there was… he doesn’t want them. Longfellow will always want Sole, not someone like them. And when the day comes when he returns to the sea or the dirt, he’ll embrace that with open arms… the way he hopes Sole will embrace him when they see each other once again.

Piper: Piper cries out “Blue?!” over and over again until her throat is raw, she shakes her friend, begging her friend to wake up. But Sole is dead. And that’s it.

She buries her friend the best she can, but when she returns home, she finds herself wondering what she should do next. So she does what she does best.

She writes.

Piper writes the most beautiful story about Sole, but it isn’t some sob story or some heroic tale. She tells the truth. She describes the story of Sole’s life after The Great War, and she writes the tale of Sole navigating through the post-apocalyptic world, how they won, and how they lost. And how despite it all, Sole persevered, and even when they were on death’s door… Well, maybe Piper does play Sole’s life up a little bit.

Regardless, Sole gets one hell of a send-off.

Piper continues writing, focusing on what matters to her.

Romanced, she does everything the exact same. She cries harder and writes faster, but most people in Diamond City agree, Piper isn’t the same. She’s still got that strong sense of justice, she will still do whatever it takes to get a story. But she takes more time off, spends more time with her sister, she lives. Because she’s certain that’s what Sole would want her to do. 

Preston: He does what he can at first, he picks his friend up and tries to get them away. But when Preston looks down and watches his friend grow weaker and weaker, he accepts it, he accepts that this is the end of The General. Preston brings Sole’s body back and gives them a proper funeral. 

He apologizes to his friend's grave, claiming it should’ve been them instead, tears gathering in his eyes. He knew he would cry over his friend, but not this hard. He’s adopted the role of General, he’s certain that Sole would’ve wanted that. He also adopts their leadership skills and learns how to grow the settlements. He’ll do his best, and he’ll be the best General he can be.

General Garvey has a nice ring to it anyways.

Romanced, he’s distraught. He clings to his lover and drags them home. At first, he can’t stop his tears. He begs his lover to come back, begs whatever god there is to take him instead, but Sole’s gone. Eventually, when the calls for help become too much, and when he can’t ignore them anymore, Preston dons the name of General. 

He continues to do his best and he’ll stay alive for as long as possible, for the sake of the Commonwealth… and for Sole’s sake too.

X6-88: He calls out for Sole, a few times. It doesn’t make sense to him, Sole isn’t supposed to bleed. He tries to give them stimpacks, but the blood… it’s too much. 

Sole may try to comfort X6, maybe try to stop him, but X6 can’t seem to stop trying to save them. But after Sole goes limp, after Sole goes cold, X6 realizes what he has done. 

He takes them back to The Insitute, waiting for reprimand, for something. If Father is still alive, he watches as the older man sighs and orders for the body to be taken away. Father watches X6 before asking, in a confused tone “Why are you crying?”

X6’s fingers go to his cheeks, where he feels the wetness from his tears. Quickly wiping them away, he apologizes and returns to his duties. But all of a sudden, he’s emotional? He thinks about Sole, how they acted toward others… X6 liked them... X6 admired them. X6 actually misses them. But he isn’t supposed to feel that way, not towards anyone. So why does he feel this way for Sole?

It takes him time, and he eventually comes to the realization that X6 feels this way because… he cared. He cared for Sole, and Sole cared for him. And maybe that makes him faulty and maybe that makes him a terrible Courser. But X6 can’t seem to care, not for that. 

Romanced, X6 probably had more time to work on his emotions, and more time to work on his outlook on just about everything. So when Sole dies, he knows that the reason he is crying is that he loved them. And X6… actually doesn’t mind that. He gets curious one day and reads a few books, and even overhears a few others speak, and over time, heals himself. He lives, works, and does what he needs to do because when the day comes, and he dies, he’s fine with it all. The love he had for Sole was real, and that’s worth something, isn’t it?

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Full Story : Availabe on Archive of Our Own

Story Content : 18+, Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Dom/Sub, Sadism/Masochism, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapters 2 - 8 : Mega Post

This post contains chapters 2-8 of You Got a Taste Now so that all chapters can be read on Tumblr as well as on Ao3. All future chapters will be posted as individual posts, but I do recommend reading these early chapters on Ao3 instead, as it's a lot easier to keep track of where you are that way. Link above!

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Chapter 2 - What the hell is happening?

Chapter title is lyrics from "Dear Diary"

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It was raining.

Of course it was, it had been raining all morning. This was England after all.

I was sitting under an awning on the balcony of the same hotel room from last night, waiting for everyone to wake up. Only six hours had passed since Oli went back to his room after what I fondly will refer to as ‘having his way with me’.

Six hours, and all I’d done since was clean the place up – poorly might I add, and had a shower to freshen up. Such simple tasks, so easy to sum up in one short sentence. But something very different was happening on the inside. My mind didn’t get a moment of rest, it was replaying the event over and over, picking it apart from every direction – catching up on the self psychoanalysis I was avoiding just six hours ago.

I shook my head.

Still just six hours, that can’t be right…

I reached for my phone to check the time once again, only 9 minutes had passed since I last checked.

The idea of sleep had felt offensive, so I hadn’t even considered it. Instead most of the time was spent pacing back and forth in my hotel room in my bathrobe, experiencing a myriad of confusing emotions and thoughts. So many unanswered questions were floating aimlessly in my mind. Was I into pain? No, surely not.. Maybe? But oh god it felt so good...

I had always considered myself fairly vanilla. In fact this was the first time I’d had sex that wasn’t in a bed. But I liked that, the bedroom was safe, relaxing, sweet and tender. It was.. great. And not at all boring. 

I've had great sex before… Right?

And then there were the serious thoughts, the ones that had been hard to touch on but I couldn’t help revisiting.

Such as; was this a form of self harm? Will I get addicted to this type of high?

Will every other form of sexual intimacy become meaningless in comparison?

My mind would rake through these harder, more painful thoughts, gingerly touching them like hot coals fresh from the fire, checking if they’d cooled down enough to examine them closer.

But they were still entirely too hard to process.

Then the insecure thoughts would creep in; why didn’t he tell me whether he wanted to do this again or not? Was it just a one time thing – or had I been disappointing in some way? God what a sad thought to have.

I wasn’t the most secure of people. Before this job I’d been quite shy, and the only reason I had even applied for this was because I desperately needed to get away from my life after I found out my ex had cheated. I’d been living with him since I was 20, I’m now 31. We were looking to buy a house, have kids... And then one day after my office job, I was cooking dinner, he’d left his phone on the counter and I saw the text pop up on his phone. ‘I miss you’ it read. Just three simple words that would end my life as I knew it.

I’d suspected it for years. He wasn’t home much, always out with the guys, and when he was around he barely paid me any attention.

I just wasn’t ready to face it.

After I’d moved back to my parents, a friend of mine suggested this job. She worked with the agency recently and could give me a shining recommendation if I felt like travelling and partying with rockstars. It was so far out of my comfort zone I just laughed it off at first, but something in me had been itching to break free and do something wild for as long as I could remember. So I did it, I applied – and she wasn’t lying about shining recommendations, they seemed thrilled to have me onboard so last minute.

But whenever I got an order wrong, or knocked over seemingly expensive equipment I always felt like an imposter, because the truth is that I’m a truly terrible assistant. And the only reason I was here was because my friend who has connections in the right places was worried I was wasting away.

No, let’s be real; she was worried I’d off myself any day now. 

I wasn’t that far gone, but I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind. And I’d be lying if I said it hadn't occurred to me that I was heading there. 

But everything changed when I started working for the band. They were such lovely and fun people, making even shy me want to break out of my shell a little bit – sometimes.

It had only been three weeks since I was brought onto the touring team, it was mostly me (Alice) and Liam, who had been doing this for years. Liam was a 40 something, flamboyant, kind hearted, and extremely patient soul, who was doing his very best to try and teach me the ropes. The first time I met him I knew we’d get along great. An unfortunate series of events had unfolded causing me to be half an hour late to the meeting with him and the agency. I’d woken up that morning to my mother screaming bloody murder at her cat cause he’d dragged in a bird and managed to sprinkle pieces of guts and feathers all over the living room, only to realise I’d turned off the alarm and was actually running so late I wouldn’t have time to do anything besides put on my clothes from the night before and potentially get a speeding ticket on my way there. I’d stumbled through the door, hair in a bird's nest, hiding my pizza stained shirt with an oversized coat. I was about to start running down the corridor to get to the front desk on the other side of some glass doors, when I heard a light yet demanding male voice behind me.

“Oi, hold up a minute, are you Alice?”

I hadn’t noticed him sitting next to the front door. He got up from his seat, absolutely towering over me. He was a skinny man, long blonde hair very similar to my own, clipped back on one side with a hair clip that shockingly read ‘die cunt’ in a cursive font – such an aggressive contrast from the sweet man, smiling from ear to ear before me.

“I was told you might be a bit late so I thought I’d wait for you..” He eyed me up and down and frowned, took a step back and folded his bare arms. One thing to note about Liam is that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him wearing anything with sleeves, usually this is a trait of someone who works out a lot, or has a lot of tattoos, but neither of these things were true about Liam. He just had a peculiar aversion to sleeves.

“Y-yes, I am so sorry I’m late, I-”

I don’t think he was listening to me cause suddenly he snapped his fingers like he’d figured something out, then wordlessly took the clip out of his hair and proceeded to push my hair back on one side with it, while sprucing up the other. “There! At least now the mess looks intentional.”

I took a look at myself in the reflection of the glass door behind him, and it did.

We never talked much about our feelings, but Liam always had my back. He could clearly tell I was a lost soul and very much out of my element. I hadn’t seen him in almost two days, he had given me a long list of instructions, including how to deal with the party from last night, then he’d taken the past two days off before we flew to America – which we were scheduled to do in just three short hours.

A pigeon landed on the balcony next to me, snapping me back to the current situation, and I checked my phone for the billionth time. To my dismay only 5 minutes had passed this time, so I slump forward with a groan, which scared the pigeon off.

I just wanted to get the awkward bit over with. I was almost certain everyone had heard me and Oli last night – maybe not Matt, he was particularly wasted.

The last instruction on the long list Liam had left me said “Don’t you fucking dare wake the lads until the last minute. They’ll be furious if you do and probably end up blaming me.”

So I waited.

Nowhere in the notes had he specified what to do if the lead singer bends you over and fucks you. It could have come in handy right about now because I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I wanted so badly to fast forward a day, after we’d all said our awkward good mornings, after the drive to the airport – and especially after having been stuck on a flight together for 8 hours. I just wanted to be tucked into my hotel room in Vegas already, finally relaxing, maybe even some sleep if my thoughts would allow me. 

Maybe I’d even have some answers from Oli at that point.

I heard the tap running from inside and my head snapped to glance through the glass doors of the balcony. I could see Matt standing by the sink, taking some form of tablet with a glass of tap water. I was surprised to see him be the first to wake up, considering his state last night.

After taking a deep breath to hype myself up to get this over with, I walk back into the common area of the suite.

“Heey Alice, just who I wanted to see. Any chance you could whip us up some coffee, my head’s bloody pounding”, Matt said, looking absolutely miserable.

“Morning, yeah of course, what do you want?” This was good, if we just focused on the job surely it wouldn’t be too awkward.

Walking into the kitchen area with a clear task in mind, I could now see the sitting area where the whole band was currently lounging, including Oli with his hoodie up, bent over his phone. Liam was also back, occupied by dragging luggage out of the rooms. He must have come back recently and woke everyone up. And I had been too lost in thought to even notice.

In my surprise at the turn of events, I’d completely missed what Matt had requested. 

“S-sorry Matt, what did you say?” I spoke sheepishly, shyness creeping in once I realised Oli was in the room.

“Just black for me.” Matt repeated, then Lee spoke up from the sofa, sounding chipper, “I’d go for some food myself.”

Lee was clearly the most sober last night, which was also evident by his mood today. He both sounded and looked well rested, unlike the rest of them.

Everyone spoke up with their orders, except Oli. He had yet to tear his attention away from his phone, typing furiously the whole time. Lee gave Oli’s arm a slap, “You don’t want anything Oli?”

“Nah mate, I’ll just eat on the flight.” He said, sounding completely unbothered, not looking away from his phone.

“Alright! All done with that bit.” Liam proclaimed after stacking the last piece of luggage near the door, while nearly sprinting in my direction, flaunting that big warm smile he so often wore.

“Alice, my sweet doll, you’ve done fantastic.” He proceeded to bend over and give me a hug. While looking over his shoulder I could see that the place appeared significantly cleaner than the state I’d left it in some hours ago. He really did have my back. Thank you, I mouthed at him as he pulled away.

The next hour was spent getting everyone's orders and loading up the van, then we were off to the airport. To my surprise there had been no awkwardness as of yet. No one had said anything out of the ordinary banter, and no one had treated me any different than the night before – besides Oli who had not made eye contact once, or spoken a word to me. 

To be perfectly fair I’d been avoiding him too. I just had no clue how to break the ice.

Liam decided he would drive the van to the airport because he was more familiar with this area than me, so I sat up front next to him. The whole band sat behind us in two rows, and this is when the ‘no awkwardness’ streak ended.

Oli had managed to sit in the only seat that was visible from my angle in the rear-view mirror, which meant if we both looked at the same time we’d lock eyes. The potential of that happening had me both exhilarated and panicked, which made me feel pathetic. Something so insignificant shouldn't affect me this much. I kept catching myself stealing glances, mentally whipping myself for the lack of discipline. Everytime I caught myself looking, he was just staring out the window, fairly expressionless. Such a stark contrast from all the passionate emotions on his face last night. The memory of them started playing in my mind like a filthy montage. Then my thoughts wandered back to how his hands felt on me, at one point I caught myself reaching for my throat as if to imagine his grasp still being there.

What the hell am I doing?

I straightened in my seat and tried to focus on something else, anything else.

I’d spent some time after my shower inspecting my neck, not knowing exactly how to cover the faint marks left there. I’d settled for a high collared dress, then right before leaving my room I’d added a scarf for good measure. I knew I’d have to take it off eventually. Sure, it was cold in London, but not in Vegas. Liam must have noticed something was up cause he kept glancing over at me with suspicion.

We were just a couple of minutes into the half hour drive to the airport, the rest of the guys had been chattering and joking with each other nonstop at this point when Mat (not to be confused with Matt) complained, “I’m so fucking tired though, maybe I can get some sleep on the plane. Was it you Lee that was railing some poor bird last night? I couldn’t sleep at all until you two were done, and frankly I was shocked to not see the whole place destroyed when I got up.”

My heart sank and I willed myself to not look at Oli’s reaction, even though everything in me was screaming to just have a quick peek.

Matt chimed in, “I just put in some earplugs, I’m so fucking tired of listening to Lee at this point.”

I could hear Lee laughing, “Wasn’t me mate, I was the last one awake but I bumped into Oli on his way back out as I was heading to bed. You got something to share with the group Oli?”

The whole band broke out in ooo’s and aaa’s and anyone who could reach started peppering Oli’s arm in teasing punches, as well as messing up his hair. This is when my concentration broke and I let myself look at Oli, he was smiling awkwardly at them, then he also stole a glance in the rearview mirror and we locked eyes for only a split second, but it was enough for me to choke on my spit and start coughing. Liam's reaction came swiftly and dramatically as his head snapped to mine, eyes wide, jaw dropped. Did you really? He mouthed at me in disbelief.

I shrugged sheepishly, looking apologetic. Liam just shook his head as his expression relaxed into an amused smile.

While Liam had instantly pieced the puzzle together, no one seemed to have noticed what was going on in the very front of the vehicle, as the band was still very much focused on Oli.

“Was it that ginger who kept flirting with ya last night?” Lee inquired, “She was something else, wasn’t she?” He added, in an almost dreamy tone.

“Fucking hell, stop it.” Oli laughed, swatting everyone's hands away. “I don’t kiss and tell lads, you should know that by now.” He sounded so amused, making an involuntary smile tug at my lips.

“You don’t kiss at all as far as I’m aware. I thought you’d gone celibate since She Who Shall Not Be Named left the picture.” Retorted Lee.

Mat scoffed, “Whoever it was man, I’m just happy you’re on the rebound. It was getting sad.”

Rebound.. Is that what it was? A pang of sadness washed over me. It shouldn’t make me feel anything at all, especially since technically this was a rebound for me as well. 

I knew that Oli was single, and I knew he’d been in a serious relationship. But from my knowledge that ended over a year ago. Has he really not been with anyone since, or was there someone more recent I didn’t know about from my quick google prior to taking this job?

The rest of the drive, and most of the flight Oli had continued being uncharacteristically quiet. He was usually clowning around with the rest of them, but whenever I dared steal another glance he appeared lost in thought, hints of sadness emitting from him.

It was clear that Liam wanted to talk about it but I’d gotten the impression that he was planning to wait until after since the quarters were so crammed. The small plane was split into two sections. One larger area that was mostly seating where most of the guys hung out, then a smaller area with a bar and cabinets for snacks, and just a couple of seats. For the first four hours of the trip Matt had been napping in the smaller area, but as soon as he evacuated Liam pulled me away to chat.

“Spill.” He demanded as he pulled me down into one of the seats next to him.

I instantly started blushing, “Honestly I don’t really know how it happened, he just sort of grabbed me and started touching me.” I spoke softly, afraid the words would travel despite how loud the plane was.

Liam looked very concerned, “Alice, do we need to call the agency? We can fly you back as soon as we get to Vegas if you-”

“Nonono,” I cut him off, waving my hands. “I understand the concern, but no I wanted it to happen.” I could feel the blush creeping in more and more.

Liam relaxed.

“It just happened really fast, and I still don’t have a clue what it means, or if it was just a one time thing.” I looked at Liam, questioning, as if I was hoping he’d have answers simply cause he’d worked with them longer.

“Oh love, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. All I know is that I haven’t seen him sleep around since I’ve worked with them the past year, but I don’t know what he does outside of tour-times. He was in a pretty serious relationship that I think messed him up a bit. But beyond that who knows, he’s a bit of a mystery-”, Liam cut himself off as we both spotted Oli walking through the doorway.

We locked eyes and I felt like a deer in headlights.

