#read: everybody is dying lol
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Me reading The Carrow Haunt: Damn, this house is eating people like french fries.
#Spoilers in tags#so I'm at the part where Taj says he's gonna run across the bridge#Me: (Sandy Cheeks voice) No you ain't#boy you gonna DIE#this novel is verrrry different from Gallows Hill#read: everybody is dying lol#I was hoping for less horror fodder and more solving mysteries#oh well#darcy coates#the carrow haunt#novels#reading#funny#farona reads#tw swearing#tw food mention
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𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐩 (𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩) | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧
summary: a random man breaks your phone and runs away before you can even yell at him. he becomes your archenemy when you learn that you lost hundreds of photos of your children. and by “your children”, you mean pups—seal pups.
pairing: alex albon x seal specialist! fem!black!reader
from, serene: do not post any gifts you get on social media. that's how people get robbed /srs. i'm trying to make my reader's have different personalities but i think i failed with this one. i'll try on the next smau. happy reading, loves xxx
⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc | next ↻
messages • yn -> coral (yn’s coworker)
twitter • alex_albon
twitter • sealteamsix
messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex
twitter dm’s • alex -> yn
messages • yn -> coral
twitter dm’s cont. • alex -> yn
messages cont. • yn -> coral • alex -> max please unmute us gc
igstory • seallygirlyn just uploaded!
[caption1; optimus prime being a very brave boy while being weighed][caption2; cutely decorated suspicious packages are about to be unboxed. if i'm inactive just know alex_albon is responsible!]
alex_albon: his name is optimus prime 🥹🤧 seallygirlyn: it's adorable right? seallygirlyn: when he first got rescued he was fighting with another pup named megatron, so the naming was easy lol
coral: that looks like a lot more than an iphone 🤨 seallygirlyn: i told him to keep it reasonable! but i fear he went too far,,,
user: wow he was really serious about finding you. lwk kinda sweet. it's giving loverboy. 🤭 seallygirlyn: loll don’t read to far into it! he’s just a generous guy ☺️ user: if you say so….
messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm’s • yn -> alex
instagram • seallygirlyn • august 26th
liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, coral, and 17,364 others
seallygirlyn when you ask a man to replace your phone that he broke, he might buy you the newest phone and a bunch of other things (you told him not to get !!) you can't buy my favor, yk? fish says thank you for the stuffie. thank you from me too, alex_albon. this is seriously too much to give for a broken iphone.
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seallygirlyn: going to miss using a flip phone lwk...tysm alex_albon i made it look all pretty in the basket in hopes it fixes your lightly ruined public image
➥ alex_albon: am i forgiven? ➥ seallygirlyn: i already forgave u alex, i told you this 🙂 ➥ alex_albon: just wanted you to say it where everybody can see it! they're still slandering my name ➥ seallygirlyn: you can replace my phone and my dying ipad but, you can never recover my lost seal photos :( ➥ alex_albon: i will pay for your icloud storage from this point forward until my dying breath ➥ seallygirlyn: i need that in writing with a signature ✍️
coral: i told you alex is a good guy! that's why he's been my favorite since f2!!!
➥ seallygirlyn: he's been moved from biggest adversary to occasional nemesis status ➥ alex_albon: that's improvement, i'll take it! thanks for supporting me from before the start, coral! dedicating my next points to both of you! ➥ coral: imgoingtofaint 😵💫
georgerussell63: ah. this must be why alex made me pay for his mcdonalds the other day. he spent all of his money on you
➥ alex_albon: GEORGE PLEASE 😟😣 ➥ user1: george is such an instigator. he lives to stir shit up i swear ➥ user2: russell, george. professional cockblocker extraordinaire.
user3: it's a little odd that a man would buy a woman he has no romantic interest in so many expensive gifts....
➥ user4: lol these gifts aren't expensive. the cost was nothing to him, he's an f1 driver and she's nothing compared to him 😒 ➥ user5: jealous little girl alert user4 🚨 ➥ user6: she's nothing compared to him? the woman who works tirelessly to rehabilitate seal pups and release them back into the ocean—the woman who's actively conserving the ocean and protecting marine life, is nothing compared to him? the man who drives an f1 car in circles? try again, girly. you're just jealous any RESPECTABLE man wouldn't give you the time of day. ➥ user7: CLOCK IT ➥ user8: read you like a book user4 🤣
user9: you have an orange cat named fish 🥺
➥ seallygirlyn: yes! isn't he the sweetest boy to ever exist? ➥ user9: i'd kill for fish 🫶🏻
user12: fish and his stuffie are the cutest!!!! i just wanna bite him
➥ alex_albon: not as cute as seallygirlyn ➥ seallygirlyn: ...who asked you? are you calling fish ugly?? ➥ alex_albon: what? NO !!! i was calling you cute?! ➥ user13: that was difficult to read ngl ➥ user14: mission failed. we'll get 'em next time.
general taglist (ask to join):
@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool
@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea
@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification
@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/
@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25
@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134
@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking
seal you later taglist (ask to join):
@poppysrin@everythingabby101@mangotaitai
© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.
#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 x black!reader#alex albon x reader#alex albon smau#alex albon x black!reader#alex albon fanfic#alex albon fluff#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#alex albon x you#alex albon imagine#alex albon x y/n#serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚。⋆. series special: formula 1#♡ ༘*.゚ love interest: aa.
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May I request Alpha!Kanto Mikey taking his S/O to a gang meeting (cause we know he's not leaving them alone just for a meeting 🙄🙄) all his executives are probably not even allowed to look when the S/O's around LOL
If you want to you can definitely add some spice 🙏🏻🙏🏻
Your writing is so good every time I read anything you write my heart goes 💕💕💞💞
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
୨୧ yandere! alpha! mikey x omega! reader
— mikey taking his omega with him during a gang meeting
my masterlist : ☆
(not my best and I made it yandere + the spice isn't that spicy, I hope you don't mind though:/)
YANDERE! ALPHA! MIKEY (kanto era)
mikey had developed a deep fear of leaving you alone. he isn't particularly expressive, but his thoughts are constantly assaulting him with horrible scenes of his loved ones dying and he'd rather die himself than let that happen to his omega.
you're very precious to mikey, indispensable and a necessity. he forces you to be by his sides at all time, ordering you to inform him whenever you want to go somewhere on your own -if he even lets you-.
gang meetings at night were a regular thing, mikey used to lock you up inside his room whenever he had to leave for one of them. but after you accidentally dropped a vase and hurt yourself to the point of bleeding, mikey was against that idea.
he brought you everywhere, demanding respect from his members for you. everybody knew who you were, despite never having once talked to you. you were like a precious doll people could only admire from afar, your guardian mikey being the only one allowed to consider you as more than an untouchable jewel.
you didn't know what mikey did that you sparked fear in the eyes of every man present. was it the scent of your alpha lingering on you, the way his eyes seemed to bore a hole into their head whenever they did as much as look at you? you didn't know, but they all kept their distance with you. the bravest only stealing weak glances your direction, while never actually approaching you. was it out of respect or out of fear for mikey? you weren't sure.
during the meeting, mikey kept you close to him. he towered over everyone at his usual spot, looking down at his members. you had a special spot next to him, on top of the stairs. you had to sit quietly, waiting for mikey to finish talking, all sweet and docile.
you mindlessly munched on the snacks mikey had bought you beforehand, to make the wait less boring. he knew you weren't that pleased to be here, but he was glad you didn't put much of a fight and just listened to him.
as you watched him, his back in front of you, you wondered how he could get so sweet sometimes. he, who was so fierce and menacing, feared by others gangs and even his own members. you liked the gentleness he showered you with whenever it was the two of you.
after those kind of meetings, mikey was always enthusiastic about showing you how much he cared and how he will never let anyone have you.
your exposure to the hungry eyes of other alphas always seems to spark a surge of possessiveness. how dare they look at you that way. mikey can only imagine the kind of thoughts they have upon seeing his precious omega. even with all his warnings, there still are reckless alphas who think they're worth more than you. who don't believe mikey would beat them up to a pulp just to ensure his omega's dignity and comfort are untouched.
mikey will send the others off at the end of that meeting. barking commands at them to leave the fastest they can, and they'll be left wondering who annoyed their leader. because despite mikey's temperament, he doesn't get mad pointlessly. he most usually acts on impulse whenever his omega is involved, so it isn't hard to guess what could have pissed him off if you pay attention to his reactions.
after everyone's gone, mikey is dragging you far into the temple, making you drop your snacks on the ground in the process. you can protest all you want but mikey doesn't care.
he pins you against of wall once he's sure you're both safe from any potential curious eye. he buries his head roughly into your neck, his nose nudging your scent gland, searching for the spot which lets out the sweetest scent. he's pestering your jawline with wet kisses, slowly travelling down your neck and softly bites your collarbone. you whine, gripping his blonde hair and abandoning yourself to him, completely at his mercy.
with dark eyes and wet lips, he finally looks at you, giving one last deep kiss to your panting mouth.
"I can't stand how they're looking at you, should just gouge their eyes out"
you laugh softly, knowing that despite his impulsive nature, he wouldn't act so cruelly, "don't, or you'll soon have no one else attending your meetings"
"might be better this way, nobody will ever bother us, and they won't watch so carelessly what's mine anymore", he continues his assault on your skin, drawing a few moans out of you. he makes sure to leave red marks, putting his claim on you as if it wasn't already clear that you were his.
he relishes the sighs of pleasure you let out. he feels proud and satisfied to be the one eliciting such vulnerable and intimate reactions out of you.
that's right, you were his omega only, and those alphas could look at you all they want, but in the end, mikey was the one able to touch you this way, to play out any fantasy he had while the others could only dream.
you were his to own and possess, mikey had put his claim on you and from that moment onward, you had nowhere else to return to if not his arms. mikey will always make sure you'll stay with him, safe and sheltered. he'll give all the affection he has to give, all the love he can provide. and you'll love him despite his fucked up self and suffocating embrace.
"you know you're mine, don't you? you're such a pretty little thing, love you so fucking much baby"
#cannelle★#omegaverse tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers a/b/o#a/b/o tokyo revengers#alpha tokyo revengers#hybrid tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers hybrid#tokyo revengers omegaverse#tokyo revengers x reader#anime omegaverse#omega!reader#omegaverse anime#tokyo revengers imagines#tokyo revengers headcanon#omega tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#tokyorev x reader#tokyo revengers yandere headcanons#tokyo revengers yandere#yandere tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers yandere omegaverse#tokyo revengers omegaverse imagines#mikey fluff#alpha mikey imagines#smut mikey#mikey x reader#alpha mikey#mikey omegaverse#sano mikey omegaverse
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skin on skin
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader
GENRE ➩ religious corruption au, church boy jake au, evil reader
WARNINGS ➩ heavy criticism of religion in an extreme exaggerated manner, manipulation, multiple smut scenes, the mc is straight up mean and evil and says mean things all the time lol. parental and spousal abuse… think that’s it maybe lol it’s an intense read
WC ➩ 20.4k (😵💫)
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ the spacing is a bit weird because apparently this exceeded the length amount in tumblr… i don’t care about your think pieces on religion or the way it’s discussed in this so please don’t try to educate me on the actual ways of christianity! it’s a story! that being said this is in no way making a mockery of jake and his religion. this is my favorite story ive ever done and i had a good time writing it which is rare lately so i really hope you enjoy it and if you make it to the end let me know what you think! hope you like it as much as i do
It wasn’t like you came out of the womb with horns and a little forked tail.
The nurses didn’t scream in terror and your mother didn’t faint at the sight of you, it wasn’t some grand discovery that anybody could see or anybody could plan for.
You made it through your formative years relatively normal, or at least as normal as you could be considering who your father was. But it wasn’t until middle school when you realized how different kids would treat you because of this.
Those were your favorite years you could remember. The half decade before anybody cared, or knew enough to care, what it meant for you to be who you were. Then you were old enough to have consciousness and design your own set of morals, something all the parents in your town dreaded.
Your town was barely that, more so a few neighborhoods sprawled across barren lands with more fields and trees than concrete and signs of the modern world that had seemingly developed everywhere, except for where you’d been born.
Sometimes you wondered if you’d been cursed to stay here forever. It seemed like everybody who was born here, died here, but unlike you they all seemed pretty content with this fact. Proud even, the elders stating the amount of years and generations they’d own their rusty old homes like it didn’t create a nasty pit in your stomach.
Time was frozen and the world had moved on, leaving all 2,000 of you behind to die and birth and die again until eventually the last generation killed themselves off in an act of sympathy, a mercy slaughter.
It was probably immoral to be thinking about your entire town dying whilst in church. But you didn’t think much about the implication of having sinful thoughts anywhere, regardless of how many crosses were currently burning stares into your back.
More than 70% of your life was spent inside these four walls, on this exact weathered seat on this same old pew.
See, when turned 12 years old and the kids at school made you aware of the fact your dad was the lead preacher at the only church in town, you figured this made you some sort of royalty.
Not once did you feel the overwhelming holy presence of god that everybody else seemed to be experiencing everyday after school and work when you all settled in together to listen to your fathers teachings.
You’d sit with a scowl on your face, turning around in the front row pew reserved for the preachers family and you’d observe the people around you. You knew everybody in your town, some more than others, but you always thought people looked different when they prayed.
The nice man who worked at the grocery store looked far more guilty and weathered with his eyes closed and the angry woman two blocks away who yelled at the kids riding their bikes too close to her sprinklers, looked peaceful like she was talking to an old friend.
Your mother would hiss under her breath in an attempt to catch your attention, sending soft pinches to your thighs until you’d begrudgingly turn back in your seat and plop down in your puffy dress, tuning out the sound of your fathers loud voice.
Looking back on it now, your mother seemed to notice the dark parts of you brewing before you even did. The two of you never saw eye to eye and despite the fact you were her only child, much to her dismay considering they tried for years after your birth to have another but to no avail, she never treated you with any sort of motherly warmth or kindness.
She’d glare at you from across the dinner table while her and your father conjoined hands and thanked the lord for the meal that your mother had cooked. You’d started to sit on your hands at dinner when you were 7 years old and what once was a cute misbehaving habit quickly became the warning sign of your future endeavors.
Still, part of being the preachers family was playing an act. So you’d all get up early in the mornings and wordlessly move around the house like the backstage of a play, dressing the part and giving bright smiles to each family that walked through the doorway on Sunday morning.
Your mother would stand behind you with a long stretched out smile, hands on your thin shoulders as she dug her nails down every time she felt you tense up at a greeting.
Then you were 16 and for the first time in your life, you heard her voice the thing you’d always assumed she believed. You stood in the hallway in your nightgown, standing stiff as a board to avoid the creaking wood of your old house, peering around a dimly lit corner to hear your parents conversation more clearly.
“She hasn’t done anything wrong Mary.” Your fathers rough low voice was flowing in your direction, sounding tired and agitated. You could vaguely hear the sounds of his rough hands rubbing over his unshaven scruff in frustration.
“She will.” Your mother sounded panicked and alert, desperate for him to understand her case. “I can’t explain it but she has this darkness in her, I’ve felt it ever since I was pregnant.”
Your breath caught in your throat as they spoke, understanding now they were referring to you. You were only slightly surprised, no grand feelings of fear or betrayal arising.
That nights conversation had ended with your mother in a fit of tears and your father uttering words of reassurance in an attempt to calm her down as you used the sounds of her loud sobs to sneak back to your room, getting under the covers and blowing out the candles by the time your father was opening your door to insure you were in bed.
He’d stood there for a few minutes, the door cracked with his hand on the knob. Do this day you wondered what he was waiting for. Maybe he was expecting you to talk in your sleep or he was trying to get some sense of the evil your mother was spewing about, but eventually you heard his tired sigh and the door shutting.
It’d been three years now since that conversation and you still hadn’t fully understood the evil your mother was referring to. You didn’t believe in god, that much had been clear to you from a very early age but you didn’t believe in the devil either.
You didn’t feel things maybe you should be feeling, sadness when an elder passed away unexpectedly or happiness when a new baby was born into the community. You didn’t feel pain when your mother shot you looks of disgust and you only felt slight jolts of satisfaction when she leapt in fear every time you entered a quiet room.
The seed of evil that was apparently inside of you never bloomed, no matter how much you waited for its arrival.
Until the day the Sim’s arrived to town.
It was extremely rare for somebody to move out of your hometown, and you’d been instructed to never speak about the families that left, to let yourself forget their names and faces. Forget any interaction you’d had with them now that they were gone.
But you’d never once contemplated the fact that it was possible to move here willingly. It hadn’t occurred to you that somebody would choose this place to live and that they’d be allowed to stay peacefully, and especially not given a grand welcome.
So you felt yourself uncharacteristically thrown off guard as you found yourself at church on a Saturday, typically your only day you weren’t required to be here. You’d spend these days down by the creek or riding around the abandoned section of town on your bike, trying to find something interesting to see.
As you stood near the stage, where your fathers podium was perfectly centered and polished, greeting the usual faces with a forced smile, your eyes landed on the most interesting sight you’d ever seen.
The Sim’s were a direct mirror of your family as they stood in front of you. Only three of them, a tall man giving your father a sturdy handshake and laughing like old friends and a small meek woman who was holding your mothers hand in both of hers, a thankful smile on her face.
Placed directly in front of you was a boy, seemingly your age, shifting back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to initiate any form of greeting.
There was people your age in town, your graduating class held 25 kids and over half of them were girls, daughters that were considered blessings for their special ability to continue on your towns population. You’d met boys, few handsome but handsome none the less but nobody who looked like the one standing in front of you.
He was taller than you, peering down at you from behind thin framed glasses and about double your width. You imagined you were hidden behind his shoulders to the view of the people stood in line behind him, waiting to greet your family.
His skin was tanned, something that you imagined wouldn’t last long considering you weren’t sure your town was blessed by the sun at all, almost constantly grey and dreary looking even in the peak of summer.
You took your time observing the boy, not feeling any sense of urgency at the knowledge people were watching and waiting, not even at the fact your mother was stood directly next to you and you could feel her stare on the side of your face. Her loss of attention seemed to make the boys mother nervous and she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“And this is our son, Jake.” She was chirping out and you almost wanted to laugh at how desperate she seemed to impress your family. The boy, Jake, was looking at you still for a second before his eyes shot to your mother and he gave her a nervous smile. “He’s shy at first but he’s a very good boy.”
His eyes flicked back over to yours as she spoke and your mouth quirked up in a small smile, finally sticking out your hand in offering to him.
You felt a strange feeling build up inside you, splattering against your ribs and painting your insides with something deep and powerful. As you held his hand in yours, your eyes caught onto your mothers and you could see the fear crossing over her expression at her own realization.
“Hi Jake.”
And the seed bloomed.
——
It wasn’t more than 30 seconds after your father finished his last word, the remains of it still echoing throughout the room underneath the chorus of ‘amen’s, that your mother was gripping your arm and dragging you back into his office space.
She closed the door swiftly and you yanked your arm out of her grip with a scowl, staring at her for an explanation about her sudden behavior despite having a slight inkling of what she was about to say to you.
“You can’t.” She spoke vaguely, an angry desperation in her voice like you were a feral dog with a hungry look in its eye.
“What are you talking about?” You lowered your agitation, doing your best impression of a confused and fearful daughter. She scoffed at your expression and held a hand to her mouth like she was genuinely amazed at your audacity.
“You leave that boy alone Y/N, or so help me God.” She was shaking her head at you and you felt a surge of annoyance at her tone, her voice shaky and weak.
You thought she was slightly pathetic. She’d spent her entire life treating you like the devil, implying your evil and avoiding you at all cost but the second you finally start to understand her concern and she’s immediately turned to pleading and bargaining. There was no fun in this for you.
Soft knocks against the door caught her attention and she looked over your shoulder, trying to ignore the fact you were still staring at her and not bothering to turn and face whoever had entered.
“Go home and get dinner started.” Your fathers voice was entering the room now in a hushed whisper, like somebody was still outside behind him. “We are going to have a welcome meal with the new residents.”
Your mothers eyes shot back in your direction at his words, like she was begging you to remember her previous warning and you offered her a small smirk before turning to face your father with a toothy grin, expression changing now.
“Of course father, whatever you need.”
——
You’d ignored your mothers glare the entire time you worked on dinner together, setting the table casually and changing into a less formal dress that gained a thumbs up of approval from your father.
When the Sim’s arrived, you greeted them similarly to how you did at church except your mother made sure to shake Jake’s hand for a prolonged amount of time so you couldn’t, only breaking apart when your father cleared his throat and ushered you all towards the polished dining room.
He took his seat at the head of the table and you briefly wondered what type of man Jake’s father was. He was larger than your dad, much larger and you noticed a hint of irritation in his face when he took a seat on the side. You imagined he sat similarly to your father at his own house and didn’t find great pleasure in the new arrangement.
There was three seats on each side and your mother had rushed to take a middle seat next to you, attempting to block anybody else from being seated beside you.
However your father cleared his throat subtly and sent the both of you a small glare, confused at the fact she hadn’t adorned her usual seat next to him. You were sure he realized it would be strange for her to sit a seat away from him, making them look distant or troubled.
She sent you a small angry look but shifted over a space so she was now sat in her usual place, leaning an empty chair between the two of you.
An empty chair that was soon taken by Jake, his mother sending him an encouraging smile and giving him a slight nudge in your direction. You remembered what she said about him being shy, not hiding the fact she was trying to create a friendship between the two of you.
His mothers face angered you more than your own. She was small and weak looking, constantly smiling with wide eyes like she was waiting to drop into a conversation at any time to force a connection, yet she rarely did throughout dinner. For the most part she stayed silent, nodding along obediently every time her husband spoke.
So you kept your attention on the boy for the most part, figuring the adults were too busy kissing eachothers ass’s to care about what the two silent teenagers were doing at the end of the table.
You knew he could feel the way you were watching him, sending you small glances out of the side of his eye and shifting uncomfortably in his seat every time he realized you were still looking.
He really was handsome you were deciding. You’d never really paid attention to boys before, understanding the difference between being attractive and not but it didn’t have any affect on you. You liked the slope of his nose and the way his throat bobbed with every nervous gulp he took.
Your father was seemingly noticing your mutual disinterest in the conversation, you watching Jake and him watching his empty plate. “Y/N honey, why don’t you take Jake to your room and show him some of your notes on our latest teachings.”
Both of your heads turned towards him as he said this, your eyes lighting up with excitement and Jake’s widening slightly.
“Oh..” His mother was starting and you resisted the urge to glare in her direction. “Jake isn’t… he’s never..”
Jake’s father sent her a sharp look and she snapped her mouth shut immediately, looking away from him. Your excitement only doubled as you realized she wasn’t comfortable leaving her son alone with a girl, leading you to believe he never had been before.
“Of course father.” You smiled at him softly, standing and flattening out your dress in a prudish manner. Jake glanced in your direction as you stood, clumsily rising out of his own chair as you headed up the stairs and down the hall to your room.
He followed wordlessly behind, still not speaking even when you stood in the doorway and let him awkwardly squeeze past you so he was stood stiffly in the center of your room. You closed the door behind you and he froze, eyes widening again.
“What are you doing?” His voice was high with worry and you realized it was your first time hearing him speak.
“What are you talking about?” You played dumb as you observed him, walking backwards until your legs hit your bed and you could sit carefully. He stayed standing as he watched you with confusion and worry.
“Mother says not to close doors.” He was shaking his head and it looked like he wanted to go and open it himself. He didn’t move however and you leaned back to rest on your hand, cocking your head in his direction.
“Do you always do what mommy says?” You questioned.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your condescending tone. You’d seemed nice enough at church and dinner, not speaking much but polite to your parents whenever you did. He was suddenly worried he had angered you.
“I guess she did say you were a good boy.” You quoted what his mother had said when she introduced him, voice carrying a faint mocking tone as you spoke.
He didn’t say anything after you said that, just standing there looking at you like you were some form of animal he’d never seen before. And maybe he hadn’t you were beginning to think, his speech was structured and tight like he was reciting lines and you were curious if he’d ever had a conversation with somebody his own age.
Your hand reached over to pat the bed next to you, raising an eyebrow at him and urging him to sit.
