#obviously a ploy on his part to get you right where he wants you

[heavenbarnes]

need to write an alternate universe!gaz who’s used to getting his way thanks to his pretty face and has a meltdown when you don’t immediately fold

[maeby-cursed]

➴ OH, STUPID CUPID ! ♡

✧ a/n: happy valentine's, dear angels ! ♡

Toji Fushiguro doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day.

Why would he, after all? It’s merely a capitalist ploy to keep the consumerism engines turning. You can disguise greed in glittery pink polish and white chocolate bonbons but at its core, it won't change its nature.

And so, he spends St. Valentine’s like he would any other day; gets up at dawn, works until his hands are peeled and his back aches and gets home to eat whatever he has left over. 

It’s a good routine, the most stable one he’s found for himself in years. 

He can't recall a time where the fourteenth of February meant anything at all. 

(Except for that one year that it had.)

But he won't think of withered flowers or laughing kisses or other sweets that have since rotten in his memory. A woman, a child, an apartment downtown.

That is all long gone now. The apartment downtown had gotten expensive, and the child had grown older. The woman had gone long ago and there were no more flowers or kisses or laughter.

It’s all capitalism, it’s all vapid and stupid and childish.

So, Toji Fushiguro doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day. That is until you come along, knocking on his workshop’s door.

You’re obviously lost, mumbling an inquiry about how much you could get for selling a motorbike you keep referring to as "an old piece of garbage".

He can't help but snicker at your wording, a little chuckle that grows into a full chest laugh when he sees what you’ve dragged to his shop. It’s painfully obvious that this thing isn’t yours.

You keep holding the handlebars with careful hands, sparing few disgusted glances to the vehicle, as if its mere existence wounded you.

He asks how long you’ve had it, and where you got it, and how much you’d like to get. 

You answer back curtly: two years, your ex, nothing as long as you get rid of it.

You seem annoyed just by having to be there and for some unexplainable reason this amuses him to no end. Maybe being surrounded by car engines in a small workshop with no windows is starting to affect him.

“I’ll take it.”

You raise your gaze from the dusty headlight, shocked by his offer.

“You will?”

“Sure thing. You don’t want it, I could use some new parts, I’ll just scrap it.”

You let out a sigh, relieved, and all the tension dissipates from your shoulders.

“Oh, that… well, that would be great! Thank you.”

Your smile makes him stop in his tracks. Pretty and warm and familiar – something dangerous. His head travels back.

After a second that lasts forever, he acknowledges what you've said, grunting as his only response and getting back to the store with you in tow.

“Could I leave it with you now or…?"

“Bring it back next week, I don’t really have a place to put it right now, y’know?”

You look around the place. It’s full of buckets of paint and car parts, no decor but stacks upon stacks of metallic shelves full of objects you can’t recognize. You chuckle awkwardly, seemingly in a better mood after the compromise you've arranged.

“Right, uhm… Actually, I'm not here next week, could I come back tomorrow?”

Toji turns back to stare at you, and for the first time, really sees you. You look young, probably in your mid-twenties, of bright eyes and shiny hair, and that pretty smile that keeps fluttering over your lips. 

He hasn’t done this in a long time… But maybe…

“I close at 10pm today, why don’t you come back then?” he says, closing his fists to stop them from sweating.

Your wondering eyes freeze on him then, and your lips part slightly. He just can't stop staring.  

“But it’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t you have any plans?” you ask, shyly.

“I don’t believe in that crap.”

Shit. That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

“Oh,” you whisper. You're still grinning up at him, but your expression has lost its warmth, instead replaced by a polite awkwardness and doubtful gaze, and now he's kicking himself in his head.

“Sorry, did that bother you?” he asks, hiding his guilt with a smirk.

“No, not at all!" You laugh, playing with your hands. "I… just, I don’t mind it, I guess.

"I know it's not even a real holiday and that it's merely a product of capitalism, and that it’s all about sales and consumerism and all of that, but… I find it nice, you know? Having a day to be with the people you love…" You look around his shop once, before giving him a shy stare. "It’s sappy, I know.” You end with a shrug, your ears flushed.

Toji doesn’t say anything for a minute, he just breathes and takes it in. 

Oh, he’s grown bitter, hasn’t he? Old and sour. 

His son is out there right now buying flowers with his friends, his coworker is on a date at a fancy place, his one and only friend is buying chocolates for his wife… And he’s here at 5pm, with his hands dirty and his neck sweaty and the prettiest woman he’s seen in a long time in front of him, with no plans for tonight and a lovely smile hidden by a familiar sort of nervousness.

What is wrong with him? Is he truly that fucking stubborn? Can't he deal with a bit of pink?

He’ll admit that he's never minded the chocolates and the roses – even if they aren’t his favorite – and that he always laughs at the cherubs and the cheesy postcards. Of course, he won't talk about how he still hums old 50s songs while he works or how he indulges in a bit of dessert when February rolls around, though.

But he knows. He's always known.

So, maybe it’s not all about the money. Maybe it’s more about being accompanied for once since he was twenty three and alone. Maybe it’s more about taking a shot at getting something good back.

Maybe it's not all capitalism, not all vapid and stupid and childish.

“Yeah… I guess it’s not all that bad.”

“I do like it… sometimes,” you finish, as if completing his train of thought. This hasn't happened to him in a long time. "I’ll be back tonight then…?”

He recovers quickly, smirking briefly before turning to clean his hands with a rag.

“Sure, at 10pm," he says, over his shoulder.

You laugh, cheerful once more, and begin walking to the door.

“It’s a date!”

And, God, he really hopes it can be, if only because it’s Valentine’s Day.

© 2024, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.

[absolutebl]

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers. 

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying. 

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now. 

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.  

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him. 

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants? 

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you. 

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e!  Also sometimes switch-ee 

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch! 

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan. 

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting. 

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

[b3ach-bunn7]

TRUTH OR DARE

You and Gojo are constantly in battle at the top of your classes. The tension that always seems to surround you comes to head at a party

Academic rivals, enemies to lovers, a little mature but nothing too bad

——————————————————————

You wonder how much trouble you’ll be in if you kill Satoru Gojo.

It’s something you think about often, despite how wrong you know the violent thoughts tend to be. You imagine reaching over in English, where he sits directly in front of you, and throttling his neck, right before the dip of his collarbone, the paleness of his smooth skin blooming under your palms.

Of course, you haven’t always been like this. At every school you’ve been to, your need for academic validation drove you to the top of your classes and that was where it ended. There was no competition. You were, as vain as it sounded, the smartest, and you always had been. There’d never really been much competition, and you’d loved your position at the top.

That all changed when you started at Jujutsu High School.

It had been after your first History exam. For the most part, you’d kept your head down, made a few friends. You hadn’t spoken to most people, but you didn’t mind the lack of attention. It was after your teacher had passed back your exams, a beaming smile on his face as he passed you the paper with a bright red ‘99%’, that he’d turned around.

The first thing you noticed was his bright blue eyes. They seemed to bore into you as they fell on your face, flitting over your features, before falling on your paper. You sneak a glance at his, and catch the ‘97%’ before he shifts it out of your eyeline. The next thing you notice is how unfortunately attractive he is, even as his face contorts into a sneer.

“You beat me?” His voice is low, as if he’s scared for anyone else to hear.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He scoffed. “Well, don’t get used to it. Me not being first isn’t a very common occurrence around here.”

You’d been annoyed enough at his cockiness that you’d snarled back, “I wasn’t ‘around here’ before. We’ll see if you stay first. If my 99% is anything to go by, you probably won’t.”

Sure, maybe you could’ve been mature and not fall for his obvious ploy to taunt you. But self-control was not one of your strong points, and it seemed to get even worse around him. Your snipe back seemed to have introduced a back and forth between the two of you.

Every test, every project, the two of you were fighting for the top place. He’d beat you in a maths paper, and you ran for longer during the bleep test. Gojo drove you to revise harder, spend more time holed up in the library, if only to get one step further. Not only that, but he loved to taunt you. How you’d tie your hair, the way you’d colour code all your notes. Any little thing to spike your blood pressure. Gojo would grin, mouth turning up at the corners, eyes boring into yours, his stupid perfect, soft hair falling into his eyes, laughing in that stupid way he did.

Today, his annoying laugh infiltrates your ears as he brandishes your latest English essay, that had received a smiley face. Which, from Mr Choy, was no easy feat. The max praise he dished out was a nod, imperceptible at best. As if that wasn’t bad enough, this was English. Your subject, the one you’d always been best at, everywhere. He couldn't get this as well.

“Look. Right under my A+, a beautiful smiley face. This must be due to my academic prowess.” He grins.

He leans over his chair to your desk, where he points at your paper, which is very obviously void of any emoticons. The scent of his cologne, something piney and expensive, infiltrates your nose, and you want to shove him away.

“Huh. That’s funny. Yours doesn’t have one.” He pouts, tilting his head in fake sympathy.

“Shut up, Gojo.”

“Wow. Remarkable response. I see why I’m better at English than you.”

You splutter, snatching your paper from under his eyes,“You’re not better at English than me.”

His fingers drum over the paper. “You sure?”

You decide to ignore him. You turn your attention to the two girls besides you who are talking about Sukuna’s party. You were invited, but you weren’t really sure if you’d go yet. Parties weren’t exactly the funnest thing in the world. All sweaty teenagers and alcohol.

Gojo must see you watching them because he, of course, has to chime in.

“Are you going to Sukuna’s?”

“I might.”

“Were you even invited?”

You cross your arms over your chest, a spike of irritation travelling up your spine.

“Yes, I was invited.”

Gojo makes a face then, like it’s the most unbelievable thing that could happen on planet earth.

“Is that a surprise to you?”

He shrugs, and turns back around. “I didn’t think parties were your thing.”

“You don’t know what my thing is.”

He turns back around. A slant of light catches on his face, maybe his eyes seem impossibly bluer as they focus on you. You turn your gaze down, to avoid the sheer scrunity you’re under.

“I think I could guess. Friday night holed up in a library or your house with a stack of books? Even the thought of alcohol sending you into a shock?” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“Fuck off.” Gojo winces at your tone.

“God. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Gojo nods slowly, patting your hand, which you snatch away. “It’s okay. I know all that studying doesn’t leave time for love.”

“Well. I don’t have a boyfriend but that doesn’t mean I’m not seeing anyone.”

You don’t know why you said that. You’re definitely not seeing anyone right now. You’d only been at Jujutsu high for about two months. You could count the boys at this school you’d spoken to on one hand. But Gojo didn’t need to know that.

And it was the right decision. Because upon hearing your words, Gojo looks… Weird. His face sort of freezes slightly, and you’re sure he’s clenching his jaw by how a muscle suddenly clenches in it. But the surprise is gone as quickly as it arrived, and he blinks back to his normal, unbothered expression.

“Really? Who?”

“Don’t think that’s any of your buisness.”

“Whatever. Doubt it’ll last anyways.” He says it with a curl of disgust that has you frowning.

“Just turn around, you dick.”

“Okay. But not because you told me to.”

So infuriating. His cocky, self-assured nature is why you decide that lunchtime you are definitely going to Sukuna’s party.

You make this decision with Shoko. She’s probably the closest friend you’d made since you got here. Despite the fact that Gojo, her and the other boy that hung around them were all best friends. She listened to your rants about how insufferable Gojo was, and how much you wanted to throttle him with enough enthusiasm to keep you going. She was also under the impression you liked him, but you ignored those comments.

“You should’ve heard him, Shoko. Like I was disgusting, or something. God, he’s so annoying.” You shout the last sentence in your palms which are covering your face.

Shoko grins, popping a bubble with the nicotine gum she’d started chewing. You knew her no smoking wouldn’t last. She went through this every couple weeks, at your incessant nagging.

“Who gives a shit what he says? He’s never had a girlfriend before.”

Your mouth drops open a little. He’s definitely attractive enough to get a girlfriend. It must be his abhorrent personality that stops him. You don’t realise you said that out loud until Shoko raises an eyebrow.

“You think he’s attractive?” She coos, fanning her face dramatically.

“Shut up. What are you gonna wear?”

You spend the rest of your lunch discussing outfits and making Shoko promise not to leave you alone while you’re there, which she begrudgingly does, after your promise to buy her more gum.

———-

Upon walking into Sukuna’s house, you realise exactly why you don’t go to parties.

The atmosphere is thick with the stench of alcohol, and the music is loud enough you feel it beating in your chest. Shoko had insisted the two of you arrive fashionably late, so you’d avoid the awkward first part of the party before any alcohol had started working its way through peoples systems and broken the tension. You’d taken a couple shots at her house, as she swiped something glittery across your eyelids, and the drinks were warming the inside of your stomach.

Shoko’s hand is clasped around your wrist as she pulls you through the house. You feel eyes lingering on you. It’s the first time anyone at school has seen you in anything but the uniform. You’re wearing a short black dress, the expanse of your legs and probably a little too much of your chest out on display. You’d also rubbed some of this weird glittery stuff Shoko had in her house all over yourself, so you were sort of glinting under the lights. You didn’t mind the stares too much. It was ego boosting if anything.

You arrive in the furthest room, where the majority of your classmates have congregated. You see Sukuna, Uraume, who hangs off his arm, and who you think are Mahito and Choso, lounging on the couch. Sukuna is attractive. Muscular arms and pink hair that the school’s incessant nagging hadn’t affected. He was hot in a hes-no-good-for-me type of way, and you look away quickly when he locks eyes with you across the room. You see other gaggles of groups, even surprisingly Sukuna’s younger brother, Yuji, whos laughing with a dark-haired boy and a girl who sort of looks like Shoko.