Had he heard us talking about him?

Liam's eyes darted back and forth between us, “right, I'm gonna leave you to it.” He proclaimed unceremoniously as he slapped his legs, got up, and slid past Oli out of the room. Liam wasn’t the most subtle of people.

And suddenly it was just me and Oli.

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Chapter 3 - Sticks and stones may break my bones

Chapter title is lyrics from "Ludens"

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Oli stood in the doorway for a second with his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his hoodie. He looked so shy. I knew he could be shy at times, I’d seen it with fans sometimes when we were out and about. But he had never been shy around me during the short interactions we had, just cocky and charming. I guess it was extra shocking to see after what we did last night. He walked over and sat down next to me, our legs brushed together for a split second, making him reposition. 

He regretted it. My mind was flooded with the thought; he regretted being with me, it wasn’t what he wanted and now he’s going to turn me down entirely.

At this point I was so nervous I felt like I was going to puke.

We were both facing straight ahead, sitting in uncomfortable silence. Oli’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally spoke, “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

The words were so solemn I dared to turn towards him, his eyes were fixed on the floor in front of us, hair draping his face. Apparently I wasn’t the only haunted one.

But anger was creeping in from every direction. I was so sleep deprived, so confused, and overwhelmed from all my revelations, and now the added knowledge of him regretting what we did was just entirely too painful. The last thing I wanted was to be denied the only thing that had made me feel alive in years, but I could feel the possibility of it ever happening again slip away as quickly as it came about. So I snapped at him, “I don’t know what I did wrong last night, but I can tell you’re regretting what we did, and quite frankly I think that’s bullshit.”

His eyes shot to mine, the intensity from last night flashed behind them. “Do you not understand that I enjoyed hurting you?” His voice was dark and serious, “Do you think I want to be this person, someone who just can’t control themselves. I barely know you, and you’re an employee for fuck sake.”

It was my turn to open and shut my mouth repeatedly, I felt dumbfounded.

His hand, covered in a blackout tattoo with an intricate pattern, appeared from his pocket and reached out for my scarf. He let two of his fingers – the same ones he’d had inside me just the night before – graze leisurely down from my jawline to my collarbone, revealing the marks on my neck to him. His vision followed the trail of his fingers. I was frozen in place, a longing shiver running down my spine, making me forget for a split second how mad I was. Meanwhile a confusing mix of fascination, sadness, and possibly hunger was playing across Oli’s face. He continued speaking as he pulled his hand away, “Alice.. You walk around looking as lost as I feel. If I don’t put a stop to it now, if I let this play out, I’ll destroy you.”

The anger was back, and I adjusted my scarf to cover the marks again, “I’m not some poor innocent lamb being dragged off for slaughter. I’m a grown woman, I can decide for myself what I want to do.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t really give a shit.” He shook his head and let out a frustrated laugh, “How exactly do you see this ending, love?”

“I-I don’t really know, but I do know that last night was the most alive I’ve felt in years.”

“That’s the problem though, innit? I felt the same way, and that scares me. I don’t know where it ends, I wanted to just keep hurting you – and not just physically – to make myself feel better, to make you feel better. Do you know what I mean?”

There it was again, the confusing mix of arousal and fear. I hated how he described it as some form of self harm – for both of us. I hadn’t been able to digest that thought for myself last night while pacing in the hotel room, let alone his reasons for wanting to do certain things to me. Frustration was boiling inside me, making me want to scream. I didn’t want to care about the implications, the possible outcomes, I just wanted to keep exploring it. Fucking finally; something that made me feel better. Something that released the ever-building pressure inside me.

I steadied myself and looked him square in the eye, “I don’t care, and I don’t want to care.”

Oli turned towards me and leaned in close, his serious expression mere inches from my face, “I care.” He relaxed back into his seat, looking down before continuing, speaking softly now, “I think you’re a lovely person, Alice. You’re shy but you’re like a ray of sunshine – everyone agrees. Liam’s fantastic, but let’s be honest, the guys much prefer when you’re around. So I feel like a right prick for last night.” He glanced over at me before continuing, “I don’t know much about you, but I know you’ve recently come out of a long term relationship,” How did he know that? Appearing nervous, he adjusted his hair, “And I’m sure you know I haven’t been with anyone since.. After me and her broke up.”

I felt my brows furrow, a bit thrown off from his intimate knowledge of me, as well as confusion regarding where he was going with this.

He pressed on, “I know how I felt when I found out she’d cheated on me, and if you’re feeling even a crumb of that betrayal, I know you’re not in the best head space right now.”

My brows relaxed, realisation hitting me, “I see..” I sat up a bit straighter. “You’re right, you don’t know much about me Oli. You have no clue what my life has been like, or what my relationship was like – and how do you even know he cheated-” I shook my head for even asking, it wasn’t important right now, “Don’t worry about it. I understand, you think you’re doing me some grand favour.”

“You can be as mad as you need to be, love. I should have just picked one of the groupies last night and spared you all of this. I’m furious with myself for having jeopardised you wanting to stay with us for the rest of the tour.”

I shot out of the chair, feeling too close to tears to keep listening to him. “I’m not leaving the touring team. I don’t just give up when things get a bit complicated.” I retorted, glaring down at him.

He stood up in front of me, looking down on me now instead. An amused smile playing on his lips in acknowledgment that my words had referred to him turning me down rather than my job situation, “I know what you’re trying to say love, but I’m just glad you’re sticking around.” I just glared at him in response. He inclined his head towards the doorway that led to the larger area where everyone else was currently hanging out, “I’m assuming Liam knows?”

“Yeah, he figured it out in the van.”

“Do you want to keep this just between the three of us?” There was pity in his eyes, making it unclear whether he was asking due to his own privacy – out of shame of his actions, or whether it was for my comfort.

“Sure, we can do that.” Regardless of his motives, I still didn’t want everyone to know. Especially not now when Oli had made it clear this was just a one time thing.

One time. Was that really all it was going to be? I couldn’t tell if it was more or less painful to have experienced such an emotional and sexual high, and to have it be ripped away, or to never have experienced it at all and continue living my life as a zombie.

We parted ways and the rest of the flight was spent avoiding each other. Thankfully the other band members were playing games which made it easy to focus on their silly shenanigans rather than feel the emotional despair in silence.

It wasn’t until I walked through the door of the hotel room in Vegas that I let myself break down. The tears came instantly, I didn’t even make it to the bed. Instead I just let my body collapse against the door and sobbed.

Everything came crashing down, and there was just pain. Pain from knowing I wont be manhandled by Oli again, pain from feeling so terribly rejected by both him and my ex – like there was something deeply wrong with me on a personal level. Something inherently broken and off-putting. 

Pain from having my life ripped away from me by some fucking loser who didn’t even know how to wipe his arse properly – made evident by the skidmarks I had to look at everytime I was doing the laundry. Why had I stayed with him? Why had I let myself become so… domesticated. I was just going through the motions of life, settling when it came to just about everything. My office job made me want to rip my hair out – but the pay was decent enough so I stayed. The flat we picked was not to my liking one bit – oh, but it was near his job so we took the lease anyway. 

Did I even want kids, or had I only wanted them because he wanted them?

And then there was pain from all the small ways my personality had been ripped away from me bit by bit over the years. I wanted to dye my hair, but he liked it blonde. In fact he didn’t like it much at all when I appeared anything besides sweet and palatable. I think that was part of why it had been so liberating to dress in a more revealing manner the past three weeks. I finally didn’t feel complete boredom when looking at myself in the mirror anymore.

I cried and I cried, until I was beyond exhausted.

And then I finally slept.

The next day can only be summed up as utter madness, but it was always like that on the day of a gig. There was simply too much to do at any given moment, not made better by the fact that I’d overslept again. Being the crying mess I was last night I had completely forgotten to set an alarm, instead I had been woken by a frantic Liam pounding on my door, rambling off the whole list of things we needed to get done as soon as I let him into my room.

I was very grateful he hadn’t pointed out how I had overslept. His room was right next to mine so he more than likely had heard my little break down, made evident by how extra patient he was being. He instead helped me get ready, and then we proceeded to do our whirlwind of tasks. Most of the day had been spent at the arena getting everything just right, and before I knew it there was only half an hour until it was Bring Me the Horizons turn to perform. 

I hadn’t seen any of the band members all day. Liam had repeatedly sent me off on little missions away from them – which again, I was grateful for. But I knew they had been backstage in the dressing rooms for many hours at this point, getting ready and warming up.

Walking down the corridor on my way to the stage area, I see the band filter out of the dressing room ahead of me. They’re laughing and chattering as they draw nearer, and Oli was holding a drink bottle. I had never seen him drink prior to a show before, only after. I gave it the benefit of a doubt, considering it could just be water, until they were walking up to me and noticed a slight flush on his cheeks, as well as his glassy eyes. He smiles lazily at me, making me look away out of awkwardness. The rest of the band paid me no attention as I rushed past them, knowing me and Liam were always too busy this close to a show.

A pang of worry hit me after they disappeared around the corner. 

Had our talk caused him to get drunk now? Was the show going to be a disaster because of it? Would it all be my fault? I shook my head, knowing my thoughts were nonsense. Oli was responsible for his own actions after all. Yet the anxiety remained.

I found Liam and we took our place standing to the side of the stage, mere moments before the show started. Everyone but the lead singer was already on stage, and I could see Oli’s silhouette in the distance to our right as he waited for his queue.

My heart was sinking further, so I pulled Liam's shoulder down so I could speak into his ear over the loudness around us “Oli’s been drinking.” Liam looked at me, then over to Oli, before speaking back into my ear, “It should be fine, he does that sometimes, just been a while.” For some reason I had a hard time believing him, but my worries melted away once he ran on stage. The whole set went perfectly, if anything he sang with more passion than usual. But I did notice less crowd interactions, something he was quite known for doing a fair bit of.

It was very hard to watch him tonight. Everything he did would elicit vivid memories from two nights ago, making me desperate to be back there with him again. He was down on his knees, bent over panting, exerted from singing and performing, and my whole body would recall how it felt when he was hovering over me, holding me down, wearing a similar expression to the one he wore now. I tried to shake off the memories but it was too late, my core was already throbbing in anticipation.

Delusion set in; hope even. That maybe – just maybe he wouldn’t be able to resist tonight. Maybe the drinking would make him give in and take me back to that high I craved so badly, the high that felt more vital than air at the moment.

The song ended and Oli started running off stage to do a quick wardrobe change, he was about to turn the corner and run right past me but he must have seen it on me; how horny I was. For just a split second when our eyes met, he shot me the most feral look I could imagine.

Right before their set was over I decided to leave. I didn’t want everyone else to notice how ridiculously horny I was, and I wasn’t sure what I would have done if he looked at me like that again. I’d probably make a complete fool of myself and just blatantly moan, or simply throw myself at him.

So for everyone involved, especially myself, it just seemed smarter to remove myself from the situation.

I was briskly walking down the corridor from the stage to where a row of rooms were, when I heard someone running up behind me. Due to how loud the arena still was, I hadn’t heard it until just a second before someone grabbed me, and threw me over their shoulder, promptly knocking the air out of me. I never got a chance to see who it was, but I knew it was Oli. He felt and smelled just like him. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and that hope I’d felt earlier grew stronger. He pulled us into one of the adjacent rooms and kicked the door shut behind us with his boot. In one motion he flung me off his shoulder and pinned me to the door, further rattling me, wrapping my legs around his waist.

None of the lights were on in this room, instead everything was painted in hues of green from the emergency exit lights. My heart was pounding, and our breaths mingled as my vision adjusted. He was slick with sweat as he pressed against me, eyes glowing like green flames in the darkness. His voice came ragged, “Is this what you want?” He proceeded to grab me by the throat, making me gasp for air. “You stupid whore..” Words spoken through clenched teeth. He tightened his grip and gave me a shake. Instinctively my hands scramble to attempt to pry him off me so I could breathe, but to no avail. I was officially scared, more so than the first time he choked me. But what scared me significantly more than my lack of air was the realisation that I didn't want him to stop. Thankfully after a moment he let go and I slumped onto his shoulder, inhaling sharply several times. But he didn't let me compose myself before he yanked me back into his view.

A sadistic laugh escaped him, his wicked smile filling my vision, “Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you..” His fingers grazed my throat with intent, trailing off into my cleavage. His voice darkened “Couldn’t stop thinking about how you taste, how you feel..” His hips ground against mine, and I could feel the heat between us despite our clothes, as the length of his cock pushed against my pussy. I whimpered painfully, my throat incredibly sore. Through the hunger, his tone turned serious, “Before talking to you yesterday, I can’t tell you how badly I wished you’d regretted it – that you wished I hadn’t fucked you. If I knew you wanted more, how was I supposed to resist? It just feels too good doesn’t it?” As he was talking his expression slowly changed to almost childlike wonder. With a depraved smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I nodded in response.

He mimicked my smile then kissed me passionately, similarly to the other night; but something was different, something I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Our bodies moved together, trying to get closer. It didn’t seem to matter what we did, he just wasn’t close enough. So I reached between us to loosen his belt, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the door behind me, pulling his mouth away from mine. “Fuck sake, love. Let me do this my way, that’s what you want innit, for me to have my way with you?” I didn’t get a chance to respond before his lips covered mine again. The hand on my wrist pried my fist open and intertwined our fingers, turning the moment increasingly intimate – something he shied away from the other night. 

A bewildering flurry of emotions bloomed in my chest; warmth, longing, sadness. It all came at once, intensified by him slowing our kiss to something deeper. Something just as powerful as the explosiveness from moments ago, but more akin to the roar of a bonfire.

My other hand freed itself from the tangles of his hair, and I let my fingers roam his face instead – an emotionally indulgent gesture that had him flinching the other night, seemingly welcomed tonight from the squeeze he gave my hand. His face was stubbly and so delightfully warm and slightly slick from the exertion of the show, making some of his hair stick to his temple. I imagined this is what he felt like after making love for a long time.

Making love.

Confusion crept in, not knowing how to interpret the situation, not knowing if this type of intimacy was something I wanted right now. Unlike the more aggressive activities which freed me from my internal pain, these tender ones were pulling on something very delicate, something that really didn’t want attention right now. 

I felt vulnerable, like an open wound – infinitely more powerless than when he was choking me.

Was I starting to panic?

That’s when Oli pulled away, resting his forehead against mine, leaving me to wonder if he was having a similar experience.

A heavy silence fell. Uncertainty of what’s to come filled the air, making it hard to breathe. Do we go back to doing delightful and depraved things to feel better, or do we continue down this unknown path he was leading us down?

He raised his head and our eyes locked. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw; the vulnerability, the fire, the sadness – the pain. I felt like I was falling backwards. He was looking right through me, and letting me see something in him I wasn’t sure he showed very often. He inhaled a ragged breath, then leaned in to continue kissing me. 

I thought I was scared before, but it paled in comparison to the fear I felt now. 

I can’t do this.

My hands shoved at him, my head twisting away from his lips, “No! Get off me!” I bit out as he stepped back. 

Tears stung behind my eyes as I struggled to land on my feet, then I tore the door open and ran.

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Chapter 4 - I can’t drown my demons

Chapter title is lyrics from "Can you feel my heart"

This chapter is from Oli's perspective.

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Something in me had been torn wide open, an old wound I thought had scarred over by now.

She had disappeared so quickly, leaving only the bright light from the corridor to flood me; a sobering and offensive spotlight, adding to the shock of having her ripped away from me so suddenly. My body felt like ice where she had been resting against me, warming me.

I wanted to run after her, beg her to forgive me for ruining everything, beg her to forget all about this, but my heart was breaking all over again. I looked down at my hands, watching them shake uncontrollably.

I needed to get my shit together, I couldn’t do this again. My eyes were burning when I decided to slam the door shut and lean against it to steady myself.

The rejection cut sharp and deep. I felt like some type of monster, like there was something incredibly unlovable about me. For some daft reason this was the time my heart decided to relax, and let myself be tender – just for a minute, and it sent her running. I scoffed at the realisation. She wasn’t scared of the passion; the darker side of it, no she wanted that a fair bit actually. But the heavier parts of me, the softer parts – that was the real monster.

I pushed off the door with a deep sigh and started pacing the small storage room in the dim green light, tears streaming down my face.

There had just been something about Alice, drawing me in like a magnet, bringing something out in me that I thought was either dead, or buried so deep I’d never see it again. And the mad bit was I couldn’t figure out why I liked some things about her. Everything she did was like witnessing a car crash miraculously be avoided at the last second. 

The first day she worked for us I remember her running down some stairs with our food orders. The tall stack of containers were leaning against her upper body, only kept stable by her chin. With every step they’d slide around, threatening to knock the entire tower over. Yet somehow she made it down with everything intact despite stumbling on the last step. I couldn’t tell if she was cursed or incredibly skilled to be honest. Although the order had been real scuffed, I’m not sure any of us got what we wanted, but we didn’t have the heart to tell the poor thing. So we ate it anyway. 

The moments that stuck in my mind the most were the ones where she thought no one was watching.

During one of the afterparties in her first week I’d seen her mixing drinks by a console in a dark corner across the room. She was doing a silly little dance to the music, her golden locks bouncing as she dropped a piece of lemon on the floor. A completely insignificant mistake, but she had stopped dead in her tracks, looked around, eyes wide as saucers to see if anyone had seen, then cheekily kicked it under the console. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Later that same night I saw Liam come in through some patio doors. The mad man had some type of vendetta against sleeves or something, cause why the fuck would you be outside like that in the middle of January?

I got up to catch him before he ran off again, “Hey Liam, you alright?”

He was clearly annoyed at having been interrupted doing whatever he was busy with, but he forced a smile, “I’m alright, what do you want?” He glared at me.

Liam was a blunt man, but I liked that about him. It was refreshing.

“What do you know about Alice?” I asked, trying not to look too sheepish.

He tilted his head, giving me a suspicious smile followed by a short pause as if he was contemplating whether to tell me anything at all, “Why are you asking?”

I looked away awkwardly, not knowing how to answer that, not knowing myself why I was so interested in her. He must have been satisfied with the reaction because he continued, “I know she’s freshly single, poor thing was also cheated on. So be kind to her, yeah?”