He watched you with that same look for a few seconds before looking back at the door like he was contemplating how fast he’d have to bolt out of it before you could sink your claws into him. He seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, crossing the room and sitting down as far away from you as he could possibly get.
“Where’d you come from?” You didn’t plan to say that but the curiosity was driving you crazy, not quite understanding how he could be so sheltered.
“A village not far from here.” He was eventually answering with a soft shrug. He was sat perfectly straight on your bed, posture making him look even taller than he already was considering you were still leaned back on your palm.
You should’ve figured he was from a village, suddenly understanding why his mother was practically a house wife from the 1800’s and his dad looked relatively similar to a lumberjack.
“No girls at your village?” You were watching the side of his face as you questioned him, growing slightly agitated that he wasn’t looking at you. “Jake.”
He turned his face towards you when you addressed him, eyes widening like he was worried you were going to scold him from the sound of your stern call.
“I asked you a question.” When he didn’t immediately answer you assumed he hadn’t heard you, repeating yourself. “Was there no girls where you’re from?”
He was shaking his head swiftly, looking at his hands and then back towards you. “None like..”
“None like me?” You interrupted him as he started to trail off and your lips quirked into a smile. “So no pretty girls then.”
He frowned as you hummed and nodded your head like you’d made sense of what he was trying to say. He didn’t look like even he understood what the things you were saying meant and you almost pitied him as you slowly unlocked the full extent of his naivety.
“You’ve probably never even held hands with a girl right?” You kept your tone sweet despite your intentions.
He looked like he only slightly relaxed at your change of tone, glancing at you as he shook his head as a way to answer your question. He didn’t understand why you wanted to know this.
You were sitting back up straight, off your hands, and leaning sideways to get closer to him. He watched you with panicked eyes as you reached down near his lap and took his hand in yours, similarly to how you shook it at the church but the tension in the room was a direct opposite.
He made a strange noise when you touched him, a semi squeak at the suddenness of your contact and you smiled at him, scooting closer so you weren’t awkwardly stretching your arm in his direction.
“How does it feel?” You murmured, fighting the urge to lean against him and whisper in his ear. You didn’t want to scare him off just yet.
“I don’t think I should be in here.” He was shaking his head as he spoke and staring down at your conjoined hands or maybe the floor past them. They were resting in his lap, the back of your hand on his right thigh.
You frowned softly although he wasn’t looking at you, trying to keep up with your act. He seemed to be more pliant earlier when he thought he had upset you. “Jake.”
He glanced at you as you said his name, just like he had before, and his gaze looked guilty when he noticed the frown on your face. You squeezed his hand to try to bring his attention back to the fact you were touching him but he shook his head again.
“I really need to go Y/N.” He was still trying to sound polite despite his obvious discomfort and you almost smiled at the innocence of that.
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You let a small whine sink into your tone, really trying to drive home the idea that he was upsetting you and you felt him squeeze your hand absentmindedly.
He didn’t reply after you said that and the room fell into a strange silence. Then he was sending a heavy glance in your direction and your mouth parted in realization, understanding his inner monologue by the thick amount of guilt in his expression.
“You do want me to touch you.” You let your smile show now, not finding any reason to hide it now that he clearly took your bait. He squeezed his eyes shut as you said this and shook his head again, his hair messy now and falling into his face.
“What’s wrong Jake?” You were almost cooing at him, your hand sliding out of his and up his wrist, in result the back of your hand going further up his thigh. You kneaded at his wrist bone and he grunted at the almost painful sensation. “It’s just skin.”
He looked at you with a frustrated expression, holding eye contact for a few seconds much to your surprise. You were almost worried he was going to cry. You didn’t mind it personally, if anything you were thinking about how pretty he’d look with watery eyes and a red nose, but you imagined it would cause some level of concern with the parents.
So you released your grip on his wrist, taking your hand back and placing it on your own lap. You were still sitting far too close to him but he visibly relaxed at the lack of touch, however slightly confused why you had backed off.
Almost like the world had been paused for the entirety of your conversation and now played again, a soft knock on your door caused you to leap away from him and grab the bible your father insisted was kept on your nightstand at all times.
You were relieved to see his face when the door opened, knowing your mother would have most likely immediately sniff out what you’d been doing. Or at least attempting to do.
Your father looked between the two of you and the large space, nodding in approval when you flashed him a smile and opened to a random page in the book. He didn’t seem to notice how tense Jake was or the fact your door had been closed in the first place.
“Your parents are leaving Jake. You can stay a bit longer if you two are having fun.” Your father was saying in a welcoming voice but Jake was hopping off your bed before he even had a chance to finish.
“No, sir. Thank you but I really should get home and finish unpacking.” He was stumbling over his words and awkwardly shifting in place, waiting for your dad to move out of the doorway so he could make his escape.
Your dad shot you a confused look over Jake’s shoulder and you gave him a small shrug, fighting the urge to smile.
——
Guilt was eating Jake alive the entire ride home. He wasn’t quite sure what he had necessarily done wrong, what level of sin he had just committed, but his mother kept shooting him disappointed looks in the mirror.
“Will you stop looking at the boy like that.” His fathers gruff voice was mumbling from the drivers seat and his mom snapped her eyes back to the front window obediently. “It’ll be good for him to make a friend.”
“What type of girl leads a boy to her bedroom?” He was surprised his mother had spoken again, especially in the harsh tone she was using. She must’ve been angry enough at you and your behavior to forget the fear she held for Jake’s father.
He felt a bit strange as she said that. You were definitely weird and had made Jake feel something he’d never experienced, and he positively wanted to leave your room as quick as possible but he didn’t think you deserved such a mean comment.
He continued to feel strange for the rest of the night.
Jake laid in bed, hours past his usual bed time, and replayed your interaction in his head. Every time he got to the part where you grabbed his wrist in your tight hold, he squeezed his eyes shut and asked god to forgive him.
He could feel his stomach light up when he thought about your hand on his pants and he wanted to dig his nails into the skin as a self punishment for the thoughts brewing in his head, thoughts he had never had before and didn’t understand.
Rolling over in his bed, stomach to the mattress, he stuffed his face into his pillow and cried softly until he eventually fell asleep.
——
You felt giddy in the church pew the next morning after seeing Jake walk in with his parents. You immediately knew your plan had worked judging by his puffy face and swollen eyes. He’d clearly gotten no sleep and you could take a strong guess at the reason why.
A sick part of you was ecstatic at the fact you had something to do, something that actually managed to catch your interest.
If all it took to keep Jake up all night was you touching his hand, than you were preparing for more fun than you originally thought.
The morning had gone routinely as you remained in your seat for the entire sermon, not spinning around to try to catch a look at the boy despite the urge constantly in the back of your mind. You didn’t focus for a second but you did a solid job pretending until you heard a hushed voice behind you excusing themself.
You snuck a glance back to see Jake passing through his pew with muttered apologies and thanks to the people he was passing, smiling softly at them.
You watched him exit the pew and make his way down the main aisle, no doubt heading towards the bathroom hall since it was the only other part of the building outside of your fathers head office. You let him disappear from your sight and counted to 30 before abruptly standing and following his path before your mother could grab your hand in denial.
By the time you made it to the hall, Jake was exiting the bathroom with damp hands and a few wet strands of hair like he had splashed his face in an attempt to wake up.
His eyes widened when he saw you approaching and he glanced behind him like he was considering disappearing back into the bathroom so you couldn’t say anything to him. You smiled at this but didn’t move closer to him, leaning against the wall.
“What are you doing?” He watched you with careful eyes, not quite sure what you wanted.
You shrugged and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are you doing? You look tired, did you not get any sleep?”
He didn’t say anything as he looked at you, eyes heavy and guilty again like he was afraid you could read his mind. Unlucky for him, you didn’t have to read his mind to know what was happening in it.
“Were you thinking about me?” You pushed forward on his suspicions when he didn’t respond to you, tilting your head as you looked at him.
He didn’t respond again, letting out a small tired exhale before leaning against the wall opposite of you. The hallway was tensioned despite not being close enough to touch even if you stretched your arm out.
“I was thinking about you.” You suddenly confessed in an attempt to catch his interest or potentially get him to lower his walls enough for a solid conversation. It seemed to work considering his head was snapping up and he was looking at you with wide questioning eyes. “Is thinking a sin?”
He watched you for a few seconds, slightly embarrassed that you had somehow realized what his inner dilemma lead back to.
“Yes.” He answered matter of factly and you let out a small laugh.
You observed the way his lips awkwardly quirked up, like he was pleased he made you laugh despite being dead serious in his answer. His smile pulled at his cheeks for a second and you liked the way he nervously wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.
“What… what were you thinking about?” He squeezed the words out like they were painful after a silence fell between the two of you. You felt a bud of satisfaction at the fact he’d been curious enough to ask.
“Touching you.” You shrugged like it was a casual thing to say, watching his shoulders tense and his mouth part slightly in shock and disapproval.
“My hand?” You were a bit surprised that he asked a follow up question, voice dropping into a scared whisper like he was worried somebody was eavesdropping, maybe he was worried god could hear him.
You were watching him for a few uncomfortable beats, liking the way his cheeks turned red and he kept looking away from your gaze anxiously. Then you were shaking your head to answer his question, taking a step closer to his side of the hall.
His breath hitched as you kept taking small strides in his direction, taking your time with a loose smile on your face like you were out for a casual walk. You stopped next to him, turning and pressing your back against the wall he was leaned on so your shoulders were pressing together.
You wondered if he was planning to hold his breath the entire time you were touching him this time around, his face reddening even though your skin was separated by multiple pieces of thick fabric.
“Would you let me touch you again?” You leaned over slightly so you were closer to his ear, your chin hovering over his shoulder.
“You can’t.” He was immediately denying your request, stiff and agitated sounding. His voice was tight as he spoke like he was having to force the words out. “Please don’t do this.”
“Because you’re a good boy right?” You were even closer now, your lips touching the shell of his ear and he was shuddering against you, a frustrated whine in his throat.
He sent a sharp glare in your direction, at least as sharp as his features could get. You thought he looked cute when he was mad at you, eyes brows furrowed and his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. Despite the way he was looking at you, he made no attempt to push you away or step apart himself.
“I want you to come to my house after church.” You whispered to him and he didn’t say anything, for once not shaking his head and just looking at you as you spoke your cruel demands. “I’ll tell my dad to talk to your parents about helping you catch up on his teachings.”
He looked amazed at your audacity, to not only lie to your parents but to lie about the lord and the Bible made his stomach turn in disgust.
Still, he almost couldn’t help but to lean his shoulder closer to yours and watch you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. He felt almost transfixed by you and your newness, the unique energy you gave off that made his head spin. He nodded his head slowly and watched you smile.
——
You’d waited for your mother to leave the house, a very rare occurrence for her outside of her weekly bingo nights at the recreational center in town, before you poked your head into your fathers office to request he calls the Sim’s.
You felt strangely jittery as you waited for them to send Jake over. Surprisingly, the Sim’s hadn’t moved into a house that far from you and you imagined he could probably ride a bike to your house in less than twenty minutes if the weather ever allowed it, rainy days an almost constant feature around this time of year.
It was only around half an hour before you heard knocks on the front door, followed by the low tone of your fathers voice and eventually the creaking of the steps as somebody made their way up to your bedroom.
Jake seemed thrown off when he saw you, dressed in far more casual clothes than he’d seen you in so far. He also looked momentarily relieved at the fact your door was wide open and you didn’t make any move to shut it as he crossed into the threshold of your room.
“Hi.” He politely addressed you with a slight bow and wave, avoiding looking at you fully where you sat on the bed. You gave him an incredulous look and sighed before patting the spot next to you.
He looked like he was dreading this but expecting it, only taking a few seconds of hesitation before he was shuffling over and sitting slowly down on your soft bed. You immediately scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand in yours.
His reaction wasn’t as intense as last time although he did immediately stiffen and his eyes snapped wide open, but he didn’t let out a small shriek at the feeling of your touch like he did yesterday.
“Are you going to let me touch you today?” You kept your voice low and he was suddenly very aware of the fact your door was completely open and your father was just a few feet away downstairs.
He slowly looked over at you, peering up from behind his long eyelashes and you wanted to grab his face with your nails. He looked like a puppy who had just done something naughty, big eyes unmoving from nerves as they darted around your face so he could avoid holding your strong gaze.
“This isn’t right.” He whispered back, eyes pleading as they finally locked onto yours. You almost felt sorry for him as he spoke, obviously so desperate to set you back on the right path in life. “Mother said I shouldn’t lay a hand on anybody, not even myself.”
You almost smiled as he said this, pleased at the new information he was unknowingly providing you with.
“It’s just skin.” You were reminding him again, slowly leaning against him so your chest was pressed against the side of his arm. His breath hitched at this and he glanced down at your upper body for a second. “You’ve never touched yourself?”
He shook his head immediately, face annoyed like he was offended you’d even suggest he would do such a thing. You liked that even though he was uncomfortable and denying his thoughts towards you, he still wasn’t seemingly capable of pushing you away. He’d still shown up to your house.
“I touch myself.” You were leaning forward more so you could talk into his ear again. A soft whimper left his throat when your lips grazed his skin again but he didn’t say anything, like he was waiting for you to continue. “On this bed, I touch myself every night.”
It was a slight exaggeration. You hadn’t really felt a strong need to touch yourself ever, never having a subject of attraction that left you longing enough that you’d roll around in bed late at night thinking about it, squeezing your thighs together in frustration.
But you were transfixed by the way he immediately tensed again, glancing back behind you towards where your pillows were and then immediately shooting forward and falling to the cross hanging on the wall in front of you both.
“It’s just skin.” You repeated to him again and he sucked in a shaky breath as you said it, bringing his guilty pained eyes back to you. You almost cooed at him, clicking your tongue and holding his chin softly. He leaned into the touch like he wasn’t meaning to and you wondered how touch starved he must be.
Your hand that wasn’t holding his face fell down to his lap, laying flat and still on his thigh as you let him process what you were doing.
He stiffened again and let out a low troubled groan, shaking his head again at himself. You wondered what he was thinking right now, if he was convinced he was heading straight for hell because of his thoughts alone so maybe it didn’t matter if he let you touch him. Or maybe he was seconds away from bolting downstairs and telling your father about what you’d been attempting to do.
“This isn’t right.” He was whispering and still trying to shake his head the best he could with your grip on his face. His repetition was starting to bug you, suddenly feeling impatient as he still hadn’t taken the bait fully.
“But it feels so good.” You purred into his ear, turning his head back to look at the cross and scooting closer so you were pressed tightly against his side. The sensation of this mixed with your hand on his leg was overwhelming and he felt slightly suffocated. “I want to show you Jake, let me show you how good it feels.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you considered letting him go, wanting to have him completely might mean waiting some time so you didn’t scare him off.
Then he was surprising you and looking back in your direction, your hand falling to his collarbones instead so he could decide what to do with his head. He gave you a soft nod, looking like he immediately regretted it when you wasted no time, pushing your hand forward onto the center of his pants.
He immediately lurched forward with a loud groan at the feeling of your hand on him and you shushed him softly, using the hand on his face to bring him back up to a sitting position and pet his face lovingly.
“You have to be quiet Jake.” You whispered in his ear and nodded towards your open door. He looked at you with a desperate glance, like he was pleading for you to close it despite his upset at that yesterday. You shook your head softly. “Can you be a good boy Jake?”
You started to slowly knead your hand against him, wanting to smile at the fact he was already hard before you had touched him. Light teasing and your soft hand on his thigh already had him bothered.
He was making small noises and you kept his face turned in your direction with your hold back on his jaw. You were sitting up straighter than him so he was a bit below you, having to look up through his eyelashes as he surprisingly held eye contact with you.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” You murmured excitedly, eyes wild and eager. He didn’t reply verbally, another small whine slipping from his throat and you pressed down hard on his cock through his pants. “I asked a question.”
Now he was nodding desperately, hands reaching out to grip your wrist in an attempt to lessen the pressure you were applying to him. “Good- feels good.”
His voice was strained and raspy like it was crawling its way out of his throat and you smiled with sick satisfaction, leaning forward so you were closer to his face. Your nose pressed against his and you thought about kissing him for just a few seconds, eventually deciding against it.
Jake was writhing on the bed now, desperately moving into your hand with small groans and whines, his hips lifting off the blanket in an attempt to chase your touch every time you removed it. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, a dazed expression on his face.
He seemed out of it until your hand was leaving his face and sliding down his sweater covered chest. He didn’t seem to realize you were doing it until your hand was pressing on his stomach slightly, fidgeting with the singular button on his jeans and tugging on the zipper impatiently.
“No, no.” He was whining, grabbing your wrist to stop you from snaking your hand down his pants, touching him without any layers between. “You can’t do that.”
“Why?” You asked incredulously, leaning forward so you were hovering over him slightly. He leaned back on his hand a bit to avoid bumping into your face and you were a few inches from laying on top of him. “I promise it’ll feel so good Jake.”
The usage of his name made him wince, realizing he liked it far too much when you said it. He’d never really considered his name before, completely indifferent to it until he heard the way it rolled off your snake like tongue.
“You aren’t supposed to do that.” He practically spat the words at you but his tone lacked any anger instead sounding fearful and pained. “You can’t touch me there, you just can’t.”
You felt slightly sorry for him as he hiccuped, his voice breaking around the words as you watched tears collect in his pretty eyelashes. His eyes kept darting to the cross on the wall with a guilty expression.
You took your hands off of his lap, listening to his sigh of longing at the loss of contact. You weren’t quite sure what to do in this situation despite seeing it coming, eventually opting for sitting up further on the bed and pulling him into your neck, wrapping your arms around his shaking body in a hug.
He leaned into it and hesitantly wrapped himself around you, tucking his face into your warm neck and letting out a few sobs, tugging you forward slightly by your lower back.
You let him cry for a while, hushing him softly every few minutes just in case, although you were in a less compromising position now, you still didn’t think your father would be thrilled to find you half in the lap of a sniffling boy who was still hard against you.
“Jake.” You were eventually murmuring into his hair once his hiccups subsided slightly, he nuzzled into your neck further at the sound of your soft tone. “What if I didn’t use my hands?”
He picked his head up at this and furrowed his eyebrows at you, his eyes puffy and red with wet streaks still going down his face.
“I don’t understand.” He looked more puppy like than normal as he said this in a soft breathy voice, voice hoarse from crying and his lip almost jutting out into a confused frown.
“Can I show you?” You kept your voice soft as you spoke to him and he immediately nodded his head. He clearly had found some sort of comfort in your embrace, a connection being made enough for him to fall into this state of vulnerability, willingly to accept what you were wanting to give him now.
You felt a sick rush of adrenaline at his lowered walls, the sudden dumb eagerness in his eyes as he seemed to seek out any sign of contact from you.
You imagined it was a flood of emotions, a confusion and tiring feeling to suddenly be presented with a situation that went against everything your life had been carefully crafted around. Not to mention how addicting it must feel to suddenly learn what was on the other side and how good it felt, having unbothered access to it as the two of you sat huddled on your bed.
Kissing his cheek softly, you slowly slid off the bed onto the floor, suddenly thankful you had a thick rug on your bed side. He watched you in confusion, looking like he wanted to grab you and help you up before you shot him a stern look.
Your hands were back on his jeans now that you were fully situated and he looked like he wanted to object for just a second before lifting his hips off the bed so you could pull them down to pool around his ankles.
You took just a second to admire him, his pretty tanned skin overwhelming you a bit in its sheer amount. His legs were surprisingly thick, muscular like an athlete and you briefly remembered you didn’t know much about him at all.
That didn’t bother you at all, if anything it made you want him more when you looked up at him to see his nervous eyes staring down at you in concern. He looked humiliated and you imagined it had something to do with the fact he was still extremely hard, even after crying for so long.
If he was more stable in his emotions, less flighty, you would’ve made fun of him. You would’ve called him names and made him cry all over again and then taken his innocence without a second thought.
Instead you carried on the kindness act, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his length through his underwear.
He immediately hissed and shot forward, not realizing what you were planning to do and not understanding why you were doing this. He started to stammer out in confusion and you shushed him again, sending a sharp glare towards the open door in warning.
“What are you doing?” He sounded absolutely blown away now, even more than he did earlier and it settled in your mind that he clearly had absolute no sexual knowledge, including blowjobs. “That’s dirty, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You were mock frowning up at him. “Did mommy say so?”
He knew you were making fun of him but he still nodded in response, not liking the sudden return of your mean tone. He forgot all about it when you were leaning forward again, this time touching your lips to him longer and sucking softly through the fabric.
“Mommy’s not here.” You were breathing out when you pulled away from him again, much to his dismay considering he immediately lifted his hips back in your direction. “And doesn’t it feel nice?”
He was nodding his head dumbly in agreement, feeling dizzy from the foreign emotions. He still didn’t understand what you were doing but it felt too good to keep questioning, forgetting momentarily about sin and how much punishment was going to come his way after this.
You were sliding your hands up his thighs slowly, stopping at the waistband of his boxers and glancing up at him for any sign of refusal. You didn’t care much for his discomfort but you weren’t going to force him to do anything, despite how much fun you were having with him.
He didn’t make any move to stop you, not even seeming to notice or understand what you were planning to do until you pulled on the elastic swiftly.
Then he was shooting back up from where he’d been leaning back, shaking his head again and covering himself with his hands. You smiled at him from your place on the floor and he looked at you like you were crazy.
You were getting slightly frustrated despite your pleased expression, wanting him to quickly understand what you were planning on doing. You gripped his wrist tightly and pulled them away from his lap
“What are you doing?” He was whispering in a panicked tone, his hands hovering above your head like he was debating pulling you away from him. He let out a yelp when you leaned forward and took the head of his cock into your mouth, watching him with hooded eyes. “T-that’s dirty, stop it.”
You wanted to laugh at his wording choices, sounding like he was a worried mother scolding their child for playing in mud.
“It’s dirty?” You frowned at him when you pulled back for a moment, his wide eyes falling on your wet lips. They squeezed shut just for a moment when you were licking up his full length slowly, humming at the taste of him and his weight on your tongue. “I should probably stop then right?”
He let out a panicked cry and ran a hand over his face in frustration. He wanted you to stop or at least he knew he should want you to stop. His mother had been right and you were not a nice girl, not the type of girl he should be around and he felt his stomach turn at the knowledge he was committing a very large sin by finding pleasure in your lust.
But the pleasure was prominent and overwhelming him to the point he couldn’t think straight.
He understood what sex was and his father had taught him about boyish lust, the kind that wakes you up from your sleep needing to change into a new pair of pajamas but he’d been warned from an early age to simply ignore the occurring urge.
He could still hear his mothers shrieks and cries when she caught him with a pillow between his legs in high school, could feel the welts on the back of his hands from the ruler his father had punished him with. Jake sometimes wondered if other people experienced this urge, this call to sin, as much as he did or if he was rotten inside.
But for the first time in his entire life, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to think about the consequences to falling victim to it. Not when you were touching him in ways not even his dreams could think to imagine.
When he didn’t answer you’d taken him back in your mouth, slightly impressed by how thick he was. He bucked forward his hips instinctively, pushing himself deeper into your mouth and you pinched his thigh roughly in warning.
You heard him cry out in a sob, his hands gripping the blankets so hard they were turning white and shaking at an almost alarming rate.
“Please.” He was begging and you weren’t sure he even knew what for, his voice coming out desperate and needy. “Please i-it feels really weird.”
You hummed around his cock in understanding, your hand petting his thigh and pushing his shirt up on his stomach so you could feel more of him. He didn’t even seem to register you touching him, the sounds of his soft cries and pleads distracting you slightly.
You tapped his hip bone a few times and he seemed to somehow understand the message, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth at a slower pace this time. You let him do what he wanted despite the urge to take control of the situation, knowing there wasn’t any chance he was lasting more than 30 seconds anyways.
He was slightly surprising you already, truthfully you’d expected him to cum before you even got his boxers off his thighs.
You imagined his inner monologue was causing him some issue as you listened to him cry softly from pleasure, little overwhelmed gasps and hiccups as one of his hands grabbed onto the one you were running across his stomach and squeezed it tightly.
“You need to just let it go baby.” You were whispering to him as you pulled off for a second when his hips started to twitch awkwardly, overwhelmed and not understanding what the feeling building up deep in his gut was. “Don’t worry about making a mess.”