The girl in mention takes you to one corner, where Gojo and his friend are in animated conversation. The former immediately stops talking upon your arrival. His eyes travel up your body, lingering on your legs, your chest, before they rest on your eyes. He doesn’t greet you, just looks away. Which is a shame, because the black button down and trousers hes wearing, paired with the silver chain that dangles from his neck, look disgustingly good on him. The boy next to him, on the other hand, smirks in a way that should be illegal, and extends a hand.

“Hi. I’m Geto, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

His voice can only be described as silk, smooth and rumbling from deep in his chest. You don’t even think about how it’s kind of weird he’s asking to shake your hand. You just reach out, shake it, and hope the flush you feel on your cheeks isn’t visible. You tell him your name, and a more mischievous grin break out across his face.

“Hey wait, I know you. You’re the girl Satoru always talks about!”

Gojo turns, suddenly. “Suguru-”

“Oh, really?” You grin at Gojo, “What does he say about me?”

“He’s always complaining when you beat him in class, or when you say something snarky to him, which I find quite funny. Just today he was hating on the fact you got a bo- Ow!”

He’s cut off by a sharp elbow in his gut. Gojo’s clenching his jaw, a look so murderous on his face you let out at laugh. Its much less funny when he aims it at you.

“Shut up. I’m getting a drink.” He points at Geto. “You. Don‘t speak while I'm gone.”

You give it a minute before you follow Gojo to the kitchen, telling Shoko you’re getting your own drink. You ignore the knowing look on her face. He’s leaning against the counter when you walk in, and you try ignore his eyes on your back as you survey the options of drinks. You end up pouring coke and an alarming amount of vodka in a red cup.

“Woah. Careful there. You don’t want to have too much fun, now. You might ditch your academia and become a party girl.”

You fake a laugh. “I know you’d love to see me drunk. It’d give you more stuff to talk to Geto about, right?”

You grin as his smile drops.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I don’t know. It really sounded like he did. What, are you obsessed with me or something?” You sigh, pressing a hand to your heart. “I’m flattered, really.”

Gojo doesn’t move for a second. Then he gets up, walks towards you.

“Do you want me to be?”

“W-what?” You stutter out a laugh.

He’s close enough that you back up into the counter. He doesn’t stop moving though, until he’s right in front of you. He rests his palms on the table behind you. Your breath pauses, a flush rising in your cheeks. You think you should push him away, because the scent of him is overwhelming, and his height is allowing him to tower over you. But you can’t. Even though you loathe him you can’t step away from him.

He leans lower, and his face is so close your lips are almost touching. You’re faintly aware of the people talking outside and how this must look if they walked in.

“Do you want me to be obsessed with you? To think about you when I’m in my room.”

His lips almost touch yours as he speaks. He moves to the side, now talking right into your ear.

“At night, when I’m alone. When I’m hot and I’m bothered and-“

Someone goes to open the kitchen door and the moment is broke. You push him off you, grab your drink and storm out the room before anyone catches you flustered at his hands.

What is his deal? Acting like- Acting like that. In public. Where anyone could of walked in, and seen how close you two were to kissing. Not that you want to kiss him. You don’t like Gojo, not like that. Not even as a friend.

It’s not like you think about him all the time. Only when you’re studying, because of course you need to focus your efforts on beating him. Or whenever you’re in class, because his white head is the only thing in your eyeline. Or whenever you see something blue.

But it’s not like you imagine kissing him. Or notice any of those details about him. Only when he looks at you. Really looks at you, like in class earlier that day, like he did in the kitchen.

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Mahito suddenly shoots up from the couch. He’s energetic in an annoying way, always laughing and pissing someone off. You keep your distance. He announces that you’re going to play Truth or dare. The room pauses, unsure of how to react. Most of them look to Sukuna to see his reaction. He looks quite excited about it though.

“Isn’t that kind of childish? We aren’t 12.” Mako speaks up from across the room.

“Piss off, Maki. Don’t play then.” Her sister, Mai, says.

They’re both opposites, one dressed in a tight dress and the other jeans. They both sit on the floor in a circle, anyway. The rest of the group follows. Shoko sits next to you and you desperately avoid eye contact with Gojo, who has sat directly in front of you. Shoko noticed the tension and whisper to whisper in your ear.

“Is there something going on with you and Gojo?”

“No. Nothing.”

“You sure? You look kinda flushed.”

“Shut up.”

You shove her as she laughs. You parented you can’t feel someone staring right into you.

The game goes smoothly at the start. A couple dares to eat something disgusting, a few kisses. truths which lead to confessions, some to arguments. The circle shuffles as two people leave (most likely to make out) and you find yourself next to Sukuna. He nods at you and you give him a smile.

“Hiya.”

“Hello.” His voice is deep, gravelly.

“Nice party.”

“Thanks. My parents are definitely going to love the stench of alcohol in our carpets.”

You laugh and he grins. It makes him look awfully like his brother.

“You know, I’m surprised you invited your brother. I would have locked my sister in her room if she asked to come to a party I was throwing.” You marvel, nodding at the boy in question.

“Yeah, he begged me. And I owe him. Left him outside in the rain last week because I forgot to pick him up.” He shakes his head. “It was invite him or he told our parents.”

“He’s sweet, though. Other than the blackmail. Showed me around on my first day.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Of course he did. Ever the goody-two shoes. Teachers love him.”

“They don’t love you then?” You smile.

“Nah. I’m not the best behaved.” He grins again, and it stops looking cute like Yuji’s smile and turns into something much more troublesome.

“Mhm. I see how that’d get on their nerves.”

He stretches slightly, and his shirt rides up his arm, and you see a tattoo.

“Woah. That looks cool.” Your fingers graze them lightly.

You realise the alcohol you’d been slowly drinking has made you much braver than usual. You dont think Sukuna minds. You’re well aware of him flexing his biceps for you. What a show off.

“Thanks. Did them when I was sixteen.” He sounds wistful.

“You make it sound like it was ages ago.”

He shrugs.”Feels like it. I don’t regret them, but they don’t make getting a job any easier.”

“Are we going to keep playing, or what?”

Gojo’s voice cuts across the room, and everyone immediately sits back down. It’s not his party, evident by the sour expression on Sukuna’s face, but everyone just listens to Gojo. He has a weird sort of control over everyone. Even though he was a nerd, smart and perfect at every subject, every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him.

You meet his eyes across the room and his face is thunderous. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, but he just looks away.

“Okay, my turn!” Shoko grins. There’s a cigarette in her mouth and you sigh at its presence.

The game is simple. Spin the bottle in the middle, and whoever it lands on gets asked a truth or dare. You had not been picked yet. It’s why you’re not paying much attention when the bottle lands on you. Shoko woops, and Sukuna nudges your shoulder.

“Lucky you.”

“Not lucky at all. Look at her face. I’m fucked.” You wince at the expression Shoko is pulling.

“Truth or dare.”

“Uhm. Truth?”

Sukuna boos. “Come on, be fun. Pick dare.”

You whine. “But she’s so mean.”

“Come on.” He drags out his syllables, and you groan.

“Okay fine, fine.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs. You flush slightly and he turns to the rest of your peers.

“She picks dare.” He holds your arm up in the air and you laugh.

Shoko pauses. Thinks. You see her glance at Gojo, just for a second, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest.

“I dare you. To have seven minutes in heaven. Or in seven minute in a pantry, whatever’s available.”

Oh, god.

“With Sukuna.”

Oh.

Cheers erupt from your friends. Someone whistles, and Sukuna just smiles. He offers you his hand, and you take it, a furious red covering your face. You see Gojo for one second before he leads you to his pantry, and he looks like he’s about to kill someone.

Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe. Why else would he be so angry?

Sukuna shuts the door, and you feel the awkwardness the second he does. You don’t know if you expect him to kiss you, or if he expects you to kiss him. You don’t really want to, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“So.” He says.

“Uh. I like your pantry.”

He pauses for a second. And then bursts out laughing. You cover your face with your hands, cursing Shoko under you breath.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I don’t know why she did this.” You groan.

“It’s cool. It’s because of Gojo, right?”

You pause. Other people were aware of your crush? You’d only just found out a couple minutes ago.

“I- What do you mean? What about him?”

“I mean, you like him, right? And he likes you”

“Really? Do you think so? That he likes me?”

Sukuna smiles at you again, and you’re suddenly very glad he wasn’t some dick who was going to try and force himself on you. You were surprised. He looked much meaner around school than he was being right now.

“Duh. He looked like he was gonna kill me just ‘cause we were talking. And i saw you guys in the kitchen getting all freaky.” He snorts at you embarrassed face.

“Okay, we weren't getting freaky. And also, i didn’t even realise I liked him until today.”

You're both leaning against opposite sides of the wall. You thump your head against it, groaning.

“I don’t know what to do. We spend every minute arguing, i don’t even know how I’d tell him”

Sukuna ponders it for a moment. “You wanna make him jealous?”

You probably shouldn’t. You’d seen the look on his face when you just spoke to Sukuna. If that look was actually aimed at you. You couldn’t be sure. It would be best to find out. Definitely the smartest, most logical solution.

“Okay. Sure. But, i don't think i want to-”

“Its okay.” Sukuna holds up a hand.

He ruffles a hand through his hair, and starts biting his lips. Oh. You get his drift, and do the same. You ruffle your own hair, smear the lipgloss on your lips across your face.

“Wait, come here.” You pull him towards you and press your glossy fingers to his chin.

Sukuna is cool. In another world, maybe you would’ve ended up with him.

The two of you collect yourself (or pretend to) and open the door. You find that the Truth or Dare circle has split, and everyone has split back into their groups. You search for Gojo, and you catch him across the room, staring at you. He looks at your messed up gloss, Sukuna’s ruffled hair. The muscle in his jaw clicks, and he turns away.

And then nothing.

Sukuna winces next to you. “Yikes. Sorry about that.”

“It's fine. Thanks for the help.” Sukuna nods once, then walks off.

God. You don’t know what you expected. For him to barge in and rip you and Sukuna apart, then kiss you? It was stupid. You were stupid to even think about acting on your stupid crush.

You decide to go outside to get some fresh air. You go out the front door, away from the backyard smokers. The sky is clear and it’s cold, but you can’t bring yourself to go back inside to get your coat. You just watch the stars and think about how the hell you’ll get over this.

Maybe let him beat you in a couple tests. He’ll get his ego boost and lose any expectations that you’d ever beat him again and leave you alone.

The door behind you opens and slams shut. You turn around, hands rubbing at the goosebumps on your arms. It’s Gojo.

“What the hell was that?”

He walks out and stands in front of you. This isn’t like before though. There’s no tension, just his anger.

“What- What are you on about, Gojo?”

He laughs, mirthless and sarcastic. “God, don’t give me that. You were practically throwing yourself at Sukuna the whole time we were in there.”

“I- There’s-“

“Touching his arm, fucking doing, I don’t know, whatever the hell you were doing in that closet.”

You cross your arms, frowning. “Whatever the hell I was doing in there is none of your concern.”

“It- God, you’re so difficult. Did you know that?”

You could hit him. Really just slap him across the face.

“Me? I’m the difficult one? I’m not the one pressing up against you in the middle of the kitchen and simultaneously tormenting you every day.”

“I don’t torment you.”

“Yes you do.”

Gojo takes a step closer to you. You want to take one back but you let the distance between you two get smaller.

“I torment you because you drive me mad.”

“Why? What do I do to drive you mad?” You say, voice carrying out into the empty front porch.

“You just do. God, it’s like you don’t know how fucking gorgeous you look all the time. When you’re working out a question and you bite your lip. How smart you are, almost as smart as me. The way you just challenge me all the time and it’s all I can do not to kiss you to get you to shut the fuck up.”

You mouth moves but no words come out.

“Yeah, just like that. Silent.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“And then you walk in here with the stupid dress. Your legs and your tits fucking glowing in the lights. And then you’re flirting with Geto and throwing yourself at Sukuna.”

He’s even closer now. Just like in the kitchen, except this time there’s no people searching for alcohol to interrupt you.

“And then you were in that pantry and I nearly broke the door down. And you walk out, and you have that expression on your face. Hair all messed up.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Your lip gloss all ruined.” He drags them over your lips. His thumb dips into your mouth and he lets out a shaky breath as your lips close around it.

“Hell, I could’ve fucked you right there.”

Before you can think about it, your hands curl into the collar of his shirt, and you pull him down and kiss him.

Gojo freezes for a second before he moans into your mouth. He returns the kiss with fervour, lips slotting against yours messily. Like everything the two of you do, you’re fighting. He pushes, you push harder. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. He grins against you, tongue licking against your teeth and your gums. He moves from your mouth to your jaw. The part where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks marks onto your neck and they bloom onto your skin. You moan. Your hand card through his hair, and it’s just as soft as you always thought it’d be.

You moan his name, and he shakes his head.

“No. No, Satoru. Say it, say my name.”

“S-Satoru.” You whisper, and he shudders.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

He hikes one of your legs up by his waist. Your dress slips up your thighs and you feel the heat rising up your neck. He uses your free hand to grip at your chest, mouth still working its way down your body.

“God, you taste so good.” He says in between kisses.

“Shut up..” You breathe out, head thrown back against the wall.

He stops then. Gojo looks you in the eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Really? You want me to stop?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. I want you to keep kissing me, I want you to stop talking.”

