#truest thing i've ever read

[keithsandwich]

[duhsty1]

If a pit is good enough for the Medieval children, It's good enough for the Pizzaplex.

STEP RIGHT UP!!!

[thepersonperson]

Gege is doing to his characters what they did to jfk there's so much character assassination happening djsjdsnsdjn

This ask was sent to me shortly after I complained about JJK 269 leaks. (Aka before JJK 270's release so be nice to them.) And while I still agree that chapter contained character assassinations, JJK 270 has given me a good reason for them. 

Since my other post related to this topic was trimmed down by Tumblr’s 30 image limit, I’m going to use this ask as an excuse to this burning question...

Why does everyone feel so out of character in JJK 268–270?

Notes before we start.

1) Read the light novels. They are the equivalent of Bleach's CFYOW for JJK. There is a fan translation (Book 1 & Book 2), but I will be citing the official translation from my own copies.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans for the manga because of their accessibility. 

4) Written as of JJK 270.

5) Read the light novels.

(Another extremely 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Click pictures for captions/citations.)

Preface

This post is banking on the framework I set up in the previous related post so please read/skim over it. (If you don't? Just hear me out!)

Short Summary of the Previous Related Post:

Yuji is projecting a massive delusion onto Megumi that gives him a happy ending. JJK 268–270 is a mesh of Yuji and Megumi’s memories and dreams that serve to rationalize all that’s happened to them in a way that allows them to forgive themselves. Sukuna’s vessel memories are probably mixed in too.

Because of this I’m assuming the following:

>The battle recollection in JJK 269 is Yuji constructing explanations from his, Megumi, and Sukuna’s memories during their battle. Neither of these 3 ever knew the plan in full. This can explain why so much of the battle recollection is wrong.

>The characters we see outside of Yuji and Megumi are constructs based on their memories of these people. They’re more like representations than the actual characters.

I don’t know if it means they’re dead or not, but that doesn’t matter. I want to explore the way the characters feel off can be explained by them being memory constructs.

In the previous post, I used "Without love it cannot be seen." from Umineko to give my best faith reading of these past 3 chapters I've hated so much. This time the tool I'll be using is:

"Flipping over the chessboard."

This refers to how one should try to see things from a different perspective.

Memory in JJK

A neat touch that has always been around in JJK is characters remembering others as they last saw them. When Gojo recalls his best students, Hakari has a very different hair style from when we meet him. His recollection of Yuta's is accurate though. When Panda recalls Yuta, the hairstyle differs from what Gojo recalls. And when he recalls Kiara, he mistakenly refers to her as a guy.

This all can be explained by considering when Gojo and Panda last saw these characters. Gojo last saw Yuta in Kenya with Miguel where he changed his hairstyle. Panda hasn't seen Yuta since he's left the country. Neither Gojo or Panda have seen Hakari and Kiara for a very long time.

Their memories reflect how they last knew them. Kiara is a whole girl now and Hakari is blond. But if Panda and Gojo never saw them again? Those memories would be true to them, even if it’s no longer accurate.

And sometimes the memories aren’t accurate. See this side by side recollection of Gojo meeting Megumi from both of their perspectives.

I believe Gojo’s memory of this event is the accurate one because he’s 19 when it happens, not under distress when he recalls it, and has the Six Eyes which act like a supercomputer. Megumi’s memory is iffy because he’s 6 when it happens, has a head injury that knocks him out when he recalls this, and doesn’t have perception enhancing abilities. And though Megumi can’t recall the memory in its truest form, what he does remember still tells us a lot about his feelings towards the event and his relationship with Gojo.

The emotions child Megumi felt at the time distort what Gojo was actually like back then. Instead of a benefactor, he’s a suspicious weirdo with a funny face. The heart behind Gojo crouching down to his level, being way too honest with him, trying to give him options, patting him on the head—it’s all missing.

With all this in mind, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume Megumi and Yuji’s impressions of other characters via memory would influence how they appear in these delusions too. Yuji’s impressions probably take the most precedence since I think his will is shaping the delusions the most.

Recalling Incomplete Information 

Yuji is very good at understanding people. He can intuit their feelings and sync up with them easily. (I go over this in greater detail in this post.) But that doesn’t mean he fully understands their hearts. He gets close enough to their core to bond with them, but the little details aren’t quite right. 

If all the characters (save Megumi) we’ve been seeing in JJK 268–270 are constructs based on Yuji’s perception of them, I think this can explain everything off about them.

What made me consider this possibility was JJK 270. There’s this pattern I keep seeing... Characters’ motivations being misunderstood and being resolved by scenarios that aren’t quite right. Every time I try to explain what exactly is wrong with them, assuming their inconsistencies align with Yuji’s perception of them solves the problem.

Amai Rin

Rin is introduced as a coward. He’s unable to fight and goes along with the whims of those stronger than him to avoid getting hurt. This is why he keeps his head low as his friend is being harassed by bullies during his Jr. High days. Still, he tries to help. Just not at a risk to himself.

When Yuji saves his friend and beats all the bullies up, he turns to Rin and assumes he was part of the bully group. This simply isn’t true. He was a bystander. That’s why it’s weird for him to apologize like he was the one who beat the guy up.

Yuji’s false impression of Rin, one where he’s a bully that feels guilt over his actions, explains this. Rin’s actual guilt comes from him being a bystander—someone who doesn’t take action for others when something is wrong. He dealt with that in the Culling Games by helping Yuji and risking his life to save Angel. And he really stepped out of his comfort zone to join the medical team for the Sukuna battle. He might be the reason Yuta survived. (Yuji doesn’t know about that though.)

And what’s this? Here Yuji outright admits he doesn’t fully understand what kind of person Rin is. All he knows is that he did some good things and is trying to become a better person. So now we’ve got this other Rin that’s apologizing for something he didn’t do for the redemption he’s already earned.

(And that’s the pattern! Rin’s motivation is misunderstood by Yuji so he’s doing something that seems out of character to us readers, but is perfectly in character for Yuji’s perception of him. When I apply it to everyone else. Everything makes sense.)

Takaba Fumihiko

What Yuji knows about Takaba is pre-Kenjaku development. Yuji knows the Takaba that speaks over others, rejects their criticisms, and insists he’s funny. That’s kind of what he’s doing to Totally Not Kenjaku. In reality, Kenjaku caused Takaba to reflect on his approach to comedy and they are nearly in perfect sync by the end of it. Kenjaku satisfied Takaba.

Yuji didn’t see that battle and he hasn’t spoken to Takaba since. So he’s constructed a happy ending where Takaba has found his partner and is working towards the show of his dreams that already happened.

I also want to note that Takaba is 100% ok with sex jokes. Kenjaku makes one and he doesn’t object to it. This is just another little detail that makes everything so slightly off.

Higuruma Hiromi

Yuji knows that Higurama wants to go back to his roots. He knows that he feels guilt over killing people.

What he doesn’t know is that Higurama’s roots are him being a defense lawyer that cherishes the flaws of humanity. He doesn't want to ever look away from the impurities that even Yuji has. That’s why I think Yuji resolves his problems with him becoming a sorcerer who saves lives.

Yuji seems to think that Higuruma is like him. He’ll make up for the lives he’s taken via sorcery by saving more. That’s something he could assume from their convo, but that’s not actually what Higuruma wants. He wants to fundamentally change Japan’s legal system for the better in his own way.

Kurusu Hana

She’s the most in character of the bunch. In fact, there’s nothing out of character about her interaction with Megumi. What she represents is Yuji misunderstanding Megumi’s desires.

Yuji understands that Megumi’s type is someone with an unwavering humanity (literally the definition of Yuji’s name) via access to his memories. But for some reason (he’s kind of dumb academically), he thinks this means Hana is perfect for him. 

I think this is because Hana meets Yuji’s definition of a good person. She’s just like Megumi. She saves others for a selfish purpose. And that means…Hana does not meet Megumi’s definition of a good person. Not once has he considered her saving others as selfless. (...But Yuji has.)

And that’s just facts. Hana is kind of unhinged. She’s extremely possessive of Megumi and saves others solely to win him over. Yuji saves others because it’s the right thing to do.

Megumi’s preferences are Yuji, not Hana. Which has led to the most awkward confession and rejection scene. That might have clued Yuji in to construct an alternative. In the memory Yuji is probably recalling, Todo does clock Megumi as someone into dudes.  …The very next scene is Yuji hitting on a dude in front of his gf in a way that causes him to blush. (Yuji has not once complimented someone’s body up to this point if I recall correctly. And he’s been around some beefy dudes.)

(Yeah Nobara me too. Second most leftfield possible bisexual confirmation I’ve read in a manga. The first will always be from Baki the Grappler.)

Is this Yuji letting Megumi know it’s ok to come onto him? Is he not initiating because Hana’s forwardness freaked Megumi out? It’s possible. 

What this suggests is that Yuji is kind of fine tuning this whole delusion to make Megumi as content as possible. It’s telling that the moment Megumi starts getting super uncomfortable the scene jumps to something else.

It happens at the beginning of the chapter too. Gojo is mentioned by Shoko in a way that causes Megumi to pause. And Bam! Change scene.

Anyways, I hope this demonstrates that Yuji working with the limited information from memories is most likely the reason for everything being so funky. It’s character assassination by accident.

Why make these happy endings when this is all for Megumi?

Two reasons as to why I think Yuji is trying to give everyone a plausible happy ending.

1) He genuinely wants them to live good lives.

2) It has to be believable for Megumi to accept them as real and forgive himself.

This line may have been about Yuji, but Megumi’s not any different. He blames himself in the exact same way Yuji blames himself.

I also think there's something to be said about Yuji crafting a dream that resembles the perfect cookie cutter Shonen ending. The guy gets with girl he has no chemistry with. All these complicated plot lines are wrapped up with a neat little bow. Everyone lives and goes on like nothing traumatic happened.

Yuji is a big fan of Shonen. Straight up his final move against Sukuna is a Hunter X Hunter reference. That's not just Gege doing a reference as a fan, Yuji himself is a fan of that manga.

I think Yuji is trying to make this fiction a reality because it's the only way he knows how to cope with his trauma.

JJK 269’s Character “Assassinations”

I promise I still hate this chapter. But I won’t deny how fun it is to pretend these are all delusions Yuji created for Megumi’s sake. I went over Kusakabe to cut him some slack in the previous post, so let’s do everyone else.

(The chapter’s formatting as one long unending nightmare makes it hard to separate this stuff out by the character. I’m just going to do groups this time.)

The 2nd Years

The most common complaint from readers outside of Kusakabe telling Yuji he should’ve died is Maki being really fudging mean to Yuta. Maki is mean, but she’s not that mean. You could assume this is her showing Yuta she cares and that her anger scales with worry but… Here’s a side by side comparison of her getting angry over Yuta risking his life in Vol 0 vs JJK 269.

Pretty big difference I think. Here is a Maki with a Yuta she thinks is about to die vs a Maki with a Yuta who is 100% ok. And the only reason she even gets mad in Vol 0 is because she had no idea Yuta did something that risky. Maki already knew Yuta was going to body hop if all else failed, so her reaction here is disproportionate, especially since he survived.

Speaking of survival, the first thing Maki, Panda, and Inumaki do when Yuta survives in Vol 0 is ask if he’s ok and thank him for saving them. This doesn’t happen in JJK 269. They're all very protective of Yuta after the events of Vol 0. We see them defend him from Gojo for being a little mean about his training. They’re all against the plan because of how much they value him. The 3 of them not checking in on Yuta immediately after the fact is wildly OOC.

The explanation I have? This version of Maki is based on Yuji and Megumi’s memories of her. (And let’s remember that Megumi claims he can’t openly respect her and the other 2nd years outside of Yuta.) When Megumi and Nobara mourn Yuji’s “death”, Maki does this to them.

Maki also intimidated Yuji pretty bad when they first met. Her, Panda, and Inumaki went along with bullying Yuji after he came back to life. It makes sense that Yuji would up Maki’s meanness. He’s not been around her long enough to know she’s not like this when it comes to people she cares about. 

I do think it is weird Maki is pre-awakening levels of mean. This could also be Yuji trying to return to the time before everything went to absolute hell. Or...because she’s Yuji’s construct, this could be him expressing his anger at Yuta for defiling Gojo’s body in a very roundabout way. From both Yuji and Megumi’s perspective, Yuta didn’t discuss this beforehand and used it as a last second plan. And that’s kind of how the conversation goes. Everyone talks about Yuta’s Yujo plan like he didn’t clear it with them first.

It’s also telling that they harp on Yuta over Miguel and Larue. Miguel said no help unless Sukuna’s domain was down. Everyone except Yuji knew that. There was never a scenario where they’d help from the start. But to Yuji who only heard they might show up? It’s a missed opportunity.

Say if you were, trying to find a reason for such a horrific defiling of a loved one’s body. Wouldn’t you try to reconstruct the crime by considering the motives and methods? That would help give you some closure, right?

I think that’s what Yuji is doing for himself and Megumi. Yuji is trying to figure out why things went the way they did through a blend of what Sukuna intuited and what makes the most sense to someone who never had full knowledge of the plan. 

And if you think about it, this is still a happy ending for them. They’re all absolved of their guilt surrounding the outcome of the battle. Even if they screwed up, they’re all still alive and able to move forward in a better world. They did the best they could, so it’s time to move on from what happened to Gojo. Thinking about that too much would break someone.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui

Mei Mei is out of character in a way that’s unique compared to everyone else. She’s still herself, but with less…yikes. It’s odd since Yuji has seen how awful Mei Mei can be and is deeply uncomfortable with how she treats Ui Ui. He’s not missing information about her motives so why have we gone from this to this?

I propose this is an extension of Yuji’s denialism. (We’ve seen how avoidant he is with Gojo’s death.) Mei Mei is grooming Ui Ui and has made it clear this is all for money. Ui Ui is being abused, but he’s so attached to his abuser that separation would break him. How do you make a happy ending out of that?

Well, you can soften those edges. Spin a tale where Mei Mei is an over-doting sister who would kill for her cute little brother. She doesn’t touch him inappropriately, she just plays with him. She loves money as much as him! No abuse here! She’s not someone who would kill a child for cash.

And in a weird way this whole Simple Domain debacle mirrors Gojo killing the higher ups. If Maki is Yuji's rage towards the Yujo plan, then this could be him trying to process his mentor slaughtering a bunch of old people in mass for his sake.

It probably helps that Yuji wasn’t there to see Mei Mei tell Ui Ui to die for her. There’s no way he knows she was paid to help kill him either.

Mei Mei doesn’t care about the well-being of other people. She’s just a hardcore capitalist who loves money and will do anything for it. But this version of her can be less terrible to Ui Ui while still getting her cash and that’s sort of ok I guess? Yuji has moved on from this and so will I.

The Megumi & Nobara Problem

The 1st years going on like nothing happened after Sukuna has made readers feel betrayed. It flies in the face of everything that’s been established for them when it comes to mourning.

As stated in CFYOW, JJK Thorny Road at Dawn, Chapter 5: At the End of a Sidewalk, this is how the trio deals with grief.

Despite knowing Yuji for only 2 weeks his death screws with Megumi and Nobara pretty badly. In the manga, it looks like Nobara is more upset because she’s visibly in pain, but I think the light novels show they’re equally shaken. 

This is why the non-reaction to Gojo’s death makes no sense. Megumi has known Gojo for a decade. He’s 6 when he first meets him and 16 when he dies because Sukuna used his Cursed Technique (CT). Nobara knew Yuji for 2 weeks, and didn’t see him for another 3 months. In all that time, Gojo was her teacher. She knew him longer than Yuji. When she “dies” Gojo is on the same tier as Yuji and Megumi to her.

So why is it that in JJK 268, Nobara thinks of Gojo as a creep? Why did she toss his letter despite him being one of the people she thought of in death? 

Well… When Yuji came back from the dead via Gojo’s prank he heard Nobara say this.

Nobara is prone to saying out of pocket nonsense to people. If she thinks it, she says it. Yuji also doesn’t understand Nobara’s thought processes (Just like Amai Rin he admits it too!). Nobara tries to hide her feelings to appear tougher than she is sometimes. So I think Yuji has done to Nobara what he has done to Maki—upped the meanness and neglected the heart.