The second you took him back in your lips he was following your instructions with a loud moan, completely forgetting you were meant to keep quiet as he came inside your warm mouth.
You winced slightly at the unexpectedness of it, leaning backwards on your knees as you waited for his hips to stop jerking forward.
He was shaking his head at you, eyes teary and his face red as he squinted his eyes in confusion. “What w-was -“
“You came.” You said matter of factly, standing up with a groan from your uncomfortable kneeling position and sitting next to him on the bed again. He leaned sideways into you, much to your surprise, and you resisted the urge to push him off you.
“Was I supposed to?” He whispered in embarrassment and pushed his face into your neck again. You were slightly uncomfortable at his clinginess but you let him do it, knowing he must be feeling a lot.
“Yes Jake. Maybe not all over my face though.” You were trying to joke with him to lighten the atmosphere but you sighed as you heard him let out a little cry into your neck, clearly upset and humiliated.
He was mumbling against your skin, repeated mantras that you couldn’t quite understood through his sobs but had a good guess in what they contained. You imagined reality was coming back to him now and he was processing what he’d just done without the hazy cloud of need cursing his judgement.
“Jake, you need to stop crying.” You were sighing and bringing your hand up to his hair, petting it softly to try to calm him down.
“Did I do a bad thing?” He pulled off your neck to look you in the eyes, his wide and desperate like he was fishing for any bit of reassurance that what you’d just done was okay, that he hadn’t just committed a sin so unholy. You could tell by his expression he was asking just to hear it reaffirmed, for you to tell him again it was just skin.
“My poor baby.” You were cooing at him, lips jutted out in a pout as your hands came up to hold his face, cupping it softly and wiping his teary cheeks with your thumbs. “Of course you did a bad thing.”
He froze completely in your hold and you felt a laugh bubble into your throat, holding it down with all your might so you could get the full extent of his reaction. He sat up slightly, attempting to pull out of your hands before realizing you were holding his face too tight. He gave you a confused and hurt look.
“What?” He was stammering out and his face was curling back into another sob.
“How could you let me do that?” You were tsking at him as you spoke, eyebrows furrowed like he had genuinely offended you. He watched you as panic settled into his eyes at the sound of you kissing your teeth and shaking your head softly. “We were supposed to be studying.”
“B-but.” He was shaking his head and holding onto your wrist, eyes filling with tears. “But you said that..”
He trailed off and you watched him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to pass the blame off onto you. Of course he didn’t, his expression hardening although you knew he hadn’t quite realized your motive. He was too innocent to believe you’d deceive him, too stupid to understand every action you did was a carefully crafted lie.
“Maybe it’s time you go Jakey.” You were nodding as you spoke, petting his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.
He didn’t say anything else, his expression dazed out as he came out of such a vulnerable compliant headspace with a jolt. You watched him in silence as he gathered himself enough to get dressed awkwardly and walk out of your room, loose and tilting like he had just woken up.
You waited for him to be completely out of sight, the sound of the front door closing, before falling back on your bed with a big smile.
——
You’d fallen asleep soon after that without much thought on the situation, feeling only a deep satisfaction at the progress you’d made with Jake and a slight tinge of excitement for the next time you got to see him.
By the time you’d woken up, your mother was already in your room and standing staring down at you. You barely reacted to her presence although you were slightly unnerved and curious just how long she’d been watching you sleep.
“Can I help you?” Your voice was groggy as you sat up and pushed your bedridden hair out of your face.
Any other mother might have found your tired movements cute, maybe they’d give you an endeared smile and reminisce on when you were a baby waking up from naps.
However you were born with a very specific type of mother, maybe one of her kind. She was watching you with a nasty scowl, a knowing look in her eye as she did a slow pan around your room. “Your father said the boy was here yesterday.”
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head softly to try and get a further reaction from her.
“His mother called and said he won’t be at church this morning.” She spat the words at you, accusatory and nasty. “He’s sick.”
You could tell by the way she said that she knew it was a lie, wether Jake was the one telling it or his mother. At first you were slightly shocked he’d lie about being sick but you figured he might just be feeling so, driven by the extreme emotions he’d been feeling.
“What a shame. He seemed more than fine yesterday.” You put in a pity filled voice, shaking your head as you let the innuendo sink in for her, watching the way her face curled with disgust.
“Almost ready?” You father was suddenly in your doorway, observing the scene with a raised eyebrow as he buttoned the cuff of his sleeve.
“Father, would it be okay if I stopped by the Sim’s before heading to service? I’d like to bring Jake some soup for his cold.” Your voice was dripping with sweetness and you vaguely saw your mothers jaw tick with irritation.
“I can do it.” She was rushing to say.
Your father shook his head immediately and held a hand up to silence the both of you from speaking again. He finished buttoning his sleeve and cleared his throat before speaking. “You agreed to meet with the Lee’s today Mary. I think it’d be a good idea for Y/N to go, since they’re friends.”
You smiled appreciatively at him and he gave you a small nod before leaving the room. You glanced at your mother to see her stony expression but surprisingly she didn’t say anything, simply shaking her head in disapproval and following behind him.
It was strange to not leave for church with them, to stand in the window with the curtain pulled back as you smiled and waved watching the car drive off.
You dropped the grin the second they turned the street corner and hurried out the door to get on your bike and head over to the Sim’s house.
You hadn’t been there before despite your father pointing it out on your way home yesterday but it looked pretty much the exact same as the other houses in the neighborhood. It was large and eerie, the rainy atmosphere not helping it.
The door was opening before you could even dismount your bike let alone knock and you saw Jake’s mom standing in the archway with a small frown.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and for a second you wondered if he had told her about what happened, confessed his sins in a fit of guilt.
You were so thrown off that you didn’t immediately respond, suddenly aware of the fact you didn’t bring any sort of soup or medicine like you had originally planned, too eager to get out the door to remember your cover story.
Lucky for you, Jake’s father was coming into sight now and a small grunt from him sent the rude woman cowering away.
You observed this with a curious expression and tried not to frown. Maybe Jake wasn’t as innocent and pure as he seemed considering he apparently had some familial issues, obvious in the way his mother showed a fearful obedience to the large man in front of you.
“You here for my boy?” His voice was low and gruff and it was a bit remarkable how different Jake was than his father.
You opted for a small nod, only slightly playing a part considering he actually did a good job at intimidating you. He let out a hum of approval and stepped aside so you could enter the house, not asking anymore questions.
“It’s good you two get along.” You were taking in the main living space as you entered, his voice picking up a conversational tone that sounded slightly unnatural. “I was beginning to think he’d never talk to someone his own age, let alone a girl.”
He had a typical mannish tone, one you’d heard in movies or from the gross men who sat outside the town bar in a drunken haze as they catcalled and talked at a volume far too loud for your small town. It lacked the usual religious hold you were more used to, he almost sounded pleased at the idea of his son being with a girl.
You glanced at him and held his stare. You wondered for a second if he was testing you now, waiting for you to reveal any sinful intentions you had so he could run back to your father and earn some brownie points for catching your sickness in the act.
He raised an eyebrow at you as you cocked your head, willing him to talk further and continue in his attempt at baiting you.
“Upstairs on the right.” He eventually said, your stare unrelenting. You unfroze your stony expression and gave him a small smile, knowing you probably looked crazy with how fast your face changed.
You were walking away from him before he could say anything else or before Jake’s mother could return, skipping a step at a time in your haste to get upstairs.
Without knocking, you pushed open his door and barged in.
He was sat up in bed, lower half under the covers, and he let out a small shriek of surprise at your sudden intrusion, furthered by a quick inhale when he realized who it was that had just walked in.
“W-what are you doing here?” He was rushing out as he watched you close the door behind you and sit down on the end of his bed.
“I came to check on you.” You said it like it was obvious, a soft shrug of your shoulders. “Since you’re sick.”
His mouth parted in confusion for a second before he seemingly remembered he was meant to be ill, looking awkward and guilty at the reminder he had lied.
You didn’t address his obvious reaction, telling you what you already assumed, and instead climbed up further on his bed. He made a strange noise when you got closer to him, pulling back the blankets and getting underneath them with him. You briefly caught sight of his plaid pajama pants before you covered the both of you up.
“M-my parents.” He was shaking his head and anxiously looking at the door like he was waiting for his mom to walk in any second. You watched his distress, wondering if he was possibly hoping for that to happen, before you heard the sound of the front door slamming.
A look of fear passed over his face at the realization his parents had just left him alone with you. You were a bit surprised yourself but you kept your face neutral, watching him to drink up his reaction.
“I came all this way and you can’t even say thank you.” You tsked and relaxed against his pillows with an annoyed expression. “Especially after what you did yesterday.”
He looked upset at the reminder and he was sitting up more now, the blanket pulling forward around his thighs and he practically kneeled and titled forward in your direction. He wasn’t touching you but his hands were clasped together as he practically did a full bow on his bed.
“I’m so sorry.” He started to say the words but his voice broke around them and he rocked slightly back and forth. You almost laughed at the fact he was already about to cry and it’d only been about five minutes alone with you. “Thank you for coming.”
You imagined he’d been doing a lot of crying since you saw him last, staying up all night running your words on loop in his mind. The sincerity in your voice when you told him he committed a disgusting sin.
“Get back under the covers.” You spoke in a calm voice and he picked his head up to look at you in confusion, face red and eyes teary. He looked surprised you weren’t scolding him, having seemingly forgotten you were the one who practically forced him to let you touch him.
He stayed frozen like that for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and nodding appreciatively, getting back under the blankets and pulling them up again so you were covered. He seemed to only now realize you were laying back against the pillows and he mirrored you, laying on his side so he could face you.
“I won’t tell anybody what you did.” You whispered to him now that his attention was fully on you. Your hand came up to hold his face and he tensed for a second at the contact. “Or maybe I will… I haven’t decided.”
He shook his head hastily, scooting closer to your body and grabbing ahold of your hand that was on his face, wrapping both of his around your wrist and squeezing it softly in desperation.
“Y-you can’t.” He urged and you felt his hands shaking around yours. “I mean you can b-but I’m really so sorry and my dad, he’d kill me.”
You shushed him as he started to ramble, petting his cheek and frowning deeply at what he had said. You figured Jake’s dad hurt his mother but you hadn’t considered it extending to his child as well. A strange surge of anger ran through you despite your own twisted intentions.
Scooting down a bit more so you were completely laid down, you put a hand on his back and pulled him towards you until he got the hint and curled into your side with a soft cry. He was stuffing his face back into your neck like he did yesterday and you rubbed his back softly.
You vaguely acknowledged the fact he was completely pressed against your side now, almost laying half on top of you in his emotional state.
“I won’t tell.” You whispered, his soft and messy hair tickling your face as you spoke. In his desperation for comfort he seemed to forget about not touching you, his arm coming up to wrap around your stomach, tugging you closer in a rush of thankfulness and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “But only if you answer my questions.”
He nodded immediately and picked his head up off your neck so he could look at you more clearly. He looked particularly cute like this you decided, his hair unstyled and still sticking up from where he’d slept on it and his soft pajamas that were rubbing against your legs.
“Did you touch yourself last night.” You held his chin as you spoke so he was looking up at you, his head almost resting against your chest as he peered with big wet eyes.
He was shaking his head as much as he could and furrowing his eyebrows like he did the last time you asked him. “I don’t- I wouldn’t. I don’t know how even.”
This fascinated you slightly. You figured he didn’t understand masturbating or its purpose outside of it being sinful but the fact he’d never once curiously touched himself was interesting. You wondered how many nights he laid in bed crying with confusion at the dull ache between his legs.
“Did you like being in my mouth?” Your voice dropped lower for the second question and an automatic whine slipped out from his lips, his face immediately flushing with embarrassment as he seemed to replay the memory.
He was nodding hesitantly much to your annoyance, you wanted to hear him say it but you figured you could take it easy on him today.
Maybe easy wasn’t the best way to describe your current plan for him considering the way you were suddenly pressing your thigh in between his legs, smiling at him when he groaned loudly and tightened his grip on you.
Your side burned slightly from the force in which he curled his hands up at the sudden contact.
“You’re hard.” You said matter of factly, telling the truth and not just teasing him. He was solid against your thigh now and you heard him whimper when you shifted slightly so his tight grip on you was more comfortable. “I barely said anything and you’re hard.”
He shook his head in disagreement but his hips twitched forward, rubbing his erection against you and making a low drawn out sound at the feeling.
“Did I say you could do that?” Your tone was harsh again and he immediately froze, groaning softly and tucking his head forward onto your chest. You let your hand go back to this hair, petting him for a second before gripping it tightly and tugging his head back up to look at you.
He winced at the pain, face contorted as he tried to scoot away from you. However he still didn’t remove his arm from around your stomach so he wasn’t able to go far, his hand still kneading against your side like he didn’t realize he was even moving it.
“Ask me.” You instructed him, still holding his hair in a tight fist. “Clear words, no crying bullshit.”
He looked momentarily taken back by you swearing and being so harsh but then he had a look of guilt like he was remembering the other day and he was attempting to nod in head in agreement.
“Please I want… I want you to touch me.” He settled on, not sure how to word what he needed. You smiled softly at him for his attempt but you weren’t convinced, deciding on helping him ask you properly.
“Tell me you’re disgusting.” You whispered, leaning your face forward so your nose was touching his again, like it did momentarily yesterday. “Say you want to hump my leg like a dog.”
He looked confused and overwhelmed at your words, shaking his head in refusal until you moved your leg again. It rubbed against him and you almost laughed at the fact he was almost harder now even after your tone changed. His hips chased the feeling and you tugged his hair again in warning, listening to his soft groan of frustration.
“I want..” He hiccuped softly and shook his head, trying to force the strange words from his mouth. “I want to hump your leg please please.”
You let go of his hair and his head fell back down onto your chest. He hadn’t completely fulfilled your request but it was good enough for now.
“Alright baby.” You didn’t need to say anything else for him to understand, immediately pulling you closer again and rocking against your side.
You listened to his soft little whines as he humped against you desperately, moving in messy motions as he tried to chase after the feeling he recognized from yesterday.
The feeling of his hand gripping your side was making your head spin a bit much to your irritation and you gripped it tightly, moving it off your waist. He seemed to misunderstand and instead placed it directly over your belly button where your sweater had ridden up, pushing down softly as he rubbed the soft skin of your stomach.
You let out a small groan and this seemed to ignite something in him because he let out a little cry and nuzzled further into you as he dragged his clothed cock over your hip harder.
“Tell me it feels good.” You instructed him and you felt more annoyance at the fact your voice came out breathy, not liking the effect he was having on you.
“S-so good.” He immediately responded and you felt his leg wrap around yours, trying to get closer to you despite it being impossible. “Going to die it’s good, it’s good.”
You laughed softly at his dramatic wording and pet his hair again, trying to get his attention. He slowed down the grinding of his hips to look at you and you nearly cooed at his hooded wet eyes, trying to focus on your face but struggling.
You were originally planning on teasing him some more, attempting to get him to repeat the words you wanted to hear earlier, but at the sight of his pretty overwhelmed face you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in and kissing him softly.
He yelped at the feeling, tensing up for a few seconds before closing his eyes and trying to kiss you back, failing miserably.
You laughed against his lips and you could feel him frowning, face getting red with embarrassment as he uncomfortably shifted against you.
“Come here.” You tapped his back softly and nudged him so he was fully on top of you, squishing you under him but making it so you could reach his mouth better. “Rub your cock on me while we kiss.”
He whined softly, nodding his head despite the flush on his face and you waited while he slowly experimented with the new position, practically in missionary now. When he started to move his hips again, his hard cock was now rubbing directly against your core and he faltered at the feeling, nearly collapsing on top of you.
You smiled at his reaction. You had full doubt that he knew what sex was or the fact he was basically imitating it but you imagine he could get the gist that what you were doing was wrong.
You leaned your head forward to kiss him again, easier now that he was on top of you and seemingly more eager to get it right this time. He was still sloppy, not really understanding how to move his mouth or when but you took over, moving your lips against his slowly.
He seemed to get the hang of it eventually and you could feel his thrust getting more desperate as the kiss got deeper and faster.
Your tongue was in his mouth before he even realized and he made a small startled sound, hips stopping against yours at the new feeling. He was letting out high pitched whines and moans as you licked into his mouth, him drooling slightly and desperately trying to keep your tongue where it was.
You could feel him sucking on it, twisting his head to try to get it deeper in his mouth and he instinctively gave a particularly hard thrust, causing you to moan into him.
This seemed to startle him, pulling back off your face with a wet chin and hooded eyes, looking down at you in amazement.
He did it again experimentally and you could feel the hard print of his cock directly against you, your back arching as your hand came up to grip his hair and stop him from doing it again. You were reminding yourself this wasn’t about your pleasure, you wanted to ruin him and nothing else.
But you couldn’t deny your attraction to him, almost the perfect boy for you if there was to ever be one.
It didn’t help he happened to have an impressive size on him, although you doubted he even realized he was bigger than usual or would know what to do if given that information.
You wrapped a leg around his side and he sucked in a breath, having better access now. He kept rolling his hips sloppily into you and moaning loudly, forgetting who he was or where he was currently at.
“What would mommy think if she saw you like this?” You took it upon yourself to remind him, whispering into his mouth with a pant and almost laughing at the way he immediately tensed and stopped humping against you. “If she walked it to see her son so desperate to sin.”
He was shaking his head and lifting it slightly to be able to look at you better, eyes welling up with tears as he glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door. You hadn’t been there long and you imagined church still had a few hours before it’d be over and they’d be heading back but he seemed to forget all this at the mention of his parents.
“I’m not.” His hair was messy in his face, bangs slightly damp from sweating and his previous tears. “I don’t want to sin, I don’t want to be bad. Please.”
You hummed softly at him, lips forming a mocking pout as you looked at him with gentle eyes. You stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning against your hand like a puppy.
“My poor baby.” You cooed and kissed him again briefly, he immediately chased after it when you pulled away and you tapped your finger on his cheek to stop him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
He seemed confused at what you meant but too drunk on the feeling of your touch and lips, chasing after them again in a messy kiss that was mostly just him trying to get his tongue back against yours.
You indulged him and let him lick into it, letting out soft desperate moans and you were suddenly realizing how much you were aching for him despite managing to keep a cool demeanor on the outside.
You shifted your leg that was wrapped around his middle and he seemed to remember that he was currently on top of you and he went back to writhing against your body, his hard on rubbing against you an almost painful amount now that you were granting him more access with the switched position.
He wasn’t able to hold himself up, curling up on your chest while he moved his lower body with sobs of pain and need.
“God, I thought it’d take longer to break you.” You were trying to make fun of him but your voice broke in a moan at the feeling of him pushing himself against your sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking nasty, look at yourself.”
He was shaking his head and crying fully now, chasing after a high he didn’t even understand and you were almost feeling dizzy from the pace he was going.
“I’m good.” He was blabbering out and looking at you again, trying to lean forward for a kiss but letting out a sharp cry midway and falling back down with his head on your chest.
“You’re a good boy Jake.” You cooed at him, nodding even though he couldn’t see you and he felt sick at the constant changing of your tones. “My good boy right?”
He was suddenly sitting up again, pulling himself against you so he could look at you directly in the eye, if he could see through his tears. He was nodding his head in earnest and you felt your lip quirk up in a smile.
“I’m yours. I want to be yours.” He was rushing out, hands leaving your stomach to balance on either side of you. His tone was pleading and you wondered if he even knew what he was asking for or if he was just repeating what you’d said dumbly.
You kissed him softly and he let out a shaky breath of relief against your lips. However he started to frown when you were suddenly pushing him off of you and patting the empty space on the bed right beside where you were laying. He looked confused and hurt but he didn’t ask any questions, simply rolling over and waiting to see what you were attempting to do.
You watched him for a few seconds, taking in the change of appearance in such a short amount of time.
He was laid back fully on the bed, eyes hooded and cloudy. His mouth was parted slightly as he panted, his chest rising and falling at a fast speed as his arm reached up to try and push his messy hair out of his face. You liked the way he looked like this, especially the way his shirt was ridden up on his stomach, a sliver of skin showing.
He started making small impatient whines and groans so you took mercy on him, flipping yourself over slightly so you could situate yourself on his lap.
You sucked in a breath the second you did, quickly shutting your lips tight after so he didn’t catch sight of the display of pleasure. He was hard underneath and pressed tightly against your core as you sat on him.
“Oh my god.” He was crying out and his hands jutted forward like he was going to grab your sides, stopping midway and flailing around as he didn’t know what he was meant to do with them.
“Touch me.” You spat at him, reaching down to grab his wrist and put his hands on your ass as you leaned forward so you were in a similar position to his a few minutes ago, laying on top of him.
He froze as he touched you and you almost scolded him for acting so prudish with touching you like he wasn’t just trying to fuck you through his cute little pajamas. However you figured it was harder for him to deliberately do something versus acting purely on the overwhelming lust he was feeling.
You gripped his jaw harshly in your hand, your nails digging into his skin slightly as you used your thumb to pull his mouth open and hummed with satisfaction.
“Say you want me inside you.” You whispered, leaning down to talk into his open mouth. You watched his eyes widen in confusion but you rubbed your hips against him as motivation and he immediately complied.
“Want you inside me.” He moaned out, big fat tears sliding down his face. “Y/N please I need it please.”
He didn’t even know what he was asking for but he was overwhelmed and sinking back down into that fuzzy headspace, willing to do anything to get pleasure from you.
You kept his mouth open after he was done speaking and he opened it wider for you, although not understanding where you were heading with this action. He watched with wide confused eyes as you leaned over him and slowly spit into his open mouth.
He cried out, hips bucking up instinctively at the sensation of your spit on his tongue so directly and you almost fell forward from the roughness in which he fucked himself up into you. You smacked his cheek lightly and he snapped his mouth shut with another moan, eyes shut in euphoria.
You hummed at him in approval, leaning back down to kiss him again and lick into his mouth, letting him turn his head sideways in an attempt to get your tongue as deep as possible. You wondered if he was purposely imitating the blowjob you’d given him or if he was just that desperate to be consumed.
“I’m going to take you to hell with me.” You whispered, pulling out of the kiss and petting his hair softly. He shook his head and let out a small sob, this time not from pleasure.
“Do you want to cum?” You didn’t address his denial or tease him further for now, knowing now you had him completely hooked. He was addicted to you and the feelings you gave him and no mean words would be able to keep him away from you.
He seemed hesitant in his nod, now once again thinking about the sins he was committing and the fact he was skipping church to touch a girl inappropriately. But he did eventually nod his head, eyes still watering.
“Then fuck me baby.” You rolled back over as you spoke, flopping onto your back and rubbing his chest through his shirt, slightly surprised by the thick build he had. He was immediately on top of you again and you almost laughed at his haste.
You didn’t mean it literally and you didn’t fear him taking it as such considering he didn’t even know what it meant, he just knew you were cursing and being dirty.
You wondered if he even knew what you had inside your pants, scrapping that idea for another time instead so you didn’t get yourself too worked up thinking about how much it would ruin him to feel you.
He didn’t last long once he was back on top of you, only a few seconds passed before he was letting out a loud cry and hiccuping, his hips jutting against you a few more times in aftershock before he was collapsing on top of you.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He was sobbing into your neck and you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing it slowly with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, God please forgive me.”
——
Jake had fallen asleep on top of you shortly after that, exhausted from everything you’d been putting him through both mentally and physically.
You let him lay there on top of you surprisingly despite how uncomfortable it was and how much you kept readying yourself to shove him off of you and leave him without any comfort, you simply couldn’t.
You weren’t quite sure why, it wasn’t like being mean to him was going to ruin your plan and make him not want to talk to you anymore. He was trapped now with you.
Yet you found yourself staying and not only staying but watching him as he slept. He looked younger like this, despite always being very puppy like and boyish you couldn’t deny that Jake was a man and he could be an intimidating one if it wasn’t for his personality. His eyelashes were long and fluttering like he was having a vigorous dream and his back would rise and fall with every deep inhale he took.
By the time he woke up you’d been laying there for probably an hour or two staring at him or looking around his room with curiosity, you felt him shifting against you and almost pretended you were asleep before deciding against it.