He hums under his breath. His lips are swollen and red, and he looks so good you reach forward for him again. But he stops you.

“No. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to do that.” You say.

“Come on. Use that beautiful brain of yours.”

You sigh.

“Please.” Your voice is flat and he laughs.

“Ah, you can do better than that.”

You roll your eyes at his smug face. He’s got you pushed against a wall, dress hiked up your thighs, and he’s got the nerve to be asking you to ask for things.

“Please, Gojo, please oh please will you kiss me. Your lips are all I think about, all I dream about-“

He cuts off your rambling by fulfilling your wish. You moan into his mouth, your palms sliding down his chest. He pulls back slightly, kisses your jaw, then your chin.

“See. So much prettier when you just stop talking.” He tilts his head and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off. I could say the same about you.”

He hums. His fingers trail down, down past your stomach and your thighs. They slip under your dress and your breath catches as he grins something devilish.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

——————————————————————

If you love enemies to lovers (specifically academic) PLEASE read all of Ann liangs books they r incredible!

[thetriumphantpanda]

Breeding kink with Pike?

Anon said breeding kink with Marcus Pike and my brain went 'say less' - I love that man with every ounce of my being and this... well, it did something to me!

Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader 

Word Count | 1.4k 

Warnings | Explicit. 18+, Minors DNI. Sweet, sweet Marcus Pike, some allusions to pain during sex but nothing to cause it here, obviously breeding kink, little bit of praise kink and maybe some daddy kink if you squint a little. Also un-beta'd so, all mistakes my own I guess.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration (now bleeding into my 2K celebration) - if you want to read previous requests, you can do that here .

He’s looking at you over his drink with those eyes that you love. Eyes that tell you he’d rather be anywhere else but here, with you, in this restaurant. His coffee brown eyes have gone dark, mainly from the way you’ve been wrapping your lips around the straw in your drink, sucking the fizzy vodka tonic into your mouth, looking into his eyes as you swallow, much like you would if you were alone right now. 

“You going to keep teasing me like that all night?” He asks, raising his hand for the waiter to bring your bill. 

“I’m not teasing.” You smirk, sucking the last of your drink into your mouth. 

“The way my jeans are fitting right now would suggest otherwise.” He speaks lowly, finishing just in time for the check to be placed on your table. 

“I’m not responsible for your inability to control yourself, Marcus,” You tease as he fishes his card out of his wallet to pay, “Can’t help that you love me so much you want to keep me perpetually naked.” 

He chokes a little as the waiter comes by to take the payment, and then Marcus is all but dragging you by the wrist from the restaurant. You don’t miss how he stops just outside the door to adjust his jeans. His long strides down the sidewalk mean you have to almost jog to keep up with him as he walks the short distance back to your apartment. The one you’ve shared with him for almost a year now. 

He doesn’t even bother turning the main lights on when you get in, just locks the door behind you, dragging you into your bedroom. He’s not even kissed you when he pushes gently on your shoulders to sit you on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees in front of you. It’s almost second nature to you now, the way you hike the hemline of your dress up your thighs and spread your legs for him. 

You smile when a choked gasp leaves his mouth, eyes dropping to the red lace covering your sex. He hasn’t seen this in a while. His warm palms trace up the inside of your thighs, his breath ghosting over your skin. 

“You get all dressed up for me?” He speaks lowly. 

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out, baby?” 

It was a calculated ploy by you, the wrap dress. Showing off your cleavage all evening, you’d caught his eyes dropping to the swell of your breasts more times than you can count, but it was also easy to take off, as Marcus was currently demonstrating – pulling at the belt at your side, watching as it reveals that you did indeed dress up for him, red lace cupping your breasts, just like the red lace between your legs. 

“Fucking hell,” He breathes out, hands coming up to massage your tits as his lips finally meet your own, tongue meeting yours as he pulls the cups of lace down, you moan into his mouth when he thumbs over your nipples, rubbing them to stiff peaks, “Did I forget something special?” He asks. 

You chuckle against his lips, his hands moving to shove the dress from your shoulders, sitting back on his heels to take in the sight of you. Legs spread, tits exposed, just waiting for his next move. 

“You gonna eat me out, agent?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him, lifting your foot up his thigh to rest where he’s almost bulging out of his jeans. 

“You think you deserve that after teasing me all night?” He growls, gripping your ankle to keep you still. 

“You know you’ve got to work me up,” You smirk, eyes dropping to his groin again, “Don’t wanna hurt me, do you?” 

He brings a hand to your neck, holding gently as he growls into your ear, “Don’t pretend you don’t like it when it hurts a little.” 

He releases your neck, hands trailing down your body to the thin waistband of your panties. You lift your hips off the bed automatically, watching as he drags the scrap of lace down your legs and onto the floor. He moves you so that you’re lying flat on the bed now, his own body settled between your thighs as his fingers dip through your folds to your weeping hole. 

“You don’t need any working up baby,” He groans, teeth nipping at your neck, “Fucking soaked just from teasing me.” 

He eases two of his thick fingers into your cunt, curling them upwards almost immediately. Your big talk is suddenly nowhere to be found, not when his fingers move inside you like they do. He works you open with that expert precision he’s always had with you, got you writhing underneath him in no time. When he pulls his fingers from you, you whine, until your eyes train on him undressing himself. 

He's back on you in seconds, kissing your open mouth, grinding his hip into yours so his thick cock drags through your folds, nudging at your clit every few seconds. He pulls back gently, reaching over into the bedside table for a condom, when your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him. 

You look him directly in the eye, “Not tonight agent,” You breathe, “Put a baby in me.” 

You’re pretty sure you see the way his brain malfunctions at your words. You’d spoken about this enough for it to not be a secret, you’d come off the pill months ago but had both agreed to wait a few more months before trying. Well, you were tired of waiting, you wanted Marcus to give you what you wanted. 

“Baby,” He groans, “You sure?” 

You reach down between the two of you, gripping his cock in your fist, pumping it a few times, “We’ve waited long enough,” You groan as you move your hips, lining his cock up to your aching cunt, “Fuck me, Marcus.” 

He does just that, pushing his hips into yours to sink himself into your heat, dipping his head to kiss along your jaw as you shift your hips underneath him, urging him to move, to do anything. Marcus pulls back, sitting on his knees, with his hands on your hips as he starts fucking into you in earnest now. His eyes are trained on the way you’re spread out for him. His hands slip from your hips to rest on your tummy. With his cock still spearing into you at just the right angle to have you crying out of every thrust, his soft hands on your tummy almost make you want to cry. 

“You’ll look so fucking beautiful baby,” He groans, looking down at you, “So fucking beautiful full of my baby.” 

You reach down, fingers seeking out your own clit for relief as Marcus pounds into you with an intensity you’ve not seen before – like he knows now you’ve given him permission, he’s got hell of a fucking job to do. 

“Wanna make you a daddy,” You squeal as he shifts his hips just a little to change the angle of his thrusts, “Come on baby, fill me up, please.”

“Make yourself come for me darling girl,” You can tell he’s close, his voice breathy and his hips starting to stutter, “And I’ll give you anything in the world.” 

You add more pressure to the circles your drawing on your swollen clit, back arching off the bed as the tight coil finally snaps in you, crying our Marcus’ name as your pussy clenches around him. 

“God damnit baby,” He groans, finally falling onto his palms, placing either side of your head as he chases his own high, “Clenching so well around me, such a good fucking girl for me.” 

All you can do is continue with the moans of his name, gripping onto his sides as he pounds into you. He doesn’t last much longer, stilling inside you. You can feel that familiar warmth spread through you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls like you’d begged for, and God it feels good. 

He pushes himself back from you, back onto his knees as he pulls out of you, watching as his cum drips from your spent pussy. He looks you directly in the eye as he uses his thumb to push what’s fallen from you back inside, lifting his fingers to your mouth so you can clean off what’s left behind. 

Marcus finally collapses next to you, pulling your shoulders to bring you closer to him, your sweaty skin sticking to each other as his fingers draw patterns along your shoulders as you wrap your arm across his waist. 

“Not bad for a first try,” He chuckles, kiss pressed to the top of your head, “Need to perfect it though, what do you think?” 

“Practice makes perfect, after all.” 

[earthry]

Serving Papas (Butler AU Headcanons)

Self indulgent AU where you are nobility and the Papas are butlers who live and breathe to serve and love you.

tw: mostly sfw, a little spicy in some parts, butler and master/mistress relationship dynamic, fluff, jealousy.

Primo

Primo has a lot of experience under his belt and he knows what he’s doing. From running the estate to organizing your personal affairs, he excels at any task you set forth. Unfortunately for you, he's professional to a fault so you have to work hard to tempt him.

You call on him to make a drink and deliver it to you while you're still bathing, making sure to leisurely lounge in the tub as he sets the drink down on a nearby stand. Though you catch his eyes traveling down the curve of your body with appreciation, he doesn’t say anything and swiftly leaves when his task is done.

At every turn and every trick you have up your sleeve he seems to resist with no effort at all. To you, he’s completely unaffected and you almost give up a few times. However, you are persistent.

What you don’t know is that he relishes every little thing you do, every inch of skin you show, every soft sultry tone you try with him— he dreams about, he fantasies. Still he thinks it’s unprofessional of him to pursue you and besides the gap in social classes is just too wide. You’re a wealthy heir/heiress and he is merely one of many servants under your family’s employment. It would be unrealistic of him to become infatuated with you (although he already is, whether he realizes it or not).

His last straw comes when you are perched at your vanity one evening in lingerie and ask him for his 'professional opinion'. At first he's very clinical, telling you that you look gorgeous or handsome as always (though what he really wants to say is that you look ravishing), bowing his head in respect as usual. Then you ask him if he thinks [insert name of one of many suitors] would like it and you pretend to admire yourself in your mirror, brushing your hand against the lace.

It's jealousy that finally pushes Primo to succumb to his desires; hearing you talk about bedding another man who obviously wouldn’t be able to please you. It only takes a few more remarks before he has you pinned to your bed, growling about how you're a minx or a tease and how [suitor] could never appreciate your body like he can. And oh boy does he prove it.

Primo is an intelligent man, so he's very aware of your ploy that he’d fallen right into. He may grumble about it, however, he's not giving you up now that he's had a taste. You've ensnared him so you must take responsibility (which you gladly do).

Secondo

Estate and event planning are Secondo’s forte but once he’s set his eyes on you, he gets very familiar with your personal affairs— prioritizing your health, safety, and comfort above all else.

He’s indifferent when you first meet, not caring to make small talk or socialize. He thinks you’ll be just like every other noble he’s served, despising their attitudes, their selfishness and behaviors to those less fortunate, and how confident and arrogant they are about themselves.

You, however, are different in so many ways— in your kindness and patience, in your willingness to listen and help others, in the respect you treat to everyone around you regardless of class or occupation. Secondo begins to see this and as time passes he falls more and more in love with you.

Puts your happiness above his own. If you fell in love with someone else and never wanted to see him again, he would let you go. But if you fell in love with him and wanted him? Oh, how he would treasure you. How he would worship you, how he would do anything in his power to keep you safe and happy.

Gets jealous of suitors easily but is also pacified quickly when you rest your hand on his arm and reassure him that he is the only one you want. He's like a big scary guard dog that growls but the second you touch him, he's so tame and good for you.

If you're someone very frisky and flirty, he will play into it. He can be dominant and isn’t afraid to grab you by the waist and push you against the wall, latching his lips to your neck and nipping the sensitive skin to bruise.

If you're more shy and anxious however, he would be so so gentle. He would shield you away from prying eyes, would never do anything in public if it made you uncomfortable. He would never judge you. He would take you slowly in the safety of your bedroom, spread you against soft sheets like you were glass.

Terzo

Terzo is just as brilliant of a butler as his brothers are, but with his own flair. He completes each task given to him with flamboyancy and flourish and brings a lot of life and personality into the estate.

The first time you meet, he takes your hand and places a gentle kiss to the back of it, declaring that his life is now yours, and ‘you’ll take very good care of me, si?’.

You learn very early that he’ll do just about anything to see that pretty little blush on your cheeks, to see you flustered and pink. It’s addictive to him. Sometimes you try to get back at him but it never works, he’s never phased and always seems to be able to turn it back on you.

You do end up flustering him however, but not in a way you expected. The first time he sees you ready for a ball and in your favorite dress or suit, he’s stunned. The way you light up when you admire yourself in the mirror, the way your outfit looks on you. The way you animatedly talk about how excited you are and how the first thing you’re going to do when you get there is stuff yourself with good food. He’s so distracted in how beautiful you are that you have to ask him more than twice to pass a hair brush.

Terzo’s a little different after that— still flirty but it’s almost softer. It doesn’t feel as deliberate or superficial as before, this feels genuine. He sticks around more and does little thoughtful things for you. Bringing you a tray of your favorite snacks when you’re working, brewing tea for you right before bed.

You find yourself growing fonder and fonder of him until one night when he brings you your tea, you catch him by the sleeve before he can leave. He looks surprised, but his expression softens as he asks if you need something. You tell him to stay, and he does. At first he sits and tells you stories until you fall asleep but several weeks later it evolves to him holding you close and you resting your head against his shoulder as he softly hums Italian lullabies until you drift off. He’ll kiss your forehead and stay with you until morning, making sure to also get rest of his own and he finds that he sleeps much easier with you in his arms.

Copia

Copia lacks a lot of confidence and experience, but he sure knows what he’s doing. He’s a hard worker and it shows. Depending on what tasks you give him, he will teach himself everything he needs to know in order to complete it.