And though Nobara being a construct can explain her behavior, this still leaves us with Megumi who is definitely not one. Why is he acting like Gojo meant nothing to him?

Megumi in particular is super fragile when it comes to his feelings. This is how stressed he gets when he learns exactly why Tsumiki is in a coma.

She’s not even dead and he’s halfway to a mental breakdown. The idea that he can just look at her grave once after having a hand in her murder and move on this quickly makes no sense. Inadvertently killing his defacto guardian he’s been raised by for 10 years should be upsetting him to a similar degree. (Maki said Gojo treated him like a precious treasure!)

When Megumi is on the verge of death he thinks of Tsumiki, Yuji, and or Gojo. It’s always at least 1 of those 3. There’s no way Gojo dying and having his corpse reanimated for reasons Megumi might feel responsible for isn’t screwing him up.

Unless…Yuji is suppressing his memory on purpose. He can’t even cope with what happened to Gojo, how is Megumi supposed to? How can either of them forgive themselves for that if they acknowledge it in full?

When Sukuna tries to tell Megumi to give up, he looks miserable. Every time Sukuna has verbally kicked Yuji while he’s down, he’s done it with a big old smile and laugh. He doesn’t hold back and goes for the throat.

Sukuna is being very nice to Megumi here when he doesn’t mention Gojo at all. The only death he blames on Megumi is Tsumiki. Everyone else? Nothing. That’s weird given that Sukuna will pass the blame of his kills onto Yuji to torment him.

Is this Sukuna a construct or is he playing nice because he respects Megumi? Who knows. Whatever happened here seems to point to Gojo’s memory being suppressed for Megumi’s sake. 

And why might Megumi accept this suppression? Why does he seem to be going along with Yuji’s delusions? The Unlimited Void brain fog. Megumi brings attention to it after he wakes up. 

If Sukuna can’t think straight after Gojo brain damage, neither is Megumi. Still Yuji has to be careful. If Megumi thinks too much, the illusion will be broken. 

What does this mean for them?

Well, the character assassination isn’t real (probably) which is a good thing! Other than that? Not a clue. We’ve got a real catbox situation here. I can’t tell who is dead anymore.

Sukuna projects delusions when someone he’s connected with is dying. Yuji projects delusions when he’s dying. Both of them are kind towards the people they’re interacting with in this space between dreams and reality. They try to give people endings that leave them satisfied.

JJK 270 ends with the hunt for a curse user who can distort perceptions of reality. This curse user is initially mistaken as a cursed spirit. That sounds like Sukuna I think.

I’m pretty confident this happy ending illusion will be shattered, that's for sure.

My Final Answer

I'm betting it all on this being a delusion. This is a kind of prediction that will either age well, very badly, or interestingly. I don't know what's in store for the final chapter...but I do have some ideas I'd like to speculate with.

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This time I'm going to use this phrase very literally. I'm going to make one final gamble on the assumption that love is the answer. So let's go back to Love itself—one of those reoccurring themes in JJK.

Love is a curse in JJK. It has the power to distort reality and transform loved ones horribly. Desperation to save a loved one from death over and over has resulted in extremely traumatic things. Yuta turned his childhood crush into monster that caused havoc for years. You can pin blame everything that has happened in JJK on Gojo being unable to get over the loss of his loved one, Geto.

Hana could've vanquished Sukuna on the spot, but she didn't because she loves Megumi. It's something a lot of people blame her for. If she had just killed him there, the Sukuna battle wouldn't have happened. But that's not really the truth. The only reason Sukuna even got his powerful is because Megumi refused to let Yuji die.

Megumi and Yuji going back and forth trying to save each other have been acts of love driving the plot of JJK since the beginning of this manga. If Megumi actually died on Yuji? Who knows what would happen.

...

A lot of readers have been on a very funny copium because of these last 3 chapters. Some of them joke that they are just one massive Takaba-induced hallucination. This theory has some merit to it! After all, his CT does two things:

1) It distorts reality.

2) By sheer force of will it bends people's souls to his whims.

One of the biggest complaints about the past 3 chapters has been the Merger plot ending abruptly. As of JJK 270 Tengen and Sukuna's remains have been mixed into the barrier around Japan and everything is just fine according to Gakuganji.

People wanted to see what the Merger would do, just like Kenjaku. In universe, Tengen made a prediction. They guessed that the impurity from humans would dominate and consume everything. The impurity that Higuruma wants to protect. The impurity that Higuruma sees in Yuji.

Would Sukuna activate the merger and kill Megumi to spite Yuji? Absolutely.

Would Yuji do or become anything to save Megumi's life? Absolutely.

Do whatever you want with this information.

[httpswritings]

cinnamon girl — Katie McCabe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of surgery, anesthesia, anxiety and clowns.

Word count: 970

Summary: Comforting Katie as she has to face one of her biggest fears.

A/N: Based on this request <3

“There's things I wanna say to you, but I'll just let you live”

“I can't! I can't do it because I'm scared... I've been scared all week because just the thought of anesthesia makes me want to throw up.”

Katie. Funny, extroverted, and entertaining.

Everyone always had a good laugh when they were around her.

Confident, strong, and optimistic.

That's the main idea people had about her.

Only her closest circle knew that, behind the shell of being an outgoing and charismatic woman, a vulnerable and sensitive Katie was found.

You had been discovering this aspect of her as she let you get to know her better.

Always being cautious with who she would open to, she knew that she could trust you but still didn't want to show her truest self as she was worried of scaring you.

“But if you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did”

You hugged her in absolute silence for half an hour. Only the sounds of the street and your breathing filled the room.

You softly shushed Katie when she apologized to you for shouting at you.

Her breathing began to slow down as she sighed and leaned on your chest.

“You don't have to pretend to be fine, Katie. Anesthesia's not a big deal for me, but it is for you, the same way clowns are funny to you and I'm frightened just by thinking of them.

Katie giggled as she remembered the time when you hid behind her as a kid dressed up in a clown costume approached you on Halloween.

“What I mean, baby, is that you can open up to me. I'm here for you. I'll probably won't be able to be next to you when your surgery takes place, but I'll be outside of the room thinking about you. If, when you're there, you feel like you can't calm yourself down, think about me and focus only on those thoughts. Imagine me being next to you, holding your hand, and telling you how much I love you and how proud I am of you for going through this, because that's how I feel. The proudest girlfriend ever knowing my brave girl is going to do great.”

-

“Hold me, love me, touch me, honey, be the first who ever did”

Katie couldn't stop looking at you. It's just as if she stopped doing it, you'd disappear.

Her hand was tightly holding yours.

You could see her eyes were holding tears back.

Her glazed expression was concerning.

“Darling, you're going to be okay. Thankfully, they've let me stay in this room during the whole procedure, so I'll be waiting for you to take care of you just the way you deserve. When you wake up, you'll have a precious bucket of lilies adorning your room. I'll go buy them when I certainly know that the operation is over, so don't worry about me being far away when you're still going under surgery.”

-

Katie remembered your previous words. «Imagine me holding your hand. Focus on me and only me. Me. Me. Me. You're safe, Katie. I'm right here.» She noticed the syringe piercing her skin.

You noticed how Katie's body tensed, so you rushed to caress her cheek. «Katie, it's okay. I'm here, baby. Focus on me. You're safe.»

She kept looking at you and hearing your encouraging words until the anesthesia started to do its work.

She began to lose consciousness with you easing her nervousness until she completely dozed off.

-

You were with her during the whole surgery. You couldn't deny that you were nervous, listening to the surgeons give orders to their assistants.

Seeing your girlfriend so vulnerable overwhelmed you with a feeling of protectiveness.

«You're doing great, Katie. I'm so proud of you, darling.» You thought as if she could read your mind.»

When the surgeons told you that the procedure was over, you kissed Katie on the forehead and went to buy the lilies you had promised her.

-

Katie began to wake up, and just as you had promised her earlier, a beautiful bucket of lilies accompanied her in the room, with you caressing her hair and softly smiling at her.

“Hello, sleepy girl.“

She smiled as she opened and closed her eyes, blinking in slow motion.

“How did it go?”

“Shh... It went well, baby. How do you feel?”

She tried to settle into the bed, but you stopped her.

“Darling, don't do that. Let's wait until the doctor comes so we can know if it's okay for you to sit down.”

She whined, but obeyed.

“I feel okay. I feel a little bit dizzy and as if I have a cold. My stomach feels weird, but I'm hungry.”

Katie looked around the room, noticing the bucket of lilies.

“Your promise...”

Her amused tone warmed your heart.

“Yes, my love. I always keep my promises. Do you like them?” you said referring to the flowers.

“Of course I do. They're so beautiful.”

“They are. They're not the most beautiful thing in this room, but they're pretty decent.”

She looked confused for a second until she realized what you meant.

“I don't look beautiful,” she said, laughing ironically, still with a soft tone due to the anesthesia.

“Look is not the correct word. You are beautiful. No matter the circumstances.”

She rolled her eyes and tried to stabilize herself, as that movement made her dizziness stronger.

“I don't have the strength to fight you, but you know—” She stopped talking as she looked at you.

As she regained more consciousness, she realized you were there and what that meant to her.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you for being here, and thank you for understanding me.”

You kissed her head and caressed her cheek.

“I'm so proud of you, Katie. So, so proud. Not only have you faced your fear, but you still take your time to be grateful.”

You both exchanged a look that showed nothing but pure admiration for each other, making that hospital room brighten up with your love.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

To expand on a prior post I've made, it is really fun and it makes a lot of sense and it feels ultimately natural that Spahr is here at the end, in this last confrontation with Weepe, because he and Weepe are rivals. They're, almost unexpectedly, foils.

They're arrogant men who allow and enable awful things to happen to others to protect and increase their social standing. They hurt the people they care about most for self-serving reasons—but in the end, only one of them takes responsibility for that. (Trustfall and Ghosts are inverse parallels, and this post discusses a portion that is most relevant here.) Weepe increasingly identifies with the Trust as Spahr is increasingly disillusioned with it, and Weepe rises to power at the same rate that Spahr falls into disgrace. Just as Weepe is convinced that he will always be an awful person and fatalistically believes he cannot ever do better, Spahr has been convinced he has a self-evident righteousness but eventually sees that not only does he not, but he can and must do better.

Beyond that, they're narratively tied together. Weepe is in the Highest Light because Spahr agrees to bring him. Spahr helps Imelda lock Weepe in the Arca, and he does it in part for smug satisfaction because of his personal dislike for Weepe. He wronged Weepe by participating in engineering the circumstances that led to his torture and by failing to intervene against it out of fear for himself, and the fact that he wronged Weepe is something that Spahr is explicitly aware of and is something that weighs heavily on his conscience. It is through the Arca that Spahr traces Weepe's ascension to Tripotentiary as a direct result of his actions; he believes that he failed to stop, or even facilitated, Weepe's rise and everything that results from it.

For much of the narrative, they're racing to the same goal, even sometimes without knowing. Spahr is on Midst specifically to find the Breach centerpoint, and Weepe identifies it as the cabaret and turns it over to the Trust before Spahr has any chance to start looking. Weepe pulls the Fuze-Loxlee investigation out from underneath Spahr when he convinces Sherman to name Fuze's murderer, ultimately succeeding where Spahr fails. He takes the information to the Upper Trust himself after Spahr was removed from the investigation for, simplistically, lack of progress. Sherman chooses to trust Weepe over Spahr, and Weepe wipes his debt before Spahr can.

When Spahr is court-martialed, he is given the opportunity (read: pressured) into donating all Valor accrued during his tenure to his successor — and then that donation apparently goes to Weepe as part of a series of donations to help set him up as Most Valorous. The role of the Prime Consector gets folded under the new position of Tripotentiary, and without a Prime Consector appointed, Weepe is the sole direction that the Company has. Weepe even moves into the residence held by the Prime Consector, as we're often reminded that Spahr lived there before Weepe did. Weepe is Spahr's successor in all but literal title.

Spahr waits until Weepe repeats the order to bring Lark and Phineas to refuse. At the moment where Weepe is at his most elevated and Spahr at his most diminished, when they are such extreme ends in the hierarchy, it is to Weepe that Spahr says, finally, "No."

As Prime Consector, Spahr was ideologically (though not materially) the truest manifestation of Valor. A Consector's job is to hunt, to pursue those who have escaped the Trust and restore them to the Trust. At this point, Weepe is all that is left of the Trust, its only manifestation, and all he does now is hunt Lark and those who aid her, to rebalance and to restore what is felt lost.

As funny as it is that Spahr is here at the end as the only one who isn't a protagonist, it makes so much sense that he is here in the confrontation against Weepe. He has to be. They're foils to one another, one of their many. Their actions have deeply entangled themselves in one another's arc. Over the course of the story, very slowly, there's been a changing of places between Weepe and Spahr.

Of course Spahr is here too. He was a razor's edge from being the one bearing down on that cabin. He was very, terrifyingly close to being on Weepe's side of the door.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

October 2: Friends, Family, Loved Ones

It was Harry’s birthday, and as much he felt embarrassed when a big fuss was made over him, he loved that Draco had planned him a party out in the manor grounds, a big white tent lit up with sparkling fairy lights.

The food was good and the company even better. All of his friends, family, and loved ones gathered around playing games and telling stories; then once they were drunk enough, singing karaoke. He was giggling into his glass of wine (his favorite: Draco had given him an entire bottle just for him) as Hagrid finished a mopey ballad.

Draco was looking unbearably smug about how happy Harry was and Harry couldn’t help but find the smugness horribly endearing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek, warm from wine and happiness, “I love you,” he murmured before tucking his nose against Draco’s neck, “thank you for a brilliant birthday.”

“Sap,” Draco accused with a soft tsk, but he was pulling Harry closer, pressing kisses into his hair. “I have one more surprise for you,” he said, and Harry could hear the quiet undercurrent of nerves.

He kissed Draco’s neck, pausing to suck lightly at it just to hear him gasp and feel his body wriggle, “you’ve spoiled me rotten today already,” he said and he’d meant it to sound accusatory but it only came out ridiculously pleased and terribly fond, his whole chest like spun cotton candy, fluffy and light, and sticky sweet.

“Well,” Draco said, “this one is a little bit selfish.”

Harry hummed and just cuddled a little closer so that he was more in Draco’s chair than his own.

"I have to get up to give it to you," he said, chuckling softly and pressing even more kisses into Harry's hair.

With a heaving sigh, he forced his body upright once more with a piteous groan.

His boyfriend leaned down and pecked his lips, "Love you," he murmured against his mouth.

"Mmmh," he hummed, wrapping a hand around Draco's neck and drawing him closer.

"Menace," Draco murmured, kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, like there was nothing else that he'd rather do.

Harry grinned up at him when he pulled back, trailing the tips of his fingers over Draco's flushed cheeks.

"Tell me you love me," Draco requested, soft and sweet, smiling and open.

"I love you," he said, soft and sure, the truest thing he's ever known.

With a mischievous smirk, he gave Harry a wink and sauntered off. It was a couple minutes later when Draco appeared on stage, wearing a sequin top and a pair of short white shorts, tummy peaking out as he pulled the microphone out of the holder.

He cleared his throat, "I wanted to thank you all for being here to celebrate my very favorite person," he said and Harry's face stretched into a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. "And also for bearing witness to what's about to happen," he added as the choruses of 'awws' and whistling died down.

Draco gave a nod to Blaise who was standing at the ready by the karaoke machine waiting to hit play. And then Draco started singing, looking out at Harry with a huge grin.

"The moon is high, like your friends the night that we first met," he started.

And Harry laughed at the memory, they had all been high that night after they'd graduated. Lounging about or dancing around the club, causing all sorts of chaos.

"Now I've read all of the books beside your bed," he continued with a wink. Harry grinned up at him, because that was true too, they'd read most of them together, actually, curled up under the duvet. He hadn't been read to as a child, but Draco more than made up for it with the voices and the dramatic way he read.

"The wine is cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street. Cat and mouse for a month, or two, or three," he sang on, twisting his body to look at Harry coyly and Harry remembered the months between when he’d started to feel attracted to Draco and when Draco had started to believe him, "now I wake up in the night to watch you breathe."

There was another round of 'awes' and some pretend wretching but Draco rolled his eyes and sang on. Meeting Harry's gaze once more as he sang, "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings," and Harry's heart flew into his throat at the implication, did he mean it? Was that even possible?