He froze his movements when he realized where he was exactly, or at least who it was underneath him. Then he was rolling off of you onto his back with a groan and you were suddenly feeling very cold without his weight and body warmth.
“Did my parents come home?” His voice was low and groggy from sleep and crying and you turned your head to look at him now that you were laying side by side.
“Are you kidding? Like your mother isn’t going to run in here the first second the car parks and hose you down.”
He laughed softly at your words, almost a scoff and your lip quirked up in a smile at his casual reaction, knowing his guard must be down since he was still so tired.
“She wouldn’t do that.” He eventually whispered and you could feel his shoulder pressing against yours. “At least the hose part.”
“Is she as bad as mine?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask him something so personal or why you were even making conversation with him in the first place but you were suddenly curious.
“Not sure.” He was looking at you, you could feel it on the side of your head. “My dad is though.”
You hummed as a response, already figuring that from the times you’d interacted with him and the way Jake talked about him earlier. You felt a sudden wave of discomfort at your current situation and fidgeted in your spot on the bed.
“Are you going to leave?” His voice was a whisper still and he wasn’t looking at you anymore from what you could tell. He sounded slightly upset like the thought of you leaving wasn’t pleasant.
“You wanted me to earlier.” You scoffed softly but it was humorless, for some reason feeling offended at the reminder despite knowingly doing everything in your power to make him uncomfortable for your own satisfaction.
He didn’t say anything for a while and you listened to him breathing softly, wondering if he caught on to the hint of insecurity you were accidentally showcasing.
“Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He eventually said and you barely heard him considering how low his voice had gotten.
“See you tomorrow Jake.”
——
Tuesday’s were another day that your schedule was slightly shifted after church service. You had always been instructed to some form of community service on that day of the week, wether is be picking up trash or teaching a small class to the elders and children.
You didn’t mind this despite your distaste for religion. You got some sick satisfaction from watching religious people interact, like babies excitedly chatting about fairy tails and wishing for a big grand gesture to fix their own shitty lives.
Plus it got you out of your house and kept you slightly on the good side of your mother typically although you doubt with your recent actions you’d ever be on that side of the fence again.
So it was particularly annoying when you were tasked to clean the church basement, an area usually unseen by anybody in the town including yourself.
It was a mess of overfilled shelves and baskets stacked to the brim with old holiday decorations or donations from past families that were never put to use.
You’d been hesitant to agree, having to try ten times harder than usual to apply your usual fake smile towards your father when you graciously nodded and accepted the task. Luckily a handful of other volunteers had also followed you down the creaky stairs, one of them being Jake.
Not on his own volition considering the way his eyes bulged out of his head when his father roughly nudged him as you stood at the center of the stage requesting helping hands. He hesitantly held his in the air and avoided making eye contact with you as you smiled happily.
The same smile you held now as you stood side by side with him, taking things off the shelves and throwing them into a trash pile. He looked more anxious than usual, like he was genuinely worried you’d try to do something to him while people were watching.
“Miss Y/N?” One of the older women who had volunteered was approaching the two of you, holding a small basket of, what looked like, old arts and crafts. “I found this and was wondering if you thought your father might want to hang them up in the youth study room?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea ma’am.” You were smiling widely at her, eyes soft and full of light. “You should bring them up to him.”
She was smiling appreciatively at you before turning and heading back up the stairs, missing the way your smile immediately dropped back into a blank expression.
Jake however, didn’t miss it and you heard him scoff from next to you as he observed the interaction. You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged.
“Don’t you get tired of doing that all the time?” He questioned and you faltered slightly. You hadn’t ever really considered it as something you were doing necessarily so his statement threw you off.
“I don’t know… I do it with everybody. I just do it.” You shrugged and awkwardly looked away from him, feeling confronted.
“You don’t do it with me.” He suddenly declared and you were reminded that you didn’t actually know Jake or his personality that well, completely caught off guard by his bluntness.
“Maybe because I knew you were just as bad as me.” You dropped your voice into a small whisper, leaning closer to him slightly as he glanced around to see which volunteers were over in your side of the basement.
He picked up an old toy and tossed it off in the distance, shaking his head in denial. “That’s not true at all.”
“Why isn’t it?” You cocked your head at him and stopped rummaging through the shelf, more interested in what he was saying. You turned your body so you were facing him and could lean against the wood.
“I believe in this.” He looked around the room as if to emphasize what he was referring to. “I love god.”
“Do you? Or have you just been told to?” You were already sure of the answer but you were curious what he would say about that, if he’s ever sat and thought that over or if his faith was really that unwavering.
“I never questioned it before.” He confirmed with a stern voice, sending you a sharp look so you would understand he was serious. “Not once in my life until we moved here. Not once until..”
He trailed off but the implication was heavy and he looked away with a bright flush on his face. He was obviously referring to you and you felt a small spark of satisfaction at the fact he was implying you were the first thing to ever make him doubt, implying that he was doubting at all.
He scowled slightly when he noticed the bright smile that was on your face, one you didn’t even realize you had.
“I’m serious Y/N. If anyone ever found out I…” He didn’t finish his sentence again but you could get the gist of what he was implying, your smile dropping into a frown.
“You think I don’t know that? The stakes are way higher on my side of things incase you forgot.” Your tone was harsher now but you were taking a step closer to him, not bothering to check if anybody was watching. “But you’re mine right? Like you said?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, turning to face you and taking a big gulp when he realized you were practically close enough to kiss now. You waited for him to say something against your claim, to tell you he had been lust drunk or he didn’t mean it.
Instead he slowly nodded, eyes shooting down awkwardly to your feet. His shy expression was one you were more familiar seeing him with and your smile returned.
“Can you come over today?” You whispered and he looked back at you with a shocked expression, clearly not expecting you to say that. “I have something to show you.”
He was nodding again, not trusting himself to speak without stuttering and you grinned, turning back to the shelf and continuing with your sorting.
——
By the time church was over and Jake got to your house, you were already sat outside on the porch in a big sweater and a scarf wrapped around your neck.
“Are we not.. going in?” He was standing at the end of your driveway, putting his bikes kickstand down and watching you with a confused expression.
“I said I had to show you something didn’t I?” He watched you as you stood from the cement slab, grabbing your own bike from off the side of your house and walking it down towards him with a half smile.
He didn’t say anything as you both got on your bikes, following behind you as you rode off the curb and down the street.
The ride was long and cold, the sky grey as you passed by old houses and empty shops that’d been abandoned as the owners aged. Jake found the town sad a bit but he was curious what you were leading him too and slightly excited that you wanted to spend time with him in a different way than normal.
Eventually you were crossing the threshold of the city limit, a big sign with chipping paint that was welcoming you in or wishing you safe travels out.
After that it wasn’t long before you were slowing to a stop, surrounded by trees and a large field. Jake watched you get off your bike with a raised eyebrow, waiting until you looked back at him with a beckoning hand.
“It’s this way.” You urged and he hopped off, pushing the bikes alongside each other until you were on the other side of the muddy field, approaching a large river. The sound of it was loud as it rushed but not loud enough to block out the noise of the highway across from it, just off in the distance.
Jake watched it as you unpacked your backpack that he didn’t even realize you’d been wearing until now, unfolding a thick blanket and laying it down on the wet grass.
“They can’t build houses over here because the river always overflows.” You started to explain, pulling out a thermos and something wrapped in paper towel as you talked. “The water levels higher than usual because all the rain we get.”
“Sometimes I wonder if they even know we are over here.” You continued with a scoff, sitting criss cross on the blanket now and looking over at Jake who was dropping his bike.
He sat down too, carefully keeping his wet and muddy shoes off of the fabric.
“Do you come here a lot?” He was muttering what felt like his first words of the day, looking around the area and seeing virtually no signs of civilization other than the highway. He wondered for a second if you had even been able to hear him over the sound of it.
“I guess. There isn’t much else to do if you haven’t noticed by now.” You were shrugging as you spoke, you stuck one of your legs out so it nudged against his.
“I’ve been pretty occupied since I’ve gotten here so I guess I didn’t.” His words made you laugh although he was being serious, only having gone from home to church to your room.
He didn’t say anything as you laughed and he still didn’t when you were suddenly moving out of your sitting position, crawling towards him on all fours until you could press yourself against him.
Every part of you was touching as you sat side by side, both facing the rushing river and trying to not focus on how cold it was outside, the sky slowly darkening now since it was around dinner time. That reminded you that you had packed sandwiches and you were leaning forward slightly to reach them, handing him one and watching him unwrap the paper towel in confusion.
His cheeks turned red when he saw what it was, glancing at you and nodding softly in appreciation before taking a bite.
“Why are we here?” He was breaking the silence the two of you had fallen into as you ate and passed the warm thermos back and forth, watching the highway and the building traffic.
“I don’t know.” You felt strangely vulnerable at this question, not really knowing yourself why you’d taken him to such a private place. “Don’t think too deeply about it.”
Your sudden change of tone made him frown and tense against you, a harshness seeping into your words as you reminded him what type of relationship you had going here.
To further prove your point that this wasn’t anything being sin and attraction, you were quickly turning your upper body so you could face him before leaning forward and pressing into a kiss. He froze completely for a few seconds, brain short circuiting at the sudden contact.
Then he was closing his eyes slowly and kissing you back, a low him of appreciation slipping through your lips and vibrating against his.
You turned your body more so you could climb over his legs, straddling him and making a small noise of surprise when his hands were immediately on your lower back, tugging you in tighter against him.
The two of you kissed like that for a while, you sitting comfortably in his lap and feeling him grow hard underneath you embarrassingly quick. He felt strong and sturdy under you but he was letting out little whines and whimpers and he kept trying to pull you in closer, almost like he was trying to merge the two of you together.
Then you were sitting up on your knees and tugging your long skirt up so it was bunched around your hips, mouth parting slightly at the feeling of the cold air nipping at your bare skin. He watched you with confusion, eyes darting around your legs so fast he felt dizzy.
You sat back down on his hard on, now only separated by his jeans and your underwear and he let out a low moan, shooting forward and ducking his head forward into your neck.
“Y/N.” He whined out and you shushed him, petting his hair and rocking your hips slowly against him, liking the way his mouth parted against your skin as he took deep shuddering breaths.
“I want you to feel me.” You were whispering into his hair and he picked his up in alarm, shaking his head and glancing down at your exposed lap.
“I- I don’t know how.” He was rushing out and you laughed softly, reaching down to grab his wrist off the blanket and pick his hand up.
You placed it against your stomach like it was the other day when he was pressing on it absentmindedly, letting him feel the smooth skin above your underwear line for a while before pushing his hand down slightly past the elastic and listening to his gasp.
You were still rocking against him but slower now, letting him feel you for the first time at his own pace and trying not to overwhelm him.
His hand was shaking fast, from the cold and nerves. You imagined he could feel his own hand pressing against his cock as he kept moving it down, trapping it between the both of you. You dipped down again when he hesitatingly stopped moving it once he was fully in your underwear and he let out a cry at the feeling of your wetness against his skin.
“W-what?” He was crying out in concern, eyes shooting up to look at yours. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”
“I’m wet.” You explained to him with a breathy voice despite the fact you knew he didn’t understand what that would mean or if it was good or bad. “Means I feel good, you make me feel good.”
That seemed to alarm him more than the idea of you bleeding, his hand instinctively twitching and pressing against you. You leaned down to kiss him again and he reciprocated, forgetting his hand was on you for a few seconds before you were lowering your hips again.
He wasn’t doing anything but just the feeling of his large hands cupping you was making you feel dizzy, rocking against him again despite the strange noise he let out.
“Touch me baby c’mon.” He looked up at you at the sound of your urging, eyes big and wet. He looked nervous but he hesitatingly moved his fingers, curling slightly and pressing against your clit. You let out a cry and he immediately froze, mistaking it for pain. “No Jake, it’s okay do it again.”
He didn’t look sure but he followed your instructions anyways, curling his hand up and being amazed by the way you threw your head back in a small cry.
The two of you seemed to forget about your surroundings, about the rushing lake or the freezing air that was only making the cold grass more bitter to sit in. You almost forgot who you were or the fact you were only a few minutes outside of town, practically riding Jake in a field visible to anyone who cared.
“You’re so pretty.” You remarked and he frowned at your gentle word causing you to lean forward and kiss him softly. “I want to keep you forever.”
You were too lust drunk to think about the heavy implication of your words or the fact saying them went against everything you’d previously been attempting. The whole reason you’d even started touching him today was to distract him from the fact you’d taken him to a place personal to you, to make him forget your act of kindness.
“You can keep me.” He was stuttering out in a high voice, not really sure if you meant what you were saying considering how confusing he found you, how strange this whole situation was.
Jake had accepted at some point that his life was changing now and for some reason, god had put you in his path. At first he figured you were some type of test of faith, if he could just ignore you and your evil nature then he’d be able to prove he was a good man, a holy man. But he began to wonder eventually if you were truly as terrible as he originally thought, as his mother kept remarking every time his father wasn’t in the room.
You made him cry and you occasionally would say terrible things to him. And it was no doubt you had a habit of sinning and making him sin, even when he didn’t want to.
But he thought you were kind at other times and he could tell by the way you zoned out in church during service and were nice to the young residents or helpful to the old, that you didn’t have no emotion. Maybe you were right, although you had a twisted way of teaching him about it.
You were leaning down to kiss him again and he was taking his hand out of your underwear, wiping it on his pants briefly before cupping your face in both his palms and keeping you there.
“Did I ruin you?” You were muttering against his panting mouth with a small smile, hands petting his hair affectionately.
“Almost.” He answered with a slight laugh, kissing you again.
——
By the time you and Jake had left the field, giggling together while you stuffed the wet blanket back into your backpack and jumped over mud puddles, the sun was set and gone.
You followed the streetlights home, walking the bikes side by side the entire time so the 20 minute ride turned into an hour walk.
You went a few streets without talking for a while, listening to the sounds of your tires rolling over gravel or the music nature provided from the surrounding woods just off in the distance. By the time you were crossing back into city limits and setting your sights on the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town, your curiosity was weighing on you.
“Why did you move here anyways?” You were mumbling on accident so you weren’t sure he had heard you until he cleared his throat.
“A council member caught dad hitting mom.” He said it casually and you wondered if he was used to it or it was a practiced tone. “I guess they thought it’d look bad to punish him there so they sent us away.”
“Does he hit you too?” You weren’t sure why you asked that considering you were already pretty positive of the answer.
“Yeah sometimes.” He shrugged and tried not to fidget at the feeling of you watching him, kicking at a loose rock in the gravel road. “I think he’s mad I’m not very manly.”
“I think you’re manly.” You were frowning and furrowing your eyebrows, only deepening when you heard him let out a disbelieving scoff. “I’m serious.”
And you were. Despite Jake’s outwardly timid personality and the way he basically turned into a nervous obedient puppy everytime you got your hands on him, he was clearly a man. Both in his broad athletic build and in his day to day actions and personality. He was blunt and honest, telling you what he felt even if he thought it might anger you.
“Yeah, whatever.” He was whispering, still not trusting what you were saying and you froze in your tracks, stood directly under a streetlight. He slowed to a stop when he realized you were walking anymore and looked back at you in confusion.
“You wouldn’t have picked on me if I was manly.” He was explaining once he caught sight of your frustrated expression. “You probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
“You think I’m picking on you?” You ignored his second statement for now, eyes darkening at the implication of the first.
You weren’t sure why it struck a nerve within you considering he wasn’t half wrong. You had originally sought him out as a victim for you, an experiment or a game. Maybe even a way to further upset your mother, but you didn’t think he thought you were picking on him entirely.
“I don’t know what to think.” He was shaking his head and his eyes looked sad. He started to push his bike again and you rushed to catch up with him. “This is just confusing.”
“Well I’m not.” You kept your voice firm in an attempt to assure him and he didn’t say anything else, sparing you a long glance before looking back forward so he didn’t accidentally hit a pothole.
The two of you didn’t talk anymore after that, walking in a comfortable silence as you slowly got to a more familiar area for him and he realized you were slowly approaching his neighborhood. You must be planning on dropping him off before making you own way home he decided.
Those plans were quickly halted when you turned the corner of his street and saw your own parents car in his driveway, right next to the Sim’s. You both froze in place and stared in front of you in horror.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence.” He whispered and you jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, the words shaking slightly. “We can tell them we got caught up studying at the park.”
“If they’re here they already know.” You immediately stated in a flat voice, having a sick gut feeling as you looked at the two cars. The lights were on in Jake’s living room and you could vaguely make out multiple shadows walking around inside. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe your dad heard something the other day.” He was rushing out in a hush, looking at you and your uncharacteristically frozen figure. He’d never seen you scared before and it made his skin crawl. “Or that lady in the basement.”
“No that’s not possible, I was-“ Your words faltered and you sucked in a panicked breath, trying to recall the two incidents he was talking about. You had been so caught up in your giddiness to talk to him that you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings this morning at all, saying damning idiotic things to him in the church of all places.
His hand was coming up and brushing against your arm that was covered in goosebumps. “Go home. I’ll think of a cover for you, I’ll handle it.”
You looked at him with big eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the fact he was willingly to lie for you so easily, willing to sin to both his parents and yours so you could be spared from punishment.
“I can’t leave you with them.” You were shaking your head in earnest and he deflated, understanding immediately there was no way of talking you out of it.
You both stood there for a few more beats, staring at each other under the street light and you briefly wondered if you’d see him again after this. You weren’t sure what your parents knew or if they were just following a strong hunch but you knew it didn’t matter. The second they suspected anything, atleast the men, you wouldn’t be allowed to see Jake anymore.
Eventually he took the first step, setting his bike down at the corner of the street and nudging for you to follow suit although you gave him a confused glance.
Following closely behind him, you tried to match his slow casual pace approaching the door and almost felt like you were going to throw up on the porch when he pushed it open without knocking, deciding to not give them any warning you were approaching.
The sight was just as dreadful as you imagined it would be, your parents sat on the Sim’s old couch while his were standing at attention and listening to whatever it was your father had been saying before your arrival.
All heads turned in your direction when you entered, half looking surprised you were together and the others showing no reaction. Your mother was immediately leaping up from the couch and approaching you with a scowl.
You felt her hand hitting your cheek before you even processed she was crossing the room, your head shooting sideways as your own palms came up to grasp your face in shock. Despite your differences, your mother had never directly struck you.
“You’re a disgrace.” She spat, literally, in your direction and you vaguely saw Jake flinch in your direction like he wanted to grab you. “No more games little girl, they finally see what I have all these years.”
One glance in your fathers direction told you she was telling the truth. He’d never been a good father but he wasn’t cruel, choosing religion over warmth and parenting. So upon seeing his cold stare you automatically knew things were too far gone.
“And you.” She was turning to sneer in Jake’s direction now and you were slightly surprised to see him square back his shoulders, jaw clenching. “How can you be so stupid?”
“Mary, please advise yourself on how you speak to my son.” Jake’s mother was piling up from the couch “I thought we agreed that your daughter is the one at fault here.”
“What?” Jake was spitting out and your eyes widened, wanting to tell him to shut up and let it run its course. “It was as much me as it was her.”
“No it wasn’t.” You were shaking your head at lightning speed, taking a step forward but rocking back again when your mother shot a glare in your direction. “It was all me.”
Jake was glaring at you but you knew he held no anger, only frustration that you were attempting to take the punishment for this. He was crazy to think you wouldn’t considering it was all your doing in the first place.
“It doesn’t matter.” Your fathers cool and calm voice was ringing out and everybody turned to look at him. “Tomorrow morning Y/N will be sent to a correctional school. I should’ve listened to your mother when she begged me to send you years ago.”
Your eyes were watering as you looked at him with pure betrayal. Despite your hatred for your town, for your longing to leave and never return you felt an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of being sent away. You looked over at Jake to find him already watching you with the same panic in his eyes.
Then he was turning back towards your father with a shake of his head and a stony expression. “I won’t let you do that.”
Jake’s father scoffed, making his first noise of the night and you glanced over at his large frame. He was watching Jake with disgust and amusement but you saw a faint hint of a challenge in his eyes.
“And what will you do son?” He was approaching Jake with a sneer, looking down at him. Jake raised his chin to meet his stare, his hands shaking against his sides. “You can’t even protect your own mother.”
It was said in a whisper so only Jake could hear it but you were standing close enough to faintly catch it, mouth parting in shock at his blunt admission before opening further when Jake was suddenly moving faster than you could even pinpoint when he had started.
Jake was on his father before he even had a chance to prepare for it and you could hear the shrieks of the women, your own fathers grunts as he jumped off the couch to try and control the situation. You were standing on the side, hands out and trying to grip a hold of Jake’s jacket to tug him back when he glanced back at your hurriedly while his dad was disoriented.
“Go.” He mouthed the word at you and you felt your heart shatter slightly, shaking your head in denial before he gave you a firm nod and a soft smile.
You could do nothing but watch in horror as his dad took advantage of him being distracted, slamming Jake onto the ground, nearly blocking the front door. You took your chance to run before somebody realized you were going to and stopped you, sparing Jake one last look before heading out the door.
You aggressively wiped your tears as you ran down the street, sobbing as you could still hear the screams and grunts of pain from Jake coming from the door you’d left open. Your cheek was stinging still but you powered through it, letting the cold numb you as you hopped on your bike you’d abandoned under the light and started peddling so hard your thighs burned.
The wind was howling as you sped past your own neighborhood and the church, the empty buildings a blur through your teary eyes and you fell off your bike once you finally approached the field you’d been in earlier that day, landing in the mud with a cry.
You left your bike near the entrance, wobbling closer to the river with harsh sobs ripping through you, your knees and skirt dripping in mud.
For a moment you wondered if this was it. If you’d been wrong your entire life about religion and sin and this was god letting you know he was here and he was furious with you for the evil you let harvest.
If taking Jake and hurting him was all because you had done bad things and harmed the people around you. You let out a scream of frustration and looked up at the dark grey, wanting to tell him you didn’t care if he was watching and it wasn’t fair.
Instead you let yourself fall against the wet grass, curling into a ball and hugging your knees to your chest as you listened to the rushing river and the honks of traffic. You briefly remembered you were still wearing your backpack and it contained a blanket you could cover up with but you had no energy left to reach back to get it.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there crying, the sky getting darker and darker as you sat and waited.
You weren’t positive what you were even waiting for. Maybe for your parents to come searching for you so they could drag you away to some far away place or maybe the more hopeful part of you was waiting for Jake to come, to tell you he was okay.
The thought of him made you cry harder when you remembered the sounds he was making as you ran out and how furious his father looked about being struck. A man with an ego was dangerous especially when it got wounded.
Waves of guilt were rushing over you for dragging Jake into your twisted fantasies, for wanting to keep him even after you’d gotten what you wanted. For liking him despite not knowing you were capable of that until he arrived. You wished the river would fill up and swallow you inside it.
Over all the combined sounds you barely registered a few being added.
You didn’t hear the sound of the bike tires approaching, or the splashing of the mud puddles underneath hurried feet. You didn’t hear his worried pants or the desperate call of your name in the distance.
It wasn’t until he was there did you feel him, it wasn’t until he was reaching down to grab your arm.
Not until it was skin on skin.
#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fanfiction#jake enhypen#heeseung#heeseung drabbles#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#jake x reader#sunghoon enhypen#jake drabbles#jake au#jake smut#jake fluff#jake fanfic#jake sim#enhypen smut
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DAY 12: DANGANTOBER
Day 12: Remnants of Despair
AT LAST, AT LONG, LONG LAST! IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING! THE EVENT ONE BILLION YEARS PROPHESIZED HAS COME TO PASS! THE DAY HAS COME! I FINALLY GET TO RANT ABOUT THE REMNANTS! Hats off to you if you know what I was referencing just now, lol.
I've said this a lot, but I really love the Remnants of Despair. They're my favorite part of the Danganronpa story, and I think they're criminally underused. There's just so much potential to explore and work with, and it's something that plagues my mind 24/7. Their designs are awesome, their psychology is interesting, and further exploring them not only paints a more detailed picture of the characters, but of the Danganronpa world as a whole. In this post, I'll be talking about EVERYTHING, from what they did, to how they look, whatever comes to mind, really.