Falling in love with Copia is easy and inevitable. Though he can be very awkward, you find him charming in the gentle ways he treats those around him. You’ve caught him in the kitchens feeding the rats before and he nearly had a heart attack until you reassured him that you didn’t mind. He’s a sensitive man, one who has a soft spot for all his favorite things, who can’t resist a good plate of rigatoni even if it’d save his life.

Flustering Copia becomes your favorite pastime, watching his cheeks heat up as he stutters out what you lovingly dub his little ‘Copia noises’.

The two of you are kind of hopeless though, because you’re worried he won’t like you the same and he’s worried that you won’t like him the same and it takes forever for the two of you to finally confess your feelings to each other. It drives the other staff nuts (they’re all rooting for the two of you though).

Copia is the first one to confess, panicking when he hears about you accepting a date from one of your suitors. It’s a invitation to a picnic by the lake side and he nearly busts a blood vessel when he stammers that you shouldn’t go.

You ask him why not and he blurts out that he knows a better picnic spot and he knows how to make all your favorite food to bring. Both your cheeks are pink— him from mortification of what he just said, and you from feeling flustered by him for the first time in exchange. He’s apologizing profusely when you take his hands in his and ask him if he’s asking you on a date and your eyes are so sparkly that he can’t find it in himself to lie no matter how embarrassed he feels.

The picnic is perfect even though it rains and the two of you have to gather everything into your arms and book it back indoors. You end up eating the rest of the picnic huddled by the fireplace to dry and it’s still a very intimate setting.

You laugh because Copia slicks his hair up into a mohawk while it’s still wet and it ends up drying sticking up all over the place. You love this silly man.

As the fireplace begins to die down, the last of it’s final moments flickering to coals, you share a tender first kiss. It’s soft and sweet, ending with your forehead resting against his and sighing contently.

[clay-tries-his-best]

! atsv spoilers !

when i sat down in my theatre seat to see atsv im telling you i was being the most autistic fuck you've ever witnessed. you could practically see the sparkles in my eye, dude.

the spot. my godddd he's so silly. the marketing ploy to make him seem like the side villain from the trailers was so fucking smart. I really thought that Miguel was going to be the main villain considering him fighting miles in pracgjcalky every trailer ever and being in the post-credits scene of itsv. and miles dealing with having to be everywhere at once was very realistic and gave me the classic "oh my god this poor boy this is painful to watch". oh and gwen's beginning scene of the drums just gave me the feeling that the movie was going to be fantastic. like, betrayal, amazing visuals, more gwen?? already a wonderful start. also the fact that the spot's whole reason to turn into a major villain is that nobody, not even the person who caused his disfigurement, would take him seriously- like- HUH???? perfect. wonderful. bro just wanted miles to pay attention to him for a little while.

Pavitr and Hobie were also really great additions to the spider team. Despite the fact that Hobie's accent was so thick and deep that I couldn't understand what he was saying a good third of the time, he still managed to work his way into my top 5 characters of the movie. THAT is good character building. At first I thought he was going to be the stereotypical love rival, considering his first mention was miles getting jealous of him and gwen being friends. I was worried that was how the story was actually going to go when he upstaged miles by breaking done the collider force field, but hes actually a really chill and cool guy. pretty sure he even roots for gwen and miles, so that's pretty funny. Pavitr was also super funny with a great character design. " Chai means tea, you're just saying tea tea! " was probably one of my favorite lines / jokes from the whole movie. His world was also very pretty and SUPER detailed. Props to every artist for Mumbatten.

Miguel and Peter B.'s dynamic was really fun to watch as well. This cryptic emo ass mastermind vampire who has watched people die and destroyed a universe next to this middle aged man in a pink fuzzy bathrobe who's oogling over his daughter. also, the line where Miguel said " I've had the right amount of you today " to peter b instead of " I've had enough of you " like the normal saying goes was kinda queer. just saying. but yeah, great villain, and I do want to see him in the final battle against spot, but I eventually don't want him to be the one to beat spot, y'know? If it was to be anyone, it's obviously going to be miles. Whether it's just miles or miles and gwen or miles and the gang gwen assembled at the end of atsv (WHICH HAD SPIDERNOIR YESSS SPIDERNOIR FANS LETS GOOOOOOO I HAD THE STUPIDEST SMILE ON MY FACE WHEN I SAW HIM IM TELLKNG YOU), in the end it's still gotta be miles.

the collider scene with the spot was really cool. spot may be silly, but he's not dumb enough to be " saved " by his archnemesis who only cared about him when he was about to become a transdimensional eldritch horror. boss move. his final form was really pleasing to look at because you can just see the detail that went into it. Looking at some screenshots, I noticed there were a lot of eyes and I'm pretty sure I saw a version of spiderman (original world 1610 peter, possibly?) staring at miles / the audience. despite him not showing up for another hour, hour and a half, I wasn't mad. If a movie can avoid showing the main villain for that long and still have them integrated properly, just, wow. blown away. oh and this part made me even more interested because his beginning ost, spot 1, I think? his random beats and tunes sounded more silly and disorganized and clumsy, like him trying to take the atm. near the end, he got spot 2, which was more shrill and frightening. I'm not musically trained, and I could still tell that it was scarier, and to me, they sounded very similar. To not have too far of a difference between the two and stroke two entirely different chords is just. ugh. wow.

don't even get me started on prowler miles... RAHHH THE CHARACTER AND WORLD DESIGN FOR UNIVERSE 42!!!! it was so beautiful and scary and breathtaking because there is. no. spiderman. when miles's mom didn't know what he was talking about and gwen wasn't really outside, it hit me like a brick in the head. and alternate aaron??? hello??? he made me physically uncomfortable because of how terrifying his face was. i couldnt even tell if he was wearing makeup or he was just that dramatjcally shaded. the turn miles does to see that it was his dad painted on the wall instead of aaron.... GRAHHHHHH

as an aspiring artist, I can say nothing but wow. that movie, the fact that it was 2 HOURS AND 20 MINUTES???? HELLO??? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WORK THAT MUSTVE TOOK??? unbelievable. and you know that sony felt bad for making us wait on a cliffhanger, so they probably were around 3/4 done with atsv and started working on beyond, so we didn't have to wait as long as we would've if they finished atsv and then started beyond. I'm so glad that those 5 years in the Sony team paid off, because that. was. amazing. my depression is vaporized. im going feral, going wild, going insane. i will not think of anything else until beyond is out. can't wait to see my bbg spot have his villain moment in March 2024!!! <333

[missellaneousworks]

Check - SDJ Angst Drabble

Something is Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is a +18 ONLY series. MINORS DNI.

---

"Y-you made it! I didn't think-- um, can I get you some cocoa or some coff--"

"Ian, what is this?"

You slapped the envelope on the tabletop. Against your better judgment (and Jack's concern), you met with Ian at the cafe you two used to frequent. More like confronted, after you received a very hefty check in the mail from your ex-boyfriend. Which wasn't entirely unusual, given that he was still on the lease until the end of the year. His only saving grace in order to keep in contact with you, much to your frustration.

However, this paycheck was four times the amount he was supposed to pay. And you knew him better than to assume it was a mistake-- given the numerical and written numbers were exactly the same.

You wanted to be able to hear him out without Jack whispering into your ear this time, so you asked him very nicely to trust you on this, you needed to be able to tell Ian off on your own terms. He wasn't too happy about it but promised he did trust you to do the right thing. If you needed him, he'd be there.

You were met with a very puzzled expression on Ian's face as he looked at the opened envelope with confusion. "It's... my part of the rent."

"Not if you're blind, that amount is way too much. What the hell were you thinking? I have to drop this off in two days! Either send me the correct amount or don't send me anything, Ian! I don't have time for these games."

Confused, Ian opened the torn flap and pulled out the check he had written, which also had VOID written in black permanent marker across the paper. "W-why is this-- Did you do this?"

You couldn't help but scoff, who else would have destroyed a check with the incorrect amount on it. "Obviously. That's not your part of the rent and you know that. What are you trying to pull, Ian?"

"Nothing, I'm not trying to do anything! That was... that was all for you. I wanted you to have that money."

You looked at him incredulously, trying to pick apart his expression. That confirmed your suspicion that it wasn't some random typo, but that paved the way for more anger and confusion to flood your senses. "Why? What could I possibly do with this kind of money? That's way too much!"

"I-It's not for me. I mean, I can afford it." Ian offered a gentle smile, timidly reaching his hand across the table to connect with your closed fist. "For you."

"...what are you saying?"

"Every day after... after what happened," his eyes cast aside, and you could see their genuine pain. His voice was solomn, yet resolute as he spoke. "Not a day goes by where I don't hate what I've done. Hate what I did to us. I never ever wanted to hurt you like that. I know you suffered for it."

You clenched your first tighter but didn't pull away from him yet. Your voice was so tired, "Ian... we've been over this a hundred times. What does this have to do with you sending me a loaded check?"

"I want to make you happy again, give you the things in life you deserve. I wasn't able to do this for you before, but I can now! I sent the check to cover the full rent for at least two months. Or you can use the extra bit to buy yourself something you need. Or if you wanted to go back to school, I can help cover the tuition cost. I just wanted to show you I can treat you better this time around. Give you more than you deserve."

His hand closed around your fist, his voice soft and pleading. "Please... I want to make it up to you, but you have to let me."

During the whole monologue, you felt your anger subside momentarily. He was... doing this to try to make you happy? This wasn't some weird, petty ploy to give you a bad check to trick you into seeing him? He was trying to... help you?

'He's not being truthful, Sunshine.' Honey words flowed into your mind, cautioning you. 'He's given you promises before. And what did he do to you instead...?'

Your anger that once subsided, had begun to reach a full boil again. This was just another attempt to put a bandaid on your broken relationship and call it a day, wasn't it?

'Yes, Sunshine. He's trying to trick you. He may say he can treat you well, but it will only be a matter of time before he hurts you the same way. Then he'll do it. All. Over. Again.'

This was his plan, to bribe you?!

Through your rage, you felt your tongue begin to thaw out.

"How cheap do you think I am, Ian?"

"Wha--" He looked shocked as you tore your arm away and stood up from the table. "I-If it's not enough, I can give you more! I thought--!"

"You thought you could just buy me out so I would take you back?!" You slapped your hand on the table, uncaring of the eyes looking in your direction. "That's how little you think of me?!"

Ian backed up in his seat, beginning to panic at your sudden outburst. "No! No, no, no, I don't think you're like that at all!"

Your anger wouldn't stop, you were furious at this point and you needed to let him have it.

"Is this what you're going to do every time you fuck up our relationship? Throw money at me like a bandaid?!"

"I-I-"

"What happened to you, Ian?" You bit back a sob that was beginning to settle in your throat. "Who the hell taught you to buy people's affections to make their problems go away?"

Ian said nothing back, his expression teetering on anguish and disbelief.

"Well," you angrily took the void check off of the table, cleanly ripping it in half before his eyes. He watched as the pieces fell onto the table. "That's what I think of you and your money."

With that, you turned and headed out the cafe doors with Jack in tow. Your anger returned to a simmer as you swiftly walked away from your former lover. The other half of the rent still needed to be covered, but you'd be damned if you would take a dime from him. You were better than that.

"I'm so sorry that didn't go well," you slowed as Jack's fingers entwined with yours, your rage slowly burning off of you, leaving a cool, yet fuzzy feeling behind. "But I'm so proud of you, Sunshine. You really held your ground back there."

"...I acted like a vengeful, crazy--"

"Hey!" He cupped your face between his two gloved palms and turned you to look at him. "None of that-- your reaction was completely understandable given what he was trying to pull. You're not a fault here." His thumb soothingly brushed your cheek, the tiniest touches easing you to relax. It never ceased to amaze you how the tiniest things he did for you made you so hooked on him.

"We'll figure out what to do," he promised, his voice low and smooth. "Let's go home first, you deserve to know how to be treated by someone who truly loves you~"

[dearestones]

Definitely not a request, but I would like you to respond to this situation:

What if "you" starts thinking about whether there were more women kidnapped before her, and they are probably not there anymore because L "got bored" and finally set them free. Do you think if she tells L about it, would he take it as jealousy or would he sarcastically joke about the topic?

Hey, Devin here!

That is certainly an interesting scenario that you cooked up here! And timely too, hmmm....

If the situation is true. If L has indeed kidnapped women before and they are nowhere to be found in the present, then here's my take:

Well, for me, it depends on what sort of relationship that you have with L. If you're more submissive/compliant, then he would answer you honestly. After all, you've been so good for him and he knows deep down that kidnapping you is wrong and that part of you always yearns for freedom if you comply with his wishes. He'll state his answer with clinical disinterest, but he will make sure that you are well taken care of. If he suspects that you are jealous, he'll dismiss it and tell you that in the present, at this moment, you are holding his attention. And if you can no longer do that, then he'll dismiss you like the others.

If you are more unruly/have attempted escape many times, L is definitely going to be more cruel. He'll ask if you're finally seeing sense and thinking of him as "yours". If you deny the accusations, he'll pretend to let the matter slide, but he'll never let it go. He will insert comments about your jealousy if you dare act in ways that contradict your misbehaving nature. This is obviously a ploy where you have two options A) finally concede defeat and act the way he wants you to or B) you continue to act in increasingly alarming ways and he has no choice but to punish you. You would think him a sadist except for the fact that you can see no feelings of remorse or much of anything in his dark eyes.

Either way, even if he let his other victims free, why would you think that he would do the same for you? Have you ever considered that you would be different?