I nodded, “Yeah no worries man.” I was about to walk off, under the impression that he was done sharing, but he stopped me.

“You remember Shelley?” I nodded, she had just stopped working for us right before they brought on Alice, “Well Shelley put in a good word for her, it’s why she has this job. They’d been friends since childhood. Do you remember Shelley talking about her childhood friend from back home?”

The puzzle pieces started to fall in place. She was that Alice. The Alice that had allegedly set her ex’s car on fire when she found out he’d been cheating, the Alice who had been struggling with depression for as long as Shelley could remember, the Alice that Shelley had been calling everyday religiously, to make sure she hadn’t off’d herself after quitting her job and moving back to her parents.

Liam must have seen the realisation on my face, “Yeah she’s that Alice. So seriously Oli, be kind to her. She’s pretty fragile.”

Before that conversation I’d just had a fascination with watching her weird and charming behaviour, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

And it was making me feel like shit. 

It didn’t help that I made her so delightfully flustered. Every time I spoke a word to her she’d stutter, stumble, or blush. It was intoxicating. I just wanted to tease her.

But things got unbearable when we were in Dublin. We were staying at a smaller hotel and my room was right next to hers. I was laying in bed trying to drift off when I heard a soft moan. My eyes shot open and I listened carefully. Another moan. I quickly sat up in bed and pressed my ear to the wall behind me. There were so many small noises it nearly drove me insane, before I knew it I was rock solid. I started to imagine doing things to her, that I was the one making her sound like that. Every night since I’d get hard thinking about her little noises, letting my imagination roam wild with increasingly degenerate things I wanted to do to her.

And every day I would notice her clothes becoming more revealing, her eyes on me dripping with more and more lust when she thought no one could see her looking.

Every day I’d also catch her staring into space, obviously in deep pain.

Something about that spurred me on, made me want to do things to her. 

Liam’s words kept playing in my head over and over; be kind to her. And I agreed with that, she should get to heal and be surrounded by kindness. We all deserve that.

Then why did I want to humiliate her and call her names? Why was it that when I was alone at night, as cum was shooting onto my stomach, that my final thoughts would always be of her beautiful, freshly tortured face?

I tried to not overthink it, it was just fantasy, right? Just a fun thought to get off to. But then my mind would start to wander during the day as well, imagining things while watching her. That’s when I knew I had a problem.

It wasn’t until I grabbed her that night and fucked her that I realized the rough sex I wanted was actually to lessen the pain; for both of us. Was that healthy? I had no clue – probably not. Everything in my body had screamed at me to do it, like my subconscious knew exactly where to scratch the itch. I don’t know how I knew she had the same itch, I thought it might have been a deranged delusion until she’d confirmed it on the plane. Her pain had been a lighthouse in the night, but instead of steering clear of the warning, I’d headed right towards it.

It worked though. The morning after we had sex I felt lighter in some inexplicable way despite being guilt ridden and sleep deprived. And for the first time in over a year I was inspired to write lyrics. I was so wrapped up in writing on my phone that morning I hadn’t even noticed when Alice walked in from the balcony. Although the lyrics had been complete shit, but that was alright, it was part of the process. I just couldn’t believe I was writing again.

For some naive reason I had thought giving in, to let myself have her – just this once – would rid me of this obsession. So I could finally move on. 

When she made it clear she wanted more, I panicked. But while infuriating, and challenging, I still had my mind set on staying away from her.

I’m an idiot.

My boot hit something while pacing back and forth in the green light of the storage room Alice had left me in, jarring me back to the moment. I noticed I wasn’t shaking anymore and took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

Tonight was different though, not like the first time. I don’t know if it was the exhaustion from the show, or just how impulsive I had been. Everything I told her on the plane I still believed, but something in me came undone when I saw how she was looking at me as I descended the stage. Suddenly her words from our conversation rattled in my head, sounding very convincing; ‘I don’t care, and I don’t want to care.’ 

I was so fed up with caring. I just wanted more of it – more of her. When I grabbed her tonight I felt so much frustration, so much anger with myself for not wanting to stay away anymore. Seeing the fear in her eyes as I choked her, even if it was just for a couple of seconds, made me feel such glee and satisfaction. I could have toyed with her all night.

But then she was wrapped around me, kissing me, caressing me with her delicate hands. She was so soft, so warm... A part of my heart that had long frozen over began to melt. 

I was scared, but I felt brave enough to explore it.

Instead I was immediately reminded of why I had let that part of me freeze in the first place.

Pulling my knees up, I let my elbows rest on them as I dragged my hands through my hair, pushing it out of my face.

My sadness turned bitter. I was expected to be on vocal rest tonight after the show, which I was pleased about. All I wanted to do was wallow in my self pity– alone. I got up to find Liam so he could arrange a ride to the hotel. He had clearly seen something was off about me, but thankfully not questioned it, and before I knew it I was standing in the hotel shower. 

As I was watching the water run down the drain I could feel myself slipping into a dangerously dark place of my mind. A place that had led me to drugs in the past.

I repeatedly tried to shake it off, but hours passed and I was still slipping.

Around two in the morning I decided to go down to the hotel bar, not so much to drink but rather to be around people, and to get a change of scenery. 

When the elevator doors opened to the bar area, my heart sank.

Alice was sitting at the bar on the other side of the room, a bit hunched over. I contemplated turning around, going back upstairs, but I knew what waited for me there, and I’d had enough of that. Instead I took a deep breath and started walking towards her. The closer I got the more obviously drunk she appeared. She must have been here a while. My own sadness got pushed aside, sympathy taking its place. 

“Alice?” I spoke gently, hoping not to startle her. Her hollow eyes turned towards me, barely meeting mine. She was far gone. 

I continued, “Maybe it’s time to head to bed, yeah?”

Thankfully there was no fight in her, she just nodded clumsily and slid off the seat. She would have fallen on her face if I hadn’t caught her. I propped her against me as we slowly stumbled out of the bar. Once we were in the elevator she collapsed further and I slid one arm under her legs while the other supported her back, then I picked her up. She nestled effortlessly into me. 

When we got up to my floor I realised I didn’t have a clue where her room was. I looked down at her pained face so close to mine, “Where’s your room, love?”

Her words came slurred, “You know I actually don't have a clue.”

I stood there staring at her for a long time, knowing my options and not liking them. I could either call Liam and let him know about her state, or take her back to my room.

Would she get fired if they knew she’d gotten this drunk during a tour? 

Without skipping a beat I started walking towards my room. She wasn’t exactly the best at her job, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting in trouble for something I’d been the cause of.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was unlikely she’d get fired, but I couldn’t risk it; couldn’t risk her not being around anymore. I wasn’t ready for that.

I laid her down on the bed. She cuddled into the pillow instinctively and mumbled something inaudible. All I could do was pull the cover on top of her. Meanwhile something pulled at my heart.

I had been so lonely for so long. I didn’t even know this woman, how could I possibly feel anything for her beyond attraction? I was just falling for the idea of her, because I related to her situation. Knowing I’d go insane if I didn’t ignore the feelings, I pushed them aside.

I went and got the bin from the bathroom – just in case, and placed it next to the bed. Then I relaxed into the chair across the bed, watching her.

What fucking mess had I gotten myself into.

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Chapter 5 - Cut me open and tell me what’s inside

Chapter title is lyrics from "Avalanche”

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I was swimming somewhere not quite conscious when I heard snoring – something I hadn’t heard since I was living with my ex. But it was softer, different from the one I had listened to for years. I pried my dry eyes open to make sense of it. It was like looking through a blurry lens from somewhere far, far away, but I could see Oli awkwardly tucked into an armchair across from me – fast asleep. The lights spilling in through the window from the Vegas nightlife, painting him in shades of pinks and blues. A fleeting image of his eyes in the green light flickered in my thoughts before I drifted off again.

The next time I woke up it was much brighter and my head was spinning. I pulled the cover higher to be rid of the assaulting light, wanting to melt back into slumber, but memories from last night had already started to trickle in. How I’d ran down that corridor, trying my best to keep the tears in before I found the ladies bathroom. When I finally locked myself in a stall, the tears had come instantly and violently. I was so tired of hurting, I just wanted an escape. But Oli had…

I shot up in bed – a grave mistake considering my current state – and gripped my head with both hands as if trying to prevent my brain from falling out.

Oli was here last night. In my room.I looked around carefully through squinting eyes.

Nevermind. 

This was not my room.

I quickly patted myself down to see if I was naked, but to my bewilderment I was still fully dressed in last night's attire. Before I got a chance to panic further about the situation, I heard the door open and shut, followed by Oli walking in holding some drinks. He didn’t even look in my direction as he walked over to shut the blinds before coming back around to wordlessly hand me a ginger ale. He gestured for me to move so he could sit at the end of the bed, so I scrambled to pull my legs up. It wasn’t until he was sitting that he allowed himself to look at me. His gaze was cold, unbothered, and his voice matched it, “Do you agree now that we shouldn’t keep doing this?”

I couldn’t think straight, clearly not sober yet from last night's escapades of vodka based drink selection. After a moment of just staring blankly at him, he looked down at the bottle in my hand and sighed deeply, “Drink up, it’ll help.”

I stared at the bottle, it was sweating on the duvet.

“Give it here, I’ll open it for you.” His voice was much softer now, clearly taking pity on my state. When he leaned over to take it off me our hands brushed, ever so slightly, but it was enough to make me feel a mix of the emotions from last night when he had laced our fingers together. Just much duller. 

The opened bottle was handed back to me and I downed half of its content in one go, not realising how thirsty I had been. Some of it ran down the side of my face, eliciting a chuckle from Oli, but he abruptly stopped himself, like he had realised his steely guard was faltering.

‘Do you agree now that we shouldn’t keep doing this?’

My brain was slowly catching up on the conversation, trying to process his question.

The problem was that, despite last night, I really didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to stop sneaking my indulgent glances at him, didn’t want to stop thinking about him at night, and I absolutely didn’t want to stop being manhandled by him. Not only was he an effective distraction throughout the day, but I wanted to feel that freedom again, something only he had managed to do for me. He had made me feel so incredibly alive.

Except last night, when he made me wish I was dead.

It was as if he had been a mirror, forcing me to look at the despair inside myself. The mangled mess left there to rot after having my path in life torn away, and my personality ripped to shreds. I didn’t have a clue who I really was, what I enjoyed, or what I wanted out of life. Just aimlessly taking it one day at a time.

I had gone to the bar last night to forget what I had seen in his eyes, but as I sat there attempting to drown my sorrow, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was as broken as me. I knew he had drug problems in the past, and I knew he had been cheated on. How much of that was still unresolved; how much did he still carry with him? Last night my curiosity had been out of sympathy, but today it was laced with anger. As if it was somehow his fault I'd been forced to feel these things, like he had made me look there.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t sobered up yet, or just stupidity, but I decided that I didn’t want to answer his question about us. Instead I wanted to return the favour and make him look at his own suffering.

I cleared my throat, yet the words came horse, “Tell me about her.”

Instantly I regretted asking. It felt so cruel, so callous.

“She was a cunt.” He proclaimed without a thought, spoken as casually as you’d talk about the weather, “That’s all anyone needs to know about her really.”

I blinked. Annoyed he hadn’t reacted the way I expected. Annoyed he hadn’t actually shared anything at all.

Alright let’s be cruel then.

“Who did she cheat with?”

“Old friend.” Hints of tension in his voice now.

“How did you find out?”

There was a slight pause this time, annoyance clearly setting in. “Why are you asking, Alice?”

“Did you start doing drugs again after you found out?”

His expression changed to anger and disbelief as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Why the fuck do you-” He started, but stopped himself to stare off in the distance for a short moment. When he continued he was completely calm, looking straight at me, “Yeah, I did.”

The thing in me that wanted to torment him unceremoniously deflated, and I could feel my expression soften.

He sucked his teeth before he continued, “I got out of that pit though, like I have many times in the past.”

There was something I had been wondering about since the first night he grabbed me, and I can only guess the alcohol still in my system let my intrusive thoughts win, because suddenly the question had slipped out of my mouth, “The night we had sex, is that what you were talking about when you said you wanted to throw everything away?”

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, “I mean yeah, I thought that had been obvious. My history with ketamine isn’t exactly a secret, I’ve talked about it plenty. Didn’t you google us before the tour?”

“I did, but I thought you hadn’t touched drugs in years.” I said, hoping he’d confirm or deny it.

Still clearly uncomfortable, he responded, “I’ve been off the stuff since after the breakup, so about a year. That was the only relapse in a long time though.”

Crap, I could feel another question coming, “So… why had you almost relapsed the night we had sex?” I felt guilty for asking, knowing I shouldn’t probe; knowing I had gone too far about five questions ago. 

That caused him to immediately push off the bed, “You know what Alice, maybe it’s time to get you back to your room.”

A fair reaction – and I agreed – but when I shifted to get out of bed everything was spinning from having moved too fast, and I could feel myself falling forward. Oli was there in a heartbeat and pushed me back into a sitting position over the side of the bed, the sudden motion threatening to make me hurl.

Annoyance emanated from him, “Bloody hell, you’ve got to stop doing that.” He said, crouching down next to the bed, still holding me up by the shoulders. His face was too close to mine, his scent surrounding me. The way he smelled was triggering something in me, something I didn’t quite understand, like so many other things I couldn’t figure out – or wanted to think about. Then suddenly I became aware that I probably looked insane, and possibly smelled even worse. 

‘Maybe it’s time to get you back to your room.’ his words rang in my ears as I fought off the nausea. I turned my head slightly out of embarrassment before I spoke, “Why am I in your room anyway?”

“Cause someone decided getting shitfaced on tour was a good idea.”

While his words may have been passive aggressive, his tone was sweet. A pang of regret hit me. This wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to hurt him. I wasn’t the only one in pain, and I felt so incredibly selfish for all of it. For the probing, for wanting to continue being used when he had specifically told me it wasn’t who he wanted to be. 

For running away last night when it had gotten hard. 

My own words now ringing in my head; I don’t just give up when things get a bit complicated.

How ironic.

I spoke softly out of shame, “I-I'm sorry Oli. I just didn’t want to feel like this anymore.”

A frown grew on his face, ”Nothing to worry about, I mean sure you’re being a bit of a bitch, aren’t you? But you're not in some type of trouble, I won’t tell Liam how drunk you got if that’s what you're thinking.”

I didn’t want to cry, but I could feel my eyes starting to burn as I spoke, “No, it’s not that… I'm sorry for running away last night.”

He was clearly caught off guard, sadness – hurt even – painted across his features. Slowly he released the grip on my shoulders, testing to see if I could remain upright. When he was happy I wouldn’t collapse, he leaned back, still crouching before me as I continued, 

“It was just too much, I felt so- didn’t know how to, or even begin to-” My vision was blurred with tears as I heard the frantic nonsense escape my mouth.

What was I doing?

His hands were back on me, on my arms this time, “Hey, sh-sh-sh, Alice, it’s alright, there’s no need for that.” But my tears turned to uncontrollable sobs.

“Ah, fuck.” He muttered as he pulled me down into his lap to sit on the floor, my legs wrapped around him, and his arms around me. I had wanted to wait till I was alone to cry again, but I was too drained – too overwhelmed, so I let myself be held as I cried into his hair.

It wasn’t until he held me tighter that I realised he was crying too.

A long time passed, and every time I thought I was done I started back up again. A dam had burst inside me and so many feelings were melting into tears, pouring out of me as I held onto Oli like a lifeline. I cried over the maddening numbness of wasting my life in mundane hell, I cried for the years worth of isolation, I cried over the frustration of last night not going the way I needed it to, I cried over the disgust I felt with myself for having let any of this happen in the first place. And then I cried for all the pain and confusion inside me I couldn’t put into words.

His tears came to an end before mine, so he lazily caressed my back as I wept. When the floodgates finally closed we were left just sitting there, embracing each other in silence. The thought of pulling away to face him after this was nerve wracking, but I knew it had to happen. 

So I wiped at my mess of a face with my sleeve, then took several deep breaths to gather myself before leaning back against the bed behind me. 

Oli’s eyes were red and slightly puffy, and he spoke without skipping a beat, as if he had been waiting for me, “I thought she was my soulmate.” A sombre smile tugged at his lips, “I know it sounds daft but I really did believe that.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t think it sounded daft, but I was stunned, not expecting such personal details.

He huffed out a bitter laugh, “Problem is, once you really believe in something eternal like that, but it turns out to be some cosmic prank – what do you do with that? Everything in life lost its purpose, there was no point to anything anymore.” Looking down, shaking his head, he continued, “If I could have been that sure about something, knowing it to be as real as anything else on this planet, how was I supposed to trust my gut again?”

I didn’t have any answers for him, but I knew he wasn’t expecting any. Instead I decided to answer his question from earlier.

“I don’t want to stop what we’re doing.”

He looked up at me through his hair, “Even after what happened last night?”

There was a slight internal battle, but I was so worn down, and I knew it was my turn to share. I looked away before I spoke, “My breakup wasn’t the same as yours. I wasn’t blindsided, I think I knew for a long time that he’d been cheating on me, and I knew he wasn’t my soulmate.. He was barely a friend.” I could only describe it as an outer body experience to hear these things come from my mouth; things I didn’t even like to think about.

When I looked back at him, his head was tilted to the side in bewilderment, “Then why are you hurting so much?”

I sighed deeply, “Because for the past eleven years I had let myself become a version of myself I thought was expected of me, and now I am nothing at all because of it. Just empty, with no interests or passions.”

He shook his head again, “That explains the hurt, but the rest isn’t true, is it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely curious.

There was a pause as he scanned my face, contemplating, “From my experience, people who say they feel empty are usually the ones bursting at the seams with something. Maybe something they’re ashamed of or just repressed for whatever reason.” He leaned in a bit closer, that playful smile looking back at me, “Honestly love, you seem pretty passionate to me. Why else would you choose to be choked by a rockstar with drug problems, instead of just getting a new hobby or something – a bit extreme innit?”

Heat crept up my cheeks, and I could feel a smile play on my lips.