For those of you who have forgotten the details of the Remnants, never played or watched UDG, or just never watched the episodes of the anime where we get information about them, here's a recap.
So, hopefully everyone reading this is familiar with the cast of SDR2. That group of students are the ones who go on to become the Remnants of Despair (+Hajime, even though he was just a reserve course student at the time). While they were at Hope's Peak, they rarely hung out with one another. Their teacher, Chisa Yukizome, rounded up everybody and made them start coming to class so they could form connections with each other. This class of students consisted of Teruteru, Peko, Mahiru, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Mikan, Gundham, Nekomaru, Nagito, Chiaki, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, Kazuichi, Akane, and Imposter pretending to be a character named Ryota Mitarai (who will be discussed later in this post). After a few days of knowing each other, and a certain soup-related incident that I will not ruin this post with, Chiaki is named as the class representative.
As each day passed by, the class grows closer together, and closer to people outside of class as well. Chiaki makes friends with Hajime, and Mikan finds out about the real Ryota, and about Junko and Mukuro. Junko uses Mikan as a test subject for her despair video, and it works on her. She doesn't show up to class anymore, and one day, someone spots her on campus, so everyone goes searching for her. Nagito and Chiaki stumble across a hidden passageway, where they find Junko and Izuru. Nagito is injured in the interaction, and Chisa provides a distraction for the two of them to get away.
I fear I am jealous of Nagito here lmao. Chiaki and Nagito go back to the rest of the class, who found Mikan, and they all decide to go back for Chisa. Meanwhile, Junko has already brainwashed Chisa, and her master plan is set into motion. The class walks through the secret passageway, and Mikan separates Chiaki from everyone else. Chiaki runs into Chisa, who leads her to an elevator that takes her to a dungeon-like obstacle course, full of spikes and boulders. She must escape to get back to her friends, and Chiaki actually manages to reach the end. Unfortunately, she's been tricked, and she gets impaled by multiple spikes, dying from her injuries in a scene I will never forget.
The others are shown the footage of her death, and they begin to feel despair over the traumatic loss of their friend. Taking advantage of their anguish, Junko begins to play her despair video for the class, brainwashing them into Ultimate Despairs, who are then let loose to cause chaos in the world. The next time we hear about them as an active group, it's at Makoto's hearing for disobeying the Future Foundation to help them. There, we get this picture.
Whoever designed them ate, I fear. As the Remnants of Despair, they use their ultimate talents to spread despair in unique ways, from building weapons of mass destruction, aiding other subsidiary groups of despair, to tyrannical takeovers of certain parts of the world.
Anyways, Makoto manages to rehabilitate them in SDR2, and its a happily ever after for them as reformed, wanted dead or alive war criminals <3 But, a lot of what they did, with the exception of Nagito, is left up in the air for us fans to theorize about.
Speaking of Nagito, let's talk about Servant first. Nagito basically became a single father as a Remnant. As Servant, Nagito's job is to watch over and aid the Warriors of Hope, consisting of Masaru Daimon, Jataro Kemuri, Kotoko Utsugi, Nagisa Shingetsu, and Monaca Towa. He's the only Remnant that we really get to see in action, being a pivotal character in Ultra Despair Girls.
Nagito is unique from the rest of the Remnants in many ways. He's not expressly violent like many of them are, preferring to be more manipulative in his methods. Despite his title, he pulls the strings of a lot of things that happen in UDG. When he's not making milkshakes for those tyrannical little gremlins, or being outed by Kurokuma, he's blackmailing and kidnapping members of the Future Foundation, like Toko and Byakuya respectively. He's tricking the kids, working under the guise of being subservient to them and their want to create a paradise for children, instead working with Monaca to bring about Junko's successor.
He also has a very strange relationship when it comes to Junko. While a lot of the others seem to view her as their leader, he hates her with every ounce of his being. That's the entire reason he's working to bring a form of her back after her death. The idea of her being alive once again causes him intense despair. He even says that he's jealous of Makoto, because he wanted to be the one to kill Junko himself. He despises her for turning everyone away from hope, including himself. But, he also still seems to have some kind of twisted appreciation for her as well, stating that she's the woman he loves and hates the most. After the plan to create Junko's successor falls through in UDG, he decides to raise Monaca to be Junko's successor herself, stating that because he loves and hates her so much, he can recreate her perfectly.
Nagito's also one of the three Remnants who actually scavenged from Junko's dead body, the other two being Mikan and Fuyuhiko. Nagito took Junko's arm, replacing his own with it. Looking at it causes him despair, since now she's stuck as a part of him. It's unclear what else he did, but we know he was just as, if not more, overzealous about it as he is about hope. It's his maniacal nature that manages to turn Monaca off from despair in the anime, saying that she'd rather not end up as crazy as him. For a character who was so determined to usher in a new era of despair, the fact that Nagito was too crazy even for her, speaks volumes. Don't worry, these other sections won't be as long, since there's not much info about them besides fanon.
Next up, Kazuichi Souda. The only bit of real content we get of him is a small compilation in one of the episodes, showing him working on a large Monokuma robot. This Monokuma robot was featured in the end of Ultra Despair Girls, nicknamed 'Big Bang Monokuma' by everyone's LEAST FAVORITE CHARACTER, Haiji Towa. Haiji is nasty, and if you like him, he's one of the characters I CANNOT see why you'd like him. Haiji likers, DNI.
Anyways, aside from working on Big Bang Monokuma, it can also be inferred that he would go out with weapons and either supply or fire them in crowded areas. After all, there's only one character we know of who would match the dude in the beanie.
I personally believe that Kazuichi was mainly responsible for two major things. The different Monokumas that can be found around Towa City, such as Ball and Junk Monokuma, and the executions from THH.
My biggest piece of evidence for that above claim, comes from Kazuichi's free time events, where he says that he wants to build the fastest motorcycle ever, even though he'd be too scared to ride it. Aside from being the only character in this lineup(apart from Izuru) who could feasibly make the executions, Mondo dies from a motorcycle that can go fast enough to liquify him.
Also, I think that each Remnant went against their personal life goals mentioned in the final episode of despair arc, to create maximum despair. They are asked to state what they want to do with their lives, and they say things like "solve all diseases", "create peace treaties", "increase animal welfare" etc. Kazuichi says that his personal goal is to eliminate all pollution from the atmosphere, so I think he'd be responsible for polluting the air even more, dumping oil in the seas. He is the reason the sky is red, and why Hope's Peak needs an air purifier for the participants in that game. Poor guy, when he's not simping for Sonia, he seems like an actually pretty chill person to be around, especially in those final episodes.
Speaking of Sonia's simps, next is Gundham. We see him in that compilation, surrounded by all sorts of animals. Snakes, elephants, giraffes, you name it. Though, notably, the Four Dark Devas/Twelve Zodiac Generals (all hamsters, the devas are part of the twelve), are absent from the line up.
It can be deduced that Gundham released dangerous animals from zoos and sanctuaries, letting them run amok through major cities. He managed to rally the animals together, training them to be very destructive, and ultimately uses them in battles against the Future Foundation.
Gundham doesn't have anything he sets out to do with his life, at least nothing he voices in the final episode, so maybe he wanted to create a safe place for animals to live happily, and weaponizing them would cause him despair.
To explain away the disappearance of his hamsters, I think he released them as a final act of humanity and care for them. I think he knew that he'd be mistreating all the animals he held dear, and he wanted to give the hamsters a chance to escape. ESPECIALLY if he's going to be having snakes and birds around them, that's a recipe for the hamsters to be eaten.
I feel very bad for Mikan. She was the first one that fell to Junko's influence, the first one to be rewritten in such a way. She even watches the video a second time, which means she's probably one of the most far gone.
Like Nagito, Mikan is one of the three Remnants who took a body part from Junko's corpse. She took her uterus, and replaced her own with it, in hope's of carrying on Junko's legacy. She's also the one who probably attached the arm to Nagito, and the eye to Fuyuhiko.
In the final episode, Mikan says she wants to create a miracle cure for all diseases. As such, I can see her poisoning medical supplies, much like the real-life Tylenol Murders. She would probably hurt those who are sick and weak, and quite possibly experimented on people. As a medical professional, she was probably responsible for making sure the Remnants who frequented active combat against the Future Foundation were healthy and in peak condition.
I've also seen some people say she probably worked on ways to brainwash people through chemicals, and likely used captured Future Foundation soldiers as test subjects.
Akane and Nekomaru are the fighters of the group. They go out, and their main job is to cause as much stress for the Future Foundation as humanly possible. They're both heavy hitters, and that'd definitely be a hard thing for the Future Foundation to beat.
Akane's goal for her life simply boiled down to eating her fill of food, while Nekomaru said he would support everyone's dreams. I think he may have acted as support for the other's plans, kind of freelance depending on which Remnant required his services at the time.
We know one of the Remnants starved themselves, I believe it was Akane. Food brought her joy, so to cause despair she limited herself. In the anime, she's seen with abs, but I think they were just scared of showing her ribs. It's honestly a wonder that she would be able to fight at all. She fights with everything she's got, running off of despair, spite and mania.
Fuyuhiko and Peko occupy a similar area as Akane and Nekomaru. In fact, I think Nekomaru and Akane probably partnered with or joined Fuyuhiko's group of soldiers. All four of them fight against the Future Foundation, keeping their field agents on their toes and actively fighting against any sort of helpful effort by them.
In the final episode, Fuyuhiko says that he and Peko will lead the people in the Kuzuryu Clan down the right path, since he doesn't want to keep perpetuating violence. He wants them to get good educations and lead good lives. Peko says that she'd never kill again. For Peko to be actively fighting in battles across Japan, means she's actively causing the pain she didn't want to. Peko wants to be seen as more approachable, so to be one of the main Remnants in charge of causing chaos must be awful for her. For Fuyuhiko to take a step back and use the people in his clan to cause despair, he's also violating his life goals, and his want to not be reliant on the Kuzuryu Clan. It's the same reason he wants a degree of separation between himself and Peko in SDR2. He doesn't want to be seen as weaker, and he doesn't want to use the people around him.
Imposter is definitely an enigma character. There isn't much information about them when they're not in disguise as either Byakuya or Ryota (who deserves his own post, what I have to say may be a hot take). You can infer though, that they're actually a very caring person. When they notice Ryota engaging in unhealthy behaviors, they make sure that he eats and sleeps when required, and assumes his identity to give him a break. You can also see it in-game, where the more you hang out with them, the less they act like Byakuya, and more like a kind leader figure. Personally, I call Imposter Touya, since it sounds like a combo of "Two" and "Byakuya", and people already call them Twogami. It also means ''all the more, increasingly'' like their talent.
In the final episode, they aren't in disguise as anyone, and they say that they could become anyone they want, including the president. There's a strong desire within them to become their own person, to be seen for who they are, and not as the person they're impersonating.
It's intriguing, as in Remnant form, they're dressed like Byakuya. I think that Touya assumes the identities of various important figures in society, and infiltrates certain organizations whilst doing so. Since they're currently acting as Byakuya, I think Touya has infiltrated what's left of Togami Corporation, and is working to destroy their reputation. Maybe after Byakuya joins the Future Foundation, Touya tries to make it look like he's betraying them during different missions. Maybe that's why he's never out in the field unless it's absolutely necessary.
Teruteru Hanamura. I think there's a consensus on what we all agree he did while under despair. In the final episode, he says that he will feed everyone tons of nutritious food, and end world hunger. On top of that, he's someone who values his family a lot, especially his mother and siblings.
Teruteru is implied to use drugs in his food to make it taste better. It's an already disturbing theme with the food-oriented ultimates, with Ruruka using Seiko (the Ultimate Pharmacist) to enhance her sweets. In Teruteru's free time events, he feeds Hajime a simple rice ball, and Hajime leaves that interaction feeling like he's been drugged from how drowsy he is. Teruteru also keeps drugs around his food normally, evidence being the infamous soup scene. He may have poisoned his food, or used certain drugs to manipulate people to do bad things while in a weakened state of mind.
There's also an almost mutual agreement that I've seen in the fanbase, that he possibly turned his family into food. For how much he values them, I could definitely see that happening as a possibility, and it's such a terrible thought. For the life of me, I hope that isn't the case, and that Teruteru's mom and siblings are still out there in the world, ready to reunite with him once things have cooled down.
I've lumped Sonia and Mahiru together because this is the only picture of Mahiru as a Remnant. Anyways, starting with Mahiru, I think she traveled across the world, taking pictures of all the destruction and carnage as a result of the Tragedy. She likely also blackmailed high ranking officials and celebrities, bringing them under the thumb of Ultimate Despair and granting them more power over the general population.
In her free time events, Mahiru states that her mother was a war photographer. Her mom would go to scenes of destruction, take pictures, and sell them to news outlets. Mahiru says that, while she respects her mother, she doesn't want to take pictures of war. She wants to capture people's smiles and happy scenes of people living their lives. Going around and taking those sorts of pictures amidst the worst event in human history would definitely cause Mahiru despair. That can be seen in the picture as well, taking pictures of Sonia, likely declaring war or commencing public executions in her kingdom of Novoselic.
At the end of the final episode, Sonia says that she wants to make Novoselic into a peaceful kingdom, one with no wars. Once she becomes a Remnant, she forces her people to commit mass suicide, declares war on nearby countries, and executes people in her own country, supposedly including her parents so she may have sole power. The people who do not die in her initial takeover are likely added to the Novoselic army, serving under her and for her every whim. For someone who wanted to be seen as an equal by her peers, and not treated differently for her status, I can see her feeling very upset with herself knowing that she ruled her kingdom with tyranny and terror, and made people treat her as such a higher power.
Next is the girl group duo, Ibuki and Hiyoko. I think their combined abilities probably made the other's very potent, and its an interesting team-up. They aren't shown doing anything too bad, merely putting on an evil concert.
In the final episode, Ibuki says she wants to use her music to spread happiness, while Hiyoko says she wants to use dance to spread joy.
I don't really know what they would've done to spread despair. Maybe Hiyoko hit the griddy and it made people very upset. In actuality, I believe that Hiyoko probably employed methods similar to snake charmers, and managed to work in some form of hypnosis into her performances. That would be able to turn the masses against one another, and against other people.
Ibuki, on the other hand, definitely worked subliminal messages into her music, causing people to perform certain actions or think certain things for despair. Swifties but evil. Her music was probably also engineered to cause the most discomfort, with screeching guitar riffs and loud drums. Headaches and injuries would be prevalent at their concerts. I can also see Ibuki just smashing her guitar and wielding it as a weapon if facing off against Future Foundation members.
You can even hear a sample of her music on Spotify, since in the final episode of the anime, the rehabilitated Remnants go to help the trapped Future Foundation members, and she plays a song to incapacitate the brainwashed Future Foundation members. Listen if you dare!
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It's finally time to talk about my BOY! I want to save some of my thoughts for his own post, and I honestly think this post is getting very long. For context, I started writing at 3pm, and it's now 10pm. Granted, I watched a movie and did some homework, but that's not the point here. I don't classify Izuru as a Remnant of Despair. I know he is one, but his circumstances are different. To understand Izuru, we need to start with Hajime.
Hajime starts the series as a reserve course student, someone with no talent, yet he idolizes Hope's Peak. He wants to be an ultimate so badly, that he'd do almost anything to do so. He has a bad habit of comparing himself to other people around him, basing his self-worth against theirs. So, in a school full of exceptional people, he's at an all time low. He has no friends, and feels like his goal is out of his reach. For as much as he wants to be an ultimate, we never get an idea of what he wants his ultimate to be. He has no plans for what it is, all he knows is he wants one. To feel important. To feel special. Because he doesn't see himself as anyone of worth.
He is approached by a group called the Steering Committee, which Tengan is loosely involved with. They propose the Kamukura Project to him, which is meant to give him a talent. He obviously really like this idea, but the idea of getting a talent artificially rubs him the wrong way. It's unknown if his parents know what's been proposed to him. One day, thinking by the fountain, he meets Chiaki, and they quickly become friends, bonding over video games. After that, they meet up regularly to game and talk by the fountain. One day, Fuyuhiko's little sister, Natsumi, ends up in his class, and he briefly meets her. Towards the end of the day, he finds her crying by herself, saying that she wants to be seen as the Ultimate Little Sister because Fuyuhiko only deserves the best in his life. Hajime starts to apply this to his friendship with Chiaki, believing he's not worthy of being her friend.
Still, he tries to keep his chin up and not let it bother him. He's hard-headed and hasn't been broken down yet. That's shattered when he tries to go to the ultimates course building for an important question (WATCH THE ANIME) and he gets beat up by Juzo. That very day, he meets with Chiaki, tells her to make tons of memories and have lots of fun for him, and then on, they never see each other again.
He accepts the Kamukura Project, and they begin at once. In the anime, it's done as a very quick procedure, but in real life, it'd be months and months of surgeries, mental conditioning, and medical tests. Soon, Hajime is completely erased from his mind, and is replaced by a figurative blank slate they name Izuru Kamukura. Interestingly, they call him Izuru Kamukura 1.0, implying there were supposed to be more after him. He was essentially a beta test, one that likely wasn't meant to make it this far. They likely expected him to die from the experimental procedures.
He is left on his own for days on end, until eventually Junko finds out about him. Her and Mukuro go to his little room, and try to get him to join despair. He initially declines, not seeing the purpose behind doing so. They invite him to the student council killing game, and there he feels some semblance of an emotion, so he continues. He is there, lurking in the background for many subsequent scenes.
The scene that is most important is Chiaki's death. She dies slowly in that scene, and Izuru is there, watching her. She recognizes him, reaching out towards him because he was her friend. At her death, he finds himself actually feeling something.
He's crying. Something he didn't think was possible. It is unknown if Hajime's repressed pain and despair was so powerful that it was finally felt in this moment, or if Izuru was just intrigued and confused by the idea of someone using their last moments to reach out to him. Nevertheless, he sticks with Junko's plans for despair, and is the reason she even ends up in SDR2. He's still effected by Chiaki's death long after this scene, expressing what can be confused for anger at the end of UDG when Junko starts to mock the way she'd greet him. He rips the wiring out of Shirokuma and Kurokuma's heads, taking only what he needs for the plan.
Izuru wasn't brainwashed, at least, not by Junko. The Kamukura Project deserves it's own post, but here's the rundown. He is supposed to be the Ultimate Everything, in peak physical and mental form. The surgeries needed to give him the strength capacity for the athletic ultimates would've involved breaking every bone in his body and rebuilding him from there, strengthening him enough to be able to launch Mukuro across the room with a flick of his hand. He would be injected with a cocktail of chemicals, made to increase mental abilities like memory, and possibly growth hormones for certain aspects of his body. That would explain why his hair is so incredibly long and dark, and why his eyes are red.
On the mental front, yes, he'd undergo numerous brain surgeries. Likely around the hippocampus and amygdala, they'd sever connections related to his original identity, which would also damage his ability to feel. Your emotional receptors are in those areas, and maybe ruining those sections were by design. After all, Hope's Peak is shady, and maybe they were trying to create some kind of unfeeling superweapon. Theory for another day. They left him near emotionless, with all the logical processing needed to complete any task needed, like a robot. They left him purposeless, craving entertainment of any kind. This makes him easier to use, easier to employ as a tool. If he is lacking purpose, he'd do anything you ask in order to feel anything other than emptiness. This is something Junko appeals to, since despair would be unpredictable and exciting for him.
I think he grows bored quickly, since after a while, anarchy becomes its own kind of order. There is still humanity in Izuru, he holds onto Chiaki's hairpin, and when Makoto finds him, he's nurturing a flower.
This scene is part of the reason why Makoto believes the Remnants are able to be saved. An unfeeling, despair-ridden monster wouldn't take the time to be so kind to something as small as a flower.
This scene is so moving when you watch it.
I think as a "Remnant", Izuru was merely an observer. I don't think he did anything except watch, only intervening when he felt it'd provide him some entertainment. Once he got bored, and only had Junko's USB stick plan, he'd probably find some way to make it easier for Makoto get everyone together, if only to enact that plan for that final bit of entertainment.
Is it obvious that I love Izuru?
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Original Creator: Jayce Jole on YouTube
I spent a while learning psychology, and it's always been a big interest for me. Like with the factors pertaining to Izuru, the Remnants also have unique traits that explain why they act the way they act.
They were brainwashed by the subliminal messages that Ryota and Junko had placed in the video, that's why they're so deep in despair. But what is brainwashing? Brainwashing is a form of mental conditioning, that can essentially reprogram the mind to adopt radically different beliefs, ideas, and morals to the ones already carried by the victim. Brainwashing is not mind control, but it's conditioning.
They had their morals completely rewritten to align with Junko and despair. That's part of the reason I think Nagito is as different as he is. I think hope was such an engrained value within him, that he still holds onto despite his despair. The mental reprogramming is in constant conflict with his closely held beliefs.
There are many real examples of brainwashing, most notably within cults and real-life criminal organizations. They take advantage of vulnerable people, and make them change everything about themselves to align with these new ideas. Junko took advantage of their grief over seeing Chiaki die so gruesomely, and changed them fundamentally. They are not inherently evil people, they were not mind controlled into being evil people. They are people who were taken advantage of and conditioned into going against who they were. It's so saddening, they're teenagers, teenagers who should be going into job fields and colleges and living their lives, instead of terrorizing the world. Grief is a powerful, yet human emotion, and it's one that was easily controlled and manipulated by Junko. That's why Makoto took a chance on them as well. He didn't see the terrible people they had been turned into, he saw the hurt, grieving people underneath and wanted to help them.
It's also sickening how Junko only did all this so the Tragedy would carry on while she was masterminding the Hope's Peak killing game. The Remnants are nothing more than a backup plan to her, people she views as "not useful". They only exist to keep spreading despair while she is away, and that's sickening. She brainwashed them and not her own class, BECAUSE she doesn't value the Remnants. She cared about her classmates, so she wanted to feel the despair of watching them suffer. She merely saw the Remnants as tools, ruined their lives just for her own benefit.
I think there could have been an entire anime arc about them. Show Makoto, or Ryota, or some other character trying to rehabilitate them. How did they manage to track them down, and bring them to Jabberwock Island without dying or being discovered by the Future Foundation? How did they manage to stabilize them enough mentally to enter the Neo World Program? How did Izuru manage to get that USB stick past whoever was helping them? What were they like after waking up from the NWP with all their progress erased? If the survivors were normal, how did they handle seeing their friends in such a state? What impact did they do to the world? They could provide a clearer image of the Tragedy itself, which isn't really explored past Towa City, and even Towa City has only just recently been affected by the Tragedy. I think there's so much to explore, and so little attention actually given to them.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME YOUR ART, YOUR HEADCANONS, YOUR FICS, YOUR CONFESSIONS, YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF THE REMNANTS! I WILL EAT THEM UP LIKE I AM STARVED! I WILL SUP FROM THE WELL OF FANON AS IF IT IS THE FIRST DRINK OF WATER I'VE HAD IN DECADES! I NEED TO CONSUME EVERY BIT OF MEDIA ABOUT THEM!
I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal-
Anyways, after Dangantober is over, I may introduce my Danganronpa OC to this blog (not as a roleplay thing, but just to yap about him). Mainly, he's a former classmate of theirs, and he's part of their rehabilitation process because I NEED to chew on it like I'm teething.
Here is an edit I made of Chisa Yukizome, and the Remnants (it's short, it was my first one), to a Miss Delight edit audio. Please enjoy it, I was so proud when I finished it <3
Is it obvious now just how much I love the Remnants? They NEEDED more screentime, I'm not kidding on that front. Imagine everything that could've been explored, how much of their actions was the brainwashing, and how much was them acting out in twisted grief?
What did each person do while under despair? Was any guilt felt? How did they react after being rehabilitated? How are they living now with the knowledge of what they've done?
They were just grieving kids, kids who were taken advantage of and used for evil purposes. But I also agree that the Remnants are not blameless in their actions. They must live with this guilt forever, constantly on the run for what they've done, and yet, they have each other.
When I found out that UDG was SUPPOSED to be about facing the Remnants of Despair as either Makoto or Komaru, before it was changed to be the WOH, I was UPSET! Someone, PLEASE MAKE THAT A REAL GAME, I'D PAY YOU EVERYTHING IN MY WALLET AND BANK ACCOUNTS!