Oh dear.

You really thought so, didn't you?

That's all right. Even if he bores of you, he won't let you go free. Rather, if he doesn't want you any more, then why would anyone else?

He'll get rid of you just as clinically as someone throwing away trash, but you will be thought of. Fondly.

And if the situation were false?

If L didn't kidnap women before?

He'll simply dismiss your concerns and reprimand you if you press the matter further. If you're on good terms like in the previous scenario, he'll try to placate you with sweets, better accommodations, etc. If, however, you're on bad terms, he'll cut you down with words and get it through your head that no one else is good enough for him.

You are.

And he's never going to let you go.

[agent-cupcake]

I dont know if you're still doing the yandere flowers but if you are could you do snapdragon and myrtle for dimitri :)

Snapdragon - What is the darling’s day-to-day life like? Does it depend on how they’ve been acting, or is it always the same?

Most days are the same. Dimitri can't keep track of you at all times, you're pretty much being babysat by palace staff, guards, or his friends whenever the two of you aren't together. He likes to have you near him, obviously. He loves hearing your opinion on policy decisions and getting your perspective, although he's also incredibly distracted while working so it can be quite isolating despite his overbearing need to keep you where he knows you're safe. As long as you stay inside, you have freedom to do what you like. And it's not as if this is entirely unreasonable, right? You are his queen, he is forging a new status quo after a war. Although he is certainly popular to some, he's also the hated enemy of many. Which is funny because he is perfectly willing to put his neck on the line when it comes to tempting fate, but goddess forbid you ever put yourself in even the slightest bit of danger. For the most part, it's better for everyone to create the illusion of normalcy, even if that comes at the expense of a few not-so-veiled threats from his friends to keep you sticking to the status quo.

The exceptions are days he takes breaks for things like hunting/camping trips or traveling for diplomatic reasons. You're always expected to go with him. Outside of the palace, the leash only gets tighter. It's for your own good, right? Another exception is if you insist on being reckless or argumentative. Dimitri is usually willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. No matter what you say about your own feelings or how he treats you, he's ready to misinterpret it in any way that doesn't involve you wanting out of this toxic relationship and then lock you in your room to ensure you can't do anything dangerous for good measure. Better to beg your forgiveness after the fact than risk your safety. But, again, everybody involved has a vested interest in keeping you in line and maintaining the appearance of normalcy to ensure Dimitri can devote himself to his duty without having to worry about you constantly.

Myrtle - Is this yandere consistently the same during the time they spend with their darling, or does their attitude begin to change? If so, what prompts the change?

Dimitri's behavior can vary greatly, his mood shifting with very little discernable rhyme or reason. For the most part he's very sweet and considerate, albeit with varying degrees of stressed, distracted, and exhausted. Sometimes he's very, very loving and affectionate to the point of needful. It's borderline love-bombing, although in equal measure it's his need for love and affection to be returned so it's not as if it's some calculated ploy to manipulate you. Other times he just wants the companionship and conversation. And then there are days where he's barely communicative at all and, although he still has the obsessive need to keep you at his side and safe, he barely acknowledges you or even acts very brusquely. Dimitri doesn't get upset with you directly (that would ruin the whole idolization thing he's got going on) but he's also not above taking out his frustration on you either. If he does get upset with you, he'll focus that on outside factors. You find a way around his security, it's the fault of lacking safety measures. You're angry with him, it must be something else that is making you upset. What you need is to be loved and placated, or the things that are upsetting you need to be removed.

The biggest change would be the intensity of these shifts in mood, as they'd get worse the more obsessive/possessive he became as the paranoia and adoration deepened. The more he loves you, the more agonizing and terrifying the thought of losing you becomes. It's painful, this hellish state of utter bliss and sinking dread. And it doesn't really matter how much you love him back, or how completely you submit to his paranoid security measures, because ultimately he is still aware of how easily you could be taken from him, how vulnerable you are not only to the rest of the world, but to the part within him that has an insatiable thirst for destruction. So, yes, his attitude would change. It only gets worse.

[royaletiquette]

continued from [x] | @distopea

It isn't like Hibiko is exactly gentle towards Gabriele, but he also never quite needed it. Neither of them cared to let their guard down often, so maybe it should have been expected for him to not read her tone correctly. She felt dismissed. A small reach for comfort was instead outright rejected. But he didn't answer the question! Did he not care about… hell, any details at all? It was all black and white apparently: who he needed to protect from harm was all there was to it. Which may have been just fine back home, but whatever he was pretending to protect her family from in Germany was not the same here.

Did he assume it was a ploy, like she was testing him for something? It frustrated her to think of Gabriele not taking her concern seriously. Or worse yet, did he understand perfectly what Hibiko was asking, and instead of allowing any words of comfort, was forcing her back a distance? Like what, having an affair was all fun and games, but heaven forbid she reach out for a fucking hug?

The queen leaned back in her seat, still taken off guard by the answer when Gabriele had already moved on.

She wanted to argue against the clothes but wasn't able to quite find the words in time. Taking a couple of clips out her hair, she threw a sweater over the top of her dress to dress it down, and adjusted the hat to better fit her head. She felt ridiculous, but held her tongue as the pout on her face did most of the complaining, getting out of the car.

Being greeted as they entered the store, the employees' Japanese had an easy job of snapping her out of her sulking. The queen was smacked with nostalgia almost instantly, nervous butterflies in her stomach trying to tell her that she'll be okay. If she was out of harms way before, she might have even believed them. Pretending to not know where to go for as long as possible, she's thankful Gabriele is unable to read any signage to point her in the right direction any faster than wandering around would be.

Once in the beauty section, Hibiko was able to focus more, grabbing a couple different shades of red from different brands, and comparing the undertones to what was left on her nails. Looking between them, wanting to go with what she already had, but perhaps something more neutral was better?

Glancing to Gabriele, she was able to catch him in a brief moment of weakness, distracted by the perfume and cologne glasses next to them. Following his eyes, "You can go pick one out if you'd like." A bored tone, happy to steal a few minutes away from his looming presence if he would allow it.

But it wasn't enough. The more that embarrassing moment of attempted open vulnerability played in her head, the more the sight of him got under her skin. She could practically hear him breathing, counting the minutes it took Hibiko to decide. Her disdain for him at that moment took over her anxiety, and decided to do what she knew best: act out.

Being over chatty with the sales person as she went to cash out, she hoped Gabriele being unable to understand them would stun him enough to not interrupt. There was some stuttering on her part, but the conversation flowed naturally. Of course, until Hibiko was paying and was suddenly caught off guard by a simple question: "Where are you from?"

At first, she was caught in a lie she hadn't even told yet. Germany was an obviously incorrect answer, but would it be so horrible to answer here? Then just as quickly, she realized what actually prompted the question: she had an accent. Not only was Hibiko's Japanese a bit out of practice, but she forgot there was this posh dialect to how she spoke that always gave her away when younger. A curse of growing up so far upper class, left over from the days when that distinction was more favorable. How obvious was it now a days, she wondered? Did she sink back into it easily, or was just enough to throw the cashier off in confusion?

The realization stunned her enough to not answer. Instead, she pretended to not hear the question properly, prompting the employee to repeat themselves while Hibiko bought time to think of an excuse. Continuing with the purchase, she spouted out some bullshit with a laugh, deciding to take it as a compliment to her pronunciation. Gesturing to Gabriele with another giggle, Hibiko forced herself out the conversation and grabbed her things.

The smile kept a forced tug on her lips until they left the store, only then allowing her face to fall completely with the immediate repercussions. Prefering to not admit so willingly, Hibiko continued to the car, choosing the front seat this time, as if keeping up appearances still meant anything.

[rollercoasterwords]

i had such A fun time reading r’s ch. he knows so much more than s lol, indulge us so many information. i’m gonna miss his pov!!

also you’re a genius. this is such a complex story. the plot is a lot. and we have two very distinct perspectives going on that fit each other beautifully. it’s a difficult writing and you make look like it’s easy.

anywayyyy! i started rambling. i meant to ask how you think r’s feelings for s are right now, after he knows s knows he’s in the order (if this can’t be answered without giving much away you just ignore it

thank u!! i do not know if i would call myself a genius lmao i feel more like a kid in a candy store who's just grabbing every single yummy plot idea that i see...will i be able 2 successfully weave them all together 2 make it work? who knows...stay tuned...

as for how r is feeling! i suppose this might be giving like. a bit of information away just bc this is not info that s will be privy to once we switch back to his pov in pt ii obviously but. i don't think it spoils anything in terms of plot etc. still i will put it under a cut just in case!

so the thing for remus is that like. he genuinely hated sirius + all he stood for going into this. like i am hoping that came through lmao but unlike sirius who was basically experiencing a somewhat like....linear? i guess? process of slowly growing closer (or so he thought) to remus + opening up to him + getting to know him better, remus's feelings have been much more tangled throughout.

sirius has definitely surprised him, and he's got the self-awareness to acknowledge that sirius isn't exactly who he thought he was/expected him to be. at the same time, in any instance where remus's own feelings softened--whether he was feeling pity, empathy, sympathy, attraction, etc--he has had a pretty immediate + visceral pushback in his own mind. unlike sirius, who basically trusted that what he was getting at face value w remus was 'real,' there is always doubt in the back of remus's mind that anything sirius is doing could be some sort of act or play, and any soft feelings he's evoking could be an intentional move on his part--partially bc that's exactly what remus is doing to sirius lmao. so while sirius is, for the most part, letting himself just experience those feelings as they come, for remus any instance of positive feeling is immediately wrapped up in a reminder of the potential danger, the power imbalance, and thus the hatred that he continues to harbor towards sirius.

as time went on it became more apparent that sirius wasn't like, performing any sort of act/didn't really have a ploy the way remus did, but remus could never fully let go of that doubt. and even when the doubt lessened + he began to feel like sirius was potentially being genuine (or as genuine as he could be, in this sort of situation where they are both hiding so much from each other), those feelings were still wrapped up in hatred. remus doesn't want sirius to be nice. he doesn't want sirius to care about him. he doesn't want sirius to be gentle or thoughtful or kind because he doesn't want to like sirius, he doesn't want to feel anything other than hate for sirius, and the fact that he is starting to just makes him hate sirius more, because it feels to him like one more way that sirius is taking power away from him. so again, any 'softening' from remus is pretty immediately shut down by a hardening of his hatred, and also tied to disgust with himself that he's even capable of feeling something for a person who is basically like. the mascot of his oppression. he wanted to finish his mission and leave sirius behind and never have to see him or think about him again.

but! obviously that cannot happen now <3 and i do not think i can say much more without giving stuff away but!! that's basically where remus is at by the end of ch 6 lol

[grimm-rider]

Entry 19

We headed out first thing in the morning, and made a beeline for the camp. We didn’t bother with stealth—they knew we were coming.

Maybe we should have tried being a little more stealthy.

As we made our way around the parameter of the camp, aiming to go after one of the corner guard towers we hadn’t yet cleared out, the clouds over us began to roil, and form a shape.

The shape of a man—a familiar man. Gregorio Rasputin. He taunted us about how little we could do—Aenland tried to shoot him and it passed through his form as he wasn’t really there and he laughed about us believing he’d really come to this plane to see us. I called him out on his cowardice, and he claimed it just meant he was smarter than me. According to him even Elvana knew he was smarter than me.

Right, because the queen wasn’t just appeasing her idiot brother to keep him working happily and quietly.

He declared he would show me how much smarter he was, before calling down several bolts of lightning. Stormbolt. A very powerful spell.

Rasputin left, laughing at us, but my brain was working on something too much to listen to that shithead.

His power, the way he cast it, the way he received power, the spells he used…

Rasputin was like me.

His magic came from the same kind of place. Only instead of being in some way close to undeath, his soul was stitched to his body so he couldn’t die.

Stupid bastard hit the jackpot. Got immortality without even trying. I have to actually work for it.

I made the terrible executive decision of telling the others about this revelation, and they realized he was also a necromancer like me. Aenland started off that he was a ‘boner’, which I agreed to because it was calling him a boner instead of me. Then Edeya went and added ‘you were both boners together’, and I had the realization that I almost certainly fucked him, and then no one was having fun anymore.

In my defense, he would have easily been the most powerful person in the room barring Elvana—who was obviously off limits if I wanted to live—and he’s not a bad looking man. He’s just a total prat.

The worst part is we probably got along when I was the Grim Rider. I can easily imagine a time where I would have enjoyed the presence of someone like him. It’s not like Nazhena and Pavril, who knowing I’d been friends with them made my skin crawl. Rasputin is at least as terrible as them, and I want to make it quite clear that I hate him in current day. Yet I can see where in another life I’d have found the way he’s toying with his enemies amusing, and his tactics and use of necromancy very much to my style.

It annoys me to think about. Besides, knowing me, it was still all a ploy for more power or just because he’d be a fun lay. The Grim Rider didn’t care about Rasputin. And I won’t care about cutting his life short.

After we healed up from getting electricity dropped on us by a stupidly powerful spell, using up a nice chunk of our resources first thing in the morning, we made for the tranches. We made a parameter around the camp, clearing out all of the trenches and towers one after another—only avoiding the one that was covered in that miscolored poisonous smoke coming from the back of the camp.

Around the back of the camp, we came upon the graveyard—and the Tombstone Fairy we’d been told to meet. Paulina, who was busy digging up skeletons. She waved a shovel in our direction and asked if we were Rasputin’s goons. I told her, quite the opposite in fact, we were here to save his dear mother.