I couldn't tell if what he said carried any truth for me personally or not. Sure, it sounded plausible enough, but how would I know? There was such a mess inside me I didn’t know where to begin to untangle it. But a little bit of hope fluttered in my chest, like maybe I wasn’t a completely lost cause after all.

I heard the faint ding of the elevator from the hotel corridor, and I was abruptly reminded that the road trip portion of the tour starts today, and I was expected to prep the tour bus with Liam as soon as it arrives around noon.

I straightened with a jolt, eyes widening, “What time is it!?”

My jolt had clearly jarred him, “I haven’t a clue, around one maybe?”

I started to push myself off him, feeling panicked, but stopped myself when I remembered what happened last time I tried to move too quickly, “Can you help me up? I need to get ready for work.” I asked, looking sheepish.

“Sure”, he helped me up slowly and I made my way to the door, but there was one last question still rattling inside my head, clawing to get out. “Hey Oli,” I looked back at him standing next to the bed.

“Yeah?”

I knew this was a bad idea, but it had left my lips before I had a chance to think it through, “Do you want to keep doing this?” I swallowed, “As in, doing things to me.”

He shifted awkwardly, eyes falling to the floor. Disappointment washed over me at his reaction to the loaded question.

The tone of his voice shifted into something much more intense, “More than you know, Alice. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

The disappointment melted away, quickly replaced by the fighting spirit in me that still wasn’t willing to let the one thing I was passionate about slip away. “Because you can’t trust your gut?”

He grinned at my question, but it died on his lips as he spoke, “Because I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons.”

His words sprouted so many follow-up questions; so many arguments. Realising this could turn into a lengthy conversation – and I was very much out of time – I decided to cut things short with a simple few words that would hopefully work in my favour.

I pushed the door handle down, “I’ll be skipping the underwear from now on.” When I opened the door – a clear indication that the conversation was over – his eyes darkened, violence behind his stare.

I couldn’t help but smile as I left.

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Chapter 6 - That’s all the time we have this week

Chapter title is lyrics from "MANTRA"

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The world was testing me, clearly trying to see where my breaking point was.

About two hours had passed since I left Oli in his hotel room, and I hadn’t sat down since. On a normal day that would have been fine, but considering I was just now starting to sober up, combined with Liam having me work at double speed due to being late again, it was unusually brutal.

A few times I had to lean against the bus for a moment to catch my breath after dragging luggage, various drinks, snacks, bedding, equipment, and whatever random things the band had decided to bring onto the vehicle. It wasn’t made better by the fact that this was a double decker, meaning many of the heavier items needed to be carried up the cramped bus stairs; where the sleeping bunks were located. The lower tier was mostly seating, with some tables, a small sink, and a toilet in the back next to the stairs.

When we were finally done setting everything up and making the beds, we collapsed on the larger sofa in the seating area. Liam sighed deeply and looked at his watch, “Alright, we did it. We even have some time to spare. Fucking miraculous.”

I raised my arms in celebration, but immediately dropped them again, entirely too tired to keep them there.

We had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while when I let myself sink into the sofa further, closing my eyes, in heaven from being off my feet. That’s when Liam, out of nowhere, decided to ask, “Did you have sex with Oli last night?”

My eyes shot open to stare up at him in shock. He never asked me any personal questions, and I had thought our conversation on the plane was a one time deal of getting personal. He smiled when I didn’t answer, “You did, didn’t you?”

I sat up straight and positioned myself to face him, “Actually, no. We didn’t do much.”

His expression turned to confusion, “But you spent the night with him?”

I scratched my head, not knowing how to explain the bizarre series of events; not knowing if I even wanted to share them with Liam, “I-I guess? It’s a bit… complicated.”

He shot me a teasing smile, “Do you like him?”

I blushed, not knowing how to answer that question either.

“Sorry love, I don’t mean to interrogate you. I just couldn’t help but notice you weren't in your hotel room this morning when I went to wake you up.” 

Guilt hit me for having been late so much at this point, “I’m really sorry about that, I swear I’ll get better at-”

Clearly uninterested in my apology, he cut me off, ”So I may not have been completely honest with you when I said I didn't know anything about Oli’s intentions.” He said, looking guilty himself, “It might mean nothing at all, but I have seen him looking at you Alice, and I don’t just mean in that lusty way you stare at him all the time.” 

My blush deepened, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. I didn’t realise I had been that obvious.

He held his hands up, “Like I said, it might be nothing. But he’s positively beaming when he looks at you sometimes. And while you do with that information as you wish, can I ask you a favour?”

I felt dumbfounded but curious, “Of course, what?”

“I can’t help but notice you haven’t looked at him that same way. So if you’re gonna break the poor man's heart, please do it gently, yeah? He’s clearly been through hell and back.”

In all honesty I didn’t know how I felt about Oli, I was entirely too wrapped up in how he made me feel. But besides our conversation this morning, we barely knew each other. How could he possibly feel anything for me? Surely Liam had misinterpreted the situation, right?

Right?

My mind wasn’t allowed to process Liams questions any further before we could hear the band members outside, and suddenly Lee burst through the door, taking long strides to get upstairs. Mat was right on his heels and disappeared up the steps behind Lee.

“Good morning to you too, lads!” Liam yelled up to them. 

Earlier Liam had explained that Lee and Mat would always fight over the best bunk, having apparently resulted in a handful of injuries in the past.

I heard more footsteps outside, and out of habit I fixed my hair in anticipation of seeing Oli, making Liam chuckle next to me. I glared at him but he just gave me a knowing smile, so I gave him a well-deserved jab with my elbow.

Matt was next (again, not to be confused with Mat), he strolled in casually while hugging a pillow, shaking his head, “Will they ever stop doing that? Who cares what bunk you get, they’re all the same when you’re in them.”

You could hear Mat and Lee arguing faintly upstairs, then the bus was shaking slightly from their brawl, mixed in with some yelping noises every so often.

Then Oli stepped onto the bus while responding to Matt, “I vote we let them fight it out, personally. They’re like toddlers, let them get some energy out so we can have a nice trip.”

Then everyone took their seats, and to my surprise I watched as Oli took the chair right across from me, on the other side of the walkway. He let his eyes roam my body for a moment – never actually meeting my eyes – before looking away.

Liam inclined his head towards Matt’s pillow in confusion, “You know we brought pillows, right?”

“Yeah but last night I slept better than I’ve done in years, I couldn’t just leave this puppy behind.” He said, slapping his pillow, looking down at it as if it was his most precious possession.

Oli laughed, “You stole the pillow, mate? I thought those days were behind us.”

Matt’s face lit up, “Remember when we walked out carrying a whole mattress? I still can’t believe they didn’t even try to stop us.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures as they say,” Oli looked over to Liam to explain further, “We didn’t have enough bunks on the cheap tour bus we could afford back then, you see. So we got creative.” He said, tapping his finger to his temple.

The conversation went on but I couldn’t focus on what was being said, getting too distracted looking at Oli.

He was wearing the same plain black t-shirt from earlier with some grey shorts. I hadn’t taken much note of his appearance at the time due to my state, and how emotional everything had gotten. While all of us were dressed in more casual attire than usual – both because this was the beginning of the road trip, but also because Vegas was quite warm compared to what we were used to in the UK this time of the year – it was such a stark contrast from what Oli usually wore. Seeing him this dressed down, without any of his usual loud accessories, prints or colours, really accentuated him. Elaborate inkwork cascading down every limb, up his neck, around his face. All of which made so much sense with his usual attire, everything coming together as one cohesive design. Now it threatened to look out of place next to the plain clothes, with his gentle eyes, boyish smile, and messy hair.

Somehow both of these versions worked entirely too well. And I found myself wondering if there was anything this man couldn't pull off. I also found myself wondering what some of the designs on his thighs looked like higher up. As my mind tried to imagine it, I realised that while I had felt his dick inside me, I hadn’t actually seen it.

I must have unknowingly let my eyes rest on his crotch area for a long time while I was daydreaming, because out of nowhere Oli shot me a piercing glance without turning his head, making me straighten on the sofa, tucking my hair behind my ear awkwardly.

“Shall we get going then?” Liam asked, saving me from further embarrassment.

This was also the day I learned that Liam used to be a bus driver when he was younger, which was apparently a big reason the touring agency had wanted him.

Hours passed on the long journey and I had managed to keep my thoughts in check for the most of it. The daylight had faded into darkness when Liam pulled into a Walmart car park for a short break. 

“Alright lads, you have around 30 minutes before the store shuts. Go, go, go!” He proclaimed after parking up, hurrying himself to get off the bus. Everyone scurried to get out to grab the variety of things they had been planning during the past hours.

Everyone except Oli, who was looking right at me. His arms were crossed, one of his legs propped up on the other.

We sat in silence until no one could be heard in the distance.

When all we could hear from the calm night was distant cars, he spoke, “Are you wearing any underwear?”

I swallowed, feeling increasingly nervous, “No.”

His arms relaxed onto the armrests, and his eyes darkened – along with his voice, “Show me.” 

Not a question; a command.

I could feel the heat spread throughout my body, continuing up my cheeks. I was wearing a simple black mini skirt and an oversized tour shirt. With a nervous exhale, knowing someone could come back at any moment – knowing the bus door is still open, I decided to obey his command. My heartbeat fell to my core as I leaned back and spread my legs, raising them up to let my feet rest next to me on the sofa, giving him a clear view of my more-than-likely soaking pussy from having been wrapped up in dirty thoughts about him all day.

His propped leg dropped to the floor with a deep sigh, and he let his hand play on his chin. The carnal gaze shifted between awe and something barely contained, as he let himself leisurely take in the sight of me. 

That’s when I noticed his bulge shifting – growing, causing my breath to hitch.

The noise got his attention, and his expression turned intense and his serious eyes shot to mine, “Touch yourself.”

Another command.

I wordlessly reached between my legs to do as I was told. I was in fact soaking, and the wetness made a noise that caused the now clear outline in his shorts – pulling slightly to the right might I add – to twinge in response.

His lips parted slightly, letting his fingers brush them as he appeared almost intoxicated.

I was pushing at my entrance to elicit more wet noises, so I could see that delightful twinge again when he spoke, “No, play with your clit, love.” His eyes transfixed on my pussy now.

Stopping my motion, I went back up to my clit, rubbing it slowly in small circles. After a moment a whimper spilled from my mouth as it started to feel particularly good. That wicked smile bloomed on his lips, his eyes still not leaving my pussy, “That’s it, a bit faster now.”

Once again I obeyed. My breath came heavier, and adrenaline was hitting me as I realised I would cum if I kept going like this long enough, causing my eyes to dart towards the bus door nervously.

He caught me looking and abruptly leaned forward, shooting me daggers as he let his arms rest on his legs, “Look at me.” He said. Demanding words, sharp with anger.

My wide eyes met his, “Don’t worry about that,” he said, gesturing towards the open door, “Just keep looking at me.”

A breathy “Okay.” left me, as I continued to build my orgasm, followed by another small whimper.

With a tilted head, his dark eyes roamed my face, and I watched as that corrupt smile continuously tugged at his lips. “I’ve thought about what you look like when you touch yourself so many times now, I had to see it for myself.” His gaze darted to my pussy before returning to look at me. He continued speaking, tone growing increasingly intense, “You’re fucking stunning.”

Small breathy moans start spilling from my open mouth, causing Oli’s own breathing to grow heavier as he pressed on, sounding nearly demonic now, “You’re a fucking whore for doing this, you know that right?” 

His words just encouraged me, setting something in me ablaze – getting me closer to my goal. 

He huffed out a breathy laugh, looking like he’s about to snap; like he’s also close to going over some kind of edge. He carried on in the same dangerous voice, “I want to push you to your fucking limit, Alice. I want to see your makeup run down your pretty little face as I make you choke on my cock, testing how long you can hold your breath for me.”

I was shaking, feeling my orgasm building, and building.

He let out a ragged breath, “You close, love?”

I nodded through my whimpers.

He shot out of his chair and was suddenly over me, one of his hands slipping behind my neck, gripping my nape firmly to keep me looking at him, our breaths mingling with his face hovering mere inches from mine. His other hand disappeared between my legs, his middle and ring fingers slipping into me, going straight for the g spot. 

My whole body went electric.

“Cum for me.” He demanded with a softness the other commands had lacked.

I went over the edge, my free hand grabbing his arm as my eyes rolled back. Through the sounds spilling out of me I could hear him murmur words of encouragement, “That’s it love, that’s it… Fuck.”

As I came back down his eyes were on fire, appearing drunk with lust. “You’re such a good whore.” He whispered, a devil's smile growing on his lips as his fingers started moving in me again. “Keep going, Alice. Cum for me again.”

My hand started moving again, but as soon as it did we heard distant chatter.

Oli leaned back, head snapping towards the open door, then back at me with violence behind his eyes – clearly frustrated to have his playtime cut short.

He pulled his fingers out of me and fell back into his chair, propping his leg back up on his knee to conceal his otherwise very obvious erection.

As I hurried to pull my skirt down to cover myself up, I looked up to meet his fiery gaze staring back at me, his fingers in his mouth – the same two fingers I just came on – sucking them dry as his chest rose and fell with his still laboured breathing.

I felt panic grow inside me, knowing I wouldn’t be able to appear normal; knowing I was too far gone, I got up and ran to the toilet, locking myself in there before anyone could see me.

My reflection in the mirror confirmed my fear. My hair was a mess, my face was flushed, and my eyes appeared as glazed with lust as Oli’s had.

There was no doubt in my mind that if we kept going like this it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about us.

…Only a matter of time before I found out if Oli actually had feelings for me or not.

Before I had to figure out how I felt about him.

I swallowed, spiralling further into panic.

What the hell was I doing?

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Chapter 7 - My heart’s a hieroglyph, it talks in tongues

Chapter title is lyrics from "Run”

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Get yourself together Alice.

But the woman staring back at me in the stupid little mirror just continued looking panicked and flustered.

I should be happy. I should be over the moon. When I left Oli in his hotel room this morning, informing him I wouldn’t be wearing any underwear going forward, my hope was that he’d eventually give in to temptation. Not realising he’d pounce the very second he could. Regardless of the risk. 

How could I have known it would be that effective? 

Sure, maybe I should have been able to put two and two together after he proceeded to throw me over his shoulder and manhandle me, just one day after very adamantly arguing what a bad idea more sex would be.

‘Because I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons.’ His words echoed in my mind. And while I didn’t want to agree with him – while I didn’t want to even entertain the idea – I had to admit the same thoughts had occurred to me once or twice as well, but I’d swatted them away like flies at a picnic.

Frustration was building. What if Liam was right? What if Oli was interested in me, and what if he eventually wanted something more? A big part of me thought it was absurd, he barely knows me. But I still couldn’t help but toss the idea around, examining it from every angle. It would explain why our time together in the storage room turned so incredibly intimate out of nowhere – and why would he bring me back to his room when I was blackout drunk, just to take care of me?

No, that was a ridiculous thought to have. Any decent human being would take care of someone in need, and the intimate moment could happen to anyone – it doesn’t mean anything.

I could see the panic grow on my features.

While it probably meant nothing, I knew that if there was even a sliver of a chance Liam was right, I had to figure out what the hell I was doing here as soon as possible.

Despite this being a truly horrible time to do this, I couldn’t resist touching on those painful thoughts I’d been ignoring the past couple of days, knowing that if I didn’t take advantage of my current panicked state, I’d never want to revisit them again.

I leaned forwards, placing my hands on the sink in the small tour bus toilet, and gave myself the steeliest stare I could muster up.

Why – The Fuck – do you like to be used, choked, and called a whore?

While I tried to answer my own question, images of Oli’s delightful expressions when he did these things to me flooded my mind, making my knees weak, and my stern face melted into a flustered smile. It didn’t help that I just had an orgasm, and wouldn’t mind a couple more.

Out of pure stubbornness, I slapped myself and decided to fight through it.

Alice – you horny piece of shit – why do you like it so much?

What does it actually make me feel, what do I get out of it? Is it the loss of control, the freedom? Sure, but while that explains part of it, I knew there was a lot more to it.

I felt shame flood me, fighting me, making me want to stop going down this path.

Was Oli right, was it some type of self harm? There was a part of that thought that scared me, but I couldn’t help but feel like the shoe didn’t quite fit.

I shook my head, knowing I was getting nowhere. I was ready to move on to the next question when I noticed the bite mark on my neck slightly poking through my concealer, further reminding me that it was only a matter of time before everyone would find out about us at this rate, further spiralling me into panic.

Okay, seriously – focus. Do you like him?

I sighed deeply. How do I feel about Oliver Sykes besides finding him incredibly attractive? I know I like how passionate he is, not just sexually, but with all his projects. I know I like how funny and charming he can be. I know I like the way I feel when he’s around me, regardless of what's going on. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but he made me feel some type of way – the same way I felt when I could smell him.

Discomfort was starting to creep in as I realised it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to spend more time with him, maybe get to know him better. As if just the idea of it becoming something else, something more, struck fear in some tender part of me that just wanted to run away and hide.

I found myself hoping that Liam was wrong with his observation, because at least then I could keep enjoying my time with Oli without anyone getting their feelings hurt. If anyone else found out about us it wouldn’t be a big deal – lots of people casually hook up.

The woman looking back at me in the mirror looked sad and defeated, but all signs of panic and fluster had left her.

Knowing I wasn’t getting anywhere, I took one last deep breath and got myself ready to leave the bathroom.

Everyone was back when I stepped out, and Liam had just gotten back into the driver's seat, ready to keep going. I awkwardly sat back down across from Oli, who was on his phone, casually eating some oreos the guys had picked up, as if nothing had just happened between us.

Right as I picked up my own phone to distract myself, Oli looked up at me through his messy hair and shot me a warm smile before putting another oreo in his mouth. The warmth of it caused something in my chest to heat up in response, shocking me so severely I fumbled and sent my phone tumbling onto the floor next to his feet.

You could tell he stifled a laugh. With his mouth full of oreo, he bent over to collect my phone and hand it back to me. Thankfully no one else paid any mind to my awkwardness, as they were too busy having a heated argument about amp models. But I felt like a ridiculous school girl getting flustered by some pretty boy. It made so much more sense to me to get flustered by the man before we had sex. Now it came with some implication that I wasn’t ready for.