"And I hate accidents, except when we went from friends," he gestured between the two of them, "to this."

His heart burst, Draco did so hate the unplanned, abhorred surprises. That proclamation-

"Darling, you're the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams-" a chorus of laughter and whistling broke out and Draco's cheeks flushed bright red but he kept singing, staring at Harry with a naked devotion and affection.

He couldn't breathe with it, his heart rattled painfully around his chest.

Draco sang the next verse before jumping down off the stage and making his way to Harry, bending down as he sang "kiss me once, cause you know I've had a long night," Harry leaned in obligingly and kissed his cheek. "Kiss me twice cause it's gonna be alright," and there were those nerves tingling from Draco's consciousness and into Harry's. He leaned in and kissed his cheek again. "Three times, cause I've waited my whole life." And this time he leaned in to press a hasty kiss to Harry's lips like he couldn't help himself while they counted him back in.

He sang the refrain again, climbing into Harry's lap as he melted into the bridge, "I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays-"

Harry's throat went tight around those words, around the way that Draco loved him when he couldn't make heads or tails of the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him.

"-Wrap your arms around me, baby boy," he said, giving one of Harry's arms a little tug.

He repeated the bridge, wrapping an arm around Harry's neck and carding his fingers tenderly through Harry's curls, making Harry tear up again as he stared up into those beautiful silver eyes.

Draco moved into the refrain again, slower and a little sweeter, like a promise. "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings." Harry gripped him a little tighter, "you're the one I want," he sang softly. "And I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this, uh huh, darling.”

He jumped up, Harry’s fingers trailing after him as he went, singing the refrain again as he made his way to Pansy who was holding out a small box for him. “In paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams,” he sang as he made his way back over and dropped to his knees. “You’re the one I want,” he sang, looking up as he opened the box to reveal a gold band.

Harry’s hands flew to his mouth, like a complete cliche, “Draco,” he whispered as the crowd around them went unnaturally still.

“Marry me?” he asked, eyes tight around the edges like he thought Harry could possibly say no.

“Yes, of course yes,” he said, “you silly, perfect man. Of course.”

The room erupted into cheering but Harry could hardly hear it, too wrapped up in his love to notice.

—————————

Written for @flufftober prompt 2 “friends, family, loved ones”

[margo-mania]

skimbleshanks watches starlight express and cries in pure joy

"it's...it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..."

the truest thing i've read all day

[this-is-z-art-blog]

[ID: digital drawing of Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Danielle also in her human form, and Valerie gray sitting in mismatched wooden chairs around a table. Sam, Tucker, and Danny are sitting in a tight cluster on one side of the table, Valerie on the side across, and Danielle at the head of the table, standing up on her chair. Each teen is holding a mismatched plastic cup full of soda in a toast, with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Sam is wearing a purple t-shirt and a black star of david choker necklace, smiling moderately. Tucker is wearing his cap and a yellow sweater over a lighter collared shirt, one arm around Sam and the other holding his cup high in the air, grinning. Danny has one elbow on the table, propping up his head, and is holding his cup by his face, looking pained. Danielle is wearing a blue and white tee with a planet emblem with her red shorts, dotted with green bandaids, smiling triumphantly down toward Valerie. Valerie is in an orange skirt and yellow blouse with flowing sleeves, eyes closed, face partly hidden in her free hand. All of the teens are calling out a toast, "To goop!"

In the background is a whiteboard with a schedule in green marker, and a small doodle of a ghost, and a tall filing cabinet.]

Art for chapter one of @jus-a-lil-mouse's amazing @invisobang fic, the truest thing I've ever known. This has been such a treasure to work on and a joy to read, and the prologue and ch1 are out now! More art coming soon, check out my partner's delightful animation here, and be on the lookout well as the rest of the story 👻💚

[bi-writes]

what never left us | j.m.

there isn't a place dark enough to hide the things i've done for you.

type: one-shot, written in third person (no use of y/n) pairing: dark!joel miller x dark!afab!fem!reader word count: 11.7k (oops, strap in) warnings: implied age gap, extremely mature language and content, extremely mature written sexual content (see details below the cut), 🔞⚠️ summary: it isn't your fault that nobody understands how far you'll go for him; it isn't your fault that they don't understand what he is to you. complete masterlist

detailed warnings: extremely dark content ahead. includes themes of extreme violence and murder + sexual, emotional, and physical manipulation. read at your own discretion.

It was not quite clear when she realized she was not like other little girls. Her earliest memories were not the same as other women. She had no memory of life before, of dollhouses and pink tutus. She only had recollections of still-hot gun barrels and the stray bullets they left behind; she only truly remembered the pink that blood became when washed away by rainwater, and how it could stain canvas shoes the same color if she stuck out her foot to meet the flowing trails.

She had not been interested in the things that other little girls were interested in. She didn’t want to play pretend. She didn’t feel like braiding her hair or coloring pictures or reading stories. She was only fascinated by what was. By reality. By the things that shaped the world, and not the things that existed in fantasy. The scars on her fingertips from touching the sharp edges of blades too often attested too well to that fact.

The only thing she found she had in common with some other girls, finally, was the way her eyes followed other boys. She did not fawn over them as some others had. Some of them had been pretty, had smiles that were attractive, but this was where she again realized she was not the same as anyone else. Where others saw the possibility of romance, of love, of the idea of forever in one other person, she thought practically. The first boy she ever kissed was willing to trade the kiss for a box of ammo. The transaction had seemed agreeable to her then. She never saw affection or love the same way again.

Touch was a deal, a trade. It was not gentle or kind, it did not signify love or warmth or tenderness. She learned very quickly that in this new world, in the only world she had ever known, touch was scarce and a useful bartering tool. She could use it to her advantage, trick men into thinking they had control, kiss them until they dropped their guard and reap the rewards of their lust-clouded minds.

Perhaps that was why to show affection, she thought violence was her truest option.

But there was nothing romantic about this. If she looked up and tried to forget what laid underneath her, she might pretend; if the only thing in her view was the sky, then perhaps she could play along with the idea that it was just another day. But the shielded view was brief, and when her eyes dropped back to the body beneath her, all she could really do was wrench the hatchet out of the girl’s neck and clean it off against the fabric of their shirt.

The girl was pretty. She had long hair, glassy eyes, and pouty lips. She thought maybe those lips were what drew him to her. They resembled her own, the curve of them just round enough to almost look like they belonged to her. She bent down, fishing through the girl’s pockets, finding crumpled rations in one and a few pieces of contraband in another—cigarettes, a few batteries, and a tube of 20 year-old lip gloss. She clenched her jaw at the sight of it. It was strawberry flavored, and when she popped the cap open on it, she smelled the moldy, sickly artificial candy flavoring that she had noticed against the collar of his shirt just a few hours ago.

She wondered if he knew what he smelled like. She wondered if he knew she was observant enough to smell something different on him. Something new. Unwelcome. She wondered if he knew and chose not to change his shirt or decided to see how she reacted. She wondered if he knew at all how much she felt, and how easily she let it consume her entire being.

No. He was a man. He definitely had not thought that far.

She tossed the lip gloss back on top of her, standing up straight as she slipped the hatchet back into its place on her belt. She rolled her neck out, taking a few glances at her surroundings before leaving the girl to rot in a forgotten corner of the city.

No one would find her. Not for many days, at least. Perhaps it would be the smell that they would follow to her. Or maybe the rats would discover the girl first and cover her tracks better than time could.

It was dark, much too dark. It was too far past curfew to be able to use the excuses she normally used; it was too long after work shifts to pretend an extra shift ran over, and it was too early to be on her way to a morning one. So, she kept to the alleys, taking cover in doorways when she noticed lights flooding through the streets. She was small enough to fit into hidden spaces, and she used it to her advantage, slipping between buildings barely making noise. Going through undetected, being able to disappear into a crowd, blending in and fitting in and being unseen was her specialty; no one could hide better, and no one could get their hands on what she could.

Smuggling was all she knew. Since she was small, growing up on the overgrown city streets meant learning how to survive. She was not able to work enough to live, but she found that as a child, she could get through places that adults could not. With this knowledge and just a bit of bravery, she learned how to move through the city in corridors and through spaces that only she knew of. If someone needed something hidden, it would not be seen until asked for again. If someone needed something taken from one end of the city to another, she would get it there every time. She was resourceful, determined, and too good at what she did.

Even as she grew, she kept these routes to herself, even made new ones when others seemed to follow her tracks, earning herself an unrivaled reputation that too many people needed in the city to ever try and stop her. She knew many, many people; but there was only one man that she ever cared to learn the name of.

Joel.

He had heard from a friend of a friend about what it was that she did. Hiding, disappearing, moving things around, it was what he needed, and he needed the best. It was just another job, taking a bag from him, not asking questions or looking inside of it, and taking it to a secure location before dropping it off somewhere very specific on the west side of the city.

But sometimes jobs got messy. She didn’t lose the bag. She hadn’t looked inside. She hadn’t left the package in the wrong place. No, she just let the job get personal.

She was a bullet that he never saw coming. The first moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was nothing but trouble. Such pretty features she had; he couldn’t stop looking at her. Hair lovely enough to pull. Greedy lips. Eyes he could get lost in. Figure-hugging denim, with enough pockets for her to hide something dangerous. And her voice—a siren song, a soft beckoning, a sound that he would never forget again.

The look in her eyes when he met her gaze for the first time told him she was thinking just the same thing. It was hard not to. There were men, and then there was Joel. All hard lines and words that stung like venom, but she liked them that way. And so she had smiled, wet her bottom lip, and purred as she took the contraband from him—tell me where you want it. In lieu of payment, she found herself tangled between the sheets of his bed, waking up to the sight of him counting the ration cards on the table and nodding for her to leave.

She had left. But it didn’t mean she stopped coming back.

She wanted to feel bad for sleeping with him. She wanted to regret every time she left his apartment with a shakiness in her step from how rough his touch had gotten. She wanted to take herself seriously when she promised that one more night was all she needed, and then she would never come back, but she always ended up right back where she started.

It was simple; she could not stay away from him, and he would not turn her away. There was a kind of satisfaction that came with ending up in his bed. Joel had his own reputation. He was good at what he did, too, and his name was enough to make others nervous. Joel could get his hands on things that no one else could; cigarettes, drugs, even books or the nostalgia of a certain candy for the right price. He ran his business like he fucked her—quiet, deliberate, easy.

He was not known to be a kind man. Often, she heard groups talk about him with distaste, complaining about the sway of prices in contraband or how they met the wrong end of his fist for trying to undercut him. She even heard a woman cry at the way he had killed her partner, but she just licked her lips at the thought, thinking the woman had been holding back part of the story, maybe perhaps a moment when her partner tried to hold a gun up to Joel’s head and cut their deal short. Joel was not a man someone tried to subdue; he was too good at reading the room, at handling himself around a gun, at using the rough timber of his voice to make others shake under his tense gaze.

And because of this, she felt her own power in the way she could have him underneath her any night she liked. What started out as a business transaction turned into genuine attraction, into learning what his kisses felt like and how warm his hands were on her bare skin and how nice his voice sounded as it spewed profanities into her ear. She was satiated inside having influence over a feared, unruly, unforgiving man, one at her beck and call. Joel was hers. He belonged to no one else.

She just wish he understood that. Then she wouldn’t have had to dirty her favorite weapon and dull its edge. Maybe, just maybe, that girl would still be so pretty.

When she shut the door to her apartment and turned on the lights, she bit back a smile at the sight in front of her. He was there, taking up her space, legs spread as he sat at her kitchen table and sipped liquor from a chipped glass. She realized early on that Joel had no clue how attractive he really was. He had no idea how the solidness of him was enough to have her on her knees; he had no idea that the low tone of his voice could get her off alone, and that there was no other living thing in this Godforsaken world that could handle her body the way he could. She put down her backpack, making her way to him, surprised but not unwelcoming of him waiting for her like this.

She stopped in front of him, expecting him to stand and kiss her and manhandle her into her bedroom, but he just sat there still, his jaw hard and tight as he moved the glass around in his hand and watched the liquor swirl with the movement.

“Where were you?” He asked. Her excited expression faded into something a bit dismal, and she tried to not let the annoyance show on her face. She made her way into her kitchen, opening one of the cabinets and taking out her own glass. She took a seat across from him at the table, tipping the bottle over and letting the clicking of glass against glass make up the only response to his question. She took a long sip of the drink, letting it burn her throat nicely before looking at him again.

He was staring right back at her, glaring almost. Joel could be mean; he often was, even to her, but she had learned to ignore this behavior. He was mean to everyone. He was mean and cruel and impatient, but she liked that about him. It meant there was no room for fluff, for nothingness. It was all or nothing with him, and she never liked to prolong a chase. She was quite content to let him have what it was he wanted.

“I don’t have to tell you that,” she said matter-of-factly.

“No?” He tilted his head to the side, laughing even, but it was dry and humorless. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Answer my fucking question.”

She tipped her head back, downing the rest of her drink before standing. She shook her hair out of the style she had put it in that morning, shaking it out before starting for her bedroom.

She didn’t make it very far. Just as quickly as she had started to walk away from him, he had caught her by the arm and slammed her up against the wall, towering over her with his height and broadness. She grunted a bit as her head hit the surface roughly, biting her tongue to not spit in his face in protest. She stared up at him angrily, but he put a forearm to her neck, holding her eyes to his so he could stare right back.

“Tell me where you were,” he muttered. “I ain’t askin’.”

She tilted her head to the side, gritting her teeth as she struggled against his obvious strength. She tried to turn her head to the side, but he pressed his arm against her throat harder, forcing her chin up just to breathe.

“What did I say?” He snapped. “Tell me.”

“Or what?” She shot back, a sick smile ghosting her face as she coughed a bit against him. “What are you gonna do, Joel? Hit me?” She snickered a bit, shaking her head as much as his grip allowed. “You won’t.” She leaned forward as much as she could, but it was close enough for her breath to warm his jaw. “You know I’d like it too much.”

He let his arm fall, his hand wrapping around the expanse of her throat and pushing her head back into the wall. She let out a hard breath at the new hold, but he was in control. He was too strong to fight against, but there was a gnawing in her belly that didn’t want to fight against this. If anything, his angry eyes were pretty, and his touch was hot, and his commanding voice was making her head dizzy with filthy thoughts. His intimidation was not having the effects he desired; he should’ve known better, should’ve known that they wouldn’t work on her at all.

“Listen to me—” He choked her a bit, almost lifting her up off her feet as he pressed her as hard as he could into the wood behind her. “If I find out you were up to no good, you won’t like what happens. I fucking mean it.”

“Yeah?” She let out with a strained breath. “You think I—You think I care, Joel?” She smiled again, a sickly sweet one that made his entire body feel hot with indifference. “If you’re going to try and scare me, you could at least not lie to me.”

“And you could try and not make fucking messes that I gotta clean up,” he growled. His eyes trailed a bit down her face, along her jaw. He lifted his thumb up, touching a speckle of something on her neck and watching it smear across her skin. Blood, still wet, painting her throat eerily. “What…what did you do?”

She felt his grip loosen just enough, and she let her eyes fall down the expanse of his face before settling on his lips. She stared at them, watching as he breathed steadily. They were a bit dry, a bit chapped, and she wanted to hydrate them, swallow him in kisses and let the night melt into morning into another forgotten day.

“Strawberry,” she whispered, licking her lips slowly.

“What?”

“It was strawberry,” she said again, a bit louder. “Strawberry lip gloss.”

Silence, and she scoffed a bit.

“I thought it was cherry,” she added, a terrifying smile on her face. Eyes sparkling with nothing but mischief, a sickening amount of enjoyment and satisfaction swimming in the depths of them. “But it was fucking strawberry…”

She finally let her eyes slowly rise to meet his, and she tilted her head to the side. She stood up on her toes, her nose touching his, their faces close enough that they could breathe each other in.

“Was it worth it, Joel?” She asked, putting a hand to his chest. “Tell me. How did she feel?”

He let her go finally, his features knitting together. A clear frown came over his face, and he stepped back from her. He still had a hand on her throat, but it laid there with no force, just holding her there. His eyes moved over her face, trying to discern what it was that she was saying. She looked so calm, too calm, and that smile on her was making him feel more uneasy with every passing second. He said her name, but his voice was so low, uncertain.