That got her attention. She would speak to those working for Baba Yaga. She told us about a man whose name started with an M—a hunchback with a metal leg—who had helped to build the towers Rasputin was using to control the lightning. He was apparently going to be the key to getting into the real cathedral in the center, as shining the four lights on it to see it wasn’t going to be enough to actually enter the First World where the cathedral was actually located. But Paulina told us where to find M’s body and soul, and even said she would resurrect him for us if we brought him back here with his soul free.

Unfortunately, his body and soul were in two separate places. His body was being held by the Baykoks, and the soul was being held by the ‘weird goat’ we’d heard about. Turns out I was right that it wasn’t Pavril’s familiar. Paulina described the creature in question, a goat with a lantern around its neck that trapped souls, and I recognized it from tales from my childhood. A Lantern Goat. Undead that lead people away into the woods in the guise of a helpful guide, then steal their souls after they’re lost and dying and alone in the frozen wastes.

Paulina offered to resurrect M if we could free his soul and return his body to her. She also told us about a ‘little grandmother’ who she felt we should meet, in one of the other buildings. She was going to offer to revive us if it came to that, but apparently we’re all ‘too pleasant’.

From what I gather about Tombstone Fairies, she means none of us fall in the universe’s arbitrary definition of ‘evil’.

Almost a shame I’m apparently not quite enough of a bastard to have that failsafe—but then, I don’t plan on dying, so with any luck it won’t be a problem.

We left Paulina and finished clearing out the trenches and guard towers. Then we made for the front entrance. Nevra did the honors of busting open the second electrified gate.

And then that rat bastard Rasputin appeared again.

We tried to scatter, knowing we couldn’t fight him and knowing he was going to throw some kind of spell at us.

Unfortunately, Talsune and I weren’t fast enough. My partner got hit by a Destruction spell—probably aimed for me. Rasputin laughed, calling after me that he’d hit my mount. I told him to shove it.

That fucking hurt. Talsune was in bad shape. I’m going to give that bastard as much and more when we finally get onto the same plane of existence as that coward.

And things didn’t end there. Before we could even regroup, lightning fell from the sky, striking Talsune and I, and a few of the others. My partner has always been stoic, and he didn’t outwardly show it, but he was hurting, and he was on his last legs.

Aenland spotted that the lightning had come from a building towards the back of the camp that was supposedly empty according to the map Dimitry had given us. It would seem we had more to investigate there.

For now, however, we saw the last remaining tanks currently powered down and parked at their stations to the side of the gate. We decided to take them out before they could be a future problem.

Nestian threw his necklace of fireballs, and I ignited them with a well placed Screaming Flames. The living tanks awoke—but they didn’t get a chance to react before Nevra and Talsune swooped in and breathed fire and lightning across the constructs’ metal shell, causing it to spark and melt, and finally shut down entirely.

Talsune returned to my side, and I asked Edeya to heal him while we planned our next move.

We decided to start moving more stealthily through the camp—and hopefully not get jumped by Rasputin a third time. We would start in the building inhabited by the Baykoks, and move our way around the parameter.

So it was that we snuck to the building, and kicked down the door into a long building full of Baykoks wielding rifles surrounding a single Meladaemon. The daemon—the personification of death by starvation—was clutching a corpse, about to devour it. It was the corpse we needed, the hunchback with a metal leg.

Fortunately our sudden appearance distracted the outsider from its meal.

And when I took control of one of the Baykoks and made it start shooting the daemon, it was permanently distracted. Although Aenland got the final shot on the gluttonous beast. I don’t mind, I got the real prize here—I’m keeping this Baykok, unlike the one from the fortress in the Dancing Hut that I left behind.

Since I’m keeping him, I named him Roscoe.

We stuffed the corpse into my bag of holding for the time being, and then continued on to the next building—the barracks where the prisoners had been held.

There was no one in this building—no one living. The place was the site of a massacre. Bodies littered the floor, with the tell-tale puncture wounds on their necks of vampire bites. The nosferatu brothers hadn’t conserved their food source very well.

Man, Rasputin couldn’t even have the decency to go and shack up with the sexy kind of vampire. Nosferatu are no fun. Moroi are where it’s at.

They’re antipaladins of the Pallid Princess…they probably won’t be easy to dominate. But man what if I did though? Remind them that Urgathoa gives necromancers superiority over the undead…

Eh, we’ll see how I’m feeling when we fight them.

After we left the slaughter house, we went to check out Rasputin’s old abode—the Abbott House.

When we approached the door I got the deepest sense of dread I’ve ever felt. The Geass in my chest began telling me to leave, and my own instincts were telling me the same. Something about that place was wrong. I’m not an easily frightened person, and that place made me feel like a terrified child, hiding from the monsters lurking around every corner on a stormy night.

Before any of us managed to get up the courage to try to open the door—it seemed that the dread of that place had seeped into all of us—Nestian spotted a woman in the well behind us.

She was a fey woman, a Rusalka. She wanted our help to kill her rival in romance, as Rasputin had dumped her in favor of a daemon of heartbreak—a Erodaemon. Because that’s really smart. Dating a creature who’s the embodiment of death by heartbreak. That can’t end badly at all.

(Yeah we’re going to ignore the fact I’d probably have done the exact same thing in his spot a year ago.)

The Rusalka told us that if we tried to enter the Abbott House, all of the creatures within the poisonous gas fog in the nearby trench would rush out and attack us. So that was good to know to be ready for. Maybe I can even think of some way to clear up that fog to get a look at what we’ll have to deal with ahead of time.

She also told us about a little boy who had ran into the Surgical Theatre. He was apparently usually with his sister, but she hadn’t seen his sister in a while. The Rusalka knew that a Doctor inhabited the Theatre—an outsider with barbed wire strung all around it, that liked experimenting on prisoners.

Obviously, we decided to save the house of horrors for later, and went to try to find the child and keep him from being this Doctor’s next victim.

We snuck our way to the Surgical Theatre. I sent Ivan and Roscoe around back, while we went through the front doors. Within there were horrific creatures—twisted beings of glorified pain. Kytons. Feral Kytons led by this twisted Doctor—another type of Kyton we never identified.

The Feral Kytons leapt at Nestian, who was the first in the door. Chaos broke loose as the back door burst open and Roscoe began firing arrows into the Kytons. Talsune and I worked on cutting down the ones attacking Nestian. Aenland shot half a dozen arrows into the Doctor and felled him before he got a moment to react. Nestian’s axe felled another, followed by Cesseer’s shotel. Aenland finished off the one Roscoe had paralyzed—and all went quiet.

We searched the room, and found a small closet. We figured that must be where the children were hiding. I sent the undead away to guard the doors, and the dragonkin stepped back so as to not crowd or frighten them.

When we opened the door two children stepped out. A young boy, and a teenage girl. The boy introduced himself as Alexei, and the girl was his sister, Anastasia Romanov. The girl was a bit shaky, she seemed not entirely sure of where she was. She told us that she believed they had been taken by the people who had killed their parents. But she was having a hard time remembering things.

Something about her demeanor rang a bell in my head. It wasn’t a common ailment back home, but it was known to happen from time to time. Resurrection sickness.

Whoever this young lady was—she likely hadn’t survived what had been done to her family. The boy may not have either, although he seemed to have faired better if that is the case.

I didn’t inform the girl that she had died—I know from experience that that isn’t exactly easy news to learn, and especially for an already somewhat traumatized young girl. Especially for one who isn’t familiar with magic. It was better to keep it quiet for now. I did telepathically share with the others what I had realized, so that they would be informed incase it turned out to be vital information.

On the way back to the Dancing Hut, we talked to the children about what Anastasia could remember. Her family had been the rulers of this country—which made her and Alexei the equivalent of a prince and princess, although they seemed to use different terms here for their nobility. But there had been a rebellion, and people had come and killed her family. She was pretty sure a servant had rescued her.

Nestian floated the idea that Rasputin had kept the children to keep them safe. I shot that down immediately. I might not remember the man, but I knew enough from what I’d seen of him—and of the Grim Rider—to put two and two together to know that he wasn’t that sort of person. No kindness lurked hidden in his heart. If he’d brought them here at all, he’d done it for his own gain.

Finally, we arrived back to the Dancing Hut. The Hut quick hopping about for the first time since we’d arrived to the prison camp, and walked over to greet us.

Not us—it walked over to greet Anastasia. It *bowed* to the young woman, and suddenly Baba Yaga’s voice rang out from the Hut. The ancient woman’s voice called the young girl granddaughter, and told her to claim her birthright.

Not for the first time, I wonder just what we’ve stumbled into.

[refried-ghost]

The alien was at his house. Nearly every day after school. Dib was incensed.

It seemed where ever he went he'd see that green face. And possibly the worse part, Zim had mostly stopped giving him any attention. Not that Dib wanted the alien's attention! Of course he didn't, but it'd be much better if he was the focus and not his sister.

Gaz passed Zim a ranch bottle barely looking at him.

"Thanks," he said, obviously trying to get her guard down! His tongue stuck out slightly as shook it. It let out a fart as he squeezed it. It was quickly capped and placed up right on the table. Dib instantly snatched it while shooting the invader a glare. Zim stuck his tongue out at the human before returning to his food.

Gaz sighed.

"He didn't do anything to the ranch, Dib."

"You don't know that!"

"But I did tamper with the sauce!" Zim proclaimed a hand on his chest. Gaz shook her head. "You will never know of the horrors that await you dirt child! The horrors of the sauce!" He laughs evilly.

"See I told you!" He jumped up onto the table. "I know your games Zim! Gaz may fall for them, but I won't!"

"Yes, yes, we know zit boy." The irken waves him off. Dib's smile dropped to a frown. "Go on then. Thwart Zim's masterful scheme." A carrot crunched loudly in his mouth.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth. It's gross," Gaz said.

"You're gross!"

"You're a child."

"There are no Irken children. You either are a smeet finishing development fresh out of the pods or you're an irken." Gaz raised a brow.

"is that so? When do irken's stop growing?"

"It's different for everyone, but most never truly do. There are just tiny, tiny spurts of growth, then nothing for long periods of time. Normally. Obviously, there are expectations." Zim smiled proudly. "I was the tallest in my plug for a while!" Gaz hummed.

"Did you grow all at once then?" Then took another bite of her sandwich.

"Yes!" He said brightly. "Yes, I did." He deflates. "I finished growing as soon as I left the smeetry."

"Is a smeetry like skool?"

"No, that's an education plug. A smeetry is more like a nursery, perhaps? I don't know if there's a human equivalent."

"How long are irken's in skool then?"

"However long it takes."

"Do irken's have families?"

"No."

"Not even as smeets?"

"Especially not as smeets."

"That's pretty messed up."

"Is it?"

Dib leaped off the table, unintentional interrupting the conversation. He cursed to himself. That was some good information. With the ranch grasped tightly in his hands, he went into the living room. Lingering behind the wall didn't have the desired results. No. The topic had quickly shifted to video games.

After another ten minutes of nothing he went downstairs to the lab with the bottle. But somewhere he knew this was a ploy to distract him from Zim's true plan.

[mellowgoop]

big spoilers for the entire castlevania super show

So I watched 4-6 (season four must be consumed piece by piece I guess) and like 65% of the series resolved so I have a ton of thoughts...

first and foremost, I think Isaac is one the shows absolute biggest accomplishments! I get the sense that either carmilla losing herself or isaac finding himself was something OG fans did not like about the netflix show, but not knowing their characterizations in anything else, I was pretty happy with both.

in season three (pretty much for every moment since dracula spared him) isaac was the most interesting character to me because I just had NO idea what he was working towards, even though he had the power and the will to get it done like, no questions asked. there were numerous, *numerous* points in season three where I was like youre seriously doing all of this to get revenge on *hector???* the poor sopping napkin meow meow chained up in a puppy kennel right now? it seemed like this kind of. pain projection thing blaming him for the fall of draculas army because of their bond? meanwhile isaac versus carmilla was OBVIOUSLY the more interesting revenge story. I didnt really know if the writers acknowledged that or were just hoping we really did buy him wanting revenge on hector specifically that badly, but now thats one thing that Im preeeeeetty sure they had a plan for. compared to lots of other things. ... more on that later

at the personal level, isaac finding his will to live and "become human" again despite all he's been through is one of the best parts of the series to me. but, as you start to expand it outwards, a lot of other things start to feel a little less good. Like, I haven't seen Lenores final scene yet, but I DOUBT anything is going to change about my thoughts on Hector by the end and that definitely soured. maybe intentionally?? for a while, I felt like he was the most relatable character because he seemed to be the only person with a pure heart left in season three carmillas castle, and was doomed for it. but then one day I was like hey... why did hector join *draculas human eradication campaign*??? wh... why did he do that?? and this last scene definitely threw dirt on this even more like. HUH? you made a last ditch deal with st. fucking germaine to revive dracula for.. pennance?? or no, its because you wanted to throw this at isaac who you were deathly afraid of (rightly) in hopes he would spare you. *maybe???* it just seemed so random. and why did you build a portal to carmillas room of all things?? why do all this for a desperate shot at surviving isaac AND turning him against carmilla? like, it almost holds up as a smart persons self-preservation ploy but its too forward-thinking when its based on a coinflip of isaacs mercy. i think a fucking. teleporter out of the castle would have made more sense, if we are to believe he is a. smart and b. self preserving in a disaster? and as much as i can infer hes afraid of all the god tier people out to get him in this scenario... he ends up thinking of a random way to cut the ring off so .... i think he could have just warped out and ditched the ring and helped lenore leave too.

and thats verrrry granular thinking for character whose motivations werent even clear to me, he definitely went from product of the situation to way too much a product of the situation.

meanwhile. CARMILLA is a fun character jesus christ. In S3, I misunderstood a couple of things and thought I didnt like carmilla and lenore at all. I thought lenore was legitimately so broken she could manipulate someone that deeply on the daily but, thats absolutely not it lol. she was very much earnest and torn up. that concept was significantly more disturbing than the rest of the show to me at first so i was like... swag but what? I didnt like carmilla because I thought we were legitimately meant to emphathize with her or at least get her angle in S3 but... that is very much not the case lol

like isaac, on a character level I really like carmillas downfall because its very clear! yeah no, you lost everything about yourself in the name of revenge and """""ambition,"""" thats clean and it was explained very clearly in her convo with lenore. its a lot like dracula again, and the fracturing of her court seemed like it would be interesting but then that just... didnt really happen? Im not sure why isaacs attack couldnt have waited one more day for these people to squabble? on one hand, I was very afraid for strigana getting bury-your-gays'd and im happy they moved on as a family unit. but like. that DEFINITELY happened too soon, carmilla didnt even know they had their change of heart. and at the least, how did we not get them saving lenore???? i seriously doubt that would change whatever lenore and hectors last scene will be. i buy lenore and strigana moving on from carmilla, thats like their whole point, but i diiiiislike them just assuming lenore is dead. like what?

in the end, it happened a little too quickly and while isaac and carmilla had fitting endings theres a lot of weird in there. It wont keep me from rewatching, but it reminds me of GOT ending things prematurely because uh... life is cruel and things happen. forget about that chara and plot. moving swiftly on!