The rest of the trip was an exhausting mix of awkwardness and confusion, made worse when the conversation died down from everyone getting tired, leaving me to my thoughts more than I had liked. Leaving me and Oli to accidentally lock eyes more often than I was comfortable with, knowing it meant we both couldn’t keep each other out of our minds.

It was 3 am when Liam pulled up to the hotel we were staying the next two nights.

Everyone filtered out of the bus like zombies, carrying our bare essentials for the rest of the night. We were all on the same floor of the hotel, so when the elevator doors opened I headed straight for my room, forcing myself to not look back to see where Oli was. 

I heard a bunch of doors open and close as I tried to get the card for my room to work. With every swipe I was internally praying it would unlock, and after every failed swipe I had to fight myself to look back to check if he was there.

With a click the door finally unlocked, but for some inexplicitly stupid reason I allowed myself to look back. 

He was standing all the way down the corridor by his door. He swung it open and waved for me to come over before he stepped inside.

I froze.

Why did I have to look back? It could have been so simple. I could be having hours of uncomplicated sleep ahead of me, but now there was some unknown abyss waiting for me down the hall. Would we have amazing sex, or a conversation I wasn’t ready for? Spin the bloody wheel.

Knowing I couldn’t resist either way, I locked my door and headed towards the unknown on the other side of the corridor.

I shuffled past him awkwardly while he held the door open, then dropped my bag on the floor before sitting down on the end of the bed, not knowing what to expect next. He locked the door and came over to sit next to me.

He leaned forward, facing away from me as he spoke, “Listen love, I clearly can’t keep my hands to myself, and while I’m aware that is exactly what you want, I’m struggling with it a fair bit. I feel like I’m at your mercy here.” I could feel myself becoming claustrophobic as he continued, “I had every intention to have an actual conversation with you when we were alone on the bus, but that went out the window as soon as I saw the way you looked at me.”

I shifted awkwardly, wanting to run away.

“I know you barely know me Alice, but can I ask you something?” He tilted his head in my direction and searched my face, questioning, “Do you trust me?”

I was stunned, not knowing what I had expected, but that wasn’t it. It must have shown on my face as he looked surprised back at me. I opened my mouth, “What do you mean?”

It was his turn to shift awkwardly, his voice dipping a bit lower as he spoke, “When I choke you, do you trust I won’t just choke you out?”

I didn’t have to think about it, I could feel it in my gut, “Yes.”

He huffed out a small laugh before turning his body towards me, “And why is that exactly?”

I frowned, “I don’t know, but I don’t think you’d actually harm me.”

His head tilted to the side, bewilderment spreading across his features, “All I’ve told you is how I don’t feel like I can control myself around you, how I want to hurt you might I add, and you’re telling me you don’t think I’ll harm you? Are you stupid or something?”

I scoffed, “Maybe, but there’s never been anything wrong with my intuition. Like I said, I knew my ex was cheating, I knew my past life wasn’t for me. So if my gut is telling me I can trust you, I am pretty sure I can.”

He shook his head, “That is a pretty big leap of faith you’re taking there, innit?”

I paused, contemplating his words, “If I’ve learnt anything from the past 11 years, it’s that not taking any risk at all is probably the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.” I looked down at my hands in my lap, playing with the hem of my skirt anxiously as we sat in silence after my response. I knew he had a problem trusting his own intuition after what happened with his ex, so I couldn’t help but worry that my remark could’ve been interpreted as a jab, despite not intending it to. 

I was about to clarify when he spoke, his tone had grown much more serious, and his words came slower, “When I choked you the other night in the arena, it didn’t look like you wanted me to stop. If there’s any truth to that, what exactly is it you’re looking for here?”

Of course he had noticed, is there anything this man doesn’t pick up on?

Shame was simmering somewhere under the surface, but something came bubbling up from beneath it, “I…” the words spilled out of me as I realised them, “I don’t want to die if that’s what you’re thinking – at least I don’t think I do. I’ve just been living my life in such lukewarm temperatures, too scared to experience anything to the fullest, never feeling something real. I just want to let go and have someone fly me closer to the sun, someone that won’t burn me. Someone I…”

Oli was watching me closely as I spoke my thoughts out loud, “Someone you trust.” He said, finishing my thought.

I swallowed, feeling myself sink deeper into panic.

As I sat there trying to fight the urge to burst out of the door, I was once again aware of the wonderful way he smelled, and suddenly it became crystal clear what it made me feel…

Safety.

He smelled like safety – just like his mere presence made me feel safe. How incredibly ironic, considering how terrified I currently was. 

I could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he watched me, but it was too much. The revelation was too much, the moment was too much. So I shot out of bed, “I need to go.” I hurriedly exclaimed as I all-but-ran to the door. 

But he had leapt in front of me, blocking the exit, “See that makes no sense to me, love.” Angry eyes stared down at me as he began stalking towards me, forcing me to take steps back in the direction of the bed, “You’re trying to convince me you trust me, but you keep running away scared. Explain that to me.”

“Like you said, we barely know each other.” I answered, my heart racing.

Another step, “Yet you’re so sure you trust me.” He said, his strong build towering over me, his hazel eyes shooting me daggers.

We took several more steps before my foot suddenly hit the bed behind me, causing my breath to hitch. “Yes. W-why does it matter to you anyway?” I retorted in a pathetic attempt to stand my ground, knowing my stutter had only made things worse. 

In one quick motion Oli picked me up and threw me onto the bed, knocking the air out of me. Then his warm and hard body was on top of mine, intense eyes staring down at me, his hair brushing my face, “Trust doesn’t come easily for me.” His tone was dark – frustrated. ”You think I open up to people a lot? You think I sleep around? That’s not who I am, love.” His fingers brushed my forehead tenderly, an eerie action considering the situation, “Then you casually come along, basically telling me you trust me with your life. You’re so fucking confusing Alice, you want me to hurt you, you cry in my arms – open up to me – yet you keep wanting to run away. If you actually trust me, what the fuck are you so scared of?”

I wanted to tell him to let me go, I wanted to run away again – not out of fear of his actions, but fear of where the conversation was heading. But I also knew he deserved answers, despite the way he was going about getting them. So without thinking I spoke the first thought that came to mind, “I-I just got out of a relationship, I’m not ready for anything.”

The tender caress abruptly grabbed my chin in a painful grip, “You’re chattin’ shit, that relationship meant nothing to you. What are you actually scared of?” He bit out.

My heart was in my throat, shocked at his sudden increase in aggression, words I didn’t know to be true until I spoke them out loud came flying out of me, “I’m scared I’ll fall for you.”

The frustration left him instantly, his grip loosened and slipped away. He searched my face carefully before speaking much softer, sweet even, “Why does that scare you?”

I looked up at him, feeling as if I was losing some internal battle I hadn’t known I’d been fighting, “Because we might become more than… whatever this is.”

He squinted down at me, “Would that really be so bad?”

I nodded, scared to speak my next realisation out loud, knowing it threatened to make me cry again – and I had cried entirely too much lately.

Hurt spread across his face, “Why?”

My words came so softly, they were barely audible, “I… I’m terrified of having something worth losing.”

He rolled off of me and positioned himself next to me on the bed. We stared up at the ceiling for a short moment as my heart threatened to leap out of my chest, and I contemplated making a run for the door when he spoke, still staring at the ceiling, “Stay the night.”

Not a command this time, but a request. 

He was done forcing me to stay, forcing me to share my thoughts, and was handing the choice back to me. I could give in and make a run for it – get away from the deep discomfort I was drowning in. 

Or I could stay and fight through it.

But I really didn’t think I could fight through it, so I whispered, “I can’t.”

He turned his head towards me and spoke softly, pleading, “Yes you can.”

When I didn’t answer he sat up, “I’m gonna get ready for bed, when I get back I hope you’re still around.” He shot me one last pleading look before he disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on.

For a while I just laid there – frozen – both body and mind, before I sprung out of bed, grabbed my bag and headed straight for the exit. I stopped myself just a couple of feet short, realising this might have been an ultimatum. That if I left now this might be the end of it all, the end of all the delights and all the discomfort the same.

I let my bag drop to the floor again and watched the bathroom door, listening to the running water. I felt anger set in, like it wasn’t fair of him to expect anything from me, but it faded away as quickly as it came, knowing he had every right to walk away from this if it’s not what he wanted.

I started pacing the room, feeling the timer run out to make a choice. Do I risk leaving, in the hopes he’ll come around and want to continue anyway? 

Or do I face my fears and stay?

I sat down on the bed, still unsure what to do. The sound of the shower felt deafening at this point, as if it grew louder with each passing moment I hadn’t made up my mind yet.

Every so often the water would splash differently, reminding me the culprit of my pressing issue was in there. The man that both made me feel safe, and struck so much fear in me I wanted to run for the hills. Someone who filled me to the brim with excitement, yet I was dreading his reappearance to an immeasurable degree.

The shower stopped, and my racing mind went into overdrive, raking over everything that’s happened the past three weeks, the last 11 years – right back to my childhood, as if I could find answers somewhere in there, going down useless paths that lead nowhere, when the bathroom door opened and my racing thoughts came to a shrieking halt.

Only in boxers, steam lapping him as he stepped into the room. He was drying his wet hair with a towel as he wordlessly walked over to the bed, watching me with a blank stare to see what I would do next. As if it was written all over me that I still hadn’t made up my mind.

I got off the bed to collect my bag before looking back at him, then with a deep breath I chose to walk through the bathroom door instead of the exit.

As soon as I shut the door behind me I felt myself go slightly numb, half disassociating from my decision. I chose to not acknowledge it and go about my business. I showered, I brushed my teeth, and I dressed myself in an oversized t-shirt, covering some sexy underwear. At least this way I felt ready for multiple outcomes, not knowing where this night was heading.

When I stepped out of the bathroom he was laying in bed, one arm propped behind his head, the other holding his phone, which he proceeded to put away when he saw me. Shyness washed over me suddenly, the setting feeling entirely too domestic, too familiar, yet I didn’t know how to behave in this setting with this man. Like he didn’t belong in familiarity.

He moved over and raised the cover to let me in – I followed, then he turned off the lights.

At first the darkness was smothering me, but then he reached for me, pulling me into his embrace, making me the small spoon, and something in me eased.

I tried not to overthink it. I tried not to make this a bigger deal than it was. It was just sleep after all, this doesn’t mean anything. Everyone needs sleep. Sometimes we sleep next to people we’re not dating, and that’s normal.

All perfectly normal things.

He must have noticed how tense I was, as he whispered into my hair, “You alright?”

I nearly laughed, feeling hysterical from all the recent events, from how exhausted I was, from the bizarre situation. Instead I said, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Willing it to be true.

After a moment he spoke again, “I’m sorry if I wake you, I get nightmares.”

He must have been exhausted too, as shortly after he was clearly asleep, leaving me to watch as the sun slowly came up behind the curtains while he held me.

Thankfully slumber eventually took me as well.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 8 - The wolves are at my door

Chapter title is lyrics from "Empire”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Trust.

The cornerstone of so many things in this world. 

As children we trust our parents to do what is best for us, we vote for the political party we trust to achieve the best outcome, and every day we trust that the food we consume wont poison us.

That doesn’t mean our parents won’t traumatise the shit out of us, politicians don’t lie through their teeth, and we won't be puking our fucking brains out after eating the leftover pad thai.

Yet every daily decision – no matter how big or small – requires us to take a leap of faith in some regard.

For most people the majority of decisions are simple, right? The risk so meaningless we don’t even consider it. But to others, that same risk is a mountain. To these people trust is a rare and incredibly valuable commodity, not easily given or received. 

The problem is, these people may wish to test you in ways you may not expect – in ways that might make you uncomfortable, vulnerable, or push you to some internal limit.

Sounds harsh? Maybe. 

But if you’ve been burnt before, then maybe you too understand why this impulse creeps in like instinct, making it seem impossible to trust someone without testing them with precision.

Is this done with malicious intent? Absolutely not.

We just don’t know any other way.

***

I stared down into my drink, the air thick with the scent of perfume and alcohol.

The night's concert had gone just as expected, and so had all the preparations for it. I didn’t quite understand why me and Liam were invited to this party, since we weren’t actually working, but apparently Liam and whoever was assisting him at the time would always come along on these types of events. 

That assistant just happened to be me right now.

Liam had been chatting my ear off all day about whose house we were going to after the concert, but all I could remember was that it’s some famous rapper I had never heard of. I wanted to listen to Liam so badly, but my mind had been too preoccupied obsessing over the fact that I’d spent last night with Oli – just sleeping in his arms. And instead of waking up with him like a sane person, to potentially have some amazing sex, I slipped out unnoticed before I had a chance to see how the morning could’ve unfolded.

The truth is that while I felt a lot of guilt for not staying, last night had been so mentally taxing I couldn’t risk the conversation continuing in the morning light. 

Especially considering I hadn’t digested my brand new revelations about the man yet. 

Sadly a whole day of pondering, while desperately avoiding the culprit, hadn’t done much else besides make me more confused. 

Not made better by tonight's events.

We’d been here almost two hours, lazily nurturing our drinks on one of the many large sofas in the modern, open space mansion with a view. The party featured a large variety of famous people (or so I’ve been told) and what appeared to be models, graciously hosted by someone whose name begins with Lil – like so many rappers before him.

A handful of models had flocked to the band as soon as we walked through the door, despite clearly not knowing who they were. With one lady in particular that latched onto Oli like a leach as soon as she found out he was the lead singer. 

I’d been both lucky and unfortunate enough to end up within earshot of them on the sofa as she was trying to get to know him. Their conversation was simultaneously hilarious and made me want to scream in frustration; a long series of shallow questions asked with a vocal fry, and Oli replying by deepening his already thick Yorkshire accent to the point that she didn’t stand a chance of understanding a single answer – made apparent by her poorly timed fake laughter in response.

It was infuriating, yet I couldn’t help but find him charming for messing with her.

Despite clearly being mismatched, they kept inching closer to each other as time passed. More smiles were exchanged, more whispers – and why the fuck did she have to touch him so much? 

The long and short of it was; they were flirting. And apparently I didn’t like that one bit, as I couldn’t stop imagining ripping the extensions from her long, dark, Instagram-perfect hair.

Me and Liam were sitting across from them now, a large coffee table separating us. I could hear Liam drunkenly ramble on about his boyfriend back home, but I was hyper aware of what was happening across from us.

Oli was still in his concert clothes. Black trousers, a tight and colourful mesh shirt, with all the usual accessories. And she looked like she had spent a lot of money to look like she could be besties with Kim Kardashian. His hand was currently on her bare thigh, which she had placed there in order to roll up his sleeve and inspect his arm. I couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud music, but my best guess is that they were discussing his ink work.

I’d never considered myself a jealous person, but this was awakening some beast in me I didn’t like. It was some fresh flavour of torture I hadn’t really experienced before. Especially considering I didn’t even know what I wanted from Oli going forward. 

What made it worse was that he hadn’t looked at me all night. I know this, as I could barely keep my eyes off him, to the point that I was worried the rest of the band had noticed. And yes, I’m aware that I was the one to sneak out this morning, just like I was the one who had been avoiding him all day. And still this was stinging in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

To make matters worse I couldn’t tell if it was some form of punishment, or if it was his way of making it clear we were done.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear – again – but this time that same wicked smile he usually shows me slowly grew on his lips as she spoke. It was enough for me to rudely and abruptly stand up in the middle of Liams rant to excuse myself.

“I need the bathroom.” I said in a rush before quickly turning around and striding off.

But I didn’t go to the bathroom, instead I made a beeline for the bar across the massive room to mix myself something significantly stronger. 

As I was standing there, pouring entirely too much rum into my rum and coke, I felt a hand on my ass. I swung around in shock, only to be face to face with a tall, older man, possibly in his 50s, smiling down at me. The smile was so toothy I would’ve been creeped out even if he hadn’t used ‘grabbing my arse’ as a means of introduction. He must have been some investor or something, cause he didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the crowd.

“Hello beautiful, hope I didn’t scare you.” Somehow his smile grew more teeth as he spoke.

I was stuck behind the bar in a dark corner of the room with this gross man, plotting my escape, when Oli suddenly pushed past him.

“There you are, love. Thought I’d lost you there for a second.” He said as he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. A mixture of anger and relief hit me all at once from his gesture.

Oli shot the man a lazy smile, silently daring him to stick around.

It worked. The man wordlessly grabbed a bottle from the bar and stalked off to – more than likely – locate his next victim.

When he was gone I tried to slip out from under Oli’s arm, not in any mood to talk to him after seeing him flirt with someone else, but he grabbed me by the hips and turned me towards him, “Slow down, Alice. What’s the rush?”

I swatted his hands off of me, “Oh please, go back to your whore.” I bit out, regretting the words instantly, knowing it showed exactly how jealous I was.

He didn’t put his hands back on me, but he took a step closer, “You’re on about that vapid bird back there?” He shook his head, “Fuck off.” He took another step, stalking me similarly to what he did in the hotel last night. Except this time I only had to take one step backwards and I was pressed up against the bar behind me.

He leaned in a bit closer, still not touching me, so I’d hear him over the music as he spoke softer, “Besides, you’re my whore, Alice.” I looked up at him, he was entirely too pleased with himself. A devil's smile grew on his features as his eyes fell to my lips. The anger inside me was mixing with arousal despite my best efforts to stop it, and the implication of the word ‘my’ had not gone unnoticed, further spiralling my confusion as I had both hated and loved it.

“Then why are you flirting with her?” I asked, trying to keep my tone cool.

“I wasn’t, she was flirting with me. Why did you slip out this morning?”

“As if you didn’t love every moment of it.” I retorted, completely ignoring his question.

“Did I now?” He asked, words dripping with sarcasm, before continuing in a more serious tone, “Or did I enjoy watching you squirm?”

He took one last step to press himself up against me, his hand slipping to the small of my back.

“You’re a fucking prick, Oli.” I said, feeling utterly betrayed by my own body. I was furious, and while my words reflected that, my tone told a very different story, conveying exactly how horny I was becoming. 