Make merch of the Remnants, all of them, not just the Servant pop-up parade and Izuru plushie.
#danganronpa#dangantober#remnants of despair#danganronpa 2#sdr2#Youtube#izuru kamukura#nagito komaeda#chiaki nanami#servant nagito#hajime hinata#kazuichi souda#gundham tanaka#sonia nevermind#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#peko pekoyama#nekomaru nidai#teruteru hanamura#ultimate imposter#ryota mitarai#mahiru koizumi#hiyoko saionji#ibuki mioda#mikan tsumiki#junko enoshima#mukuro ikusaba#chisa yukizome
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Aventurine Is BPD Coded- Some Thoughts
Ahhh welcome back everybody to another installment of 'Rory writes a ridiculously long essay nobody asked for to shine light on characters who exhibit symptoms of borderline personality disorder so that we can learn to recognize symptoms portrayed in media that aren't just 'crazy manipulative abusive ex' and start to treat the disorder with a shred of compassion' !!
A good chunk of you follow me because of my essay I wrote on Reo Mikage from Blue Lock, my beautiful borderline princess, and I am PLEASED to announce that my essay is now the first result when you search 'Reo Mikage BPD' on Google, AND he has since been added to the BPD character database !! Saving the world one baddie at a time, no need to thank me B)
Today, I want to write something out that I've been dying to share. I think Aventurine can be read as a BPD coded character, and I think he would be able to cop a diagnosis should he go see a therapist (which we all know he CLEARLY has not done). I've been puttering around posting this because I've been spending so long on a full, all encompassing analysis of this sick blonde man, but I want to take a quick break and kick my feet over BPD Aventurine, so I invite you to come kick your feet with me!
Some context before I start:
1.) Borderline representation is extremely important to me. I've got the BPD / CPTSD combo meal, so I'm having TWICE the fun !! But seriously though, it's not easy being viewed as crazy and 'bad' all the time. Trauma disorders are rough enough as it is just to live with / overcome, but it's worse when there are books, forums, blogs, shows, ect. dedicated to hating you and talking about how evil you are. So, I get really excited when I spy BPD-coded characters (especially if they're likable people and not just ghoulish irredeemable villains or manic pixie dream girl characters). Fans, characters, and even Aventurine himself refer to him as 'crazy' 'insane' 'unstable' which only further rang my BPD bells because he's not crazy; he's just traumatized!
2.) I’m not a psych, so I obviously can’t diagnose real people, and don’t use any of this to diagnose yourself (I don't need the scandal!) I do, however, have a masters degree in English and structured the basis of my education and published my thesis on mental health, cluster B personality disorders specifically, so I read and research a LOT. I’m confident enough in my knowledge to diagnose anime characters (lol).
3.) If you're somebody who has a weird hangup about borderlines, feel free to either not read this, or do read it and soak up some useful information! Regardless, I know Aventurine fans can have some really wild takes (/neg) , so believe what you want at the end of the day! This is just my interpretation of what's festering in that sad brain of his. You can disagree all you want to, but what we're not going to do is spread hateful stereotypes or perpetuate negative stigmas about BPD! That's cornball behavior and I will call you out for it ^-^
CW for discussion of death, suicide, self injury, and identity disturbances
Anyways, if you ask me, Aventurine has a case of Beautiful Princess Disorder, and I'd like to explain why <3 So, buckle up! This will be another long one.
First, let me define BPD: it's a personality disorder characterized by a long-standing pattern of instability in mood, interpersonal relationships, and self-image. Though it's coined as a 'personality disorder', I urge you to look at it as a trauma disorder. People most often develop it when they are repeatedly traumatized during their formative years. It actually overlaps a TON with complex post traumatic stress disorder, which is why a lot of us baddies end up with both! (On that note, you could definitely view Aventurine as CPTSD-coded as well! I'm a stinky kinnie so I'll just say he's both <3) I won't preach too much on why it's so necessary to treat borderline as a traumatic stress disorder (since hopefully I'll be focusing my own personal academic research on that and I could yap for HOURS about it lol).
But when we look at BPD properly, it's evident that the basis of this disorder is that these people didn't have the opportunity to learn and foster proper emotional reactions. Because of the recurring traumatic events, sections of borderline's brains are underdeveloped as a result. They have a smaller amygdala and they have reduced volume in the prefrontal cortex, as well as other differences in brain development. I've heard it described as 'you were forced to learn some behaviors that helped you survive at one point in your life (for example, maybe fervent efforts to avoid abandonment, unstable emotional reactions, self harming tendencies, lying, mirroring, etc.,) but now you need to unlearn them, because they’re no longer helping you.' They're trauma responses.
Aventurine shows us a perfect example of the kind of shit that would make someone develop BPD: dude grew up in extreme poverty, was constantly told he was special and he was supposed to bring good luck, watched his entire family and race die in front of him when he was literally still just a kid, was kidnapped and sold into slavery, was forced to murder roughly 34 people while everybody watched him like it was a game, probably went through several other fucked up things while he was enslaved, and then killed his slave owner and was promptly sentenced to death for it. That's...a whole lot of ridiculous trauma that would severely impact somebody's ability to mentally grow and develop correctly. The bulk of his childhood/adolescence was spent with no safety, no security, overwhelming guilt, constant fight or flight reactions, learning how to take on other personas to avoid violence or mistreatment – you get the point. He did not have a normal life and it is absolutely probable that he would develop a trauma disorder from the shit he's been through.
So then, what behaviors/signs does somebody need to exhibit to receive a Borderline diagnosis? The 9 diagnostic criteria for BPD are as follows:
1. Fear of abandonment
2. Unstable or changing relationships
3. Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self
4. Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors
5. Suicidal behavior or self-injury
6. Varied or random mood swings
7. Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness
8. Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights
9. Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality
As with my last post, I'm going to organize this based on the 5 immediate traits I think Aventurine exhibits most (you only need 5 out of 9 to receive a diagnosis, so let me cut to the chase and stop wasting your time w my yapping).
Fear of Abandonment:
Aventurine has a habit of wanting relationships and then pushing them away once they get too close. He also clearly has trauma associated with losing people prematurely.
First of all, let's look at Aventurine's tendency to view relationships as transactional. With the expectation that a friendship, partnership – whatever – is mutually beneficial, that generally implies both parties will leave satisfied once the 'transaction' is complete. That’s his parting line in the game, actually! “Satisfied with our transaction, I trust?”
That being said, he's already prepared for people to leave when they're done getting what they want from him. In one trailer (and the game) he refers to himself as "another cog in the machine known as the strategic investment department" and then says, "Your humble servant aventurine at your disposal [...] I can also play the role of ‘friend’ – if needed; Go ahead, use me as you wish, even stab me in the back if you see fit."
This is a very strange thing to say upon first meeting someone LMAO. He's speaking of himself like he's an object, rather than a person. Before the other party even says anything, he's basically saying 'hey btw if you end up disappointing me in some way, i'm already prepared for it!' Establishing relationships with the assumption that the other person will betray you/abandon you/hurt you in some way? Borderline behavior. God forbid somebody does try to break down one of these walls, we'll see Aventurine's second habit to avoid abandonment: pushing people away.
Something people don't necessarily consider is that ‘efforts to avoid abandonment’ doesn't always mean the person is on their knees begging you to not to leave them. It can manifest as someone being very flighty and purposefully cutting ties randomly/pushing people away from them so that nobody is able to abandon them. If you leave first, they can’t leave you, right? This is a very common behavior for borderlines to avoid the pain that comes with being abandoned.
The most notable moment of this, in my opinion, is when Aventurine tries to gaslight himself into thinking that Ratio really did stab him in the back during their ploy against Sunday. As we know, their fighting, bickering, and Ratio's 'betrayal' were all part of Aventurine's plan. When they leave Sunday's office, Ratio immediately asks if he's okay and if he needs help, and Aventurine is very dismissive/a little rude in his response. Ratio is confused because Aventurine is talking as if he wasn't the one who MADE this plan and TOLD Ratio what to do:
Aventurine is basically saying, "Hey babe this is not in the script we talked about! Let's stay on track, remember? You hate me, you betrayed me, and now you're leaving me!" And Ratio is like "Yeah okay but are you good? Because you don't seem good,” but Aventurine's heels are so far in the dirt at this point that he is NOT budging at all. When he's in the Trauma Maze, Future Aventurine grills him on this moment:
I get why this part confused some people; why would Aventurine think this when the plan was his idea in the first place? Because, he subconsciously doesn't want to get too attached to the idea that Ratio might ACTUALLY care about him or want to help him. He's forcing himself to think "no, that's not what he was doing, he was planning on actually ratting me out all along, he was only asking about my wellbeing to get in my head."
However, I think it's evident that Aventurine wants relationships/attention just as much as everybody else does, he just won't let himself have it. To further this idea, I think the lyrics to White Night (the Penacony trailer theme song) are worth looking at (these specifically):
I don't wanna be alone tonightOh, lead me with your altered signThere's no one else left for me to loseHeadin' to the other side, other side
I don't wanna be alone tonightI'll bring you to my best disguise'Cause you don't need, don't need to know the truthLet me rave forever in your life
The song is obviously about Aventurine when you look at the lyrics, but these lines in particular just further my point that this man does NOT like the fact that he's alone. He wants relationships, he wants closeness, but he rejects it at the same time out of fear that he might lose somebody prematurely again and doesn't want to experience being abandoned or being rejected for his personality (his real one or his fake one), which leads me to...
Unstable Self-Image; Struggles With Identity or Sense of Self:
The shift from Kakavasha to Aventurine screwed this guy up REAL bad. A MASSIVE part of Aventurine's character, in my opinion, is his struggle with his identity/sense of self. I mean, he literally had to kill off who he used to be in order to live how he's living now, and he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Jade sums it up pretty well when Aventurine is sat before her on trial:
Aventurine joining the IPC comes with the price of...well, becoming 'Aventurine'. Since I'm clocking him with a BPD diagnosis, the identity disturbance would have probably happened before this moment, and I think it did. I'll bet it started festering after that first massive traumatic event where he watched his family die and tried to rationalize how that was possible with his 'good luck' (since that was really the only consistent idea he had about himself), and it probably only got worse when he became fixated on the fact that whoever tf he is, he's only worth 60 copper coins (did the math – that's about $3). That's gotta cause some massive identity issues. He's coined as this ‘good luck charm’, this ‘blessed child’, a ‘beacon of hope for the Avgins’, and somehow, he ended up in the absolute worst situation possible while simultaneously dooming all of the Avgins (obviously not his fault, but he thinks it's his fault).
When Jade tells him to pick a new identity, ironically he picks one that is everything he probably grew to hate after his childhood/adolescence.
Associating with the wealthy? The rich were the people who paid to brand him and enslave him. The IPC? Promised to help the Avgins but disappeared when the Katicans invaded, then came back and kidnapped him to sell him as a slave. Now he's both wealthy and a part of the IPC, and you have to wonder how he truly feels about it. We'll look into that more later. Regardless, he's not really 'free' now, even if he isn't technically owned by a master anymore. He's chained to the IPC because this is life now; this is his identity. Where else would he even go? What else would he do? (Die, perhaps?) It's not like he can go home, or go live a peaceful life out on the countryside somewhere. He made 'Aventurine' his entire life and his entire personality. On that note, I really like this quote from his third character story:
“The aventurine, that symbol of power and of the future, is about to be officially handed to him — Yet it would have no more allure or value in his eyes as soon he obtains it, even though he had sought it by putting his life on the line.
He returns to his office in a daze. The aventurine stone emits a peculiar glow on his desk, seemingly congratulating and mocking him at the same time."Was luck truly on your side when you wrestled with fate?"”
Did he really luck out with this one? Comparatively, of course, this is better than his life as a slave, but he essentially just traded his rusted chains for golden ones. Becoming Aventurine might wind up bringing him a lot more pain than it was worth.
Also, the outfit he chose? Covered in gold, fur, and jewels, all materials that somebody who knows nothing about being rich would assume rich people wear in excess. It's evident in his tacky taste (sorry honey I love you so much but the hat is just crazy work you look like a pimp) that he doesn't know anything about how to dress himself. And I bully him for being tacky but it makes sense! He dresses exactly how you'd think an out-of-touch billionaire would dress. Back to his sense of identity: it's very important to establish that Aventurine feels guilty about taking on this persona! That's all 'Aventurine' is: a persona. If he were to die tomorrow, the IPC would dust off that stone and give it to another bozo who would end up being the next 'Aventurine'.
While he didn't initially develop this personality subconsciously and it was a 'choice' to start playing this role (not that he had a plethora of alternative options), the perpetuation is damaging him mentally. He does a good job of keeping up the act, obviously. This theme that his entire personality is just one big act is overarching through the entire Penacony quest, but there's one moment in particular I really liked: when Sparkle is being a jerk and he has this offhand comment about how he's so frivolous, vain, and flashy, and how he'd hate to live anywhere where it rained since his outfit is too expensive to get wet.
Then, we have this interaction in the maze: Future Aventurine brings up the memory of him and his big sister playing dead, floating in bloody water to avoid being killed by the Katicans when they attacked. He mentions that it was his father's shirt, the last one his father left behind before dying, and that it was ruined. Aventurine says it wasn't ruined, and he's always kept it. (I wonder if that's the shirt he wore during his time enslaved?) Future Aventurine grills him and asks ‘why keep it? This new person that you are would never wear something so dirty and old. 'Aventurine' wouldn't want that old rag, it's not worth any money. 'Aventurine' would never splash around in murky water like that; he wouldn't need to.’ Nobody is hunting him, now he's the hunter. Future Aventurine makes the snide comment that he bets Aventurine wouldn't even dare to go outside in the rain, let alone do any of the things Kakavasha had to do, since he's so much more elite now. Aventurine, clearly hurt by the implication, says that even after all this time, he's never changed.
Of course, he hasn't. Deep down, no matter how much he tries to trick himself and everybody around him, he's still the same scared, traumatized boy he always has been. His future self chastises him for having an inferiority complex and mentions that with every gamble he makes, he has his left hand shaking in fear behind his back.
But the constant pull to push Kakavasha down and keep up this act that 'Aventurine' is the real him obviously perpetuated the identity disturbance in him and made it a hundred times worse, to the point where (as Future Aventurine points out) the hole he's dug is basically impossible to climb out of.
Because of this, I interpret Aventurine to constantly be struggling with his identity, not knowing who really exists under all the masks he wears, not knowing if he or anybody around him will ever figure it out. I imagine he feels very empty and unfulfilled, since as I mentioned in the abandonment section, he doesn't want to be alone. But the higher he climbs on the social ladder, the further he can separate himself from other people. This is a classic issue borderlines face. We masquerade as something we think the people around us will like, someone WE might like, but it always ends up leaving us feeling more empty than before.
(This is just an added bonus to chew on, but I got stuck on this line when I played through Penacony:)
Do you think once he became Aventurine and got the money and the resources, he researched toys that normal kids play with? Fancy ones like building blocks, stuff that he would have never been exposed to as a kid? Obviously baby Kakavasha would not know wtf building toys looked like, and I'm sure teenage Kakavasha didn't have the opportunity to browse toy catalogs. But, he recognizes the toy even though he says he's never played with them before. Maybe he considered buying it but decided against it, since it doesn't fit his new persona. Kakavasha doesn't exist anymore, so there's no reason to nurture that part of him. Anyways, just wanted to hurt y'all a bit more. Speaking of hurting ourselves:
Impulsive or Self-Damaging Behaviors + Suicidal Behavior or Self Injury:
I'm combining these two because my points kept blending together, so bear with me lol.
Aventurine is known for being incredibly reckless and putting himself in the path of danger over and over again. When discussing how he tricked Sunday with the Cornerstones, Future Aventurine asks:
I want to exaggerate how crazy it is (i can say that i'm also a bpd baddie) that he smashed his Cornerstone. I don't think a Stoneheart has ever done that before. Their stone is what makes them a Stoneheart. Ratio mentions that without it, Aventurine would be back to being nobody. Remember: that's what makes him Aventurine. You know, the persona that required him to kill off his former identity? Their Cornerstones are more important than the Stonehearts’ lives, as stated multiple times. But that's just it: Aventurine doesn't GAF about his life. He doesn't mind putting his life on the line to pull off his plan because he has that deep-rooted desire to punish himself for everything he thinks was his fault. He gets called out for gambling with his life multiple times during Penacony, and while most of the time it's reduced to him just being crazy (cough, bpd) or just having a severe gambling problem. Extremely hot take, but I think he gambles literally as another way to hurt himself. I mean, look at what he says when you ask about his hobbies:
"There's no denying it, my fascination is with the game of chance... be it the exhilarating rush of triumph or the extensive emptiness that follows, both are worth savoring, time and time again."
Being impulsive and risky, betting his life over and over – it makes him feel alive. He knows the end result will hurt, that he'll have to face that 'extensive emptiness' and the extreme guilt he feels regarding his continued good luck, but he does it anyway.
Speaking of betting, his bets are always 'all or nothing', seemingly every time. Future Aventurine calls him out on always risking everything with every gamble, asking:
"Do you truly believe the greater the risk, the greater the reward?"
Or...do you just not care what happens to you? He doesn't need to risk a lot; he's never lost. He could bet the lowest amount and still win every time, and make a lot of money depending on what everybody else bet. In fact, that would actually be a better strategy in gambling (poker/black jack specifically), because it would insinuate that he's not very confident with his hand and prompt the other players to bet higher, assuming that they'll beat him.
I imagine he gets a shred of dopamine betting everything he has knowing that he'll probably win, but hey, who knows? Then after winning and multiplying everything he has, I imagine that 'extensive emptiness' that he refers to is the feeling of 'oh good, more money. More status. More success. A reminder that no matter what I do, I'm stuck here in this role forever.'
For some reason, he also thinks that taking risks makes him appear more confident and secure. He makes a show of always keeping up the big bets and he boasts about how successful he is, while clutching his hand behind his back thinking 'oh god, is this it? will I finally lose this time?' He brings this up when he's speaking with himself and he says, 'How could a weak person take such daring risks?"
Oh, the delicious irony.
That raises the question, though: if he wants to die so badly, why hasn't he yet? It's not like he had an easy life. He fought very hard to stay alive, so why does he act so recklessly now?
I think at his core, he's scared. Dying is scary. His family is there in the afterlife; would they be disappointed in the person he’s become? At the same time, being alive is exhausting. The constant emotional pain this guy probably deals with every day? It's gotta be heavy.
His behaviors around suicide remind of a classic passively suicidal person with BPD: maybe they don't necessarily want to die, but they're tired. They don't have an active plan, but If something is going to kill them, they're not going to move out of the way.
So, carrying out his Penacony plan makes sense. Of course he’s not completely sure what will happen when Acheron kills him, but because he doesn’t have anything to live for, he’s fine gambling with his life. He makes a show of finally throwing out every last chip, too, no longer clutching them under the table in fear. He was fine with smashing the Aventurine stone because it's not like he was planning on using it after his final show; the little bit of power it had left in it was more than enough.
That being said, we do have to address this little number:
Aventurine attempted several times in Penacony, he admits it flat out. The writers even went sofar as to bold this line specifically! I think this does also go hand-in-hand with him being passively suicidal, since he's pretty sure he'll live when he attempts in the dream, but he's gonna try it SEVERAL times just to be sure. Mentally healthy people wouldn't try it... once, Aventurine!
As if we needed more evidence that Aventurine constantly puts himself in danger, you know I HAVE to mention...the light cone:
n case you haven't read the description for this light cone, let me share it with you:
"You don't believe me?"He (Aventurine) provocatively looks at the man (Ratio) before him, then draws out a revolver, empties its cylinder, and leaves a single shot in the chamber.
"Seems like I'll need to get you up to speed on how I do things if our cooperation were to remain amicable."He pushes the gun into his opponent's hand, spins the cylinder, and points the barrel to his own chest.
He pulls the trigger repeatedly, and the smile on his face remains the same after three empty clicks."Life is a grand gamble, and I'll always be the final victor."
Now what the HELL is this? Mind you, this is the first time Ratio has met this man!!! Imagine you meet your new mission partner for the first time and he puts a revolver in your hand and fires it thrice, then leaves. WHO does that? (...a baddie, perhaps!)
I don't think it's a secret to anybody who has spent a reasonable amount of time around Aventurine that there's something off about him, and that there's a really deep sadness running through him. There's some instances where other characters mention his passive desire to die – A few quick examples I can think of:
The instance in Story IV with Opal:
"Maybe luck won't be on your side this time, and the bill for all your past good fortune will come due [...] But isn't that what you've been longing for?"
Opal implies Aventurine wants to fail on Penacony, which, as we've discussed, is an accurate assumption. Jade says something similar after Aventurine's stunt: when Topaz says the light in his stone went out, Jade replies by saying "he got what he wanted."
Also, I’d like to point out that Ratio must have been anticipating that Aventurine would do something rash, since he wrote that note (doctor's advice) long before he started grilling him after the meeting with Sunday.
It's also worth noting the nod to T.S Eliot's "The Waste Land" (a very long poem about life and death). You get the achievement Sibyl, What Do You Want? after playing through the past of Kakavasha's life, and once you defeat boss Aventurine, you get the achievement She Replied, I Want to Die. I don't think that one needs an explanation, but boy does it hurt! (There's other, smaller nods to him being suicidal, like the Waiting for Godot achievement – Google the story if you're unfamiliar. Not as relevant, but I must mention it bc it makes my english major brain go brrrrr)
Also, overspending/gambling/being loose with money is a very common vice for borderlines to indulge in and harm themselves with. It's also implied that he drinks a decent amount. I counted 6 bottles of SoulGlad in his hotel room just from the angles I could see, and he's shown to be passed out at the bar when Ratio goes to get him before they go on their little date-I mean, mission. Aventurine says 'he must have drank too much', and whether or not that was true is irrelevant since it was a believable enough claim that Ratio bought it.
Borderlines are (usually) self-destructive in some capacity, and while some very annoying people assume it's for attention, it's so much more common for it to be because our inner emotions are just so out of whack. Sometimes, matching the inner pain with outer pain is a way to cope. They might also do it to try and combat-
Constant Feelings of Worthlessness or Sadness:
Probably the most nagging, prevalent feeling Aventurine deals with is the constant feeling of worthlessness. One thing about this man? He hates himself. Like, really hates himself. Take a look at the missions during his maze in Penacony. This one is one of my favorites:
It doesn't get much more on-the-nose than him calling himself a selfish, useless loser. He gets stuck on that word, in particular. Loser.
Aventurine, at his core, views himself as a massive loser. Is that ironic because of how much he wins? Not really. Money and materials are just part of the Aventurine persona. He's 'rich' in stuff, but he's not rich in what he actually wants. I think it's obvious that if he had the option to quadruple his wealth or see his sister again just one more time, we all know what he'd be picking.
The only thing he wants is connection – connection with his mother, his father, his sister, anybody at this point – but he can't have it. His family has been dead for a long while, and as I discussed before, his fear of abandonment and his luck scare him away from forming any other relationships.
This luck, this destiny to be blessed, leads him to reflect on his life a lot and wonder what the hell the point is. He treats himself like some sort of walking curse, because he's convinced that his luck is bound to hurt other people. Every time he wins, somebody else loses. The luck that keeps him safe destroys everybody else around him. As Future Aventurine puts it:
His luck is "built on the pain of someone" else. This perpetuates the constant feeling of guilt, which in turn, makes him feel worthless. Why is it him that's spared every time?
Then, right before you start his boss fight, Aventurine says,
"The architect's flawed stone, of no value at all."
Some people speculate he's talking to the MC when he says this, but I can't help but assume that he's referring to himself. Even if it was directed at the MC, so much of what Aventurine says in his bluffs and boasts are just digs at himself. He's sort of an expert at hating himself, and what do people who hate themselves do if not project? Especially when you consider the fact that aventurine is actually a really cheap, undesired stone. It's like $3 a caret and mostly only used to rip people off and pose as jade. I really don't think it's a coincidence that his character is based around a stone that is, essentially, worthless.