[babybluebex]

𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐎 | 𝐞𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | in order to survive after becoming edward’s princess, you have to pretend to love him, but what happens when you start to realize that you might not be pretending anymore? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | edward nashton (the batman, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | dubcon, stockholm syndrome, dark!edward, this is again a dead dove don’t eat thing: riddler kidnaps you and you fall in love with him, idk what to say 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | y’all asked me for a second part to creep, and here it is! also yes the title(s) come from creep by radiohead haha

Why he didn’t kill you that first night, you’ll never know. Maybe he took pity on you. Maybe his obsession with you was overpowering. Whatever the reason, you were alive when the sun rose. Yes, you had been bound to a chair in Edward’s apartment, your wrists and ankles duct-taped to the arms and legs of the chair, your mouth secured over with more tape, but you were alive. At that moment, that was all you could ask for. 

You had been locked inside what you could only call his office all night with a gag in your mouth, and your fear kept you awake. You couldn’t sleep even if you wanted to. All the walls in the room were covered by newspaper articles and clippings, the eyes of Police Commissioner Savage and the Waynes all scratched out, and it haunted you. You tried to look around behind you and catch some glimpse of what lay there, but, as far as your peripheral vision went, you could only see the decor of a madman. If your memory was right, that very wall lined up with the wall of your own extra room in your apartment,and the wall of his bedroom was against your own bedroom. The thin walls; that’s why you never heard him, because he spent all of his time in his office. 

Once the sun came up, barely peeking through the window, the door to the room opened, and Edward stood there. He looked fairly harmless, standing there in khakis and a buttoned shirt, obviously his work clothes, but your heartbeat increased and you tried to scramble away from him as much as your confinement would let you. “Stop that,” Edward snapped. “You act like I hurt you.” 

Edward stepped into the room, and came closer still, and he finally stopped when he hung above you. His hair was slicked down, his glasses perched on his nose and, by all accounts, you shouldn’t have been frightened by the look of him. He should have looked like anybody you passed by on the street in downtown Gotham on your way to class. But you were afraid of him; behind the meek facade was a killer, a man who could do such unspeakable things. 

Edward hung above you for a moment, looking like a vulture stalking his prey, and he finally reached out and grabbed the corner of the tape on your mouth and ripped it off. Pain shot at your lips, and you groaned at the feeling of it. “Sorry,” Edward mumbled. “But I need to go to work. Do you want to stay here or in the bedroom?” 

“Why does it fucking matter?” you spat. “You’re just gonna tie me up no matter what.”

“You could at least sound like you don’t hate me,” Edward said. He sounded genuinely hurt, and he added, “Make a choice, darling, please.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you said through gritted teeth. “You kidnapped me, I’m not your darling.” 

“That’s exactly what you are,” Edward told you. “And kidnapping? That sounds harsh. I took you away from your stressful life to a life where you have no worries. Just sit there and look pretty, that’s all you need.” 

“I’m not gonna fuck you again,” you told him. “You’ll have to find some other girl to lie to and manipulate.”

“I didn’t lie to you about that,” Edward told you, and your heart sank. You assumed that everything he told you had been a lie, a ploy to get you home and into your pants. If he was honest about that, what else had he not lied about? Was he really the Riddler? “I was a virgin, but you changed that.” 

“What else did you tell the truth about?” you asked, and you jolted away from him when he knelt down beside you and began to undo the tape around your ankle. The adhesive snagged the bare skin of your leg and you hissed in pain, and Edward gently rubbed his palm on the sore skin. 

“Everything,” Edward said, his eyes focused on his work. “Only my intentions were a lie.”

“So, you are the Riddler?” you asked, and Edward nodded. “Y-You killed the mayor last night?”

“The first of many,” Edward sighed, as if he were just talking about a project at work. “It was a rush, let me tell you. I thought that was the best feeling ever, and then I had sex, and— Last night was mind-blowing. On several fronts. You should have seen Mitchell’s head, he was—”

“Please don’t,” you whispered. “I-I don’t like… Gore or whatever.” 

“I don’t either,” Edward replied, and he flashed a smile up at you. “But there’s something special about it being your own handiwork. Anyway, let’s move you to bed, maybe you can manage some sleep.”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snarled, kicking out at him with your now-free leg. Edward artfully dodged your leg, though, grabbing it with an iron grip just as it passed his face. “Let me go!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Edward told you, jerking you forward by your leg. “I don’t want to, I never wanted that, but you might make me have to. Stop fucking fighting me!”

The chair scuttled under your body as you flew forward, and huffed as Edward dropped your leg. “I’m not fucking giving in,” you clarified. “I’ll find a way out once you leave for work.” 

The tape came off your other leg, and Edward’s hands brushed yours as he started at the binding on your wrists. “No, you won’t,” he said. “I mean, finding the way, yes, you will. You already know it, your place has the same layout as this one. If I let you go now, you’d know exactly how to leave. But actually getting out—” Edward shook his head and sighed, and he cast his big green puppy-dog eyes up at you. “You don’t stand a chance.”

“You’re evil,” you told him, and he chuckled. “You’re a sick, disgusting, lonely little man, and the police will find you soon.”

“You’re right, y’know,” Edward said. The tape came off your last wrist, and your legs instinctually shot you out of your chair, but he grabbed you around the middle with his surprising strength and shushed you like a child when you screamed. When he spoke next, his mouth was right next to your ear, his hot breath making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “I am a sick, disgusting, lonely little man, but you still fucked me.” 

You thrashed against his grip as he carried you back into the bedroom, and he shoved you against the bed. Unlike the last time he did it, though, his anger was radiating hot off of him, and it made you feel sick to your stomach. You struggled as he sat you down on the bed, and he grabbed a roll of duct tape off of his belt and started to secure you to the bed frame. “Eddie, please,” you said, weakly trying to fight him. “Eddie, don’t do this, please—”

“Jesus Christ, I’m not gonna kill you,” Edward sighed. “Calm down. That doesn’t make any sense, why would I kill you? I love you, silly, I’m not gonna hurt you… Too badly, anyway.” 

“Is this what you do?” you asked, wincing as he pinched your skin between the rotations of duct tape. “Kill people, kidnap girls?” 

“I don’t make it a habit, if that’s what you mean,” Edward replied. “You’re the first girl, and Mitchell was my first kill.”

“I heard you say that you liked it,” you mumbled. “When you were on the phone.”

Edward nodded as he seemed to think, and he finally said, “It was terrifying, but it was such a rush. I felt lightheaded and like I wasn’t in control of my own body… It was a little bit like sex, actually. But I liked sex way more, you’re a lot prettier than Mitchell.”

“God, glad to know that,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes, and Edward finished with the tape, ripping it with his teeth. He started on your other hand, pausing to look at your face, and he put down the tape in favor of grabbing you by your chin. 

“You’re being a lot less combative than I anticipated,” Edward told you, his fingers digging into your jaw. “What’s wrong, princess?” 

Your stomach turned at the nickname (the same one that the Riddler had called you that night, the first night you kissed him, God how were you so blind?), and you said, “Nothing’s wrong. There’s just no use in fighting you right now when you can win. I’ll wait until you’re gone to try to escape.” 

Edward huffed out a laugh, and he placed a quick kiss on your lips before dropping your face from his grasp. “You’re funny,” he said. “Beautiful and funny and stupid. We’ll get along. Now, I’ll be back around 5:40 or so, I get off at five. Don’t try to run, because I’ll just find you. I know all your hiding places, everywhere you could possibly think to go. How long do you think I’ve been watching you? Just a guess.” 

“Long enough to get into my computer,” you sighed. “To sneak into my apartment when I wasn’t there. So, obviously, long enough to learn my routine to figure out when I’d be out… You knew just what to do to get into my pants; did you, like, watch me hook up with someone? It’s been months since I did that, a-and I’ve only done it once since I moved in.” 

“Twice,” Edward mumbled. “Once with that prick, and once with little old me. Is this your final answer? Months?” You nodded, swallowing hard, and Edward said, “I got into your computer the first day you moved in. You left your door open to go down to your moving truck, and I snuck in. Your computer was already open, I just had to do some quick snooping; you really should look into two-factor authentication, it’s a lifesaver—”

“Whatever,” you said firmly. “So it’s been ever since I moved in. How long have you been planning on killing the mayor?”

“I’ve been planning that for years,” Edward told you. “I never intended for you to become a part of this, but then you came to me and… You came into my life, and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve got a weakness for you, princess.” He snuck forward and pressed one more kiss to your forehead, and he added, “Be good. I’ll be back.” 

As soon as he left, even though your better judgment was telling you not to, you tried to escape. You were able to wriggle your hands out of the duct tape (leaving red burns and scrapes on your hands, but you’d take it if it meant you could leave), but you couldn’t even force yourself to leave. Whether he was lying or not, you didn’t know, but you had no doubt that he knew all of your hiding spots. Your friends’ apartments, your workplace, not even your favorite coffee shop was safe from him. He knew everything about you, and, if you tried to run, he would be quick to collect you. You were stuck in the dim apartment, no matter what. Escape was futile, and the thought of it made your legs weak. 

As you explored the apartment, you found yourself drawn back to his office, with the windows covered with newspaper clipping and photographs of the Wayne family. As you examined the diligent work, you found, amidst all the chaos, a certain picture of a small boy wearing glasses that were too big for his face, looking right at the camera. Edward had drawn a large question mark encircling the boy’s face and, next to him, he had written “If only I knew then… what I know now…”. You could see the similarities, the same nose and round face as your kidnapper, and you frowned at the picture. Edward as a child. What did he know now that he didn’t then? The truth about Gotham, as more writing on the wall said? But what truth? What was your city hiding that Edward knew?

You almost left the office, but a quick glance at Edward’s computer stopped you. It wasn’t the computer exactly, but the small picture frame next to it. It was no bigger than your hand, and you would have missed it, if it weren’t for the picture of you inside it. It seemed like it was taken in the dark with a flash, like from his cell phone, and it showed you asleep in bed, curled up with your pillow against your chest. You looked peaceful and beautiful, and, while you didn’t understand per se, you got it. Edward was lonely and, from what he knew about you (and, honestly, what wasn’t far off from the truth), you were too. He saw something in you that he liked and wanted, and he knew no other way to get you, so he scared you, forced you into his arms for safety and protection. You bet he was one of those types of guys that thought men were better than women, whatever they were called and ridiculed online. Maybe the only way you could truly gain his full trust was to play into his game. Even if one prison turned into another, maybe playing into his fantasy was the best possible thing for you. He loved you; why couldn’t you love him?

During the day, you worked. You tossed around ideas in your head all day (lest you say them out loud and whatever inevitable camera he had set up capture you mumbling out your plan) on what to say to Eddie when he returned home, and you went around the apartment and did what you could to make it homely, or at least make it look like you were settling in. You made the bed and did laundry, you wiped down counters and tables, and you smoothly shut the door to the office. That was his space, he could deal with that. By the time the front door opened at 5:40 on the nose, you were settled on the couch and absently reading from a novel that you had found thrown in the back of his closet. It was boring, but it wasn’t the content that mattered. You just needed to look comfortable, and, with your feet under you as sat, biting your thumbnail as you read, you looked as comfortable as possible. Your heart was racing as Eddie came into the apartment and stopped every movement to watch you, as if he were back doing his stalking routine. “Ed,” you sighed with a light chuckle. “You don’t have to linger in the shadows anymore.” 

“I like the shadows,” Eddie said with a shrug, finally shutting the door. “You look… Did you clean?” 

“It was a little dusty,” you told him. “It was making my allergies act up. But whatever.” You knew that your plan would take a long time to work— you couldn’t jump into the deep end immediately, he would know something was up— so you left your sentence at that. Short and snippy, but you cleaned. That had to amount to some level of confusion in Eddie’s head, right? A contradiction of acting the same but doing things differently?