From his sudden change in demeanour, he could tell what he was doing to me. His eyes darkened before he grabbed me by the hips again to turn me around to face away from him, out towards the room. While they were far away, I could see Liam and the others through the crowd. Which meant that if they decided to look in our direction, they’d be able to see us as well.

I swallowed.

With a gentle gesture he swept the hair away from my shoulder to place his lips there, lazily kissing as his hands roamed my hips and waist. I gasped. His thick locks were tickling my face as his mouth moved along my neck, sending me into sensory overdrive.

“If you were gonna sneak out like that, why did you even bother spending the night?” He said between kisses.

Avoiding his question again, entirely out of spite, “Stop it, they might see us.” Such flustered words.

“You reckon?” He asked with more sarcasm.

I wanted to push away, stop what we were doing. I was angry, made worse by the fact that he was being this reckless with the others finding out about us – despite me having told him I wanted to keep it quiet. But his actions promised so much delight, and my body didn’t want to fight any of it. 

“Why don’t you care if they see?” My tone was so painfully desperate, I couldn’t stand it.

His lips moved to my ear, “If we continue doing this, Alice, they’ll find out sooner or later anyway. It’s all the same to me.” He pulled away slightly and ran his fingers down the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, “I love these marks on you, it’s like you’re my canvas.” He said with words full of wonder. 

Of course his kisses had rubbed off my concealer – the only thing besides my hair hiding his bite marks on me. 

Then his teeth were on my shoulder, a bit lower than his previous marks, pushing down hard enough to make me clutch the edge of the bar as his fingers dug into my hips, holding me closer. He pulled away, his lips grazing my sore skin, “I just want to cover you, love.” He said in a low tone, barely audible over the music.

“Please, can we do this somewhere else?” So, so desperate. I hated myself. I shouldn’t be considering going anywhere with him. I should storm off and not let myself be treated like this. He was just cosying up with someone else for fuck sake – what the hell am I doing?

But my body was winning, it needed him. 

I needed him.

“Do what?” He asked, clearly knowing what I was talking about – clearly not done playing with me here.

He began pulling the hem of my dress up. I ripped my vision away from guarding against the band members looking our way, and nervously darted my eyes around to see if anyone could see what he was doing behind the cover of the bar. Thankfully no one seemed to notice, or at least not pay us any attention.

“Oli, please…” My words continued in the same desperate tone, making it unclear whether I was begging him to continue, or stop.

The offending hand slipped under my dress and grazed my pussy ever so slightly, threatening to make my knees buckle. 

But suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, pulled away and turned me back around in one jarring motion. A serious stare looking down at me, “You’re wearing underwear.” 

He proceeded to stare at me as I tried to collect myself from the abrupt interruption. When I didn’t answer he continued, “Why?”

I had contemplated not wearing any tonight, but considering I planned to avoid him until I had dealt with my internal confusion, it had seemed pointless.

I shook myself, the break from the intoxicating touches sobering me up and I began feeling the anger in full force again. 

“You’re gonna question why I’m wearing underwear? Seriously fuck you, Oli. Why are you trying to make me jealous? I stayed the night didn’t I? Just cause I wasn’t there when you woke up shouldn’t undo that, or justify whatever the hell it is you’re doing tonight. What’s your fucking problem?”

He clearly wasn’t expecting my sudden outburst, and neither had the people around us as some of them were now looking in our direction. 

Several emotions flickered across his face before he stepped to the side and leaned on the bar next to me, waiting for the people around us to forget about us before he spoke, “You’re not the only one who’s scared, Alice.”

The anger was still simmering under the surface, but was dulled from his honest answer.

He looked down before looking back at me with a sly smile, “In my defence, you’re fucking hot when you’re jealous.”

My frown deepened as the anger threatened to boil over again.

Nope, I was done. 

I started to walk away but he grabbed me by the wrist to yank me back in front of him. “Wait, Alice. Fuck… Alright, I’m sorry.” He said, vulnerable eyes meeting mine.

The grip on my wrist loosened, testing if I would leave if he let go. 

I just glared at him wordlessly, contemplating what to do next. Meanwhile somewhere in the back of my mind I was hoping he’d convince me to stay. 

When I didn’t walk away he took my hands in his instead.

I let him.

“You should’ve stuck around this morning. We could’ve had a nice time, you know.” A sad yet playful smile tugging on his lips, his thumbs mindlessly brushed my fingers.

Despite having been a dipshit, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, causing something inside me to relax. Whatever anger melted away was replaced by guilt for not having stayed this morning. While I didn’t know how much it meant to him, I knew it had meant something. It was the only way I could even begin to explain his behaviour tonight.

In an attempt to set things right for now – partially because of the alcohol in my system – I interlaced our fingers. He looked down at what I was doing, and when his eyes came back to meet mine they were softer, less sadness resting behind them.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Oli.” Honest words, I was clueless. I had no idea what I wanted, and I needed time to figure it out.

He laughed, “I’ve got no clue what I’m doing either, love.”

We stood like that for a moment before he looked behind him at the band members across the room, then back at me, “How about we go find somewhere they can’t see us?” He said, then pulled me in closer to speak against my ear, “Let me fly you closer to the sun.”

Excitement spread through me as he echoed my words from last night.

He pulled away to search my face for answers.

I knew I couldn’t resist. It didn’t matter what I felt, I was tipsy, exhausted and I knew what he was offering would replenish something in me that felt depleted.

A smile grew on my features, “Okay. Let’s go.”

He smiled back at me, eyes gleaming with mischief, “Before we go, can you do me a favour?”

“What?” I asked, feeling a bit apprehensive. 

His expression darkened, “Take off your underwear.”

I shifted nervously, “...Here?”

He lazily leaned back against the bar, looking at me through heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for me to fulfil his request. My heart began to race, and the smile was tugging on his lips again as I was assessing the surroundings, anxiously looking around to see if anyone would notice. 

No one was looking at us anymore as far as I could tell.

With equal parts excitement and anxiety, I decided to go with it, trusting that he would fulfil his end of the bargain.

I took a deep breath and began to shimmy out of my underwear as inconspicuously as I possibly could, knowing that if anyone were to look they’d still know exactly what I was doing. Especially once they slid down to my ankles, and I had to bend over to retrieve them.

His eyes appeared glazed over as he held out his hand, expecting me to hand them over. I balled up the black lace in my hands to make it less obvious what I was handing him, and placed them in his open palm. They quickly disappeared into his pocket, then he immediately took my hand to sweep me away through the crowd. 

He guided me up some stairs and we sprinted down a long hallway before he began opening doors to find a room he was satisfied with. “Perfect.” He said under his breath as he led us into one of them and shut the door behind us.

It was a fairly simple room considering the size of the mansion. A queen sized bed facing large glass doors, leading out to a small glass framed balcony looking out over an empty garden. 

It must be a guest room. 

He didn’t bother turning on the lights as all the lanterns from the garden below lit the room fairly well.

He pulled me up to the glass doors and pressed me up against them. The glass was icey against my back, but was quickly forgotten when his hand slipped to my nape, angling me for a deep kiss. The confusing sense of safety washed over me when I was flooded with his scent, easing something in me, despite knowing he intended to take me somewhere dangerous tonight. His other hand guided mine to the hardness straining awkwardly against the stiff fabric of his trousers, forcing me to grab it. His lips left mine with an exhale, staring down at me through messy hair with wet parted lips, panting. “It’s fucking gagging for it. I haven’t cum since I came in you – and it doesn’t help when you keep running away.” As he spoke the last words he made me squeeze it, and I felt it tense through the fabric – my breath hitched in response.

“It was torture not fucking you last night, but I thought it’d be worth it with everything I had planned to do to you this morning.” His voice deepened, laced with frustration and sarcasm, “But you weren’t there this morning, were you?”

Regret sank in, and I was about to open my mouth to explain myself, when the hand holding my nape was suddenly at my throat, pressing me up against the glass so hard I couldn’t breathe. His gaze turned vicious as he held me there, “You’re not running away tonight.”

Adrenaline filled my veins. I tried not to be scared but I hadn’t quite seen that look in his eyes prior. Or at least not to this degree.

Letting go of the hand holding me to his cock, he slipped between my legs instead. He didn’t bother feeling me or taking his time, instead his fingers pushed into me without warning, causing my knees to go weak, forcing me to grab at his arms. His vicious gaze melted and glazed over, staring into my eyes as he played with me, still not letting me breathe.

Then something in me shifted as he watched me, the rush of having my safety in someone else's hands, flooding me with some inexplicably unmatched sense of fulfilment. Suddenly everything felt right with the world, like this was somehow the one thing I had been missing. Sadly the rush didn’t last long enough, as I was becoming more and more desperate for air – something he hadn’t really let me experience before. He studied me closely, testing how long he could keep me suspended like this. My nails began to sink into his arms to let him know it was enough. Too much.

His eyes glazed further, letting his fingers travel deeper into me, grinding his hips against my thigh, “Bit more, love. You can do it.” His words were barely a whisper over the distant bass line from downstairs.

Another rush hit me, a mix of panic and ecstasy that threatened to scramble my brain. I only felt it for a split second before he let go in one quick violent motion. I slumped onto him, coughing as he held me against his chest with the hand that had just choked me for too long.

After a moment or two of letting me catch my breath, he leaned me back against the glass. There were hints of worry in his eyes when they met mine.

“Too much?” He asked tenderly, shaking the hair out of his face.

I stared at him, and for some reason I didn’t want him to know it was too much, as if it would prove some point in his favour. “No.” I replied in a horse tone. Knowing it could be a mistake to push my luck like this.

He held my gaze a bit longer, not looking convinced, before he slipped his fingers out of me. I gasped at the sudden shift inside me.

“We’ll see about that.” He brought the glistening fingers up to my face, “Now open up.” He said, his gaze falling to my mouth.

As soon as I parted my lips the warm and slick fingers pushed into my mouth, causing his own lips to part in delight. Knowing what he wanted, I sucked on them eagerly for him.

“Such a good whore.” He murmured, before pulling his fingers out and pressing his mouth to mine, moaning into me with another deep kiss, his hand grabbing me, digging into me. He pulled away to lean himself against my forehead. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

One of his hands disappeared, and when he leaned back he was dangling my black lace underwear between his forefinger and middle finger, the mischief back in his eyes, “Open your mouth again for me.”

Realisation hit me, but I wasn’t going to deny him this, so I gingerly opened my mouth.

“Wider.” He bit out.

I snapped my mouth open, bringing the smile back to his lips. As he was taking his sweet time stuffing my own underwear into my mouth, I was struck by how surreal the moment was. I didn’t know whether I should be wondering if I had gone wrong somewhere, or if I should count my lucky stars to be experiencing this.

I don’t know if it was my aroused state or the alcohol, but the latter was winning by miles.

When he was happy with his work, he placed a knuckle under my chin and pushed up to close my mouth – leaving only a small piece of lace spilling out of my mouth, tickling my chin.

“No more underwear, yeah?” He said sweetly, nodding towards me – a clear indication that I should nod back, so I did.

He took a couple steps back and started unbuckling his belt. The shadow of my own silhouette shrouding his legs, the rest of him washed in a warm glow from the garden lights below us. He looked like a hungry animal prowling in the night, his eyes barely visible through the tufts of hair covering them, sparkling as the light hit them just right. 

All his muscles moved beneath his tight shirt as he pulled the belt off in one smooth motion and folded it in half.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, knowing what was about to happen.

“On the bed.” He sounded serious, focused.

Steadying myself, I pushed off the glass and started crawling onto the bed. As soon as I got on all fours at the end of the bed, he grabbed me by the hips to stop me.

“Right there.” He murmured, before placing a hand on my head to push me down onto the bed. Leaving me face down, ass up, clutching the sheets, with my underwear dangling from my lips.

“Stay just like that.” 

I felt so incredibly vulnerable and anxious, yet my pussy wouldn’t stop pulsing in anticipation. Every nerve in my body was on edge, not knowing when to expect the pain.

A hand appeared on the back of my thigh, the unexpected gentle touch making me flinch.

“You sit there, watching me with someone else – for hours.”

The hand followed my curves upwards, pushing my dress up, revealing the bare skin of my behind to him.

His voice darkened significantly, “I see you chat with a fucking twat for a split second and I want to set the whole world on fire.” 

Despite knowing it would happen, the sudden loud whipping sound accompanied by the sharp searing pain was a complete shock. I shot up onto all fours with a muffled cry.

But as soon as I shot up, he immediately pushed me right back down – as if he had expected me to react the way I did.

He continued, “And you, love…” Such a sweet tone, before turning sinister, “How you stand me chattin’ with some other bird for that long, I haven’t a fucking clue.”

Another loud whip, on my other cheek this time. I fought the instinct to shoot back up, instead biting down hard on the fabric in my mouth, balling my fists into the sheets.

He made a pained noise behind me. I couldn’t tell if it was out of enjoyment, or if this was somehow torturing himself as well. Or maybe – much like for myself – a mixture of both.

An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me up against the warm body behind me. I made a muffled yelping noise and grabbed at his arm to steady myself. I could feel his heavy breaths on the bite mark he left on my shoulder downstairs. Then his hands were on me, his touches turning more tender, passionate. His fingers reached my pussy and he began touching me for my pleasure, instead of the previous punishment. I felt myself relaxing against him, reaching up and back to push my fingers into his hair, guiding his mouth to the bitemarks. He ground his hips into me with a moan as he placed his mouth over them. I whimpered through the fabric in my mouth in response, both in pain from the stinging sensation on multiple locations on my sore body, as well as in pleasure. The gentler touches had turned into a form of ecstasy as I was coming down from the intense pain, panic, and fear. I felt like I had unlocked another type of high – another addiction I wasn’t sure I wanted to be without anymore. 

His kisses moved up my neck, leaving gentle bites as he went, both of us grabbing desperately for each other.

When he reached my ear he spoke harsh words, in an almost disturbingly soft tone, “What’s your fucking limit, Alice?” Causing me to tense up in anticipation all over again as the intimate touches ground to a halt.

He reached for the belt, looping it around my neck as if it was a slip lead. When it was loosely placed around my neck, he let go of it and pushed me forward, making me fall onto all fours again. 

My heart was racing, the fear from not being able to breathe earlier returning, making me wonder if I should speak up before he would decide to pull on it. Yet the bass line from downstairs sounded more and more like the steady beat of war drums, resonating with something deep inside me that wanted nothing more than to travel deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole he had led us down.

I was staring down at the dark belt curling in on itself against the light sheets, feeling the fear melt into a deep hunger when I heard him unzip his trousers behind me, and excitement made a grin spread over my lace filled mouth.

I felt something warm push at my entrance, and it was all it took to set my whole body on fire. I wanted to feel him inside me again so badly I began to tremble as I fought off the urge to push back against him.

I heard a low laugh behind me; he must have noticed my desperation. He grabbed my hip to keep me in place, before he began rubbing his tip up and down my slick folds, eliciting the most delectable sounds from him. I felt like I was going mad. I kept trying to move against him – to get him inside me – but his hand just dug deeper into my hip. The sounds spilling out of me growing more desperate by the moment.

His words came low and pained, “Fuck. Am I teasing you or me?” Then he finally pulled me towards him, burying himself to the hilt.

My arms gave out and I fell face first onto the mattress, clawing at the sheets. Only his desperate grip on my hips keeping me in place. His breathing came ragged as he tensed inside me, holding me there. I moaned, biting down on the underwear for dear life, knowing I’d get my mind blown once he actually started moving.

It didn’t matter that I knew it was coming, I wasn’t ready for it. My eyes rolled back as I tried to ride the waves of motion.

Only a short moment passed before he muttered, “Fuck”, low and guttural, only to come to a full stop. A hand appeared next to my face to grab the belt looped around my neck, gently yanking on it, “Back on all fours, love.” His words were shaky, you could tell he was fighting his own climax. Made more obvious by how much I could feel him throb inside me. I should have been disappointed it wouldn’t last long, but all it did was fan the flames of the fire inside me, turning it into an inferno – leaving me intoxicated with lust.

I pushed myself back up, my own arms as shaky as his voice. I could see his shadow painted on the wall in front of me, his head slumped forward, chest heaving. When he started moving inside me again his head fell back, the ragged breaths coming faster, heavier. My heart beating steadily between my legs, my teeth clenching, my fists balling as I used all my energy to stay in place while I felt like my brain was about to explode.

His head snapped back up and he began pounding me faster, making a sound akin to a growl. He yanked on the make-shift leash, choking me for a second as it pulled me up against him, then the movements came to a sudden stop. 

“I should’ve fucking cum without you this morning, I can’t do this much longer.” He said through clenched teeth, a mixture of frustration and anger dripping from his words. 

Once again I felt him tense inside me, and I couldn’t help it, it was too tempting; I moved my hips on him, causing him to whimper and hold me tighter to prevent further movement.

“None of that.” His words were breathy and distant, clearly too busy focusing on not coming just yet. A grin bloomed on my face, feeling high as a kite from all the extreme sensations I’ve experienced tonight. 

Since I wasn’t able to move my hips – and despite my better judgement – I tensed my pussy instead. His grip on me tightened further, turning painful with his nails digging into me, another low and pained noise escaping him as he buried his face in my neck.

“You’ll regret that.” He spoke against my skin before pushing me forward, yanking the belt harder – not quite stopping my breathing, but hard enough to make me grab for it out of pain. I fumbled to steady myself as he suddenly let go of the belt to grab my hips, pounding me hard and fast – just for a moment – before he pulled out. He let go of me, and I slumped forward onto the bed, feeling empty and shaky.

“Come here, down on your knees.” His words were low and pained.

Regardless of my state, I hurried to do as he said, knowing he was close.

As soon as I got on my knees he shoved his hand into my hair to guide my face close to his cock. It was so beautifully veiny and slick from my own juices, bobbing slightly from the edging. 

“Open your mouth.” He bit out, in an oh-so-delightfully desperate tone.

I snapped it open and looked up at him. He appeared possessed, completely taken over by lust. His lips were as glossy as his eyes as he stared down at me. 

Hurriedly, he pulled the underwear out of my mouth, then grabbed his cock to stroke it as he spoke, “I can’t tell you how tempting it is to cum all over you, love – show everyone downstairs you’re my whore.” His voice was deeper as he got closer to the edge.