“What did you do?” He asked again. “What the fuck did you do?”

She put her hands on his chest, caressing the warmth of him for a moment. She leaned up on her toes more, her lips just barely grazing his, and he followed her instinctively, leaning towards her to try and close the space. Instead of giving in, she drew her head back just enough to deny him and pushed roughly on his chest, shoving him backwards with a grunt. She slipped the hatchet from her belt, putting the sharp edge to the middle of his chest, keeping him at a distance.

It was almost poetic, holding him there with the same blade that had sunk so deep into that girl’s carotid artery. She remembered her eyes as the life left them. She had watched as the blood that was supposed to be pumping into her pretty little brain spilled out onto the cracked floor instead, feeding nothing but air until she stilled and never moved. For someone that had gotten close to Joel, she remembered thinking that someone with so little fight in them didn’t deserve to be in his vicinity, in his circle, to breathe the same air as he did. The girl wasn’t worthy. She didn’t know how to survive. She would never have lasted, anyways.

Disposable. Naïve. Weak.

But worst of all, in my way.

“I should be asking you that question,” she murmured darkly. She let the blade drag up his chest, along the column of his throat, until it sat on the edge of his jaw. She let it dig in just slightly, forcing a low growl from him as a small bead of blood followed the invisible trail she had traced with her hatchet. She met his eyes, smiling again. “But it’s okay, Joel. I fixed things. You’ll learn.”

Because you’ll be sorry if you don’t.

She came close to him again, leaning up and putting her lips to his. Against his better judgment, he leaned closer, giving into her just like he always did. She licked into his mouth, letting the kiss warm him everywhere in all the wrong ways, and she tasted something so dirty on him. She was sure he must have tasted the same thing on her because he was desperate to keep her close, to keep kissing her, to get lost in the essence of her as he normally did. She bit down on his lip hard, drawing a hiss from him, and she pulled away slowly.

She whined with satisfaction, knowing she had him exactly where she wanted him. Staring up at him, into those sad eyes, she could see no matter how much blood she had on her hands, he would end up right here, following her lips and desperate for her to touch him in any way she desired. She separated Joel from other men because of how she craved him constantly, but she was always put at ease to know she could play him just like any other.

“Now…” She stepped back, letting her hand holding the weapon lower as she tossed it onto the table beside her. “Unless you’re going to join me—” She nodded her head to the bathroom, where a cold shower was waiting for her, “—you can let yourself out.”

She didn’t look back as she made her way into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror as she heard the front door of her apartment slam shut. She smiled anyways, smoothing a hand over her neck, watching the splatters of crimson smooth over her in strange, abstract lines.

She was so pretty.

He would come back. He always did.

His name was Brian.

I think.

He was new. He had a lopsided grin on his face, an easy demeanor, and he sipped alcohol with a slight wince, meaning he had yet to really get used to the bitter taste of whiskey. He was young, but he was just like the rest of them. She guessed he had grown up amongst the groups that ran the city. He had the stench of a boy dressing up like a man, and he had an eerie confidence in his eyes. He knew nothing of how things really worked, but he believed he did, and that was why he was talking to her in a husky voice, letting his lips graze the shell of her ear as he talked sweetness into it.

Her nails drew lines against the skin of his exposed forearm. She was staring up at him, pretending to listen to what he was saying, a little smile on her face. She looked sweet, as she always did, but he had no idea the thoughts that ran through her head. He had no idea that all she was thinking about was the contraband he had promised her, and how much more she could get out of him if she batted her lashes a bit more.

He was a man that responded to her advances. This was the trade, this was the deal, and he was falling into her waiting arms. A carnivorous plant perhaps, flashing and beautiful with a sickly sweet aroma, all too wonderful until they realized the sweetness would stick them to her, and they would have nowhere to run as she ate them right up.

There was nothing she wouldn’t do to get ahead. There was no person she wouldn’t step on. There was no place dark enough to hide the red on her ledger. She had no remorse for the things she had done, and she never would.

The noise around the speakeasy was low and buzzing, and the lights were dim enough to hide the way Brian’s hands smoothed up the skin of her thighs, but her eyes were adjusted enough to meet a certain man’s gaze from across the room. At the sight of him, she leaned in, letting the stranger crowd her space, his breath warm against her cheek, her smile coy and dark and hiding her true intentions.

Joel could see right through her. He had others around him, others wanting his attention, his opinion, his time, but he couldn’t concentrate on them. His eyes were fixed on where she sat at the bar. The boy was too close to her, he knew that much. He couldn’t see underneath the bar, but he imagined that there were unwanted hands in places that only he was allowed to touch. It was infuriating how she provoked him. She knew he was there now, he had locked eyes with her, and she seemed to be urging his anger to bubble up to the surface. She seemed to want him to lose his temper, to lose his composure, to stride over and slam that kid’s face against the counter until he had no teeth left to chew his food.

She wanted Joel to be mean. She liked when Joel was mean. He had heard her say it before, heard her moan it in his ear as he practically choked her into oblivion against the wall of his bedroom. She liked Joel when he was mean, and he could only guess that at this moment, she wanted Joel to be mean for her. He clutched a lukewarm beer tight, turning away from her. She was doing this on purpose. He did not want to entertain her irritable advances.

But, God, it was so hard to focus on anything except for her. She had taken her jacket off now, revealing a black tank top that revealed all her pretty skin. She was sweating a bit in the dark summer heat, and her chest was glistening with a slight sheen, drawing eyes exactly where she wanted them. She was too good at this, too good at playing the stupid, gullible woman. She was too good at hiding how dangerous she was. She was too good at letting men think she would coo and lick and kiss when in reality, she would bite their heads off as soon as she got them alone.

She liked biting. The taste of blood only fueled the hunger in her.

But then she were gone. She had disappeared into a small corner somewhere, leaving the boy to sit at the bar and order her another drink. Joel found himself moving through the crowd, weaving between bodies until he put his empty bottle down on the wood counter and motioned for another.

“Ought’a be careful with that girl,” Joel said finally as he waited for his drink. The kid lifted his head a bit, turning to face him. He raised a brow, looking Joel up and down before shrugging.

“What, you speak for her or somethin’?”

“Reckon nobody does,” Joel muttered. “Nobody can.”

He was wrong, but he didn’t really know he was wrong.

The kid had the audacity to stand up straighter, moving a little closer to Joel, glaring a bit.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business what we do, man,” he warned. “So why don’t you fuck off before you really piss me off, yeah?”

Joel didn’t even flinch, turning his head to look at him. He narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw just enough to show his irritation.

“All I said was t’be careful with her. Rest is up to you,” Joel finished, taking his new drink off the counter and taking a long sip of it. The kid leaned forward a bit more, shaking his head.

“Listen, man, I don’t know who the fuck you are or what your problem is, but fuck off,” he said lowly. “I don’t know who she is to you, but she sure isn’t with you, so I’m gonna take her out back, have my fucking way with her, and you’re gonna leave us alone. Because if I see your fucking face again, I won’t hesitate.”

Joel just smirked a bit, shaking his head before taking another sip of his drink. The boy had no idea who she was; he was so new that he had yet to learn her name, and it would be a mistake he would never forget, a lesson he would remember forever. She was all sharp nails and teeth, camouflaged in figure-hugging jeans and a beautiful smile, and the boy would learn too late how volatile she really was.

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

As Joel made his way back to his old spot on the other end of the room, he passed right by her. She let her hand catch his arm, dragging along the length of it. Her fingers brushed through his, almost intertwining, before making her way to her seat. He followed her figure as she took a seat again, whispering in the boy’s ear, something that made the kid smile and nod his head to the door behind her. She slid off the stool, her hand in his as they both disappeared out the back. Her eyes found Joel’s, and all she did was lick her lips visibly before the door shut behind them.

She knew he would follow. She knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself. She knew he would open the back door just a bit, just to watch her as she took the package from the boy towering over her. She pocketed it, staring up at him as she slipped the small package into her bra, a sultry smile on her face as he got close to her. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, two hands gripping her waist and shoving her into the hard brick of the wall behind her. She made a small sound of protest, but Joel knew she was playing a part. It was too easy, the kid was too comfortable; besides, Joel couldn’t remember the last time a man other than himself got the upper hand on her.

She sucked in a warm breath when she felt his two hands grip her ass possessively, forcing her to spin around and slamming her face into the rough wall behind her. She felt the rubble cut her face a bit, but she wasn’t worried at all by the compromising position. She could see Joel, staring from the crack in the door, and as the kid’s hands wandered to the front of her jeans, the door was kicked open hard, smacking against the wall behind it as Joel dumped the beer still left in the bottle and smashed the glass against the back of the boy’s head.

She smiled a bit, turning around slowly. The bottle made a sickening crunch when it shattered against the back of the boy’s head; his knees buckled instinctively, and he clutched the opposite wall for balance as he tried to regain his focus. She leaned against the wall as she watched Joel pick up the kid by the collar of his shirt and slam him against the brick over and over and over again. One large hand fisted through his short hair, using it as leverage to bring his face down against the rough, cracked surface of the wall. The sounds were unforgiving; bone crunching, struggling and pained breaths, the clatter of teeth as they fell against the pavement, hurried and spit apologetic words for mercy.

She let her fingers drag down the back of her neck, over her chest, and she bit her lip hard to keep from letting out a satisfied whine as she watched this man lose all of his constraint, all of his control, all of his poise just for her.

Just for her. All for her. Anything for her.

She had never seen this look in his eyes. Joel was hovering over her, staring down at her as he took shallow, angry breaths, finally letting the broken beer bottle fall to the ground with a loud clunk. She took her bottom lip between her teeth again, her eyes falling over his face in the low light of the street. His features were lit only by moonlight, but it didn’t hide the depth of his disapproval. It took everything in her not to let out a sound as he raised a hand to put a knuckle under her chin, tilting her face up to his to bring her just that much closer.

“Is this what you fucking wanted?” He asked. His voice was a rumbling, deep whisper, and if she was anyone else, it would’ve terrified her. Instead, she just met his eyes easily, wetting her lips and letting a little laugh slip out. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh? Is this what you wanted?!”

She shrugged a bit, not cowering even a little under his hard glare. She seemed to enjoy it, too much for his liking.

“I mean…I’m not thrilled…” She sighed deeply, looking down where the body laid beneath their feet. “It’s gonna be a pain in the ass to find another contact.”

Joel gripped her face harshly, his large hand suffocating most of her face as he squished it hard, making her look at him.

“That’s what you’re fucking worried about? Not having a goddamn contact?” He scoffed. “You don’t wanna talk about how you fucking let this boy put his hands on you? And that you didn’t do a damn thing about it?”

She shrugged again.

“You were here,” she said easily. “I knew you’d take care of it. You always do.”

Take care of it.

She knew Joel would not be able to help himself. She knew he would lose his temper just at the thought, and she knew what he might do when he saw it with his own eyes. She let it happen; she enjoyed it.

“You knew I’d kill the fucking kid—” Joel pressed his forehead to hers, unsure whether he should kill her, too, or kiss her. “—you knew what I might do. That’s why you did it.” He smoothed his hand up her face, across her cheek, into her hair. She let out a soft whine as he tugged harshly on it, his fingers tangled between the strands. “You don’t even fucking care.”

She shook her head, agreeing with him. It was true. She didn’t care. The boy was nobody, not to her. He didn’t matter. He was blood and flesh and uselessness, and nothing about him mattered. If anything, he would do more good fertilizing the dirt beneath him.

That’s what he was to her. That’s what everyone was to her, except for Joel. They were beneath her; blips on the same timeline as her, molded skin and pulp and bone and thoughts that would never mean anything. They either served her a use, or they were simply disposable.

“You’re right, I don’t care,” she echoed. “He’s nothing, Joel.”

Joel swallowed hard, pulling back to look at her. She stared up at him just the same. He dragged a thumb over her wet bottom lip, tracing the skin there. He shook his head slightly, his face almost saddening at the sight of her. She was too pretty for the twisted thoughts inside of her head. She was too beautiful to think so little of others, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to her. The possessiveness, the need, it fed the demons that lived in him, and he could feel them growing. She was no good for him; in fact, she would probably be the death of him, but he liked the feelings that scorched his insides when he did things for her.

Dirtying hands, wringing necks, forcing broken glass into soft flesh—doing it with purpose had only made the violence easier. This was not romance, it was evil, pure death and smoke and malice that would fester the longer Joel stayed by her side. Everyone thought it was Joel blackening her insides. They had no idea how torn apart she was from the inside out, and how her pretty features only made the vicious woman inside of her that much easier to ignore.

If they could see what swirled in her eyes now, they would hide in their brick houses. If they knew the kind of blood she had on her hands, they would never make the mistake of crossing her again. If they knew how easily she decided life and death, they would probably hang her.

“You killed that girl,” Joel accused her lowly. “Didn’t you?”

She tilted her head to the side slightly, parting her lips and letting out a soft breath.

“What girl?”

She grunted as Joel yanked at her hair, pulling at it hard enough to make her head throb.

“Don’t play games with me,” he commanded. “I know it was you.”

“You’ll have to be more specific, Joel,” she cooed, smiling up at him. “You know me. A lot of girls cross me. A lot of girls try and take what’s mine. It’s not my fault they have no idea what’s coming.”

It’s not my fault they don’t understand how far I’ll go just to prove a fucking point.

She spat out the last sentence, gritting her teeth as her eyes darkened. He pursed his lips, letting go of her only to nod down the alleyway.

He was motioning for her to start moving, and she did so without protest. She could feel his eyes boring a hole into her back, and every so often, she made sure to shake her hair out a bit and let her hips move with her slow steps. It was dark, and she had to keep to the shadows, and when the sound of a truck passing forced them to hide, she made sure to press her back to the front of him as they both used the backside of the building they were passing through as cover. He let out a sound of disapproval, but his hand still came up to hold her waist, and there was no mistaking the feeling of him against her.

Joel might’ve been a steel wall of hardened resolve, but he had his weaknesses. He was still a man, after all.

And God, what a man he was. As soon as the apartment door shut behind her, he was on her. Filthy, bloodied hands in her hair, lips biting into hers, knee shoving her legs apart as she used the wall to balance herself. She let her eyes flutter shut, savoring the taste of beer and warmth and maybe stale cigarettes. He tasted good, just like he always did, and she wrapped her arms tight around his neck as she sunk her weight down onto his thigh, dragging her hips in eager grinds. The friction of the denim of her jeans against his felt too good, and she let her voice spill satisfied whines and gasps into his ear whenever their lips parted.

“Can’t fucking believe you—” Joel muttered between kisses. “—there’s something so fucking wrong with you—” She slipped her tongue into his mouth, covering his lips with hers, giving him nothing but sloppy, wet kisses that was making it hard for him to breathe. She put both hands on his chest finally, pushing him back and off of her, staring up at him with a little smile as she forced him to walk backwards until his knees hit the back of the couch. She rested both hands on either side of him as she dropped herself into his lap. “You’re not listening to a goddamn word I’m saying—”

She kissed him again, swallowing his words, letting them die on his tongue as she guided both of his hands to grab both sides of her ass and squeeze. She moaned into his mouth, letting her senses be consumed by him.

The touch of him, his touch on her, leaving nothing but hot, wet skin in their wake. The way he smelled, a bit like fire, maybe blood, something so him and so dark and so utterly good that her mouth was watering. The taste of him, so bitter and tangy. The sound of his gruff voice, groaning and grunting and whispering filthy words as she dragged her hips just how he liked. And fuck, the sight of him—brown eyes blown wide with desire, the filth and grime of today’s work enveloping her as his arms covered her in their security. He was a man too overwhelming to take in all at once, but she was trying, and it was killing her.

How could he not see that she was the only one that could handle him? How could he not see that there wasn’t another woman in this entire fucked-up world that could understand him the way she could?

How can he not understand that he’s mine?

She pulled away from his kiss reluctantly, but her lips found the edge of his jaw. She lapped at the skin under it, dragging her touch up to just under his ear, just where he liked. She found the hollow with her tongue, the place that made him hiss and grit his teeth and buck his hips up into hers, and she delved into the space there with as much fervor as her swollen lips allowed. She pulled a harsh groan from him, his hands slipping up her waist, her top coming with it to reveal her bare skin underneath. She let him lift the fabric over her head and toss it aside, and she adjusted the bra she wore, letting his eyes wander low and admire the sight.