“Right,” Eddie said slowly. “Well, I can’t stay long, I have to go do something—”

“Go do what?” you asked, putting down your book and turning to see him. He looked the same as when he left in the morning, only without his navy jacket, which he had hung up. 

“Riddler stuff,” Eddie said, and you frowned. 

“Ed,” you started. “This isn’t gonna work unless you talk to me. Okay?”

“What is this?” Eddie asked. 

“This relationship,” you said as you rolled your eyes, and Eddie’s eyes widened. “I need you to be honest with me, especially if you’re gonna go do something that could get you hurt.” 

“Relation…” Eddie began, and you sighed. 

“Jesus, isn’t this what you wanted?” you asked. “You wanted me, right? You’ve got me. Now, come kiss me hello or goodbye or whatever.” 

Eddie watched you for just a second more, gauging if you were being honest or not, and he quickly came over to you and sat down next to you. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before,” he said simply as you slunk yourself into his lap, straddling his waist. “I don’t really know what to do—” 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you said with a smile, and Eddie didn’t take a single second to negotiate. His hand came down on the back of your neck and he dragged you into a messy kiss, one that made you moan and tug at his pants. His tongue was slick inside your mouth as he adjusted himself on the couch, and you broke the kiss and whispered, “Do you really have to go so soon? I mean, at least stay for dinner.” 

“I really don’t have time, princess,” Eddie said, his hands smoothing up and down the back of your thighs. “I’ve got a tight schedule tonight—”

“You can’t spare ten minutes?” you asked. “Eddie, please? You’ve been gone all day.” 

“What is this?” Eddie asked, his hands pausing just below your ass. “This morning, you hated me, and now you’re begging me to stay for dinner? Whatever weird little plan you’ve got going on, it’s not gonna work.” 

“I know,” you sighed. “Listen, just… Hear me out, okay? I thought about it, and… And you’re right. I am stupid. I just… I mean, I’m not stupid, but there’s just so much I don’t know. The world is not… I’m not meant for it. I’m naïve and I trust people too easily, I’m not meant to be out in the world. But you; Eddie, you’re smart and you’re good with the world. You… Complete me.” You allowed yourself to swallow hard at the lie, even though you were trying your best to believe your own words, and you added, “It fuckin’ pains me to say it, but you know better than I do. That’s just a fact. And if you know better than me on so many things, then you know better about how I am the way I am. Like you said, beautiful and funny and stupid.” 

Eddie watched you as you explained yourself to him, his eyes curious behind his clear frames, and he finally gave a small nod. “I’m glad you can see that now. I guess I have a few minutes before I have to go; what’s for dinner?” 

A full week passed before you were beginning to wonder just how much of the lie you meant. It hadn’t taken long to fall into a semi-domestic routine with Eddie; he had taken you grocery shopping the day after he killed Commissioner Savage, one hand firm on your arm with the other tight around your waist. To any passerby, it looked like a sweet couple, but his tight grip nearly brought tears to your eyes. You would wake up every morning before him and make him breakfast and playfully fight with him about it— he claimed he didn’t eat breakfast, and you would coax him into at least a piece of toast— then send him to work with his lunch and a kiss. Every day, Eddie gave you the option of choosing where he restrained you, the couch or the bed, and you typically chose the couch, for no other reason than being able to see a little bit of Gotham outside the window. It was a bleak view, just of the Iceberg Lounge, which was dead in the middle of the day, but it was better than the brick wall that the bedroom faced. Then, at 5:40 on the dot every night, he’d come home from work and greet you with a kiss, and he'd slice off the duct tape from around your wrists and ankles that confined you to the couch, and he would help you cook dinner. Usually, your Eddie had business after dinner, Riddler-type shenanigans that you had asked him not to tell you about (the less you knew, the better), but when he would come home, sweaty and out of breath and incredibly horny, he would take you to bed. Some nights, he kept his blood-stained clothes on as he took you against the wall, but he often had the patience to undress before laying you down. One night, the night of the mayor’s funeral, when Eddie had called off work with a “stomach bug” and he had called the Batman, he couldn’t even wait to get the cling wrap and mask off before he forced you over his desk and fucked you. No matter how or when he fucked you, after he came, he always kissed your cheek and breathlessly whispered, “God, I love you.” 

“Where’re you going?” you asked as Eddie moved hurriedly around his apartment. He had been locked inside his office all day, having called off work again that morning— “Yeah, that bug, my girlfriend’s got it too now… I have leave hours I can use, I’m gonna stay home and take care of her… Yes, I have a girlfriend. Since—! Whatever.”— and not leaving, not even for lunch. As long as he was home, you weren’t taped to the furniture, and you were glad for the small dose of freedom. “Eddie, what’s going on?”

“You said you don’t wanna know about Riddler stuff,” Eddie told you. “So I won’t tell you.”

“Ed,” you frowned. “What’re you doing? Please, talk to me, you’re making me nervous.” 

Eddie stopped his pacing, adjusting the big green jacket on his frame. Him in the full get-up was terrifying, nothing but his intense, soulless eyes peeking through, and he had only the cling wrap and mask to complete the look. “Come here,” he said firmly, and he grabbed your arm hard and wrenched you up out of your seat. He practically dragged you down the hallway to the bedroom and nudged the door open with his shoulder as you protested the whole time— “Eddie, ow, that hurts! Let go of me! What do you want?”— and he finally threw you down into the office chair that he had the first night you were brought there, moved to be beside the window that you despised. This time, though, Eddie didn’t go for duct tape. From his jacket’s pocket, he extracted a small bag of zip ties, and he said, “I’m gonna make sure you’re safe.”

“Safe?” you repeated. “What the fuck?” 

You tried to fight against him, but Eddie seemed to have a short temper that night. He held your arm down as best as he could while he tried to zip tie your wrist to the chair arm, and he finally stopped and grabbed you by the chin. “Jesus, this again,” he sighed. “Stop fucking fighting. I don’t have a lot of time, just let me do this.”

“Explain to me what’s going on,” you pleaded. “Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“In about half an hour, there will be police here,” Eddie said quickly. His hands and voice shook, and he pushed his glasses back up his nose as he finally secured your first wrist and zipped it tight. “I won’t be here, but I want them to find you. I’ll be going to prison tonight, and you going with the police guarantees that you’ll be safe once those bombs go off and everyhting starts to flood.” 

None of what he had said to you sunk into your skin, but it took you long enough to really hear him that he was able to secure your other arm and both of your legs. “You’re gonna be arrested?” you asked. “Eddie, wait, no, y-you can’t—”

“It’s all part of my plan, princess,” Eddie told you gently, putting a hand to your cheek. The cold of his glove was biting, and you turned your face away, only for him to grab you harshly and turn your face back. “It has been since the beginning. But it’s okay, you’ll be safe. The police will arrest me, I’ll tell them to find evidence here, they’ll come and find you and they’ll take you into custody. You’ll be safe, I won’t let you get hurt.”

“What car bombs?” you asked. “What flood?”

“You told me not to tell you—”

“I want to know,” you told him firmly. “I deserve to know if you’re about to—”

Suddenly, Eddie sent a firm slap to your cheek, knocking you aside and forcing a moan of pain from your mouth. “You don’t deserve to know anything,” he told you. “You’re lucky I’ve been as nice to you as I have. I could have killed you the first night I saw you, you looked so beautiful and perfect, but I didn’t. I could have killed you while you slept, while you showered, fuck, I almost killed you last night. I want to kill you right now. But I haven’t, because I love you. I’m a fucking idiot and I love you, and I am doing what’s best for you! Can’t you see that? Everything I’ve done for you has been for you! All for you! And what do I get in return? You fuck me! God, you could think of a better way to thank me than your dumb, used-up, loose pussy! You dumb little whore, you never even thought of anything else, did you? The way you cry and beg for me to fuck you, did you even consider thanking me some other way?” 

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you sniffled as the pain fully set into your cheek and jaw. “Fuck you,” you whispered, and Edward grabbed at your hair, wrenching your head back. 

“That’s the fucking problem!” he exclaimed. “You have! But you’ve done nothing else! Have you even said thank you for rescuing you? Or were you so focused on my dick that you couldn’t form any other words?”

“Fuck you!” you sniffled. 

“Is that all that’s in your little brain?” Edward asked. “Just fucking me? Jesus, even now, you’re acting like a slut.”

“I just want to know,” you whimpered. “Eddie, I love you, if you’re about to get hurt, I want to know!” 

Edward stopped dead in his tracks, and he turned to you. “You love me?” he asked. “Really?” 

“Yes!” you cried. You couldn’t decide if the declaration was self-preservation or not, and it made you sick to think that maybe you weren’t lying, at least a little bit. “Just the same way you love me, you’d hurt me if it meant protecting me, I’d do the same with you. Please, Eddie, please just tell me what’s going on!” 

Edward watched you sniffle and cry for a few pathetic moments before he knelt down in front of you, his hand lightly touching the bruise he had made on your face. “I’m sorry, my love,” he said softly. “But I’m not telling you anything. If you don’t know, then the police can’t hurt you.”

Suddenly, it all came crashing in. Edward planned on being captured that night for his wrongdoings, and he was ensuring that you weren’t thought of as an accomplice. If it seemed like you had been held captive, the police would think you were a prisoner, and you wouldn’t be hurt. It was exactly the kind of mercy that only Edward could think of. “Eddie,” you sobbed. “Don’t leave me, please! We can figure this out together—”

“I have to go,” Edward told you, and he leaned forward and pressed the gentlest of kisses to your forehead. “Please be good. No escaping like you always do… Do this for me. Do it for us. I’ll get out one day and find you, okay? I love you.” 

“Eddie!” you cried, and, when he shut the door to the bedroom, everything was dark. “Eddie!”

You weren’t sure how long you were crying before you heard the front door bang open, and your sobbing only increased as doors opened and you heard shouts from police officers. Finally, they came to the end of the hall, to the bedroom, and you winced as the door opened and light flooded in. Everything was disorienting, loud and moving fast, and you couldn’t help but only cry as the police cut off your restraints. A blanket covered your shoulders and someone picked you up, and, in your hazy memory, you could see the square-cut jaw and black armor of the Batman. “Where’s Eddie?” you heard yourself mumble. “Please, where is he?” 

The only moment where you were fully present, not crying or sniveling, was in the police station. A kind man who introduced himself as Gordon sat across from you, and he offered you something to eat or drink, both of which you denied with a quick shake of your head. “Where’s Eddie?” you whimpered, swiping your fist under your running nose.

“Eddie?” Gordon asked. “Who is this? Another captive?”

“No, Eddie!” you insisted. “Um, Ed-Edward Nashton, he’s the one— He’s the Riddler, he took me, where is he?”

“You’re safe from him now,” Gordon told you gently. “Nashton will never hurt you again.”  

“No!” you sobbed. “I-I need him, he’s not, he never hurt me. He-He hit me once or twice but he never hurt me, he wouldn’t do that.”

Gordon regarded you quietly, trying to see if you were serious or not, and he asked, “Nashton’s nice to you?”

“Not nice,” you shrugged. “B-But he— Where is he? Is he okay? Did you hurt him?” 

“We have him in custody,” Gordon told you. “He was arrested for the murders of Mitchell, Savage, Colson, and Falcone. Did you know he was doing this?”

The list made your stomach turn, and you doubled over in your chair to keep from getting sick. Your Eddie. You couldn’t decide if you loved him or hated him, wanted him to rot in prison or be back in your arms. “I knew he was doing something,” you said slowly. “I knew he killed Mitchell. I didn’t watch the news and he didn’t tell me anything else.”

Gordon sighed. “When did Nashton abduct you?” he asked. 

“About a week ago,” you told him. “But he had been st… Stalking me for months. Hacked my computer, broke into my apartment…” It hurt to swallow, and you picked at your fingernails as you added, “He loves me. A-And I love him, it just took me a while to see that. I needed him to-to show me how much I love him, and he did. I-If I had just listened to him the first time, all those months ago when he first hacked my computer, we could have been happy this whole time. This whole time…” 

“Do you know anything else about his plan?” Gordon asked. “If he loved you, maybe he told you something.”

“I-I didn’t want to know,” you told him. “I don’t like blood, i-it makes me sick. I told him not to tell me about whatever he was doing. B-But he mentioned… Earlier tonight… Something about bombs. I don’t know, he was… He was tying me up, I didn’t hear it too well. Bombs and… And a flood.” 

“Bombs and a flood,” Gordon repeated. “You’re doing good, okay? Is there anything else you can tell us?” 

You shook your head and sighed. Even if he had said more, you couldn’t find any of it in your memory. The only thing you could remember at that moment was the night Edward took you, the way he had held you and kissed you so tenderly. You had no idea back then. But he was gentle to you and he didn’t hurt you. He had only ever wanted you, and he had gotten you. He succeeded in every single thing he said he would do, even up to the part where he was arrested. If he didn’t want you to know something, he would succeed in not letting you know. You couldn’t help yourself as a laugh slipped from your mouth. “You’re never gonna find it all,” you whispered. “Everything you need to put him down. You’ll never find it.” 

“What do you mean?” Gordon asked. 

You laughed again, and you looked up at the older man. “He’s good at what he does,” you said. “If he wanted something, he got it. And he doesn’t want you to know, so you won’t. You’ll never know. And when those bombs go off… God, you’re gonna wish you had known what my baby was doing. You’ll wish that your officers were better than some man in a costume.” A smile slipped across your face, and you said, “What’s the matter, Gordon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost,” Gordon replied, and you smiled. 

“Eddie said the same thing to me.”