My nerves crept back at his words, my eyes darted between the cock in his hand and his dark, glassy, eyes.

“I can’t imagine a more beautiful image.” With each word his tone fell deeper still, turning it nearly demonic. Every stroke came longer, slower – with more intent.

“Suck it.” Barely a whisper. He guided my head onto it with a moan, and as soon as my lips closed around his length I felt the cum spilling onto my tongue. The fist in my hair pushing and pulling me the way he wanted, my mouth filling up more and more with every movement. So many sounds spilling out of him as he trembled, making my eyes fall shut; making me moan in response – making me not want to swallow, so I could keep feeling exactly like this for longer.

When he was done he pulled out of my mouth, and fell to his knees in front of me.

Bliss was on his features; tired eyes, flushed face, a lazy wicked grin, with his still hard cock pressing up against his shirt as he was leaning forwards slightly. I could feel my own features mirroring his bliss as I took in the sight of him. 

I wanted so badly to take a mental screenshot and keep it forever.

The lazy smile on his lips grew as he was staring at my mouth. He gently grabbed my chin, realising I was still holding his cum in there.

With a soft laugh he said, “Go on, swallow.”

Reluctantly, I did as he said, feeling the warm liquid run down my throat.

He scanned my face with wonder in his eyes, “Good girl.”

... Continue reading on Ao3

[skylermadness]

Clouded Judgement (Vander TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: July 27, 2023)

Original Description:

I watched Arcane for the first time last week. Probably one of my favorite experiences in regards to media watching! So much happens in that show and it's just so satisfying to watch from so many angles, it's just hard to articulate perfectly how good it is. Inevitably this also meant Vander would become a mood for me. Big hairy dad with an Australian accent, that's basically the best bait one could have for me. Also meant that during my high of Arcane fixation I had to write a TF as soon as possible. Also helps that Furii threw in some interesting ideas I wanted to try and write out! Admittedly this is a TF that involves a first time for a lot of things in regards to my writing. Lots of moving parts in the TF segment and I believe this is my first time in full having some kind of gaseous trigger. Unfortunately I think I ran out of ideas as to how to really handle the concept towards the end, since I realize I actually wasn't fully sure how I wanted to do the MC and what I wanted to do for the actual post-TF segment. So in the end I do feel like the mental aspects fall a bit short and things definitely fizzle out towards the end. I feel like I could've done better with the final scenes but in the end this story was written with no outline and very little direction. Plus I can always revisit it later and fix it. But for the time being I'm at least 90% satisfied with the end result enough to share it out. Plus I am relatively proud of the TF segment itself. Anyway, watch Arcane.

   Flames. Smoke. Oranges and grays… light was shrouded behind the thickening smoke.

   That's all his hazy, blurry vision can see. He can't even tell if he's looking up, down, or to the sides. Is something overhead? And… wasn't he supposed to be doing something… 

   There is a certain level of pain coursing through him as well. Multiple sharp pierces in his back like shards of glass had embedded into his skin. His spine felt bent, and his nervous system felt like it was in a numb overdrive. An even sharper, stronger pain was in his abdomen; stabbing into his gut and radiating the pain throughout the region. All the while he could feel more spots of suffering around his face than he could count. Then there was the setting in of fatigue, a feeling akin to getting off some kind of adrenaline rush.

   The smell of smoke mixed with the smell of his own blood. He could taste his blood too, and he could swear some more of it was crawling its way both up and down his throat.

   Where was he? Who was he? What was he doing?

   A sense of urgency panged in his chest. Like he had to do something. He had to move faster, he had to…

   A finger twitched, he moved his arm closer to something. He could detect something cylindrical near his hand. He had to grab it, it was his only chance.

   A low grunt emanated from his throat as he swallowed a lump of fluid. Pain, urgency, danger. Pain, urgency, danger. The same three feelings circling through his mind, his body, his everything. 

   His finger grazed metal and glass. Something seems to enter him from there. Some kind of final rush that starts his heart back up again. The hand grasped onto the cylinder and the man almost instantly pulled it towards his mouth. He wasn't sure when or how he had opened it, but all the movements were so fast that it felt like he had instantly started consuming whatever fluid was in the object.

   He wanted to regurgitate it. The taste was atrocious, the feeling of it oozing down his throat was repulsive.

   But it all passed as in an instant everything in his body ran into overdrive.

   His heart beat faster, faster, faster, the rate was getting inhuman. He could feel his muscles cramping, bulging outwards, a chorus of rips piercing from his shirt as his body was forced larger and larger. Breathing deepened, low and dying becoming rampant and growling. Monstrous.

   A purple glow rushed through his veins, running higher and higher up his body before it reached his face. The last sound he heard is metal and glass crunching in his hand as his eyes were forced open.

   His eyes were forced open…

   His eyes were…

   …forced open.

   Ashton groaned, body leaning forward in his bus seat while he rubbed his head. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to dispel the grogginess in them while taking in just where he was. Window beside him, sparse amounts of people in seats in front and behind him. Bus, evening, getting home from work…

   He sighed. "Shit, I missed my stop didn't I…"

   Eyes trailed upwards to look at the street display board, an act which only reaffirmed that statement. He was roughly seven or eight stops behind where he was supposed to get off to get home. Disappointed, he pulls the cord on the wall beside him which causes a soft ding to play out before an automated voice says, "Stop requested!"

   He then hauled up the satchel that sat beside him and stood up, walking his way towards the front of the bus so he could get off. All the while he had two thoughts in his mind. The first thought was that of plans to try to get home in a timely manner. Bus lines were rotating around his mind as he tried to come to some kind of conclusion as to what to take and where. 

   The other thought was of that dream he just awoke from. Of the visceral, realistic feelings it spurred. Of the strangeness of it. Of the meaning behind it. Why did he get it? What did it signify? Why did it feel so real? He could still smell the smoke. Taste the blood.

   "It's not real…" he muttered to himself as he turned to walk off the now stopped bus.

   The sky was a mix of a calming blue and burning orange, Ashton flinching slightly as it entered his peripherals. He chose to ignore it though, preferring to get a good look at the surroundings of this bus stop. The street was noticeably divided. One set of towering buildings and streets was on the side Ashton was on; meanwhile the opposing side had a different set, only reachable if you tried to hop into the rounded drainage ditch that cleaved the area in half. Or you could just walk over the bridge that was off to the side.

   He hummed to himself. He'd have to cross the bridge in order to reach the bus stop that would allow him to ride in the opposing direction back home, but that would be annoying since the stops in that direction are different from the stops going forward. He could also try to just walk home since he was only six or seven stops off, but the city's above ground infrastructure was annoying to traverse to say the least.

   He eyed the ends of the street for a few seconds, then crossed it to reach the sidewalk on the other side. It was evidently railed off thanks to the existence of the drainage ditch, but that didn't stop him from casually leaning over the railing to look into it. With the exception of a pitifully miniscule stream of water in the middle of it, the ditch was effectively void of liquid. His eyes trailed towards the two massive holes that were beneath the bridge nearby, the man casually thinking about how the sewer system the ditch drained into was barren as well.

   Come to think of it, there was a similar ditch near his apartment.

   Ashton's eyes widened as an idea formed in his head that instance. The city's sewer system likely wasn't the most convoluted network. It would probably be a simple walk in, take a right turn, walk out. The biggest problem would probably be the lighting, but…

   He fished his phone out of his back pocket. Twenty five percent. It was probably not enough for a sewer trek, but he assured himself he'd only be in there for ten minutes. It'd be fine… 

   …

   His reassurances didn't really work and he could tell this was a risky idea. But sometimes your city's infrastructure makes roaming around the sewer sound more appealing than actually walking around the surface.

   He idly thought to himself 'What's the worst that'd happen?' as he jumped the railing and slid into the drainage ditch. Even then he was only mildly confident in this idea as a whole…

                                        ----------------------------------------------------------

   Ten percent.

   If Ashton's presumptions were correct he might've been down here for thirty minutes. He could've sworn he wasn't lost, especially since he only took a single right turn towards what he would presume to be the drainage system closest to his apartment. And yet he felt like he was walking down the exact same tunnel for ages.

   The tunnel also looked nothing like he would have presumed one to look. It was just a concrete cylinder with a few pipes lining the sides and ceilings. Every so often he'd find himself walking past a large grated opening, although he wasn't sure if it was the same pipe every time or just a different one on the exact same side. At the very least this place wasn't completely flooded…

   His steps continued to echo through the tunnel as he walked. His shoes have garnered a substantial amount of grime as they stepped in the extremely small stream that endlessly trailed down the pipe. And evidently the only source of light he had was from his phone. At the very least nothing could come up from in front of him, especially with the intense luminescence of his flashlight.

   Nine percent.

   "Perhaps it's not too late to walk back," he grumbled to himself. Now he was realizing just how stupid an idea this was. He probably would be home by now had he not taken this 'shortcut'. "Stupid, stupid, stupid-"

   His annoyed sighs echo through the tunnel as well. At least the smell wasn't as repugnant as he would have expected, but it was still pretty terrible. And he was still alone. Just him, the dark, and his thoughts. He then stopped for a moment to lean onto the rounded concrete wall of the tunnel. Walking for so long non-stop was doing a number on his legs. 

   He considered just calling an emergency service before his phone could have the chance to conk out. It would be embarrassing to have to explain that he got himself lost in the city's drainage tunnels, but it also beats being stuck here for days on end. And… "Urgh, is the smell getting worse…?"

   Just the faint smell of sewage fluid and… smoke?

   "Wha…?" he raised his phone up and looked around both ends of the tunnel. Lo and behold in the direction he was heading towards was a small plume of smoke billowing from another tunnel that seemed to connect to the one he was in. It was faint, almost blending in with the darkness, yet it still stood out against the shine of his phone's flashlight.

   There was also no light emanating from the smoking tunnel.

   Against his better judgment Ashton quickly rushed towards the tunnel opening. Shining the light into the tunnel all he found was the same concrete walls, except with a small stream of smoke at the ceiling. The tunnel's end still had the void of darkness as well …

   …it couldn't be like that dream, can it?

   He took a step forward, and another.

   It couldn't have. There was evidently a fire in it.

   Another step, and another.

   Glass. Pain. He didn't even feel like himself in it. It felt like visions or the memories of someone else.

   His steps continued to echo again as he followed the small stream of smoke. Although it wasn't long until the slightness of it was changing and the stream steadily got thicker the more he pressed forward.

   The smoke of a flame was different. Pungent, disgusting, awful. In truth, this smoke smelled vile as well. But it wasn't the same as fires. It was reminiscent of something else.

   And yet his fear couldn't easily be quashed by such a notion. So much unfamiliarity, so much strangeness. It was evident nothing was right. And yet, Ashton remained curious.

   But was it true curiosity, or was it a compulsion…?

   It didn't seem to matter. The stream grew thicker, and the light began to reach a wall that only scattered and obscured it. The source of the smoke, he had presumed. And he still continued to step forward.

   He wants to investigate further.

   In an instant the smoke consumed him. He's surrounded in it, the dense grays and blacks layering around and onto him. His eyelids flicker as he tries to blink it out his eyes, and he can't stop himself from inhaling it. Strangely though, he doesn't cough. The smoke entering his body seems to get absorbed into it once it reaches his lungs. Almost as if it was becoming a part of him. This only caused his brain to grow foggy.

   The haze entering his mind caused him to steadily lower his hand, the light from the phone slowly moving further and further down. After a few seconds the light would be snuffed out, darkness falling into the entirety of the tunnel. The last tangible sound he hears is the echo that emanated from his phone hitting the concrete floor of the tunnel. Everything enters a pitch black haze after that, and Ashton was left unaware of just what the smoke was doing to him.

   In the dark there was a subtle slight swirling of smoke that seemed to spiral around his hands and arms. Dense dark vapors circled around both limbs, the constant whirling forcing changes in the areas that he had been left unaware of. The first was that in his hands, the smoke seeming to practically massage them both and force their size larger. Stretching them out more both horizontally, vertically, steadily growing with each passing second. At the same time there was a thickness settling into them, a sizable bulk being compounded as the muscle and bone within them was getting beefier.

   There was a concurrent set of alterations that was settling into each finger of his hands as well. At first they were thin and narrow, but with the increase in volume that was settling into Ashton’s hands it was causing them to get thicker as well. Meatiness being forced into each finger; density getting more pronounced and replacing their original thinness. Lengthening and thickening, getting all chunky. Almost powerful in a way. The tips of each finger seemed to blunt too, nails garnering a duller end as the man's hands garnered a more brutish appearance.

   That supposed brutish appearance was only enhanced as the constant flow of smoke added another layer to all the changes. A slight darkness was etched into his skin, the softness of both the front and back of his hands getting altered as a layering of aging was accumulating across them. Backs of each hand getting more weathered, dirty, scarred. A slight hardness formed across sections of his palms at the same time, the beginnings of calluses forming in the area above the dorsal transverse.

   The aging had also already quickly reached his arms, easily being accompanied by a slight layering of hair steadily sprouting down the back of each of them. Beneath it all came the bulking that had transitioned beyond his wrists and onto his forearms. A certain level of thickness etched into his lower arms, flexors and extensors both growing in tandem as the muscularity of the regions was getting further emphasized well beyond what they used to be. All a hard layer of strength, a heavy sturdiness constantly getting compounded as the muscles continued growing in size.

   His upper arms weren’t left behind as they too gained a drastic increase in musculature. By now the transformation had already reached beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, but that didn’t allow them to be beyond the reach of the swirling fog that continued to fill his body with rapidly manifesting strength. Biceps getting bulkier, triceps ever increasing alongside them concurrently. It wouldn’t take very long for the creases that divided his muscles to begin to etch into the fabric of his sleeves. This happened more and more as time went on and more muscles bloated; deltoids swelling outwards while his shoulders broadened and increased in size. 

   At this point the small wisps of smoke had been getting more plentiful in their constant swirling around Ashton,small drags seemingly now starting to circle the man’s torso. Although by now everything had just gone numb for the man. He couldn’t tell if he was walking or standing still, he couldn’t hear and he definitely couldn’t see beneath the dense haze of eigengrau that had now consumed his vision. The ability to think was being greatly hindered at this point as well. It was almost like the smoke had clogged up his brain, dense and dazing him out.

   All he could really feel was… warmth. A warmth entering his arms, a warm in his chest. It was starting to make him sweat a bit. He let out a grunt, the sound falling onto deaf ears as he raised one of his massive hands up to his chest. His very core was heating up, and there was an odd feeling of squeezing in his upper torso. Everything was starting to just feel… tight. Evidently that may be in part because of the swelling his chest was beginning to undergo. The influence of the smoke evidently had moved to that area now, prompting the muscles in the region to steadily push forward.

   A crease had started to form in the middle of his shirt, subtle at first but slowly growing as his chest only continued to grow out more. Both pectorals were swelling, thickening in size more with each second that passed. The collar of his shirt got tighter as well as his body was forced wider, the size of it stretching larger and wider. As heat continued to bombard the internals of his pecs, meat amassing more and more, a small layer of fat was accrued in the area at the same time. This was accompanied by a dusting of chest hair forming, coarse in texture and brown in coloration. It also wouldn't be long until that light dusting got increasingly thicker in density as well.

   The hairs then started to trail down the man's midline, creeping downwards towards his navel at a steady pace. As it dusted across the skin of his abdomen, a churning emerged from within it as well. The region rippled, muscles bubbling and hardening as that area followed in the sudden garnering of muscularity. Abs slowly rising up from the once flat area, slotting outwards row by row until he was graced with a six pack. This new musculature would almost instantly begin to indent itself into his shirt, the tightness of it perfectly outlining his new form. 

   However this would be followed by a softness entering the area, the newly formed muscles quickly getting consumed by fat that accumulated rapidly. It wasn't an enormous amount of fat though, only garnering enough to smooth out the abdominal region by a small margin and give his muscles a softer appearance, but still would keep them visible.

   By now Ashton's breathing was quickening, causing the smoke to get inhaled into his lungs at a more rapid pace. Was it getting… familiar? Ugh, it was hard to tell. Hard to think. He just wanted to…

   While one hand was grabbing onto his chest, his other hand had started to grab at the neck of his shirt. He idly tugged on it in an attempt to relieve the tightness to any degree. His shirt had already seemed to be undersized, with his chest squeezing against the fabric of it to a point that his now deep cleavage was indented into the material. The bulky, meaty shelf that consisted of his two pecs constantly pushing at the front of the shirt, and his wider frame tugging at the sides. There was an almost primal urge amassing in his mind to just rip it apart. An urge that was getting more persistent with time, more annoying.

   He continued to tug at the neck of his shirt, and by now he had gone to grab at the portion that laid on his chest. The big, meaty fingers were gripping into the fabric more and more. The urge to rip it apart growing stronger and strong until-

   Shrrp!

   His shirt was partially torn down the middle. His massive pecs were finally allowed to breathe, and the smoke grazed his skin properly. Aging it more, causing more hairs to sprout upon it with bits of gray beginning to speckle it. He was breathing heavily with both his mouth and his nose, the smell and taste of the vapor assaulting his sense of taste and smell at the exact same time. But he didn't seem to care much about that.

   A hand loosened its grip on the fragment of torn clothing before ultimately disregarding it, letting the tattered remains just loosely hang off his torso. The hand just drifted back onto his chest instead. Drifted and… squeezed. Hard. For a moment his face tensed, teeth grinding together as the hand embraced the pectoral. But everything softened as he felt just how… squishy it was. How pleasurable it was just groping his own chest like this. Rubbing the hand around the pec, grazing a nipple, feeling the hairs beneath the palm of his hand. The warmth, the softness, the almost arousing feeling it gave him to commit such an act.

   The only way he could describe his mind now would be… melting? Thoughts vanished beneath the haze that perpetuated around his brain. All he could feel was emotions from his own acts. And yet everything still felt dulled. It didn't really feel like he existed in this space despite the smoke seeming to interact with him. Spiral around him, bombard him. All he could really determine was his own sense of self, which in and of itself felt shrouded. 