“You’re gawking,” she panted, putting a hand to his chest. She tilted her head to the side, bringing her other hand up and running her fingers along the edge of the dark material, his eyes following eagerly. She leaned in, to talk into the skin of his cheek. “You can touch, Joel. You can rip it off of me…you can do whatever you want to me. I’m yours…” She sat up in his lap, and he mouthed at the skin of her breasts spilling out of her bra, wet kisses that were making her realize she was soaking through her jeans now. “You can take whatever you want from me, Joel. You don’t even have to ask.”

It was true. She never wanted him to ask. Sometimes, she would stare at him from across a room and wish that he could saunter over and just take her against the wall she leaned against. She wished he would bend her over her kitchen table and not give her any warning before burying himself so deep, she felt him in her guts. She prayed that he would wake her up with a hand on her throat, his teeth against her ear, and his hips drilling into hers as his way of fucking a good morning into her.

I wish he would see that everything I am belongs to him, and that all I want is for him to just take and take and take from me.

She fiddled with her belt as Joel took care of her bra, tossing it aside. She liked how he paid such attention to her bare skin, how he kissed and sucked and breathed against the precious parts of her now exposed for him to taste. He lifted her hips to slide her jeans off, nearly ripping her panties as she tried to take those off just as eagerly. She was completely bare, naked in his lap, but she made no move to undress him.

There was something so enticing in the air. Joel, fully clothed and letting his hands wander and squeeze and grope and touch her everywhere, while all she could do was whine and tug on his curls and lick over his lips—it created a power dynamic that had her leaking onto his jeans, darkening the denim until he hissed, feeling the damp fabric against his skin. She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him hotly, begging him with soft words not to move away from her, to hold her tighter, to fuck her silly.

She gripped his shoulders tight, starting to pant with need as she rocked her hips into him with more force. He had barely ghosted a few fingers over her, but she was eager to come, in any way he would let her, and as he sat back with a smug look on his face, she realized he wanted her to ride him just like this, to get herself off pathetically fast without even seeing any part of him naked. She felt the denim smooth against her pulsing clit, and it only drove her hips faster against his, her face dropping to rest in the crook of his neck as she chased what she could only hope was her first high of the night.

Soft, wet, palpitating, every part of her aching with need, he could feel it. As she found her breath again, just after wetting his lap with her bliss, he had shoved two fingers deep into her, thick digits spreading her open and making her whine with overstimulation. He fit his thumb over her clit, watching her jaw go slack as she let her hips chase his hand. She was just reacting, her body absentmindedly following his every move, responding to him as he knew she would, and it was raw and wretched and pulling at every part of her.

But it was an act. It was a show. She was just pretending. Even though it looked every bit like she was just the submissive, pathetic, whining, pretty girl Joel was fucking at the moment, she knew that she had this man wound so tightly around her finger. Although he spoke the filthiest words and was making her wet his hand with need, he was hers to do with in any way she wanted. All she had to do was bat her lashes, kiss him soft, and beg, and he would give her whatever she asked for.

Whatever I want, whatever I need, whatever it is that my little heart desires—he will do it for me. And it won’t matter who has to die or who he has to hurt or who he has to step over to get it.

As much as it seemed Joel overpowered her, she was the one who painted the picture. Whispering in his ear, guiding his hands, telling him what he needed to hear. He could growl in her ear all he liked, but it never convinced her otherwise. She knew this was true; even despite what he knew about her, even despite all the lies she told, he was still here. He was kissing her, pumping his fingers inside of her and drawing soft moans from her, and she knew he would give into her like he always did.

Joel could pretend he was done with her as much as he liked; but he would come back for her eventually.

“Please—” She begged, throwing her hips down against his hand, feeling full but not full enough. “Please, Joel…I need more…”

“Now you’re begging?” He scoffed, sucking roughly on the edge of her jaw. “Now you wanna listen to me? Is that it, sweetheart?” She nodded in response, whining, pawing at his shoulders to get herself even closer, melt into him if it was possible. “Maybe you don’t deserve it.”

“Joel—!” She gasped, shaking her head. “I-I do…I do!” She brought his lips back to hers, breathing in his groans as she let her hands wander between their bodies, her hands finding the outline of him and squeezing eagerly. “I do deserve it…”

If it was possible, his eyes darkened, a black hue of anger and lust that made her heartbeat pick up faster. He tilted his head to the side, leaning close, his lips kissing just under her ear, mouthing there as he curled his fingers and shoved his fingers so deep, she stifled a scream. His other hand tangled into her hair, gripping her tight, making sure she understood that she was at his mercy, and not her own.

“Listen here—” He tugged on her hair until her eyes met his, and she let out a gentle sob of need. “Look at me—there you go, give me those eyes—” He put her forehead to his, and she spread her palms against his chest, feeling the warmth and broad expanse of him. “If you think for one second that you deserve more, you’ve got it all wrong.” He licked over his bottom lip, shaking his head. “I know what you did. I know that it was you.”

She arched her back, pressing her bare chest to his own, his flannel feeling so soft against her hot skin. She tried to grind her hips, but his other hand dropped from the back of her neck to her waist, keeping her still.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he snapped. “You’re not sorry.”

She let out a shaky breath, shaking her head.

“I’m not sorry for doing it,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for making you upset.” She cupped his cheeks, kissing him warmly, using her weight to push him back against the couch. As they kissed, she felt his grip loosen just enough, and she moved her hips again. His fingers flexed inside of her, his thumb finding her clit and making her moan softly with relief. “I’m sorry for making a mess, Joel. I’m sorry for making you mad…” She moved her hips a bit faster, riding his fingers as her apology, giving him the moans he wanted to hear and drenching his lap to show him how sorry she really was. “I-I’m sorry for letting him touch me…”

“Fuck—” He kissed her back eagerly, trying to find serenity here. It was impossible with her. She was all heat and fire, all bite and sharp edges. There was no calm with her, no peace. Chaos followed her, and sex was a vice that she used with fervor. She didn’t know who she was if she wasn’t running. She had no idea what life was like without risk, without blood, without the good, bad things that had her on an adrenaline high constantly. If she came down, if she stilled for even a second, Joel feared what might be left of her. He feared he might not recognize her. He feared that without her pretty face painted with that sick, sweet smile, he might not like who remained.

Reluctantly, she pried his hand from between her legs. She slipped dirty fingers between her lips, licking her arousal off his calloused hand. She kept her eyes on his as she ran her tongue over his knuckles. They were bruised, split probably from wrenching answers from some poor soul or perhaps the boy he had pried off of her, and she soothed the bite of his wounds with wet kisses and her soft tongue. She let his hand go, letting her own slip between their bodies and work on his confining belt.

“Now you listen, Joel,” she murmured, undoing the buckle, listening to the metal clink as she loosened the denim around his waist. “If I ever find out about anyone else touching you, I won’t hesitate to do it again—” She cupped him roughly, drawing a grunt from him, and she smiled darkly. “You can’t hide anything from me. And you’re stupid if you think you can—” She swiped a thumb over the tip of him, spreading the slight dampness there over him. “—and I’ll kill every woman in this God-awful place just to prove my point.”

She kissed him, letting her tongue find his. She lowered herself in his lap, the heaviness of him in her hand making her feel even warmer inside. She let go of him, putting both hands on his shoulders as she sat down on him, feeling him slip between her folds. She grinded down against him, smoothing her slick over him and watching his face twist with need and want and rising anger at her words.

She gripped his jaw roughly, gritting her teeth.

“You’re mine, Joel—” She put her thumb to his bottom lip, forcing his mouth open. She gathered wetness in her mouth, leaning forward and spitting right onto his tongue. His eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated as he swallowed the spit she gave him easily. It tasted like her, like the cunt he adored too much, and if he wasn’t so embarrassingly hard between her folds, he knew he wouldn’t hesitate to put his face between her thighs. She was such a filthy, sweet, delectable woman for him, and it twisted his insides in terrifyingly good ways. “—and I’ll kill you, too, if you don’t stop testing my fucking patience.”

This was what really drove her crazy. They were fabric cut from the same cloth, two sides of the same coin. Instead of soothing the fires inside of her, he set them ablaze. The kiss they shared was all teeth, all bite, all rough breaths and filthy curses. They were both fighting for control over each other.

He pressed her into the couch, her back against the worn cushions. He gripped her hard, one hand on the back of her neck and the other gripping the outside of her thigh, her legs wrapped around his waist as he finally sunk into her with no warning. She let out a gentle cry of relief, enveloping him and squeezing around him as he buried himself until his hips were pressed to hers, his mouth at her jaw as he gave her no time to adjust. The feeling of him filling her to the brim, stretching her in every good way, would never be enough. She needed more, needed him inside of her, tangled around her, filling all her senses until it was all she knew.

“Can’t even call you a good girl—” Joel grunted, beginning a grueling pace as he fucked her into the couch, not letting up for even a moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching her back, trying to meet his thrusts with equal power, but it wasn’t fair. Joel was too hard, too rough, too overpowering, and she was failing as she tried to keep up with him. “Cause you’re not—you’re not a fucking good girl—”

She mewled, pressing her lips to his, trying to drink in his words and taste them and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. She arched her back more, pressing herself tight against him, and she moaned as he mouthed at her breasts, sucking the skin there and leaving soft bruises as he dragged his teeth against her.

“You’re always up to no good,” he kept growling. She panted, dropping her head back a bit as he kept up his pace. His hips were hitting her hard, punctuated by his words, and she closed her eyes to savor the stretch, the roughness, the perfection of his cock molding her insides to his. The squelch of skin on skin was so lewd, but it only made her wetter. “Always gettin’ into trouble…my pretty girl—”

My. Mine. She’s mine.

She was sin in one woman. She was the personification of every horrid, murderous thought Joel had ever had. She was the embodiment of his nightmares, the devil in disguise, the incarnation of the scars on his heart and the blood under his fingernails and the notches on his belt and the tick, tick, tick of the timer on his inner clock, the one he knew would break when he went just too far. Maybe that was why he loved her so much. Maybe that was why every part of her made him hot and bothered and needy. Maybe that was why Joel could not stay away from her.

Maybe that was why no matter what atrocity she committed, he never saw her as anything but his, and his only. He never saw her as tainted. Or evil. Or impure. She was just his, and that was enough.

That was perfect.

Perfection.

That was what her cunt had to be. It was perfection. Joel would drown in it if she wanted him to, if she allowed him to. He thought, selfishly, that relinquishing breath just for one more taste of her would be a kinder death than the one that probably waited for him. He thought about this as he nudged her head back onto the arm of the couch, going for the warm skin of her neck, biting it, kissing it. He wanted to bruise her and mark her, so darkly that she would find them in the mirror days from now and think of him.

He didn’t stop her as she threw her arms around his neck and brought their lips back together. She was whispering softly between kisses and whines, rocking her hips against his with just as much force. They were sloppy together. He had both hands on her hips, manhandling her taut flesh as he drove her body back to his again and again and again. She was so wet, dripping between them, a weeping cry from her own body that told him she needed him so badly, she would do anything to have him.

“Oh, now you’re quiet, honey?” He muttered in her ear, reaching up and putting his hand around her neck again. She sputtered as he sat back on his heels, yanking her with him, holding her up in his lap as he brought her body down on him over and over again. He looked up at her, at the pretty bounce of her on top of him, limp to his touch and crying for him. “Look at you—” he groaned, feeling the walls of her clench and squeeze and suck him in, telling him all too well how much she liked this, “—can’t even fucking speak—ugh—” he kissed her hard, “—have I fucked the brat out of you yet?”

“Joel—please—” she begged, letting out a soft sob of relief as his thrusts got shallower, faster. “O-Oh…” She put her hands on his face, cupping his cheeks, feeling the scratch of his beard rough against her palms. She met his eyes, could see the shine and the darkness of them, and she leaned forward to kiss him softly. Despite the grueling pace Joel had set, despite the bruising smack of his hips against hers, her kiss was delicate and sweet, taking his breath away. She was too good at that, at making him feel. “Joel…” She sniffled, tears coming down her face at how good he felt. “Joel, I need you…”

She was so pretty. It was all he could think about. He caged over her again against the cushions, this time with his lips against hers and his body towering over her, the warmth of him and space of him enveloping her. He wasn’t fucking her anymore, this was something else. He hiked her legs around his hips, grinding deep, his pace slow but his thrusts just as heavy. She needed him. Just a few words, spoken through her lips, and Joel was soft. Petting her tangled hair, kissing her warmly, pressing his cock deep into her and staying there for just a few moments before pulling out slightly and doing it all over again. He drew long, relaxed moans from her, and he breathed deeply as he thought about how much her cunt felt like heaven.

He didn’t know how it was possible. She was not an angel, anything but; everything she touched blackened to its core. But he couldn’t think of another word to call her, to call this. He only felt this searing pleasure in his dreams.

And buried between her legs.

“I-I love you, Joel,” she purred, arching her back. Her chest pressed to his, and he couldn’t help but dip his head and lick the sheen of sweet that had gathered between her breasts. Salty, dirty, entirely her, and he dipped his head again to suck her breast into his mouth and smooth his tongue over her nipple. She cradled his head to her chest, panting now, her thighs shaking a bit as she met his eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, a haze in them that was cloudy and drunk with bliss. There was lust, more than anything else. If there was love there, Joel had no idea; he had never seen what loved looked like in her eyes.

He didn’t think it was possible for her to love anything. And perhaps it wasn’t. She thought it was love. To her, nothing else could explain how she behaved around him. The obsession with him, the possessiveness that overcame her, the protectiveness she felt whenever he came home with new wounds that would scar, the revenge she sought when anyone touched him. She didn’t care whether those touches were warm or kind. He was hers, and she would make them sorry for putting their hands on him.

She tugged his face back to her, feeling that coil in her belly tighten and tighten. She put her forehead to his, licking over his bottom lip before kissing him hard. One hand slid to press between his shoulder blades, the other pushed against his lower back, a silent gesture to get him as close to her as possible.

His breaths became more broken and shallower. She arched her back into him, pebbled nipples poking him as he snaked an arm under her and used this new position as leverage to fuck up into her at a quicker, more aggressive pace. He punched into her again and again, quickening with every breath as he chased the mind-numbing feeling that was growing in him. She squeezed him, her entire body trembling slightly as she tried to take every thrust, but they were both losing to each other, in the feeling of one another. She gripped his biceps now, her nails digging in hard enough to elicit a harsh hiss from him. She could feel blood, but it didn’t faze her—she wanted to mark him, scar him, until no other woman could have him like this.

If another woman held him there, they’d feel her hands, where her nails dug into him, and they’d know they were preying on another woman’s territory—one they would not live to speak of. She thought of this as he fucked her into a pleasure-drunk headspace, her high blinding her. She didn’t even register the scream that left her until Joel was kissing her quiet, swallowing the sounds, drinking in the cries of her ecstasy and tasting her mewls. It was like her cunt was taunting him, begging him, scolding him for not coming just yet—it took only another whimper of his name for him to collapse on top of her in a fit of groans.

She thought she might have come again when he did, it felt so good. Her thighs shook, her body molding to his as she felt him sinking deeper into her, so snug, his spent trapped in her as they both refused to move away from each other. When he tried to move off of her, she kissed him, making a soft sound of protest and keeping him close.

“Don’t go—” she gasped, slipping one hand low and gripping the back of his thigh, coaxing him to slide deep again and settle there. “Fuck—” She craned her neck to bury her face into the side of his, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. She chased the closeness of him, the muskiness that the air around him held. She never wanted to leave this place. She wanted to stay here forever, Joel cock-deep inside of her, and she wanted him to keep her here and never let her leave. She wanted him to chain her ankles to this place and force her to stay, naked and waiting. She wanted him to use her, to never let her go, to be selfish and mean and merciless with her until she was nothing but his, his, his.

She wanted to forget her name. She wanted to lose her memories of the outside world and confine them to these four walls. She wanted to kill the sad things inside of her and focus only on the pleasure and the love and the unforgiving warmth that settled inside of her whenever she was underneath him like this.

She wanted to sink her teeth into his flesh and bite it, sustain herself only on Joel and whatever he would feed her. Because she knew she was dying inside, and only this feeling could save her.