The way that Aventurine is also prone to giving people ridiculous amounts of money/gifts can be read as a frantic effort to keep relationships going and prevent people from leaving him (relating to my points on both his feelings of worthless and his fear of abandonment). He has a skewed view on relationships, since the only value that's ever been associated with him is monetary value and that of his 'luck', which in every context is spoken of as an asset to benefit people he cares about. His sister told him that his luck was 'the most precious wealth' of the Avgins and Jade sees him as an investment that can bring her more wealth because of his luck, but he views it as a massive burden that ends up wrecking everybody around him. So how does he prove to other people that someone as worthless as him should be allowed a seat at the table? Deep down, he thinks that he's still worth 60 red copper pieces, and he's desperate to show other people that he's worth more than that now – even though he doesn't believe it at his core. With all the money he wins now, he can throw it at people and say 'look, look how much money I'm worth now, you want me around because I can buy you anything you want, that's a useful quality in a friend!'
(I did use the 'seat at the table line' as a nod to what his slave master said to him when they were discussing his worth: "Don't forget your place, slave. You're not qualified to be at the table." Which is, painfully, what Aventurine says when you open up chests! He scoffs and says that "it's hardly enough for a seat at the table." :’) )
There is also, of course, Aventurine's overarching struggle with finding purpose in his life. We see a lot of his existentialism during his trauma maze, but at the end of his trauma maze, Future Aventurine finally stops ripping Aventurine a new one and is vulnerable for a second, saying he doesn't understand what he's ever done wrong to have suffered as much as he has.
Then, when he's in the Nihility and he's speaking to Acheron, making the decision on whether or not he even wants to keep going, he asks her:
As I said, he has this conversation with himself in the maze as well, but here he's actually being vulnerable and speaking to somebody else about it: what's the point in being alive if we're just born to suffer? If nothing else, this solidifies the emotional struggle that Aventurine is constantly having. I also think it furthers the idea that he has this nagging sort of emptiness inside of him which is another BPD trait: the feeling that you're empty at your core, and you're constantly trying to fill it with things (friends, money, substances, whatever) but nothing ever works. You worry if anything will ever make you feel 'whole' again, and pair with the the identity disturbance? You're left with a constant feeling of despair.
Other Points:
These are a few other random thoughts I have, inspired by in-game moments but I'm taking them for my own evil fiendish BPD narrative. Take them with a grain of salt.
I think the stigma he gets around 'being crazy' is really BPD-coded. Separate from the ridiculous discrimination he gets for being an Avgin where people assume he's a liar and wolf in sheep's clothing (which can this man catch a SINGLE break jfc), he also has this reputation of being crazy, insane, manipulative, cunning, and someone you want to avoid, which is more rooted in his reckless gambling habit and status with the IPC. Living with this reputation of being insane and unstable for...lowkey no reason at all? Very BPD coded. I think Aventurine leans into that stigma to keep people a certain distance away, but it also just ends up making him hate himself even more.
Also, his entire mantra is "all or nothing", which always rang my BPD bells as well. There's not a lot of gray area with him, which is a key trait in borderlines as we often display very black-and-white thought patterns.
In Conclusion:
I think Aventurine is a borderline princess <3
No but actually though, Aventurine is extremely smart, witty, funny, generous, and very kind-hearted, and he also happens to have a lot of BPD symptoms :^) I don't think it does any harm to view him as BPD-coded; in fact, I think it's great to associate positive, fan-favorite characters like this with BPD because it helps to humanize us. Borderlines are not violent, crazy maniacs, they're people who have been severely traumatized and developed some unhealthy habits because of it. They deserve love, respect, understanding, and communication, just as everybody else does.
If you actually made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope I was able to shed some light on Aventurine and his Symptoms. And, as I do in all of my BPD posts, here’s your reminder to kiss the borderline baddies in your life and tell them they’re important to you :^) Living with BPD is exhausting and I know I speak for all of us when I say that. We try so hard every day to stay positive and regulated, and though rewarding, it's exhausting and very hard work. Nothing makes us smile more than some recognition that we're trying our best !!
Till next time xoxo (and shout out to @roxirinart for helping me edit this monstrosity mwahhh mwah)
#honkai star rail#hsr aventurine#aventurine#hsr#bpd#borderline personality disorder#analysis#character analysis
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Realize where you belong.
Chapter 9
Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader
CW: wholesome fluff, a good amount of angst, lo'ak being nosy lol jk he's genuinely trying to look after neteyam, descriptions of masturbation, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of depressive symptoms, reader meeting neteyam in her avatar body, neteyam and reader vent to each other about their struggles, sensitive themes, hurt/comfort, cuddling, sexual tension, kissing, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, neteyam slightly begging to mate with reader, foreplay (i don't know if it counts but it definitely is teasing in a sexual way). Tell me if I missed something ♡
Hello, my cute little readers! I got a little better in terms of my fibro flare up and have been feeling a little better emotionally/mentally these days, so, I was able to write again. There's a slight chance that some paragraphs are a bit confusing. I didn't fully proofread it. I'm sorry, my babies, I'm really tired right now, really achy, still. And I'm extremely hungry and there's some delicious homemade orange cake in front of me waiting to be eaten 😍 I've already eaten two pieces of it and drank a full cup of coffee with milk but I NEED to eat more bc I'm still starving and I love cake and coffee 🤤 idk about other countries but it's a tradition that we have here in Brazil to eat cake and drink coffee, together 🤍 anyways I gotta shut up now lol Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'd love to read your lovely comments down below 👉🏻👈🏻 I love y'all SO MUUUCH 😘
Slightly proofread.
Chapter 8
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
No way out of your quicksand
But I can breathe underneath
Take your love, cover me
Pull me down, pull me down
You are wonderful
You've taken all of my heart
It was so worth the fall
Don't let go
Quicksand (Bridgit Mendler)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Today you felt anxious but excited. It was your first day off in a week. You were gonna Dreamwalk in your Avatar today. But you were not gonna be on a solo mission this time. Neteyam would be by your side. You two had planned to meet each other next to the river you always loved to play in. You had always loved running water.
Having Neteyam around felt like a breath of fresh air to you since you never truly felt at home amidst other human beings and, after so many years, it started to feel like a joke to you to insist on trying to fit into a society that seemed to not even want you there, in the first place. Most people behaved towards you like you were weird in some way. Neteyam never made you feel that way. You did not know if it was in view of the fact that he was na'vi or if it was just because he was in love with you.
You had always preferred to live among plants, insects, songs, books, animals… on your own little world, since you were a little girl. Everybody used to call you a daydreamer, saying you had your head on the clouds. When you were a child, you did not let that get under your skin. That's the beauty of childhood wonder, it has a lot of wisdom in it that we seem to forget, once we start growing up. Your little self never cared about those "demonstrations of care and concern" (that were nothing but condescending criticism and you never understood why people tried to conceal that fact if it was so obvious) because you knew you were not crazy or completely oblivious to reality like they used to say. Your fun and whimsical inner world was what felt like home to you, not the everyday mundane routine, the protocols that seemed ridiculously stupid to you, the shallow conversations and gossip… the over-all human society. It fucking sucked, if you were going to be totally honest.
It's not that you hated your own kind. No. It's just that you hated the way they built their empires, throughout history, the tainted legacy the ancestors left for the ones to come in the future - like a dying Planet, for example -, because of their own stupidity and recklessness.
You knew you were not harming anyone - yourself included - despite always engaging in daydreaming, all alone, with your earbuds on or just staring at a beautiful landscape and your grip on reality was still in check. Your grip on reality was actually so tight, your fingers would get hurt and start to bleed sometimes, because reality is a double bladed sword. It keeps you safe and stable, it is needed for you to not go bonkers, but it also cuts you deep with its sharp edges.
༊⁀➷
Neteyam prepared to go out today to meet you during the day for the first time after the both of you became mates. It was just like Eywa had blessed him as he was able to finish all his duties to the clan and his training a little earlier than the usual today. Or maybe the Great Mother had nothing to do with it and it was all Neteyam making the greatest effort ever just to be able to spend some time with you in the daylight and finally see you in your na'vi body again. He missed seeing you like that. He missed the way your tail would wag softly showing you were feeling happy, he missed looking at your stripes and thinking they were the most beautiful stripes he had ever seen and most of all, he missed admiring the way you loved his planet, the way you respected and appreciated Eywa instead of hurting her.
When Neteyam was taking his bow and arrows and putting them on his back, ready to go into the woods to meet you, Lo'ak approached him, suspicious.
"Where are you going, bro?"
"To the forest. Maybe I can hunt for some food and if I'm lucky I'll bring us some good meat for dinner." Neteyam smiled and gave his younger brother a head pat, rapidly walking out of the Sully's hut door
Lo'ak wanted to yell something to his older brother, something like "I know there's something you're not telling me" but he did not. If Neteyam was hiding something, it would probably not be something that would harm him - Neteyam. Everybody knew how responsible - to the point of being annoying, sometimes - Neteyam was. Lo'ak used to get Neteyam into trouble all the time back when they were just teenagers and he was trying not to do that as much as he used to, even though he was not exactly doing a great job - he was doing a terrible job, actually - but he was still trying. He would still keep an eye on his older brother - "It seems like the tables have turned, huh?" Lo'ak thought - but he would leave him alone to do whatever he was going to do in the forest. He knew Neteyam did not have much free time for himself and he sometimes felt sorry for him, seeing him so tired and even stressed out really often because of his Olo'eyktan to be training and his responsibilities as the older brother. Lo'ak used to hold some grudges on his older brother when he was younger but now he understood that Neteyam actually struggled a lot too.
Neteyam pretended to not notice anything when he was leaving home but he did not fail to see the mistrust on Lo'ak's face. That was something he would have to deal with sooner than he wanted to, he acknowledged. He also thought about how his mother would react when she eventually finds out that her son, the future Olo'eyktan of their tribe, was in a relationship with a human girl. Neteyam did not want to disappoint his mother. He knew how proud she was of him and it hurt to think that she could start to think badly of him. He tried his hardest to whoosh those thoughts away.
༊⁀➷
The Pandoran sun shone bright up in the sky, its rays reflecting on your bioluminescent freckles, making them a little more evident on your skin. The soothing sound of the leaves dancing with the pleasant wind and the water running in the nearby river filled the atmosphere around you. You walked slowly towards Neteyam, adrenaline dancing around in your belly in a bittersweet motion.
When Neteyam looked at you, it was like lightning had struck him. Not a destructive kind of lightning but a good one, sweet in its intensity, falling strongly all over him. Neteyam was seeing you in your Avatar for the first time after you had become his mate.
Your mouth was somewhat open, revealing your upper teeth and your na'vi (Avatar?) fangs. Your gaze revealed how much you had anticipated that moment, how much you stayed up when you should be sleeping, thinking about finally being able to see the look in Neteyam's face when he saw you in your Avatar. You knew he had watched you while you were Dreamwalking too many times before but you never got to see the admiration in his eyes when he did so as he had been stalking you, not letting you know he was around. You had wished to see his beautiful golden eyes captivated by you for so long. You wanted to feel pretty and desired like that. And now you were finally experiencing it as Neteyam looked almost dumb with enchantment while he stared at you. But cute dumb, you know? So damn cute…
You stared back at him as you took the last steps towards the place where he stood, as if he was frozen.
Neteyam felt like he was not able to move as he took in how beautiful you looked. He had never seen your na'vi body so close to his own body and it felt overwhelmingly good to do so. His sweet yawne finally belonged to him and he could now touch you and hold you in the physical form he found you most beautiful in. It's not like he did not think you were madly beautiful and hot in your human body, he always wanted to pin you down and make love to you while he was close to your human form, but nothing compared to seeing you in your na'vi form, the form where you smiled the most, where you seemed so much more alive and full of lust for experiencing the world around you. That made you even prettier. Happiness looked pretty on you.
Neteyam was na'vi and his people did not have as many severe mental struggles like humans did but there were rare cases where some na'vi who went through terrible trauma in their lives did become uninterested in fighting their dark thoughts and they did become extremely depressed, though they could be cured from that illness through rituals that healed the spirit, performed by their clan's Tsahìk.
Neteyam was not blind or oblivious to things that were obvious to the naked eye. He knew that nobody would break down and cry as often as you did, only minutes after waking up in the morning, while getting ready for work etc if this person was not in an enormous amount of pain, the kind of pain that made them wish to disappear and never be found again. Thinking about his mate feeling that kind of sorrow made him feel like his heart was being torn into pieces, blood spilling from it like water spills from a fountain.
The reason why Neteyam was so determined to convince you to transfer your consciousness to your na'vi body forever was not some selfish wish, it was not just because he wanted to take you to his tribe and have you be his mate, be able to bond with you through tsaheylu every night and get to love your body, sharing his affection and sexual pleasure with you as well as feeling your own through the bond - even though that thought did wake up a raw, intense desire and need inside of him and he just could not stop himself from fantasizing about that while stroking his cock when he could be all by himself without any chance of disturbance. Neteyam also wanted to give you the opportunity to live a blissful and fulfilling life, a life where you would laugh way more often than cry. If he knew someone that deserved nothing less than that, that person was you.
If in the worst case scenario, you still felt so bad after you had your consciousness transferred to your na'vi body, Neteyam planned to ask his mother to perform a ritual that heals the spirit on you. Thinking about that, he suddenly felt anxious and he felt his heart tightening inside his chest. Neteyam had been trying not to worry about the fact that it would be extremely hard to convince his mother to accept you as his mate and perform the ritual of transference of consciousness on you but that thought had been eating him alive constantly, ever since he talked to you for the first time, outside of the laboratory’s kitchen window.
"Hi, muntxatan." (male mate) Neteyam's heart started beating quickly and it almost came out of his throat when he heard you calling him your mate in his people's language as you stopped in front of him and smiled widely, your eyes narrowing slightly. Those torturing thoughts about his mother trying to tear the both of you apart quickly were washed away from his mind by your presence. It was hypnotizing to him.
"Yawntu… You're just so beautiful. So insanely beautiful." Neteyam smiled, his eyes shining, still bewitched by you, and pushed you roughly against his body. He hugged you tighter than he ever did before since he knew he wouldn't hurt you by doing so when you're Dreamwalking. The size difference between the both of you was not that substantial anymore. His chin rested on the top of your head as he held you strongly against his body.
His roughness did not hurt you, on the contrary, it made you feel safe and protected to have his big - currently not huge, just big - arms around you, keeping your body close as your head was against his chest, your eyes shut and you could hear his heart beating fast. It made you indescribably happy to know that you were the reason for that quick heartbeat. You curled your lips up, smiling peacefully.
Peace. You spent so much time without feeling that but, after you accepted becoming Neteyam's mate, finally defeating your cruel fears, you started to feel peaceful way more often than you had ever felt in your life, even more often than you did when you were little.
Neteyam distanced your bodies a bit, still putting his hands on the sides of your arms, right below your shoulders and announced:
"Come! There's a place I wanna take you to." He took your hand and started walking in front of you, excitedly leading you somewhere
"Where are you taking me?" You smiled and chuckled softly, curious
"You'll see." It was all he said
Neteyam made you feel excited about little things, like you were just a child again, a feeling you hadn't felt in so, so long. After Neteyam came to your life, it was like he painted vivid colors on your once all too white and dull canvas. You almost shivered at the reminder that you nearly ruined your chance to have a love so pure and true such as this one because of fear of the unknown and refusal of getting out of your comfort zone.
After walking through the rainforest with you for a little while, Neteyam stopped in front of a tall, large tree and you soon recognized it. Its branches had clusters that were full of some beautiful fruits that reminded you of blueberries that used to exist on Earth, before they went extinct.
"Here. Do you recognize this tree? I've seen you look at it so many times. Were you wondering if the yovo fruits are safe to eat?"
"Yeah." You smiled bashfully "They look delicious."
"And they are. They're safe to eat, yawne. We can eat some now, if you want to." Neteyam smiled kindly at you. The fact that he remembered small details about you made your heart melt.
"I'd love that, Teyam."
Neteyam smiled, unbelieving.
"What did you call me?"
"Teyam…?" You furrowed your eyebrows "It's just a nickname I came up with for you… Do you hate it?" You contorted your features in a way that showed him you were feeling slightly insecure and embarrassed
"No! I love it, yawntutsyìp! I love it." He smiled and chuckled "I just wasn't expecting it. I love that my muntxate is calling me by a special nickname. Feels intimate." Neteyam came closer to you and held your face with both his beautiful strong blue hands
You looked up at his face with doe eyes and waited as you knew what was coming. You could feel it. The sneaky butterflies started flying inside your belly again.
Neteyam kissed you slowly, crushing his soft wet lips against yours. He pressed his lips on your mouth again and again for a short amount of time but it was enough to make your legs feel weak.
"Come, oeyä muntxate. I'll help you climb the tree."
Neteyam did as he said and soon enough you both were sitting on the wooden "floor" of the tree, sharing yovo fruits and eating them.
You two started to chill and talk about everyday life. It felt so good. It felt familiar, just like any relationship you had had before with a human guy, but better. So much better. Your alien boyfriend - mate? It felt so weird to say it like that… - made you feel things that none of your ex human boyfriends could ever dream to do. Neteyam made you feel understood. He did not judge you. He made you feel at home. Neteyam was becoming home for you.
You started to tell him how sad and done with everything you sometimes felt. Well, not sometimes… It happened all the time, even though it got better now that Neteyam was in your life. But you did not want to make him worry about you.
"You know, sometimes I feel like that too."
"What do you mean?" You questioned
"Like there's so much chaos inside that I just wanna talk to someone and vent. But I'm always so busy. There never seems to be time to find someone to do that with."
You were slightly surprised.
"Yeah, me too. Always too busy." You sighed "And exhausted, to be honest. Both physically and mentally."
"Well, I do have way more stamina than humans do" You laughed at Neteyam's teasing "But some nights I come home from training and after taking care of my siblings, really, really tired too. And I don't mean only physically."
"We have some stuff in common, don't we?" You pointed out, smiling
"We certainly do." He smiled back
You felt good knowing that.
Neteyam laid on the floor, right by your side.
"I'm full" He let out a laugh that sounded lovely in your ears while stroking his stomach.
"Me too." You laid on the floor too, just like Neteyam had just done. Your belly felt pleasantly filled up "But these fruits are so good I'd still eat a dozen of them." You playfully said, laughing
"Do you want more? I can get you some more." Neteyam gently offered
"No, it's okay, Teyam. I'm good for now." You smiled at him
Neteyam smiled back, showing no teeth, a soft, enamored look in his feline amber eyes.
You two spent some time together in comfortable silence.
"Oeyä muntxate?"
"Yeah?" You looked at him and let out a relaxed sigh, smiling softly
"Oel ngati kameie." He said, with vulnerable sincerity in his eyes
It seemed like he was gazing inside your very soul. Like his golden eyes could see something in you nobody else could. Like he saw who you truly were. Like Neteyam saw the good and bad and the ugly and the greatness and the doubts and the fears and the uniqueness and the ordinary parts of you, like he saw all of you, and it did not scare him off to see your dark side. You could feel he was staying for both your virtues and your vices. And maybe that's what "Oel ngati kameie" meant, when said to the one you're choosing to be your mate. Means connecting to someone in a raw, deep way, a way that nobody else is able to. A way that allows you to see the other person's flaws but not be afraid of them and try to find a way out. A way that allows you to see the grace in every little detail that that other soul has, to see the beauty in them that they themselves could never see.
"Oel ngati kameie…" You finally said, smiling, still not believing he had said those words to you
Neteyam smiled brightly while gazing into your eyes. He always looked deep inside your eyes… It felt almost too much but it still had just the right amount of intensity for it to be deliciously alluring instead of overwhelming.
Neteyam took your hand and intertwined your fingers on his. You felt the touch of his warm hand burning your skin in a pleasant way. After a few seconds, he kissed the back of your hand tenderly. You kept staring at both your hands glued together for a while.
"I wanna cuddle with you, oeyä muntxate." His voice brought your attention back to his face.
You could hear nervousness and need in his tone.
"Sure, yawne."
You were starting to really like calling Neteyam by na'vi pet names. The na'vi language was incredibly pleasing to the ears, in your opinion.
Neteyam started moving your body carefully, so you could lay on your side and when you obeyed, laying in said position, he himself laid on his side and pulled you in, making your body be as close to his as he could, your ass against his clothed member.
Your lungs started to do a poor job at helping you breathe now that the both of you were so close. You got nervous as you two had, yes, cuddled before, when you were in your human body, but he was never behind you like that, his body glued to yours. You knew he could feel your ass on his cock. Your heart was beating at the speed of light.
It did not take long for you to start to feel Neteyam was now fully erect, his cock pressed against your ass. You felt the inner walls of your pussy start to twitch and you got all wet, your juices spreading over your panties. Neteyam was so big and thick and your body responded like crazy to him.
It was a violent, invincible desire that made Neteyam cling so much to you, all the time. It would burn his insides, making him yearn for you, for your touch, for your warmth. There was no rational explanation inside his head for it. Neteyam could not understand it, he could only feel it covering all his being, exuding from his eyes whenever he looked at you, touched you, kissed you… He knew you could tell how much he was thirsty for you almost all the time. But Neteyam did not care about being so vulnerable. He wanted you to know what you did to him. Maybe like that you would surrender sooner and give yourself to him completely already. He felt so impatient. Everyday it was getting harder and harder for him to not take you in his arms and mate with you. This wait was killing him, day by day. It was like a slow and agonizing death. And now that he could smell your sweet juices so vividly, he felt like he could no longer hold back.
Neteyam pushed you even closer to him. You whimpered softly, the feeling of his huge, girthy cock pressed against your butt was divine.
Neteyam got you crazily wet just so quickly that it never failed to surprise you. He was like quicksand to you; you could try and run as much as you wanted but you would always end up being swallowed by his love.
"I need you so much, muntxate…" He cried out softly in your ear while rubbing his hard cock on your ass. "You're all wet for me. You smell so good, it's intoxicating." He sniffed the air, savoring your natural scent just like it was the most mouthwatering thing he had ever felt filling his sensitive nostrils "Please, lemme make you mine completely, my sweet yawne. Please…"
༊⁀➷
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#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x you#neteyam x human#neteyam x avatar!reader#neteyam x omatikaya!reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x female reader#neteyam smut#neteyam x female human reader#neteyam x na'vi!reader#neteyam x human reader#neteyam sully angst#neteyam sully x na’vi!reader#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam sully x you#neteyam sully x y/n#neteyam sully smut#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader smut#na'vi x reader#na'vi x y/n#avatar fanfiction#avatar smut#✎ victória writes ▢࿐✧
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Hi! I wanted to ask a question and I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or not so just ignore this is you’d rather not answer, but I was wondering if you went to art school or got a degree in it? I really want to start learning and maybe one day start a career in animation and wasn’t sure whether I should spend time and resources getting a degree. I know it’s going to be different for everybody and nothings a guarantee for this field but since I love your style and technical skill I was curious whether you had done that and what were your thoughts on it or if you are self-taught.
Hey anon! No worries it's all good!
Ig I should quickly go through my art journey so you can have an overall look of why I went to art school lol.
So I'm from Vietnam. I think back in 2013 I went to a small art school in Singapore (they were the only one that gave me a scholarship). My major was 3D modeling actually, but during my final year, I realized I only wanted to draw characters for animation. I could already draw decently, so I just read The Silver Way book and built a character design portfolio on my own during this time. I was lucky I got a job as a concept artist at a small animation studio there so I learned a lot from the job. I also did a lot of self-learning and took Woulter Tulp's Expressive Character class on Schoolism.
Then after 3-ish years of working, I got sick of the tiny and dying animation industry in Singapore. I wanna do sth more than just preschool shows and I was severely underpaid lmao. So I quit my job and took the MA VisDev program at AAU. It's a little more affordable cuz u can do 1 year online and the second year on-site. The reason I went to this school even tho i could just take a VisDev class online was cuz i need the visa so i can try to break into the industry in the US.