   He failed to stifle a moan from exiting his mouth as he continued to grope his chest. He could at least feel himself. The sweat slowly moving down his face and body, the low heat constantly erupting in his form. The constant pressing of his hand against his skin, the feeling of the smoke rolling across his form. 

   His throat itched. It might've been from the smoke, it could've easily been from something else. If Ashton still had enough consciousness to hear what's around him, he'd probably hear his breathing begin to deepen. The pitch and tone lowering more and more as he was feeling himself up. A husky gravelliness etching into it as the constant breathing of smoke seemed to slowly age his own voice. All the while his neck was thickening, head steadily growing alongside it.

   At the same time the changes were already transitioned downwards as well. The button of his jeans starting to strain against his now wider waist, the effect of the smoke having now reached his lower body. A tightness in his pants burgeoned, and it only increased further with each passing second as growth was formulating beneath his waist.

   This was first evident behind him with the seat of his jeans filling out. His rear was bloating, fat filling up the cheeks while his gluteus muscles expanded. A sizable amount of padding was what got added, overall rounding out his ass into a plump thickness.

   At the same time a bulkiness was being added to his legs. The upper portion of his legs was first, thighs growing thicker with the constant addition of muscle being added to them. The seams of his legwear already began to rip against his maturing hamstrings and quadriceps, the opposing swellings pulling his jeans apart at the sides. A few hairs also poked out the holes, a noticeable hairiness sprouting across his legs and cascading downwards.

   The crus of his legs practically burned, his calves swelling and bulging outwards in an instantaneous workout. The ends of his jeans started to run upwards as the bones of the limbs extended longer, some more inches being added to the man's height rapidly. More and more tears formed across the legwear, the continuously growing hairs progressing more and more downwards as the changes became shrouded beyond and beneath his footwear.

   The toecaps of his shoes started to slightly bulge, toes already beginning to push up against the ends of it as both his feet were forced to grow in size. These changes were practically the same as those on his hands; skin garnering the weathered look to it while an extremely light coat of hair was pressing further down the feet and towards his toes. His footwear progressively got smaller and smaller as portions of his feet constantly dug into the material. Heels pushed against the backs while the sides of his feet were doing the same with the sides of his shoes. By now as the bridge of his feet raised thanks to the thickening of both appendages his shoes began to pull apart, toes moving further and further to the point where they might as well break through the material. Rips and cracks pierced the air more and more as the shifts in size continued more and more until it all came to a crescendo. Blunt toes busting out the toe caps, moving forward more as they progressed an inch or two beyond the edge of the sole. Laces were torn apart, cloth splitting more as more portions of his feet were finally given the space to breathe. 

   Speaking of breathing, his own was seeming to be getting labored in a way. All these physical changes, all this haze in his head, it felt so tiring. Although that could easily be a factor from all the smoke he's inhaling. It was practically enough to replace any oxygen he would have preserved. And yet he continued, the taste and smell of the vapor constantly growing in familiarity even more as the changes progressed.

   You'll get used to it…

   Well, he already was wasn't he?

   "Nmgh, fuck…" he groaned out. The first sound he's properly hearing. His voice got so deep, so… accented. Mature, masculine, gruff, and powerful.

   "How'd it get this… dense…"

   He raised his head and looked forward. At least the smoke seemed to be slowly dissipating. He could see faint lights through the fog. Not the light of a flame, seemed way too… colored for that.

   He pulled the hand that was on his chest away from it and raised it up to his face, pressing the massive thing hard onto the side of it. He had to get out of this practically intoxicated haze he was in… And then he began to idly scratch at his face. An itch was setting into it, said itch followed by the feeling of hairs pricking against the tips of his fingers.

   Deep gray hairs were steadily growing down his face, seeming to have started at the tips of his sideburns and moving down the sides of his jaw. They were delegated to the furthest sides of his jaw for a bit, however as they grew closer to the chin the thickness of the newly sprouting beard got more prominent. Dense fuzz rolling across the lower halves of his jaw, maintaining that as they got closer towards the lowest point of his face. At the same time segments of graying hairs were stretching around and above his mouth, a thick and stubbly mustache being formulated by the new growth.

   The feeling of all this fuzz on his seemed to activate another weird urge within the changing man's mind. Scratching steadily shifted to rubbing, letting all the hairs brush against his palm as his mind was overwhelmed with the urge to feel up his beard. Feel up his… face?

   His originally unoccupied other hand soon followed, the man squishing the sides of his face. All of this seemed to cause another swatch of changes, the sensual rubbing appearing to practically sculpt his face beneath his hands. His jawline steadily chiseled out, chin growing flatter as the roundness faded into something more masculine and hard. The overall shape of his head was altered beneath his palms, growing out to be wider and more rectangular.

   His facial features were evidently altering as well. Skin getting older and more weathered as age was settling upon them. Nose broadened out more as the tip got flatter, and the bridge wider. The front ends of his eyebrows bushed while the back ends tapered out. Even more signs of age etched around his eyes as noticable bags formed beneath them, wrinkles around them. All the while the ends of his hairline receded until he had a slight M-shape indented into it.

   His hair itself wasn't left unchanged either as it slowly grew out a bit, darkening to a deep brown coloration as they did. The style was shifting into a more swept back appearance as the follicles lengthened out behind him, although they only got long enough to graze his upper neck. Either way, they had gotten longer than they were before with many bits of them sticking together and causing a look of thickness to form within his hair. There were also portions that stuck up slightly above other portions, bits that curled towards the end, all of which gave a slight messiness towards the ends of his hair. Last came the sprinkling of grays that formed in the portions of hair at his temples.

   A shock of bright blue entered his irises, a headache growing more and more prominent in his head. The smoke was getting less and less dense, although his mind and vision both remained hazy. Thoughts and memories were hard to formulate, his sense of self feeling like it was muddled and shifted beneath the fog that perpetuated in his brain. He would panic, but the smoke deadens it. The smoke deadens everything, the chemicals within it altering his own brain chemistry to a capacity. How much had he inhaled? He usually tried not to inhale enough to get this high. That felt like such a foreign thought, and yet it felt right.

   His breathing continued, each inhale forcing more smoke into him. Of course with it all spiraling around him and constantly pushing into his skin with age, forcing itself into his very form whenever it can, the density of the vapor was progressively getting less and less prevalent. The lights on the other end were becoming more visible, familiarity yet again creeping into the man's mind as they did so. Of course his body wasn't the only thing the smoke seemed to pelt with itself as the ashes finally started settling on his clothing.

   The density of his shirt steadily increased as the smoke got into the threads, the material shifting from soft to hard as it evidently shifted into leather. At the same time it was also changing color, deepening into a dark brown. The size of his shirt increased as well, and the rip that he had made seemed to extend further downwards in the middle until it hit the shirt's hem. The torn segment rippled as it appeared to smooth out and fix itself, shifting more into a proper split of something like a jacket. This was further exemplified by a small, flat collar blooming from the former shirt's neck. All the while a mostly white undershirt manifested beneath the jacket, his chest hidden again from the world as the newly formed and noticeably baggy attire covered it.

   His jeans were the next part to extend, sliding back down his legs while the tears at the sides sewed back up as if nothing happened. There still seemed to be a slight tightness within the jeans, but it wasn't uncomfortably so. Furthermore was the addition of a larger, darker blue patch that stitched itself to the legwear's right side. Meanwhile, manifesting out of nowhere was a metallic looking pauldron that strapped itself above his right knee. Similar 'accessories' seemed to appear around his body shortly after; such as a leather cuff forming around his left wrist and tightly holding onto it, and a thick and snug leather waist belt manifesting on the lower end of his abdomen.

   The last bit of clothing that had alterations was his shoes. His toes were consumed by the toecaps once again as the footwear started to increase in size. The damage done by his massive feet was easily getting reversed, the cloth fixing itself before shifting into hard leather. The soles of the shoes thickened, the now larger toecap got covered with metal, and the topline was increasing rapidly until it was nestled halfway up the crus of his legs. Any form of lacing was consumed by the leather, the newly changed boots seeming to mostly be smooth with only a few interruptions found within the material.

   All of those changes had caused the smoke to thin out even more, and it was only getting thinner with each passing second. With each breath that the man took. The world around him steadily grew more and more visible, the deep haze fading away into what seemed to be a dingy alley in the Lanes.

   Urgh, how did he know where this was?

   Such a question felt inane after just a few seconds. Of course he'd know where this was, he… lives here? There's a hint of doubt in that notion. There's doubt in a lot of notions really, but the fog within his brain wouldn't let it go. His mind was getting filled with conflicts. Conflicts between his interests, his personality, his age, his identity-

   "Need to cut back on the smoking…" he groaned before idly leaning on a wall of a random building that sandwiched this alleyway. A part of him was surprised it didn't curve inward, but the thought vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

   Still, more thoughts cropped up. That wasn't his voice, was it? And he never smoked, did he…? The more he questioned it the more the inquiries didn't feel right anymore. Constant thoughts of wondering what's right and what's wrong with him slowly but surely getting buried under a single notion.

   That notion was he must've been high as fuck.

   He used the wall as a crutch of sorts as he steadily inched forwards a bit more. The blurriness of the lights ahead had mostly been put into clarity, the man immediately calling forth the name 'The Last Drop'. Although a nagging feeling in the back of his mind was already being tipped off that something was off about it, but with the persistent fog in his mind it was hard to concisely trust that feeling in full right now.

   He turns away, fully leaning on the wall with his back now. Slowly but surely the feeling that this body was his was finally setting in. Any unfamiliarity or weirdness that came with it subsided as it practically felt like the connection between his body, mind, and soul was finally being forced properly. It made the density of the haze in his mind a little less prevalent, even if it still remained.

   Vander. At least he could still remember his name. A low, gruff chuckle escaped his throat. "Ain't that high yet…"

   Although he knew he never smoked this much. All he had to do was dredge up whatever memory existed that explained just how he got here.

   For that second the haze lifted as if to appeal to his demand. A small door that opened within his mind, although it was enough to inadvertently release a flood. Something in his face drained as the high stupor faded in an instant.

   Flames…

[fluffalpenguin]

@arcvmonth day 24: the manga

oh man oh MAN it's vj day!!!!!

it's pretty funny how all my gifs are mostly yuri-centered huh

Under the cut:

revisiting my review of the manga from last year

Headcanons and fic/comic ideas

rambling about an old WIP

small playlist! (with write-ups!)

First of all, here's the 3,000 words analysis/blog thing I wrote last year when I first finished it.

One and a half years later, I still largely agree with it! There's some headcanons I wrote in there that I completely forgot about, lol, so I'm glad past me posted it somewhere for current me to relieve it again! (The rants were also kind of funny to re-read too)

***

Next, headcanons!

Lately, I found myself wondering about Yuto and Yuri's outfits; specifically-

...Why are they walking around Maiami with dramatic red/black capes?

After some time in the kitchen, I decided that when Yuya was younger, he was really into good versus evil roles when rehearsing his dueltainment lines. And who else better to serve as his practice opponents than his two brothers who aren't off busy making rounds at the stadium on a D-Wheel?

Tying his own fluffy, white towel around his shoulders, Yuya throws a nearby black blanket to Yuto. The oldest is initially a little embarrassed about the notion, but no one can ever say no to the baby of the Sakaki family, can they? (He'll just have to live the shame down from the twins later on... They barely even respect him as they are right now, anyway) In the middle of the duel, Yuri walks in onto the two of them after having finished his homework (or tweaking his deck). He raises an eyebrow at Yuto's appearance, but gets the gist of the situation when he sees their duel disks activated and Yuya standing on top of the sofa in a similar attire. As Yuto steals Yuya's schtick and becomes a tomato, Yuri pouts about being left out and quickly leaves to hunt for something that will allow him to join the fun. When the duel ends, Yuto passes the baton to Yuri. As he watches the two rattle off silly, goofy lines like, I will destroy the planet, the universe, all the worlds! and, Never! I'll stop you, fiend!, Yuto sighs in relief. At least Yuya now has Yuri to LARP with. Maybe Yugo would volunteer too, once he returned from driving practice and hears about it. Though, he'd likely ask to play the part of the hero himself. Anyway, Yuto's already almost in middle school; he's getting a little too old to play with costumes now. Then afterwards, at dinner, with an angelic smile Yuya says, "Yuuto, can we play like that again sometime? You look so cool with a cape!"

Yuri on the other hand, always had a tendency for the melodramatic, his own personal spin of the theatrics he's seen from his dad! Deep down he really loves playing the villain.

(This was meant to be a short description but I couldn't help putting some fic-like sentences in there tehe also yes that's a reference to the conversation between Yuya and G.O.D./Eve)

***

(warning: angst ahead)

Another headcanon I have that I want to write/draw something for is that in the postcanon where Reiji, Yuya, Isaac and Ren travel through space and time together, Yuya has moments where he falters to his grief.

He's used to his brothers commenting and nagging him on almost anything and everything (A midnight snack? Think about your complexion, Yuya!) and his world is suddenly a lot more quiet. In his hurt, he starts to avoid Ren, not wanting to be reminded of what he's lost (He doesn't feel good about it).

Eventually Reiji intervenes and Yuya opens up a little. He's been unable to properly let himself grief for his brothers. All he wants to say is that he misses them.

But he doesn't feel like he has the right to do so, having being the one to seal their fates by personally destroying the one method of bringing them back to life. He doesn't regret his decision of course, but he's unable to stop himself from feeling this way too.

It has a happy ending; Reiji convinces Yuya to talk to Ren. Yuya shares stories about Yugo at Ren's request, making the both of them laugh. Yuya realises that there are other methods of bringing back people to life, too, even if only momentarily.

But it is enough.

***

Misc hcs:

Yuya's charisma and attitude is a combination of his three brothers fawning over his cuteness from birth and Yuya being so star-struck with Yusho's performances he attempted to replicate the movements ever since he could walk.

Being the oldest, Yuto feels a sense of responsibility for his brothers and pledged to take care of them in place of his always-missing parents. However, he oft times finds himself not having to do much because Yugo and Yuri are so determined to win over Yuya's heart (and be proclaimed 'favourite brother') that they also make sure to set a good example for the youngest when possible. This causes Yuto a little bit of an identity crisis (/j it's just for fun) until he settles into his role as the househusband cook.

"All of us... are connected by... the arc of destiny!"

Reiji and Yuya are supposed to be silhouetted by their fathers, so Yuzu is meant to seem like she's looking at Yuya, but is in fact looking at Yusho. I also think VJ Yuto should be allowed to smile more!

This drawing is meant to be my love letter to the manga as a whole, and ESPECIALLY the last duel between Reiji and Yuya. I talked about it a whole ton in the review linked above already, so go check that out if you haven't!!

I was really happy with the composition when I first made this, especially with Sora/Ren/Isaac Versus the Yus mirroring their duels! (Well, okay, I know Isaac didn't duel Yuto but.... just give this to me)

Anyway I really wanted a fun and positive energy for it! Every month I think about returning to this but I get slightly demotivated when I realise I have *zero* colour references for both Ren and Isaac... Please send in your headcanons...

***

Last but not least, last month I got brain worms for another animatic/hand-drawn MV for Eve's Fight Song! I'll never ever have to time to go back to it, but I wanted to take the chance to talk about other songs that make me ill when I think about them with the manga.

1. Myth & Roid - TRAGEDY:ETERNITY

Don’t give me an eternity Even if that’s all I can believe Press pause on the flow of time In the shadow of the blink of an eye I don’t wanna fall into a sleep ‘Cause now you are my remedy Now knocking on, knocking on, knocking on my brain Even for the temptation of a nightmare Fate demands a costly reparation for its fare

Translated lyrics mostly from lyrical-nonsense, but I made some changes for better rhyming and flow yahoo!! This song is what I imagine the OP would be in my dreams when it received an anime adaptation, I've always dreamed of making my own animatic to it!!

Not just the chorus, but the ENTIRE SONG (pleeeease go take a look at the lyrics) feels like it's made for the manga please please go take a look

2. MYTH & ROID - -to the future days

I cast my wishes to the future days If we can meet on the other side of eternity… I cast my wishes to the future days What should we talk about first? Sadness and even joy will, eventually Will sleep together That's the way life is If such a world could be granted Would nobody feel hurt anymore?

Yeah I like M&R quite a bit, how'd you know

If T:E was the hypothetical OP, this is my pick for the ED theme, like AAAAAAAA for me it encompasses the yu's story so so so so so so so well, though

And:

Both despair and also life come to end eventually Take this future into your hands and let it run its course Spin it ’round…… The hands on the clock spin around Like flowers, petals falling and fluttering Once we blossom, we dissipate in the moment THE BRIDGE THE BRIDGE THE LYRICS ARGHHHHHHHH This is definitely for me, the moment when the three yus start to fade during Yuya's battle with Eve, their last conversation they have with yuya..... *lies onto the ground in a pile of misery*

Rest of the lyrics HERE shoves it into your face

3. MAISONdes - Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous

It's no joke, no it's not! Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous Even when the time comes nothing will come of it Vague truths only become melancholy Come on and snatch me away now, take on me!

This is a fun one, when I watched the PV and in the chorus Lum was spinning I instantly went wow what if that was Phantom.. and then the lyrics bared their claws and sunk them into my brain and hasn't really let go since

Unlike the above two songs, not all of the lyrics are a perfect match, of course, but I adore how in general the whimsical yet lonely nature of the song feels like it fits Phantom so well!

4. Eve - Fight Song

As the night still refuses to end, let’s dream

Last but not least the song I posted the above storyboard for! CSM fans (as well as Eve fans, lol) are probably already familiar with the song, and full lyrics here, though like the song above, only parts of the song (particularly the chorus) really resonated with the vj brainworms in my head lol Even for me, y’know Let’s make a break for the future Towards the verge of death like we pray for A boy that gave his word Today, just like back then As if there’s no more future ahead

Sigh.... Yuto, Yugo, Yuri................ Just let out your voice Let’s take it easy We don’t even know common sense, so we know the world through wise eyes These overflowing feelings, behold Greet me with an applause

I love the first half a lot, I can easily imagine Yuya saying it to the other three... and of course, the latter, from him to the world! (or perhaps even G.O.D...)

As always thanks for reading GOODBYE I GOTTA GO DRAW SOME ARC-V OCS