She could not explain why she felt nothing inside when she did the things she did. She was not sorry for anything. She felt no regret or shame or sorrow. She didn’t think she could’ve done things differently or spoken softer or spared any more lives. The only time she felt even remotely human was like this—with Joel connected to her in the most intimate way possible. Then, for a few moments, she felt warm in her chest. She felt vulnerable. She felt new—as if she had been born again and was learning the differences between happy and sad, angry and alone, deep love and utter hatred. She felt all of those things with him and nowhere else, and she would fight tooth and nail to keep him here, with her, always.

There was no one she wouldn’t kill for him. No one she wouldn’t torture, no one she wouldn’t crush under her booted toes. In fact, she would take pleasure in it. She would seek out the feeling. Just like she did with the pretty girls that put their hands on him. Just like she would again.

Because she knew it would happen again. She didn’t know when or how or why, but she knew there would be more girls that would try and lure him in, more men that would try and cross him, but she would be ready for them. Because he was all hers.

They would learn quickly what that meant and the distance she would go to keep it that way.

She turned over, in bed now, laying on her back, her head settling against the pillow. He was turned to face her, their eyes meeting for just a moment before they went back to looking over each other. She reached over gently, her scarred knuckles meeting his cheek and running slowly down the skin there. Her eyes were soft, softer than he had ever seen before. She was looking over him, studying him in the light of the moon, letting herself commit the moment to memory. Something about it felt romantic; something about this made her feel something akin to emotion. She thought maybe this was why she cared too much for him.

He was the only man who had ever made her feel anything at all.

“So is this how it’s gonna be?” He asked lowly. His voice was gravelly and quiet, but it was still heavy with feeling. She met his eyes, her thumb circling over the apple of his cheek. “You don’t like how someone acts ‘round me, and you just…get rid of ‘em?”

She turned more, fully facing him, letting her thumb roam to trace the line of his nose.

“This isn’t…you,” he said finally, and this got a reaction from her. She laughed a bit, bitterly, shaking her head.

“Then you have no idea who I really am, Joel,” she murmured. She let her thumb fall to trace his upper lip gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone else. If you didn’t know that by now, then you haven’t really been paying attention.”

She leaned forward and kissed him softly, closing her eyes gently, breathing in the Joel that remained in the early hours of the morning.

“And I know that it’s you, too.”

“Wasn’t always me,” he muttered. When she opened her eyes, she saw a flicker of something in the way he looked away from her. Guilt. Abandonment, maybe. It was the faraway of losing something he had tried to hold onto. “Whatever I am now…wasn’t always me.”

She shook her head, leaning her head to rest against his shoulder.

“If you think…the way the world is now to blame for who we are, you’re wrong, Joel,” she said softly. “I don’t remember what it was like. Before.” She put her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “I’ve always been like this. And so have you.” He moved his head to look at her, frowning, and she shrugged simply. “The before…all it did was hide you.”

Joel looked away, back to the ceiling. She was right. As much as he wanted to think otherwise, to believe that the end of the world was to blame for the man that he had become, the thought would be wrong. Inside of him had always been the man he was. The man that made the tough decisions. The man that killed someone before dinner and fucked the woman he loved later that same day. The man that bartered and tortured and murdered and crushed and fought like hell—this man was someone that had always lived inside of him—judge, jury, and executioner. There had just never been an opportunity for that man to come apart, to come alive, to manifest itself into the hungry, angry thing that clung to him now, the man that had never left him. Unlike her, the man he was had been dormant, hiding among the memories of his daughter and the life he once loved. She had always been this way; she never had a need to hide her ugly thoughts away, it was a person that had never left her. They thrived. They kept her alive.

A soft kiss to the side of his face made him blink the thoughts away. Another kiss brought him back to earth.

“I love you, Joel,” she whispered. “I love you more than anything.”

But now he believed her. In her own sick, twisted way, she did love him. In the horrid things that lived in her head, he was there, bubbly and bright and bathed in pretty lights. She was not good for him. She would turn him black and blue inside, she would take all the good that still rested in him, and she would bury it deep.

And selfishly, he wanted to do the same to her. So, “me…me, too, darlin’,” was what he said back to her. Because—fuck­­—if anyone was going to truly ruin her, it was going to be him.

He would make sure of that.

[kaaaaaaarf]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Hiii Reese!! 💖 So lovely to see you in my ask box! Okay, here goes:

note: all fics are wolfstar

1. back when we were dinosaurs (4/4 complete) - rated e, 37.7k words, my museum fic.

this was my little ode to toronto/canada and the wolfstar in this fic are so, so special and precious to me. I honestly think it's the best thing I've ever written.

Remus is the ROM’s newest curator of the paleontological wing. Sirius manages the gift shop and has a dinosaur obsession. They are cute little nerds together and sometimes they have sex in the archives

2. The Killing Time (Unwillingly Mine) (3/3 complete) - rated m, 17.5k words, my murder husbands fic.

this is my little dark comedy that could. it's fully unhinged, but also my most popular fic. it's the fic that got me writing in the first place.

Remus becomes the most prolific serial killer in modern history because Sirius is a slut and won’t stop getting engaged.

3. I Had A Dream That You Were Mine (a bside from my When You Open Your Legs series) - rated t, 1.1k words, hatefuck universe

it might be weird to list a bside from one of my series, but honestly I adore it. while these fuckers are in love, they aren't very nice to each other most of the time, and this is a nice glimpse into their relationship where you see how happy they actually are. I do recommend you start at the beginning of the series if you're gonna read this, but I'm not the boss of you. series description:

Love and hate aren’t as far apart as you’d think. When Sirius meets famed rockstar Remus Lupin at a pub, they quickly become arch-enemies—and there’s not much to do to but fuck about it.

4. check me out (one shot) - rated e, 5k words, university au, smut

this fic really snuck up on me. when I started writing it I didn't realize I'd love it so much. remus is oblivious and a nerd. sirius is a slacker but extremely determined.

Remus is suddenly sweating—not just because the library aircon seems to be broken, or because he has an eleven page paper that's due next week that he's pretty sure he’s getting zero help on. He's sweating because Sirius keeps looking at him like that—smirking at him from under his eyelashes, a feral spark to his eye like he's starving and Remus is a particularly appealing meal. He’s sweating because this gorgeous, frustrating man has just offered to suck him off in the middle of the library and he can’t think of a single reason to say no. He should be able to think of a reason to say no. He’s not gonna say no. “Uh, yes please.”

5. i'm green, you're green (one shot) - rated g, 2.9k, frog & toad adaptation

this one is just extremely sweet and makes me smile. written as an adaptation of the frog & toad series by arnold lobel. the playlist is also a joy.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, there lived a Frog called Sirius and a Toad called Remus. They were neighbours in a beautiful garden. Oh, how they loved one another! They were the truest of friends. These are their adventures.

my fic masterlist

[writingattemptsxx]

A Diamond and an Eel with a Clover

Trey starts dating Jade, and Cater finds himself picking up similar feelings.

—

First ever attempt at writing romance. This is just a ship I really like and wanted to share. This got way longer than I expected.

This is mostly Cater/Jade, but Trey and his ships are there.

—

Trey suddenly paused his mixing and looked up at Cater, giving him a smile. “Oh, I wanted to tell you, I’ve finally started dating someone else who I've been talking to forever now.”

Cater and Trey had opened up their relationship a while ago. They were both fine with it, thought it would be nice if anything, so after some conversations they both easily agreed. Cater was honestly a bit shocked his boyfriend didn't have someone hounding him sooner, but maybe that's just his bias.

“Aw! That's adorable! Who is it?”

“Jade Leech.”

Cater felt his eyes widen and his mouth part a bit. “Who? You’ve started dating who?” It's not like he didn't trust Trey to pick out someone nice, but it's impossible to not hear the rumors. That trio from Octavinelle didn't have any good words surrounding them.

Trey sighed. “Jade Leech. I know what you've probably heard, but trust me on this.”

“No no! I trust you. It’s just…” What was it? He couldn't say he didn't trust Jade, though that is probably the truest statement. “I was just a bit shocked tbh. Not something you would expect.”

“You’d be surprised what you learn when you actually get to know people.” His boyfriend gave a shrug and poured the batter into a tin as the oven started to beep. “Maybe you should get to know him. You two might enjoy each other’s company, plus it would be nice for you two to get along.” He wasn't even facing Cater anymore, fully turned to putting the cake in the oven.

“I can def try. We’ll just have to see how we get along.” That seemed to satisfy Trey who started to hum as he started to clean everything up. It’s not like Cater ever planned to intervene in any way. He truly does trust Trey. He could only sigh and hope things ended up well.

—

Trey! There he is. Why was Cater, the one without muscles, sent to get the extra bag of hedgehog food? Totes not fair.

It was only when he got a bit closer he noticed the baker talking to a tall person, dressed in their school uniform, and with light blue short hair. Jade Leech. The one who noticed Cater first.

Jade gave a sudden yet quick shift in his body language, guarding himself. It’s something that probably would have gone unnoticed by most others who didn't have experience doing the same. “Hello, Diamond. How are you?” He gave a fake smile that made Cater’s hair stand on end. He didn't scare Cater instantly as the rumors made him out to be, but he seemed as if he was hiding something. Right as Cater walked up to them too…

“Cater, hello. Do you need help with that?” Trey’s voice dragged him out of his thoughts. He nodded and handed over the bag of food.

“Riddle gave poor old me the job of getting the extra food bag, can you imagine that?” He leaned into Trey, gaining a chuckle in response.

“Oh, I definitely can.” He turned to Jade. “Forgive me, but I should probably help here.

Jade gave a small nod. “Of course. I wish you two a good day.”

With that, Cater and Trey started walking off to their dorm. Cater cuddled up to his boyfriend, thanking him for being his big strong savior, but he couldn't shake what he saw. He doubted there was any danger involved, but what was he hiding? No matter how much he thought he couldn't read any further into the mask. He, Cater Diamond, the one who worked so hard to being able to be friendly with all by being able to read them, couldn't read someone. He couldn't tell what bugged him more, that or his actual suspicions.

He simply took a deep breath. Trey wouldn't pick a bad person. He just needs to trust that.

—

For someone who's constantly on their phone, Cater actually doesn't bump into people often. It shocks him just as much as anyone else who he tells it to. Sadly, that luck doesn't hit every time. Sometimes he runs into people, like how he ran into Jade Leech this time.

They were both walking, so luckily none of them got hurt, it was just a corner blocking their view.

Cater looked up to Jade. “Hey sorry about that.” He was about to ask if he was ok, but as he took a step away, he noticed something off.

Jade’s smile seemed forced, as always. He had a barely noticeable lean away from Cater. His arms were crossed and held slightly too high up than someone calm, unusually close to the chest. His eyes were scanning Cater, but refusing to look at him for too long, looking anywhere else. His whole perfect posture felt stiff, as if he had to physically force himself there.

Was he anxious?

“Are you ok?”Cater didn't even know he was speaking out loud until he heard his own words hit his ears.

“Yes, I am perfectly fine. A small bump into another wouldn't cause any damage.” Jade finally looks at Cater’s face. His gaze felt soft. He had all these sharp features, yet with his eyes, they felt comforting. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm good.”

Jade gave a small bow. “Then if you will excuse me.” He continued to walk off.

Cater couldn't help but watch him leave, remaining utterly confused. He wasn't the man who was supposed to be able to ‘read your soul’, was he? He seemed anxious, not aloof. It made Cater think of him… differently… In what way? Cater didn't know himself.

—

Cater normally loved helping Trey bake for Unbirthday Parties. His boyfriend always seemed to be in his element and it was adorable, but this time, his mind kept wandering. Every time he tried to just think about the now, a thought of Jade popped up. Was he just anxious every time? Was he always just good at hiding his emotions? Cater even started to look around for him and noticed the same traits every time Jade talked to someone or was in a crowded space.

He looked up from the bowl he was helping mix. “So, uh… Is Jade good?”

Trey quickly looked up from taking the previous batch of cupcakes out of the oven. “Last I checked he was fine, yes. Why? Did something happen?”

“Oh! No, nothing happened. I just noticed that he kinda seems constantly anxious.”

Trey’s worried face instantly changed to one of amusement as he tried to hold in a laugh. “Oh, he's fine. He's just… not good with people. You need to learn to start with context, Cater.”

“Hey! I was only worried. We bumped into each other and I noticed stuff there. It was weird seeing the famed Jade Leech as someone who's simply anxious.”

“Seeing him as Jade and not Jade Leech?”

“Yeah, pretty much that tbh. His gaze seemed soft. It felt weird.”

Trey paused what he was doing for a second, looked Cater’s face up and down, then turned back to his cooling cupcakes. “For someone who can read others so well, neither of you can read yourselves.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Don't think about it.”

“Wha-? Trey!” With every pout, Trey only told him it meant nothing.

—

Wow… Sam’s shop prices were definitely cheaper than expected, at least to Cater. He was so used to going to all those popular pop-up restaurants with sky-high prices that when he counted out the money Trey gave him to see what ingredients were the best to go for, he realized he could get the better-end items for his whole list.

Cater was even more shocked that the school store had the whole list. Strawberries. Blueberries. Heavy cream. Flour. Sugar. How did Trey JUST realize he was he was running low on all of this?

Next and last was cinnamon. He turned the corner only to find Jade looking at some spices and carrying his own basket of baking supplies. Was Monstro Lounge going to offer baked treats? There's no other likely reason. Right?

Seeing Jade made Cater’s heart jump. “Hey, Jade!” He gave his usual high-energy smile as he quickly walked closer. The closer he got, the more noticed Jade leaning away. He didn't know why, but Jade leaning away stung his heart a bit. Cater just stopped walking forward.

“Hello, Diamond.” Jade stood up, placed the baking powder in his own basket, and tried his best to return to his proper posture. But after what happened before, it wasn't hard for Cater to notice the signs of anxiety.

“What are you up to? Monstro Lounge going to make some new sweet treats? You should 100% let me see them. I bet they'll be totes cammable.” Cater tried taking a deep breath. Trey mentioned him being good at reading people, so maybe he was picking up on the fake smile vibes? Just a natural smile, that’ll lighten the mood.

Cater checked Jade’s reaction and he seemed to calm down slightly. He stopped leaning away, his posture looked less stiff, and maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but it seemed like whenever Jade looked at his smile, a slight pink dusted across his cheeks.

“No, Monstro Lounge has no intention of offering sweets yet, though I may suggest that to Azul. Trey told me he just noticed he was running low on some ingredients, so I was getting him some.”

“Wait really?” Cater looked between his basket and Jade’s. They had only sugar in common, the rest of them were completely different supplies, just from the same isles. Did their kitchen really need a full restock? What's with the two separate lists? “Trey told me the same thing.” Cater lifted his basket, showing off his own ingredients.

“How does one notice they are suddenly running low on so many ingredients at once? When was the last time your dorm bought stuff for your Unbirthday Parties?”

“We stock up regularly enough. I didn't notice we were running low on so much stuff. I just thought Trey knew better than I did with how much he’s in the kitchen.” Were they truly running out of this much stuff? Was Trey planning something big? Did Riddle agree to whatever Trey was planning, if he truly did have a plan?

Jade sighed. “What is that man doing?”

“I never know what's in his head.” Cater gave a light chuckle “You want to check out with me? We can both head to Heartslabyul together if you want, or I can just carry it all back.”

The faint pink that Cater thought he saw on Jade earlier, but came back definitely noticeable this time. It came back when he mentioned going to his Heartslabyul together. What? Was he flustered about seeing Trey while he was doing whatever he was trying to do? He seemed a bit lost in thought.

“Whatever he’s doing, it’s probably not something he would be upset we caught him on.”

Jade snapped back to reality. “Oh! Yeah, he probably wouldn't.”

“Come on.” Cater grabbed Jade’s basket and started walking to the check-out. “Let’s check out then grill Trey.”

Jade slowly tagged behind. A very slight smile on his lips and his cheeks ever so slightly pinker.

—

Cater thoughts continued to roam despite the homework splayed out on his desk. Apparently, Trey had gotten Riddle to agree to some sweet treats for the dorm before upcoming tests.

While it was nice, it was all a bit unusual too. This is the first time Trey had ever mentioned even wanting to do something like this, and going straight to Riddle with no mention of it before to anyone else was a first for him. Not only that, only Cater and Jade were sent for ingredients. One single student from his dorm and one student from a separate dorm.