Now back to your question. Is art school a must? No. Should you still take it? Maybe, depends on your situation. If you can afford it then hell yeah by all means. Art school is great cuz you have professors and peers to help guide you along the way so you won't get lost while trying to figure out your shit. And to have a few years just experimenting and focusing on art is a great experience. Plus you can make a lot of meaningful connections in school and it will help you a long way after you grad. But if you have to go into debt to go to art school, then don't. There are places like Schoolism, CGMA, and Warrior Art Camp where you can pick what class and from whom you wanna learn. If you are not from the US and wanna break into the industry here like me however, then yeah getting a degree is a better bet cuz you can use the student visa and OPT to hopefully get a job here (it's still very very hard tho ngl im struggling rn as we speak lmao). Also, you need a BA to work overseas so there's that too. The hard truth is studios prefer to hire locally than some rando from somewhere else and have to wait for them to relocate and shit, (unless you are exceptionally good and they'd do anything to have you, but that is super rare lol).
Even though I did go to art school, I have to say most of my skills are from self-study. It requires a lot of self-discipline but I'm pretty much obsessed with drawing and I draw everyday so it's not a problem for me. But my friend is not good at that, so she found art school/classes helped her better cuz there are deadlines and instructors to help guide her to reach her goal. So it depends on your learning style tbh.
There is this chart that can help you consider your options. Im sorry it's a very long answer, cuz yes everyone's experience is different. Feel free to drop me another ask if you still have anymore questions tho ^^
Edit: I must also add, though there are online classes and ways to self-learn animation,I do think it only truly benefit you if you know exactly what you wanna do in this industry (for example I already knew i wanna become a character designer for 2d/3D animation specifically so any books/classes i took I tailored it to fit my goal). If you are unsure what you wanna do, then maybe even a cheap animation course will do better, and then you can take extra online classes on the side.
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ok so. a few years ago i moved and found myself living very VERY close to a pretty famous 90s rock musician that i have been a huge fan of since i was a teenager. i was super shocked as i didnt know he even lived in the same city as me (i live in berlin). so then covid hit and since then i saw him pretty regularly on my way to work. i now see him at least once a week, biking down my street. i know he recognizes me too, he has now started to smile at me on the street and look back when he passes me by . i think he is probably pretty lonely, nobody here knows who he is, hes always alone i have never seen him with anybody all these years. im going a bit crazy i feel like a stalker but i cant do anything about it!!! idk if i have a chance at a rockstar affair lol. hes also 30 years older than me. bonus info for everybody reading this far; michael cera seemingly also lives in berlin now, i see him and his wife pretty often at my coffee shop. seems nice. dyed his hair blonde though and is looking a bit stupid. xx
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Weekly fic rec, by yours truly...
The wind stills ruffles our hair, still shakes the leaves of the trees. The world keeps on spinning. People still walk on the streets, still keep on their routines. We share old stories, old photographs, old memories. We offer each other a hug, even if it can only do as much as wave the cold away. Sometimes, that warmth is what we need to sooth the aching lump in our throats. Sometimes, it just makes it hurt more, but we need it all the same.
I was living my life like normal, until I saw this post. I wasn't prepared to have the ground shattering beneath my feet.
The Ordinary World, by Anti_kate
Rated E, ~24,8k words
My tags: intense, cathartic, beautiful
Summary:
He couldn’t quite remember what Aziraphale smelled like anymore, the particular combination of fresh bread and sea salt and cedarwood, the caramelized sugar of crème brûlée. But even though he couldn’t remember the scent precisely, he knew the bookshop didn’t smell right. It didn’t smell like Aziraphale. It was as if he’d never been there at all. Aziraphale disappears the night of the bookshop fire, and Crowley is left alone and grieving. But death is not always the end.
Hm. This fic spoke to me in such a level. Cut me deep and dissected my feelings in such a way that I didn't expect -- so I'm sorry in advance. This will get a bit personal, and I don't know to which extent everyone can relate to this story, and to which extent is me projecting my own experiences.
So, this can be a particular experience of mine, but I don't see many stories dealing with grief. In the movies, TV shows, books, etc. that I've watched and read, it's an uncommon theme. I find that interesting because even if it is different for everybody (and if every time it hits differently), everyone experiences grief. In the same way that everyone dies, everyone also feels the pain of grief.
We see characters dying and characters suffering for it, but the grief per se is uncommon. And I think that's because it happens a lot in one's head, it's not a linear process, it's complex and painful, and it's never the same. It doesn't even end. We never really stop mourning. We go through our days, and the grief is with us. We work, and it sits by our side. We laugh, and it warps its arms around our shoulders. We cry, and it constrict our voices. We eat, and half of it goes to its belly. We walk, and its weight slows us down. We learn to live with it, we grow around it, but that hollowness is always there, never fulfilled again.
And this story taps into that so well (for me, at least). It describes so well the sense of loss, the sense of emptiness, the absence that lingers. How everything hurts, how it feels for the world to end, and nothing changing. For it to end and people still being the same, doing the same things. For it to end, and for you to confront the fact that it means nothing, really; you still, somehow, have to keep going, you, somehow, are still alive. The world ended, nothing changed, and you still have to breathe.
All that is left is your memories, and they aren't even the same anymore. You can't exactly remember them, but your body does. You get assaulted by them. You get haunted by the ghosts of the people you lost -- you can hear their voices on the back of your mind, you can feel them on their words, on the things they owned, on the things they did. You listen to a song and BAM! there is their ghost singing those lyrics, hoping to that rhythm, a memory that you didn't know you still had. Their ghosts haunt you. But they're gone. They don't exist anymore, only being alive in the past; only still in the memories, in memories that, more often than not, will die with you and cease to exist when all that's left of you is the memories on other people's heads.
We see Crowley go through that. We see him hurting like we (maybe *I*, lol) hurt. We see his suffering upon losing Aziraphale, and how he hurts himself trying to stop hurting, and unfortunately, the hurt is inescapable. He sacrifices a lot to get answers, to try to get close to Aziraphale again -- and what wouldn't I sacrifice only to be able to hug the people I lost ome more time...
But the good news is that he can get Aziraphale back. And he does. The plot is amazing. The descriptions of how he does that and the twists are amazing. This fic is so poetic, and the ending is so beautiful. Reading Crowley getting Aziraphale back was incredible, especially after seeing (experiencing, really) the hurt.
I love how the author wrote this story, their prose is beautiful. Haunting. I loved every bit, and I felt so seen, hugged by Crowley's hurt; he getting back something that I will never be able to was great. It comforted me a lot, even if it hurt (and it did hurt a lot lol I still have a lump on my throat and did cry yesterday because of it, but it was a good type of cry. One that makes you feel good after).
This fic made me feel a lot, and I'm so grateful for it (@antikate I'm sorry for tagging you I just want you to know that I loved your fic so much, and I for sure wasn't able to get that across by my comments there. Rhank you so much for this story) It's so beautiful and... aaa alright time to end this rec. I babbled a lot and said almost nothing, I feel like. Just go read it (not for everyone, I know, but yet...).
This fic is like drinking a too-sweet beverage to try to swallow a too-bitter med. Like making popcorn when you feel sad, because that's what they did when they felt sad.Like keep on living and laughing, because they would like you to.
#✨️Random fic rec✨️#this took me some time#i redid this rec a few times#I'm not satisfied wirh it still#and i almost scrapped it entirely because it got away too personal#but fuck it lol
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ok genuine question to my mutuals & everyone else: do you care if people ship/write/draw "problematic" ships?? like pedophilia, incest, etc. bc i fucking don’t and i keep having these arguments with people on tiktok who throw around the word "proshipper🫵🏻" without actually knowing what it means, and it annoys me so fucking much.
i literally couldn’t care less if you write a starker, snarry, wincest or whatever fic. do i like it?? no. would i read it?? FUCK no. do i think you’re a horrible person who deserves to be shit on by hundreds of people??? also no bc SURPRISE i don‘t judge a person’s entire character and morals by the fact that they write a story about two FICTIONAL CHARACTERS JFC. i also have this really cool ability called ✨blocking people/tags✨ crazy right? like, the existence of illegal ships doesn’t affect my life in any way, it literally hurts my brain when i try to understand why people care so much.
a few days ago someone on tiktok told me that these ships DO affect people‘s lives, bc some people had bad experiences with these topics (age gap relationships etc etc) and like yeah, i fully understand why you wouldn’t wanna engage with this kind of content if you made these kind of experiences but like?? if we‘re going there almost everything would have to be seen as problematic as well. all the violence in fics, the fact that everyone‘s shipping literal criminals, rape/non-con in fics, suicide mentions in fics, EDs in fics, literally any kind of mental health problems in fics for that matter. EVERYTHING will be triggering for some people, but that’s why we should TAG triggering stuff. this is what we have tags for, so that you can filter it out. it’s not that hard.
it just annoys me how everyone on tiktok is like "fandom culture is DYING, everybody just complains about ships these days" and in the next sentence they will say something along the lines of "but you CANT ship illegal ships" like babe. you‘re part of the problem i fear.
this turned into me rambling way too much way too fast i’m sorry. long story short is: if u think it’s okay to harass people over FICTIONAL fiction when you can just.. ignore & block them, pls unfollow me lol.
i‘m also just now realizing that i worded this like a tiktok comment to someone who has no clue about fandom culture, when this is literally tumblr where i could’ve just said "fuck off if you’re an anti" and 90% would’ve understood lol
i should delete tiktok
#is it so hard to just be nice to each other and don’t interact with someone when you don’t enjoy their content or opinions???#fandom#fandom discourse#shipping#shipping discourse#proship#proshippers please interact#proshippers are valid#tiktok#tiktok discourse#ao3#problematic ships#amy talks#anti anti
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somebody, anybody and EVERYBODY come talk to me about Batman okay i'm dying here
my friends have borne the brunt of my latest hyperfixation and as much as i wanna keep yammering on about the Batfam and SuperBat and yadda yadda i DO actually care about their mental well-being, which means there's an upper limit to how many times i can talk about it in a day
tumblr folks, y'all my only hope
tell me your favorite things about the Bats! who's your favorite of the Batfam? who's the most stylish? who has the best jokes? who's the most likely to become a supervillain, if pressed? what Batman video games do y'all like? which comic runs are your favorites? movies??
any good fanfics you'd recommend? it's likely i've already read it at this point but i have yet to run out of shit to read now that i've started looking at other people's bookmarks on ao3 lol
or, what would YOU do if you were adopted into the family??? (first thing i'd do is ask Dick to hug me, then hugs from the other kids while i work up to getting a hug from Bruce. i'd be a shit vigilante but i'm at least a hoot to be around, so i'd hang out in the cave and be a general nuisance. i'd also pressure Bruce into setting up a fucking garden terrarium to counter the
literally anything, any headcanons or opinions or fucking whatever, just talk to me (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
#batman#batfam#tink rambles#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#duke thomas#carrie kelley#alfred pennyworth#i'm just tagging the whole family just to be safe#kate kane
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[STORY TIME] 🤢🍹 DRUNK ELVIS (1968)
youtube
Story told by Charlie Hodge.
Next to him are Joe Esposito and Larry Geller. All men, Memphis Mafia. You can hear the story on the video above, if you prefer, or you can scroll down and read it (Charlie is the way to go, press the play button). But before the story, just wanted to say: Charlie was so funny! The "huey" joke! LOL! I adore him. ♥ Rest in peace, sweet Charlie, also Joe. God bless your souls.
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[STORY TIME] 🍹
Well, as we know, Elvis was not a drinker. Hardly he'd get interested a few drinks, but that's the thing: when a person like that drinks and gets carried away, he goes all the way, not knowing his own safe limits; in reality it doesn't take that much alcohol to make 'em tipsy. As any person who didn't drink often, Elvis' tolerance for alcohol was very low - taking from the stories told over the years. Sometimes disasters happen when one not used to drink have too much drinking, other times just funny things take place. Charlie is talking about one of those moments for Elvis, a funny one.
According to Hodge, he and the guys (Memphis Mafia) were with Elvis in Palm Springs, on set while he was filming a movie during the 60's. Charlie recalls it as being 'Live A Little, Love a Little' — for which filming began on March 13th, with principal photography ending in May 1st, 1968, so that story happened in early 1968.
Elvis and Michele Carey on scene from 'Live A Little, Love A Little" (1968)
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Charlie says Elvis was filming one of the scenes he's in the sea, when he complained the water was too cold. He then asked his guys if they happen to have anything to drink, so could use the liquor to help keeping his body warm while he was filming that sea scene. They didn't have any, so they sent Charlie to buy some. Charlie bought a peach brandy and rum, so he came back with it and Elvis drank it... but it turns out he liked the peach liquor, a little too much.
Normally people who don't drink they go ease with sweet tasting liquor and they don't stop drinking, simply because don't feel getting drunk... until they are hammered. This happened to poor Elvis a few times.
When he finished the one peach brandy drink he had, on their way home after shooting day was over, Charlie mentions how Elvis was already slurred speech/swaying drunk but he said he liked the drink and wanted to go buy some more. The guys stopped by a liquor store. There, silly Elvis enters the store and absentminded goes walking around, calmly checking the options as if nothing was happening around, while "poor Joe", as Charlie says, was desperate to get him back in the car, in fear some mob took place if people found out Elvis was there.
Well, they got home safely after all, and El had all the drinks he wanted until everybody heads to their own bedrooms. Charlie says Elvis was wearing his blue nylon jammies and, he jokes about it, saying all the guys too were wearing blue nylon jammies that night, actually; in his words, "because we figured, if Elvis looks good in blue nylon jammies, we do too!" 😆
Scene from 'Live a Little, Love a Little' (1968)
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Shortly after, Joe Esposito hears a knock on his bedroom door. He opens the door and sees Elvis standing two-hands leaned against Joe's bedroom door frames, ill looking (clearly sick from the drinking).
El looked at Joe and said,
"Joe, I'm dying."
Esposito tried to calm him down, telling him he was alright and he should go back to his bedroom and just lay down and sleep, but Elvis ignored.
"Call daddy" (Vernon)", he said to Joe.
"Tell him to sell Graceland. He doesn't need that big old place... and sell all the cars, he don't need them too."
Joe continued trying to calm Elvis down, ignoring the nonsense the man was saying, but El (as any good wasted person who thinks he's in perfect clear estate of mind), insisted,
"I'm not kidding, I'm dying!"
Finally Joe got to send Elvis went back to his own bedroom, but soon EP was back repeating the same things. "I'm dying." According to Charlie, this went on for about three times. On the third time, as soon as Elvis said, "I'm dying" again, he threw up right in front of Joe. 🤢
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Can you picture drunk Elvis? (LOL) Those little anecdotes of Elvis Presley's life are just so fun to hear about! That bring him closer to us, making that god-like looking man feel like any friend of ours, or even ourselves. I love hearing those "hammered Elvis" stories, don't you?
Elvis in scene from "Wild In The Country" (1961)
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What kind of drunk person you think our sweet El was?
I think he would get extra affectionate, mellow and even needy, which makes me crave to be right there with him. ♥
#elvis#hammered elvis#elvis drunk stories#elvis presley#memphis mafia#charlie hodge#joe esposito#larry geller#60s elvis
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"Death is tragic, but sometimes living can be so much worse."
So..... same anon that send the rant ask that this come from and I just have to say how good this is. Like unbelievably so and everything from your response as well, I cant say this enough I love your writing and how you interpret trolls and their world
Honestly, you're so right that they likely had that "hes in a better place now" (pun not intended), it fits so well with what we know about pop trolls mentality and life-style. The same trolls that erased and forgotten everyone that was lost during the escape, including the heir, would also accept a little brother as dead and go on without checking so they can better ignore the grief of losing him. Thinking about it, thats a way better and in-character reason why Floyd never came back
People say that he was out partying or he forgor or whatever, but the thought that some 3-5 years later he stopped to think and realized "oh... hes probably dead by now", and now having to choose between confirming the "reality" that his brother died waiting for him or just moving forward, be happy and never think about things that upset you (that just pop trolls second nature at this point)
There is a part of me that still wants to write Brozone facing that grief either by having to save Floyd without him or reuniting some other way, now with the added against of "everybody including you forgot your brother ever existed, isn't that fun!". Thinking about it, I may even write that Branch died in the woods or something instead of the bergens. He didn't die because they left him in the tree, he died because they never came back for him. And the same mentality that "helped" them "grief" (read: ignore) his supposed dead is the same mentality that caused the pop village to ignore and ostracize him (that being what actually killed him). Tragic, gut-punching, hope they surfer and cry about it :)
But for my actual headcanon of the brothers mentally during those 20 years, I can only imagine your view of the situation is just that good and accurate. Thank you for entertaining my thoughts and sorry for the rambles lol
Thank you! I love overanalyzing things, and Trolls is a very fun subject to work with!
It's very in line with Pop mentality to just accept that and move on. Bruce especially lives on Vacay Island where "every day is a vacay". I could see a bit of that mentality existing there. Maybe not the 'sugar coat everything in glitter' degree but 'why worry?' type of ignore your problems.
Branch dying on his own rather than in the tree I think is a way more terrifying reality. Hundreds of Pop Trolls were eaten, and that's seen as the Bergens fault. Branch getting injured and having no one to check in on him so he passes is on the village. It's been mentioned in Rock Sibblings but the fact is, that was a reality Branch faced. Poppy likely would've come by EVENTUALLY but she was younger than him.
In Rock Sibblings the truth is if not for Poppy deciding to follow after him, no one would have ever known what happened to Branch. In Techno Branch and Classical Branch, no one actually does until 15ish years later.
With his brothers, it's sad to say that with an alive Branch, there's very little that could have them initially realizing that Branch is hurt. I mean look at him in Trolls Band Together. He's not fully grey but he's very drastically darker than they all are despite initially all having the same skin tone. Yet none of them react or mention it. They're fine to ignore the situation at hand.
Never apologize for rambles. That's what we do here.
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i think another issue with webcomics having any scene or being taken seriously at all is that its a lot of stale air, everybody got captured by ig/twitter/tumblr and subsequently become trapped in the trappings and style of those websites. all discussion is couched in the boring 'fandom' subculture on websites with pre-built in infinite scroll and shit search, so updates to their comics or body of work are just as ephemeral as posts that are basically 'lol i farted on my dog' and any criticism is 'just being mean' or 'dogpiling on a poor artist'. not to mention any discoverability of anything new is basically going down the twitter/instagram likes of 'known quantities' for your own comic taste because of how atrophied any discussion around the medium has become
I dont see any way to escape this beyond social media dying a brutal and unprofitable death
trying to argue against the webtoons/IG model was entirely pointless the few times i tried, but its a topic that's hard for me to not devolve into frustrated sputtering about. it's so obviously antithetical to the purpose of making art, enjoying things, creation, joy, goodness, etc. and i would, frankly completely irrationally, be framed as someone who had it out for vertical strips. a sentiment which makes no sense unless you assume im the biggest moron and dipshit in the world. im sure arguing against someone is easier when the position you saddle them with is a seriously stupid one.
the inevitable downward spiral of these platforms feels entirely predictable. any model that revolves around quantity over quality is an obviously flawed one in most circumstances but when applied to art its completely absurd. the ideal artist for these websites are people who have no interest in contributing to a vaster landscape of complex works and instead are hyper-focused on being part of a large scale skinner box experiment for adults with compulsive spending issues. the artists themselves have severe numbers poisoning.
these are purely ephemeral and unremarkable comics that are rarely ever seen outside of instagram for their lack of any exceptional or worthwhile unique elements worth passing around. they are created with a factory mindset; crank them out as quickly as possible and flood various websites with the comic equivalent of grey goo in order to amass the maximum number of clicks. their ideal audience is undiscerning and simply looking for stimuli that will not challenge them on any level. logically it follows that is work is explicitly for the largest possible audience one can acquire: the lowest common denominator. they are making work for a computer or an advertiser to enjoy. human enjoyment is secondary.
the unironic and sincere discussion of views and followers as if the numbers have ever been real was surreal. everyone was around for when facebook revealed that it had been grossly inflating its video metrics after strong-arming everyone into moving to video, causing the destruction of several indie companies and websites. you would have to be straight up delusional to think the webtoons numbers are real. like, it is genuinely hard for me to be nice about people who bark bark bark about "its where the audience is!!!!" when the worst comic you've ever read with 2 updates has 12876492375238576 views, 0 patreon followers and 8909 comments. the obviously AI generated comments by accounts with no profiles (as in, you can't click on profiles at all to confirm its even a real person commenting) are beyond the pale lol. its some emperors new clothes shit, if the emperor made his own invisible clothes and cried about how hard they toiled for nothing. and also they were emperor of synecdoche, new york
how does a reasonable adult look at this and conclude its real? isn't it an obvious fiction? its because it's mean to point out otherwise, and being mean is the worst thing you can be.
people used to bitch about how the "had to" made reels and i felt like i was going insane. superstitious nonsense about "the algorithm" spread and has incited people to tortuously warp their work to fit with advertising standards they don't see a penny of, in the hopes of finding an audience that doesn't exist. when the algorithm changes to better suit advertiser needs, they are somehow blindsided and betrayed by this, as if it has not been the M.O. of social media websites for the past 20 years. they will do it again. and again. and again. as advertising becomes less and less financially viable and more and more intrusive, public opinion is going to turn hard on the people who tied themselves to these ships.
call me a rat for fleeing, but i can't bear to entertain this stuff anymore. it's embarrassing, the idea of sacrifice in the name of a greater good (sacrifice being uhhhhh not using fail platforms lol) should not be such a shocking and radical act. it should be reflexive
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Hello Can I ask for a drabble of a female mc who is petite, muscular, and bad at dancing, getting dance lessons from simeon? he is supposed to be a better dancer than lucifer
petite like... luke petite... Thanks cc and have some water please lol
Hi there, anon!
Gosh, everybody keeps trying to get me to drink water. :(
I MEAN I'm gonna go do that right now, I swear! In the meantime, have this Simeon fluff! I hope it turned out okay!
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Simeon!”
You stepped back, flustered. You had tried to tell Simeon before you started that you had two left feet. Now he was experiencing your lack of dancing skills for himself. You could only hope that you hadn’t hurt him too much when you stepped on his foot.
Simeon surprised you with a soft chuckle. He took your hand and put his other hand on your waist, moving you back into the position you had stepped out of.
“It’s all right,” he said. “But you need to stop looking at your feet, MC.”
“Right, sorry,” you said.
“Let’s try again.”
Simeon led you through a few more steps, but it wasn’t long before your eyes dropped again. If you could just watch what your feet were doing, then maybe-
Simeon’s hand left your waist. He stepped closer to you, blocking off any space between you with his body. His fingers took your chin and tilted it up to look at him.
“Keep your eyes on me, MC,” he said.
You wanted to. But looking into those brilliant blue eyes was more distracting than trying to catch a glimpse of your steps. You felt your cheeks heat.
Simeon stepped back again and twirled you, perfectly guiding you through the move before pulling you in against his chest.
The music was soft and sweet - some slow piano piece that allowed you to follow the beat easily. You were in Simeon’s room at Purgatory Hall and the music was playing on an old gramophone, giving it a vintage quality.
You tried not to look down as Simeon continued to lead you through the dance, occasionally directing you or correcting your steps. His hand on your waist was light, but possessive in a way you couldn’t articulate.
Every time you cast your eyes to the floor, Simeon tilted your head up again. Amusement and fondness always sparkled in his eyes when they met yours.
“Relax a little,” Simeon said. “You’re too tense. This is supposed to be fun. Let yourself feel the music and trust me to guide you.”
You did trust him. You relaxed. He could tell when you finally did and you found yourself being swept about the room. He was grinning and his exuberance was infectious. You let your guard down, letting yourself stumble only to feel him catch you every time.
And then Simeon dipped you dramatically as you both laughed together. It was easy given your small stature and you found you had the strength to remain in that position for some time if necessary. Simeon pressed his forehead against yours, the laughter dying out slowly as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes.
You waited. You didn’t move. He was the one leading and you wanted to see what he would do.
Your heart soared when Simeon kissed you gently, your body still held half suspended in his arms. The music swelled, a sudden influx of violins echoing through the room. They mirrored the way your heart expanded while the tinkling piano notes matched your rapid heartbeat. But nothing could emulate how safe you felt in Simeon’s embrace.
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#I think Simeon would be a good dancer#he's just got that graceful quality about him you know?#like even when he's doing something that should be klutzy he's elegant about it lol#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me simeon#om simeon#obey me simeon x reader#om simeon x reader#obey me simeon x mc#om simeon x mc#request#misc writes
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