What? Was Trey using his boyfriend privileges to get free work from Jade? Couldn't he use his Vice Housewarden privileges to send more people from Heartslaybul? What is Trey doing?

Only him and Jade? Now that thought of it, Trey always seemed to look between the two of them whenever they bumped into each other, even if it was only just for a second. On top of that, after he mentioned he felt weird after he mentioned feeling weird after bumping into Jade that once, Trey looked at him funny, then said Cater can't read himself.

What’s up with Trey? If Cater wasn't crazy here, he felt there was some pattern. Only the two of them… Looking between them… Feeling weird around-

Cater has a crush on Jade and Trey instantly caught it and tried to set them up together.

He felt heat rise to his cheeks as he jolted up from his chair. Trey, that traitor! Trey-tor! Cater immediately started speed-walking out of his room and to the kitchen. There is no way he's letting Trey get away with this.

He didn't even know what he was going to do if his boyfriend wasn't in the kitchen. He was just hoping the ever-present want to bake would work in his favor. He was supposed to be making the sweets for their dormmates anyway. After the corner, he found sweets did work in his favor for once.

“You!” Cater pointed at Trey who stopped in his tracks.

“Cater! Do you want to give me a heart attack?!” Trey set the oven timer and oven mitts down roughly, as roughly as he could without breaking the timer, then turned to face him.

He stomped right up to his boyfriend. “I want revenge! You noticed my developing crush, somehow before I myself did, then tried to set me up with him! Absolute Trey-tor!”

Trey just doubled over in laughter, only getting words out in between laughs and gasps for breath. “Again, you need to learn to start with context. You can't just jumpscare me.” He stood up straight again, barely keeping in a few residual laughs. “But I have no clue what you even mean. Why would I set you two up? How would I even notice your crush? It’s not like your cheeks flush whenever he talks to you or like you look around whenever you’re in an area he’s likely to be in too, or even like you've been bringing him up more and more. No, I would never be able to tell.”

Trey's smirk as he leaned onto a countertop top only made Cater’s face feel hotter and hotter. He couldn't even say what emotion he was feeling. He just tried to show some part of that wasn't happy.

“Aw, you can pout somewhere out of my kitchen if you're not going to help. I have a lot of baking to do still.” Trey turned Cater to face the entrance and pushed him towards it. “But if you two were to date, with your crush that no one ever knew of before now, that would be nice.”

Cater opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He could only stomp back to his room.

—

It’s been a while since Cater’s realization, and maybe Trey was right. His crush was kinda obvi. Even right now, he was looking around since there was even a slight chance he could have bumped into Jade. Could you blame him? He did it with Trey before they started dating too. Is it sad? Probably. But he can't help it. They didn’t interact much during the school day, and Cater just wanted to interact more.

Jade was probably somewhere here in this courtyard around this time of day. All he had to do was look… And there he is! Sitting on a bench and what looks like copying something off his phone onto some notebook. He looked completely peaceful.

Cater makes his way to Jade, keeping his pace nice and peaceful. Hopefully keeping his pace slow might slow his heart too. “Sup Jade?”

Apparently, he was too absorbed in whatever he was doing because when Cater’s voice came out, he practically jumped and his face became absorbed in pink. “Hello, Ca-Diamond. How are you?”

“You can call me Cater, no worries. And, I'm good. What are you up to?” Cater couldn't tell how he scared Jade so badly that he couldn't get Jade couldn't gather himself and was practically dunked in pink paint, but he must have. He couldn't see another reason for any of it. He could at least try and act calmly.

“Oh!” He turned back to his notebook which had a mostly finished drawing of some mushroom, a copy of the mushrooms shown on his phone. “I was drawing a Common Ink Cap Mushroom. It’s also known as an inky cap, tipper’s bane, or even scientifically, Coprinopsis atramentaria. It starts off as bell-shaped, but flattens as it disintegrates. As they disintegrate, they also make a black liquid that can be easily used to make ink. You can also eat the mushrooms as long as you aren't eating any alcohol with them.”

Cater couldn't help but continue to listen and hum some acknowledgments as Jade rambled on and on about these mushrooms. He seemed so interested and happy to talk about them. His focus was solely on the mushrooms.

While Cater made an effort to listen, it was all interesting facts, Cater’s focus remained mostly on Jade’s face. His whole face was lit up by his smile. The corners of his eyes were crinkled up on following his mouth. All of his sharp features seem to only reflect the light of his smile. And while the pink on his face seemed to have died down, some of it still dusted his cheeks. It all made Cater’s heart melt.

Cater immediately started wondering how he could hear him all the time, and as expected, one thought came up. “Do you have a Magicam or something? I bet so many people would love to listen to and learn all of this. I could follow you.” The instant those words left his mouth he regretted them. Did it seem like he was taking attention away from Jade? Why would anyone else have his Magicam addiction? Did that make Jade hate him? Ugh!

Jade’s pink grew back to the same level as when he first shocked him and he gave no response. Yup, he totally hated Cater now. Sure, he had a smile, but how he got just jumped with Cater’s addiction, that was probably nothing more than an awkward smile before letting him down gently.

“Of course, you don't have to make one or let me follow you! It’s good either way.” Cater tried to laugh it all off. Oh, this was so stupid.

Lucky for him, Jade snapped back to reality at his words, at least enough to respond while clumsily tapping on his phone. “I actually do have one, I just don't post to it much. You can follow me though, and I could try posting more. That would be fun.” He brought up a Magicam account with the user ‘MountainEel’. “The account isn't all mushrooms. There are some plants and animals, but it's mostly mushrooms.”

Cater quickly brought up his phone to search for the account. It only took a few seconds to find, but with how his heart was racing it felt like ages. He finally found it and hit the follow button. He swore his heart was seconds from stopping. Cater looked up to see Jade give him another smile. Yup, he's dead. He could barely collect himself to smile back and watch Jade’s pink face deepen in color.

—

“Unfair! Just totes unfair! Why did you get him first?” Cater had been whining into the corner of Trey’s neck for a good few minutes now. It had all started when they wanted to spend time cozy with each other by cuddling in bed, but cuddle time was disrupted by a notification Jade had posted, a daily thing since Cater followed. Trey teased him for how he instantly went to check the post causing Cater to bury his face in between his boyfriend's shoulder and neck, who only responded with a sigh and started playing with Cater’s hair.

“It’s far from unfair. I simply got to know him first.”

“Unfair! That was because you just had the chance to get to know him first. If I had that chance, I woulda done it too!”

“You still can. There's nothing blocking you from talking to him. Just hang out for a bit and try to be friends, it will evolve from there. No matter where it ends up, two of the people I love just getting along well would be nice.”

Cater removed his face from hiding to glare pouty daggers at Trey. “Easy for you to say! I was about to die when I ended up getting his Magicam. I almost died again every time I wait for his reply to my comments.”

“If he's posting more, he probably enjoys the comments and attention. He has been on his phone more.”

“Still doesn't stop my heart from racing.”

“Just let yourself hang out with him.” Trey thought about something before letting a fond smile grow. “You can also just look at him. If you can see past his initial barrier he can’t really hide anything.”

“I think I keep scaring him. He keeps getting all fidgety and can't compose himself while I'm around. He also blushes when he gets startled, which is cute.”

“He wha- Cater… Dear…” Trey sighed and cupped Cater’s face.

“What?”

“He doesn't- He’s not startled, well at least not only startled.”

“But I only see it when I say something out of the blue, like if I can walk with him or follow his account.”

Trey gave him a pitying look for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. “You’re lucky you’re cute. But, just hang out with him for a bit more. Try to learn his signs a bit more.” A playful smirk grew on his face. “You'll get plenty of chances to do that.”

“What does that mean? What’s with that smirk?”

Trey moved his hands from cupping Cater’s cheeks to covering his eyes “What smirk?”

—

‘Hang out’. ‘Why don't you just hang out?’ This is why! He was only walking through the halls while talking with Jade and it was taking all of his energy to not keel over.

What did Trey even mean by ‘learn his signs a bit more’? Cater was reading him pretty well, at least he thought he was. At minimum, he could tell Jade was happy when talking about his hikes, talking and listing about Trey, or listening to Cater talk about whatever he was caught up in at the moment.

“I did see a few beautiful birds on my last hike. Sadly, they flew away before I could get a picture, so I can't say their exact species.” Jade was standing tall, wearing a smile on his face, making the distance between himself and Cater ever so slightly smaller, and using his hands to gesture about the birds. See? Cater could read him. That's a happy eel.

“What did they look like?”

“They were small and ground songbirds. They looked to be some kind of finch.” His smile only grew as he continued to ramble on and on about the birds he saw, along with any animal, interesting plant, or cool fungus that crossed his path.

His smile only continued to grow. Every gesture he made fit exactly what he said. He leaned slightly towards Cater when he couldn't walk closer.

Cater just wanted to fawn over him. “You really are adorable.” It wasn't until his words hit his ears, that he even realized he said something.

Jade’s attention snapped right to Cater as he stopped walking and his face flushed. “Excuse me?”

“I- uh- I just-” Cater’s heart and mind were racing. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Who just blindsides someone like that, especially someone who probably gets a heart attack with how much you spook them? But mostly, why would you ever tell that to someone who would never love you back?

Cater wanted to die on the spot, but he couldn't so he did the next best thing. He pushed past Jade and ran away. He heard Jade call his name behind him, but he only darted to his room.

—

Cater spent the past day or two in his room or hiding from Jade. When class was out he took the most roundabout way to get to the next one, making sure it changed almost every day so no one could wise up and tell Jade. The second school was out for the day he went right to his room and didn't go out. Trey and his clubmates kept bombarding him with texts.

Cater can't do anything right can he? First, he accidentally half-admits his crush. Then he does what anyone else would call an overreaction. Finally, he made everyone worry about him wallowing in self-pity over a crush. He even noticed Jade hadn't posted since he ran, probably a bit awkward to post with him constantly lurking.

So why was he here? He was out in the open sitting on the same bench he found Jade on while sketching those mushrooms. Ink caps, right? Trey had texted him and told him to be here for a surprise. Trey practically demanded he come. Yet he's been here for about ten minutes and hasn't heard from Trey once.

He accepted his fate to just sit there in silence for the foreseeable future until he heard a loud voice.

“Nuh-uh! You’re going!” It was Floyd Leech holding his brother in a headlock and dragging him in the same direction as Cater. That can't be comfortable.

Jade continued to try and futilely push against Floyd while complaining. “I said I’m fine just sitting in my room!”

“Nope! He said he needed you here.”

“Who?!” Someone needed Jade here but didn't tell Jade himself? Who tells someone to forcibly drag their brother somewhere without telling the brother first?

Floyd noticed Cater and finally let Jade go, pushing him in Cater’s direction. “Bench.”

Jade looked up and at the bench, making eye contact with Cater, and Cater instantly knew who forced Jade out. The same man who force him out as well. The Trey-tor.

Jade stood stalk still only for Floyd to push him again. “Bench!”

Cater turned his face away when Jade slowly started walking closer with Floyd grumbling and walking away from both of them. What felt like after waiting ages, Jade sat down next to him. They both just sat there silently for another long while. Cater wanted to die.

“You ran away.” Jade spoke up out of nowhere. When Cater looked over at him he was curled up, his feet on the bench and his face slightly hidden in his knees. His eyes had even started to tear up.

“I- uh-” Cater didn't know what to say. He did run. They were having a nice time. He complimented Jade. Then he ran. That must have turned any compliment straight into an insult.

“I thought we were getting along. Then you said something that made me feel so, so happy, then you ran away.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, don't be. I got my hopes up for our relationship because I couldn't help my own feelings.” Jade gave a sigh and placed his feet back on the ground.

“You're feelings?” Feelings? Cater thought he might have known what that meant, and it made his heart jump. No, he shouldn't get his hopes u-

“I’ve liked you for a while now.”

“You what?”

“Ever since I saw you genuinely smile and laugh when we bumped into each other while shopping. When you said I was adorable I thought for a second you might have returned my feelings, but then you ran away and I didn't know what to think. Now I guess I just think I got my hopes too high.”

Cater was speechless. Jade liked him? Jade liked him! Wait, wasn't that when the blushing started? Oh! That's probably what Trey meant.

“I know I probably sound stupid here, but I couldn't help letting my em-”

“-I like you too!” Cater let everything just come out. “My crush started probably around the time we bumped into each other in the hall. Random seeming time, I know. I just convinced myself you wouldn't like me back, so I tried to keep it to myself. When I accidentally let my feelings slip I got so flustered and embarrassed I only thought to run.”

“Why would you think I wouldn't like you?”

“When we first met you were always anxious and guarded when I came around, so I just assumed you hated me. Well, that and I suc-”

“-Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Jade glared daggers at Cater. His face then quickly morphed into a pout. “You were the exact same with me. When we first met, you always had a strained smile around me. I didn't know what you were thinking under the fake smile, and I might have gotten scared…”

Cater let a laugh bubble up. “So we scared each other by trying to fake pleasantries and only tried harder after getting scared?”

Jade's face instantly melted into one of joy as he brought one hand to cup Cater’s cheeks. “With how your genuine smile and laugh are what caused me to develop a crush, I probably would have fallen for you instantly if I had seen that first.” Before Cater’s mind gathered what Jade said, he had wrapped Cater into a tight and comforting hug.

Cater moved to rub Jade’s back. “If you had fallen earlier, would it have been any better? With what Trey said of you, I doubt you would have done more than silently pine.”

Jade jumped out of the hug with a playful gasp. “Excuse you? I am amazing at bringing myself to confess. Also, what are you and Trey doing together? Slandering me?”

“Oh really? Who confessed to who with you and Trey? Also, it’s not slander if it's factual, btw.”

“Trey is irrelevant. I confessed to you.”

“What? No! I confessed. That’s what got us here.”

“Yes, because calling someone adorable and then running away is confessing.”

“Shut it!” Cater could feel his cheeks flush. The color only got worse when Jade started to genuinely laugh. It sounded perfect. This whole scene was perfect. Jade was perfect.

Cater moved his hands to Jade’s cheek, mimicking what Jade had done before. He gave Jade a small genuine smile, causing the other’s cheeks to regain some of that pink Cater couldn't help but love.

“What are you up to now?”

“Can I kiss you?”

The small amounts of color on Jade’s face immediately turned to vibrantly cover it. Jade stared at Cater for a quick second, looking between him and his lips. Finally, he gave a nod.

Cater didn't waste another second before pulling him into a kiss. It was clumsy and didn't last for more than a few seconds, but it felt wonderful.

Once Cater pulled away, Jade immediately melted into a puddle. He leaned on Cater as if he had no bones in his body, and hid his face in the crook of Cater’s neck.

Cater couldn't help but laugh. “Are you hiding?” He only got a huff in response. “Mister big strong ‘I-confessed-you-first’ can't handle a kiss? Are you sure you even could withstand confessing? I think my argument is proven.”

That earned Cater a bigger response, a pinch on his cheek and a pout.

“Alright, ow, got the message.”

From behind them, they heard Trey’s voice suddenly appearing, nearly giving Cater a heart attack. “So I assume all went well?”

“Trey! Don't sneak up on people!” Cater turned to see Trey. He had a small basket with what looked like freshly baked bread. It smelled delicious.

“Sorry! Sorry. I didn't know you didn't hear me, though I probably should have guessed based on how you looked.” Of course Trey would instantly go to teasing them. Jade immediately poked his head out of his hiding spot and gave Trey a pouty look.

Wait, Cater had forgotten in all this mess but Trey was the one who set them up. How dare he? “Oh, wait! I'm mad at you. You set us up with all your tricks.”

Jade gave a nod in agreement. “How could you? Such tricks on your own boyfriends.”

“Fine, sure, I did. But I know both of you. Nothing would have come of it otherwise. Though, as recompense, we can all eat this pumpkin bread together.”

“Should we, Cater? If anything, I think we deserve more. Like some cuddles.” Jade gave such a saccharine and fake innocent face before leaning on Cater.

“Fine, fine. You'll get what you want, but we should probably eat where there's more space.”

Jade and Cater both got up to walk with Trey to Heartslabyul. Jade tried to steal a piece of the bread multiple times, and Trey moved it away every time. Jade immediately pouted and leaned on Cater, calling Trey mean. And, as silly or weird as the scene may have looked, Cater found it perfect.

[blackstarchanx3new]

On a scale of 1-10 how much do you dislike the canon manga Red?

This turned into a rant lmfao.

Gotta make Red simps hate me more than they already do X'D

Like a 5 at least.

The problem mainly boils down to how I perceive him due to MY OWN PERSONAL READING OF THE TEXT.

So, the start: I'm not a fan of those types of "i'm so cute teehee" characters to begin with but for Red specifically...I just hate how inconsistent and poorly utilized he is.

He just morphs to be whatever the narrative needs him to be instead of having a real character.

He's a plot device more than a character tbh and it's why I struggled SO MUCH with figuring out a direction for him in FSR.

because...all the plot is character driven.

And I literally had no USE for a character who's soul purpose was filling in gaps when there weren't any with this cast.

His behavior isn't ever fully dived into like the other three.

I've mentioned this before: I think they cut a stand alone Red Chapter somewhere in development because the way his scene ends to where we see him later after they split up is SO WEIRD.

Funnily enough I find Dark Link and Red very similar. (Which is a huge problem but I'll get into that some other time)

Except Dark Link's inconsistencies and overall character loops back to his creation and he himself being a conflict of interest in Vaati's mind when he created Dark. he WANTED HIS Link back the only person he felt a connection to who he last had on good terms with, paired with wanting to HURT and destroy the current incarnation of Link.

making a twisted as hell individual who simultaneously embodies Link and is Link's twisted mirror image.

Naive uncertain and full of inner turmoil due to his purpose.

But when Dark REALIZES what he is to the truest extent he has to justify or crumble under the weight of his reality. There's a reason i described early Dark link as "Delusional" because he was.

Red just...doesn't have any of that kind of retrospection or intrigue in cannon.

Dark's innocence comes from his naivete but where the fuck does it come from with Red? (and it's proven to be fake anyway because he's the first one to stab someone who they think is their knight friends buuuuuut-)

Red's just canonically a contradiction with no real point and it's never pointed out in the narrative so like...it's just weird and kinda unnerving.

Like I pointed out, he literally acts like Lil Gideon before the reveal he's a crazy maniac.

Except we never GET the reveal for Red.

Red doesn't have any flaws that aren't him playing up his baby persona and fucking shit up for the others. He's just stupid af sometimes and helpful others without much rhyme or reason.

...Again I've said this before but if he was smart in areas Vio was dumb in (liKE IF THE DIRECTIONS THING WAS MORE OBVIOUSLY A CANNON THING IDK IF VIO BEING DICK WITH DIRECTIONS WAS JUST SMTH THEY ACCIDENTILY REPEATED A FEW TIMES OR A REAL INTENTIONAL TRAIT OF HIS) it could have been a fun dynamic but Vio and Red barely interact.

Honestly most of the dynamics I find myself WANTING with Red revolve around Vio...

And, imo his persona is blatantly fake from how often he just...drops it when the plot requires him to or when...idk it's just not NEEDED?

Him not shedding a TEAR when Shadow dies continues to creep me out.

because everything we know about Red tells us he should at least LOOK sat but he just...isn't.

And you can't be like "Oh but Shadow was their enemy"

bLUE GOT HIS ASS KICKED BY THIS ASSHOLE SO MANY TIMES AND HE LOOKS SAD. WHY DOESN'T RED WHO CRIES OVER KILLING ROCK MONSTERS IT'S CREEPYYYYYY.

Like no, I didn't want Red to dramatically burst into tears and ruin the moment, but dude didn't even look SAD.

Didn't look sad a dude with his face DIED.

Burned Blue's ass after JUST CRYING about him being DEAD and just WALKED AWAY.

Like if he had any depth to him this shit would be dived into but he's as shallow as a puddle and I dislike it strongly.

Like if ANY of this shit was even addressed in the manga I'd like him WAY MORE.

but it feels UNINENTIONAL which is the issue I have with Red as a character.

Long as hell walk to say:

I don't wanna spoil stuff but I do think you could have fresh ideas with Red being VERY DIFFRENT from link but my main issue with him in the actual cannon manga is:

He doesn't feel realistically like a part of Link due to my interpretation of the text and it's storytelling, and the WAY the text WANTS portrays him doesn't line up with his actions, and I don't like it.

[xviistrings]

Okay, okay this is gonna sound insane but please just tell me anything about Kaneshiro as I need *something* for him. I cannot write for this man to save my life and i desperately need more than canon has for him and I feel like youre a good person to ask considering the whole roleswap rulers au

i totally get where you're coming from because i've struggled with characterizing him as well. he's lowkey just the money money money man but i'll share my notes for your homework

tbh kaneshiro and okumura are pretty similar to me, except okumura craves glory, and kaneshiro craves luxury.

kaneshiro's whole obsession with wealth comes from being born poor, where he learned to fend for himself and spare no one. being selfless is a bad thing in his eyes, because you gain nothing from it, and only lose. so to prevent ever during such suffering again, he starts taking from others.

the victims of his scams are primarily young people, and he looks down on that group because he sees them as naive and gullible and easy to manipulate. a part of my personal interpretation is that he might see a part of himself in that youthful innocence and maybe just maybe feel a little bad but no, it's their fault for being so oblivious, they had what was coming to them!

sounds like you're speaking from experience my guy

his philosophy and how he developed it is the easy part for me to write. but his personality is. um. hm

usually he acts very intimidating and sophisticated, like how you would expect a crime lord to act. but once he transforms into a fly for the boss fight, you could say he starts... well...

"acting fly".

funnily enough that type of behaviour is associated with younger people, and since boss forms are like. their truest form i guess since even their normal shadows act a little guarded, that could indicate that he's still childish no matter how mature he makes himself out to be.

he's obviously insecure, what with the whole "i'm weak if i even dare show mercy", and it's clear that he's so afraid of falling into poverty again that he overcompensates by being this filthy rich.

kaneshiro probably wouldn't have turned out this way if he had a wealthier upbringing but like the other palace rulers, like our main cast, he is a victim of the system.

if you care, rulerswap!junya is a little different to kaneshiro but still has the same beats, with the poor background and the tough shell protecting a paranoid, pathetic child. however, instead of going down the dark path of giving into rules he hates so much, he decides to advocate for those suffering like him and stops basing his self worth on his net worth. haha

reading into palace rulers is always a little difficult since they don't have a lot to show but i manage, and i hope something i pulled out of this helped!?!? yeah

[captain-astors]

Tooru for the blorbo ask game???

A blorbo in the truest sense!

Ranting under the cut!

(For the record I mark the "just like you fr" square because we share a lot of physical similarities and a couple other details, I don't share most of his personality traits.)

He's like a weird comfort character thing to me? And yet I'm not nearly confident in my own interpretation.

I've seen it said he's badly written past shirazu's demise and I can't say I entirely disagree, but at the same time his history and trans-ness is so important to me that I can't really fathom changing him at this point. He's kind of in the same basket as Takizawa? Introduced as a nice friendly guy, (albeit flawed but in a human way that can be improved upon) who then gets bucketloads of trauma dumped on his head and becomes a seemingly unsavable villain only to kind of get redeemed?... and ultimately written off and moved far far away from Kaneki's happily ever after in the epilogue with no true resolution of their own. Why does that always happen to my favorites also they're both transmasc I will continue to spread my trans Seidou agenda until the end of time. Would definitely shift the narrative to respect his identity more if I could, but simultaneously his self-doubt is another comfort. I WISH I could make it so that no one would ever again point to his use of pronouns and femininity as a form of self-deprecation in his lowest moments, and go "See! He sees himself as a girl! When he calls himself a woman that's a good thing and a sign that he's healing from the evil trans disease, don't worry about how it's happening at the same time as he breaks down-"

I couldn't fix him and he isn't fixing me but he is VERY cathartic. One of those characters that I like to read fics about and draw going through the ringer when I'm feeling down.

[whumpsday]

i'm gonna talk about my very first ocs because i feel like they deserve it :) when i was a kid i didn't quite have the imagination yet to create whole worlds, so my ocs were often inserts into existing things i was into.

this is a very long post with a lot of useless personal information, and is more a diary entry than anything.

i had many more ocs than what's listed here, but i can't remember most of them, so here are just the ones i remember.

childhood:

at 7, the very first oc i can ever remember making was Maya, a pokemon oc. she was the fourth member of team rocket in the anime canon, and could shapeshift between being a human and a celebi. i remember her being "older" but that could mean anything from a middle schooler to an adult.

also pokemon-related but not quite an oc, i had a lot of fakemon around that time. the only one i remember was a raccoon-like one named Tyco.

at 9, soon after was Tanya, a fairly oddparents oc. she was a little girl who was friends with the main character.

at 10, i really got into oc-making, and the next bunch are all from when i was about 10.

i started getting into "somewhat whumpier" things and made my first "edgy" oc, Deepheart, for warrior cats. she was a black cat with purple eyes and a tragic backstory i can't remember, who eventually got with stormfur.

i was very into danny phantom and continued my tragic backstory experiments with Chelsea. she was a ghost and the younger sister of ember (she was basically an ember recolor) who died in the same fire. she also had fire+music powers, but a polar opposite personality to ember (she was nice).

i can't remember the specifics or names of the ocs i made for a bunch of these, but i also made oc-inserts for the following around this time:

total drama island - multiple ocs, i think i had a whole fancast, which was the closest i got around this time to making an original story.

monster buster club - character existed to be friends with chris, who was my favorite. she was a monster in disguise or something of that nature.

percy jackson - i definitely had one and i was REALLY into it, but can't even remember what god she was a daughter of.

in middle school as i entered early teenhood, i started reading YA books. sadly, my taste was not that great.

preteen:

at 12, i made Chelsea (reused the name from the danny phantom oc because i just rly liked the name), a twilight oc. she was the first vampire oc i ever made, so i guess she was the start of All This. she was the youngest cullen at 14 years old (i do not remember if this was a chronological age or just a physical age and i think i was too oblivious to realize just how significant that difference was), and had a Forbidden Romance with seth, the werewolf kid.

at 13, i realized i could have ocs that were boys! a fantastic revelation! technically i already had ones from the total drama fanseason i had in my head but they were all side characters. made my first main guy, Oliver, a scott pilgrim oc and ramona's 8th ex-boyfriend.

i made a LOT of other ocs for YA books in middle school, but i don't remember much about the others.

teenhood - homestuck:

at 15, i got into homestuck, and that was when things got out of control.

i started with a literal self-insert with my birthname, who eventually got split into 2 alt-timeline versions of herself (i was a girl at the time), one who went with dave and rose during the timeskip and one who went with john and jade during the timeskip. when they met back up, they fell in love and got together, which i think might be the truest expression of self-love i've ever had.

but it didn't end there. i got really into making fantrolls, and made TONS of them. i don't remember their names very well (esp bc they were all made up alien names) but i remember my favorites: a bronzeblood with an eyepatch whose name started with a P, and a violetblood whose name started with an I.

the violetblood was probably my first true whumpee. while violetbloods are normally amphibious, he was born with lungs that don't work, and was forced to remain underwater at all times since he could only use his gills. when sgrub caused the apocalypse, he had a little tank he would stay in on the ship. and when gamzee started killing everyone, he couldn't get away.

this was also where i branched out into creating original characters not tied to an existing IP!!! FINALLY!!! it all started with fantrolls. i made two more significant sets of fantrolls: one centering around an abnormally overpowered purpleblood who had his memory erased and used to be a cruel whumper-type (and a set of supporting characters to go with him), and one centering around a purpleblood who'd been tortured and the lowblood who acted as his caretaker. you can tell i was very much getting into whump at this point, despite not yet knowing the term.

i eventually decided that homestuck's lore was not equipped to carry the stories i wanted to tell for those two, and split them each off into original universes. i am not into homestuck anymore and it's really a relic of its time, but it impacted me quite a lot creatively.

teenhood - original stories:

the amnesia guy came to be named Nova, my first wholly-original character. he existed in a magic/fantasy type universe, and was the most powerful magic-user in his world. he'd previously been extremely evil and caused untold carnage, countless people tortured to death. the heroes, after realizing they could not stop him, decided to try to wipe his memory instead. this did, in fact, work. Nova became a character saddled by EXTREME ANGST about his past wrongs. to make it worse, his pre-memory-wipe evil self eventually started to slowly come back as a separate entity in his mind, essentially haunting him. i daydreamed about Nova for a long, long time, and occasionally still do.

the whumpee-caretaker duo became Dwar and Clobu, members of an original alien species i came up with. unlike Nova's story, which became so divorced from his fantroll beginnings that his origin was basically unrecognizable, this one remained heavily homestuck-inspired. the aliens here were grouped/inspired by the layers of the atmosphere, rather than the signs of the zodiac. Dwar (the whumpee) had skin that looked like the night sky, dark blue with stars all over, while Clobu (the caretaker) looked like a cloudy day. they were pretty :) these guys are a very very early inspiration for the Kane & Jim dynamic.

i also started making non-IP-related ocs without "converting" them around this time. in particular, i became very interested in demons.

first i made Charlie, a teenage demon raised by humans who just wanted to be A Normal Kid. he played the guitar and used tumblr and was all in all very nonthreatening and normal. he was a bit boring.

at about 16, i later made Nicky, a "redo" of the Charlie concept but with more pizzazz. his mother had brought him on a hunt (for humans to kill and eat) while he was an infant, and she was killed by a demon hunter. the hunter couldn't bring herself to kill the baby, so she took him in and raised him instead. Nicky's story is very very long, because he is the only oc from my childhood i still regularly daydream about to this day, and i have been building him up for a decade. some highlights:

accidentally burns his adoptive mom when he's a little boy who's just gotten his fire powers, and it's what makes him realize he never wants to hurt people. she forever has a scar shaped like his tiny little 5-year-old hand.

demons generally need to eat human flesh to be healthy. this is obviously not something Nicky wants to do or even feasibly can do when he's younger. he eats a lot of other meat (mainly pork), and is basically constantly hungry. he carries jerky around with him all the time to snack on.

as a young adult, he and his (human) best friend (mutual pining crush) are stuck in a cave (entrance blocked by rocks) with a bunch of demons waiting to kill them when they leave. Nicky knows he's not strong enough to defeat them, but he could be if he wasn't malnourished. in a moment of desperation, his friend ends up giving him a few fingers to eat so they can make it out alive, and he feels guilty forever that it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

his mom is killed by demons in a fight in his early 20s, and he goes on a ballistic rampage murdering everyone in sight. after this, he runs away and ends up moving to hell.

when he's in his 40s, he sees a little human girl who's been captured and brought to hell, and quickly rescues her. he can't find a way to smuggle her back to earth, so he ends up raising her in his apartment.

when he does eventually get her back to earth years later, he moves in with her dad and they co-parent. becomes a love triangle thing with the dad and his childhood friend who he eventually reconnects with- not for the usual "you have to choose one!" reasons that i hate, but because his relationships with each are honestly very tumultuous.

my other early demon oc was Crimson, a magicless demon who'd been captured by hunters and tortured until a kind hunter rescued him and became his caretaker. this character would later become Kane, but originally there was no "former whumper" backstory, he was just a pathetic little guy.

at 16, my other main obsession as a teenager was dangan ronpa, and of course i made several dangan ronpa ocs whose names i can't remember. one of them was a girl who had a fierce rivalry with togami. i started getting into g/t around this time, and liked to play around with that with my dangan ronpa oc for some reason. i don't know why, it's not like DR had any kind of g/t in it. but i would always imagine a story where togami became tiny and he and my oc came to a begrudging alliance as they tried to fix it.

i also ended up converting this into an original story, taking place in a low-fantasy universe, where a bully character Damien got shrunk by magic, kept in a jar, and was tortured by some of his former victims. his one victim who thinks this is fucked up (can't remember his name) rescued him, and they put aside their differences to fix it. i just love reluctant caretakers and whumper-turned-whumpees.

and that's all the notable ocs i can think of from my childhood! figure they deserve at least a small space on my blog :) and i still might write Nova, Nicky, or Damien's stories someday.

[capn-twitchery]

wanted to immortalise @the-clay-quarters tags bc it's the truest thing i've ever read

they're like a silly fun little guy of a looney tunes character, unless you think about them for too long, and then they're suddenly the most devastating fucking oc i have ever made