#with context that i didn't bother providing here

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Tom Hanniger Prompt Response

Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language

Word Count: 18k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive. 

How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?

You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.

When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.

He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth. 

“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”

Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”

You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”

Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.

He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.

When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.

Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.

As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.   

“Something wrong?” 

The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”

“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.

“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”

He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”

“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.

“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”

You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.

Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.

You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.

Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in. 

You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”

You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”

Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you. 

Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.

He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.

You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?

“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”

You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool. 

You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”

Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you. 

“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.

A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”

You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand. 

Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”

Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”

“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”

“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump. 

Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.

But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.  

“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern. 

“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.

You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”

“I really want to,” you cried.

He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.

“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”  

You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.

The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing. 

You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.

Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”

You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him. 

His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen. 

Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.

“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food. 

Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you. 

“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”

His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.

Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.  

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.

You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.

When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”

You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.

You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.

Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping. 

“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”

You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table. 

“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”

You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”

Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.

He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.

Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to. 

“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together. 

“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”

Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.

He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”

“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”

You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.” 

Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”

“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”

“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”

“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”

He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”

That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth.  “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”

“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”

Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response. 

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”

You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.

That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him. 

You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath. 

You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.

Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer. 

You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.

You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.

You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.

Miles, though, was fair game. 

He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.

Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”

“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”

He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.

You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag. 

At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.

He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.     

“You feeling a little better?”

You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”

He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you. 

After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”

You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.

He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows. 

You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”

Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”

It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them. 

He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”

You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.

He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back. 

“And Tom?” 

He glanced over at you. 

You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”

He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”

You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”

He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.

Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon. 

Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.

Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry. 

For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed. 

You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether. 

It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”

“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot. 

“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.” 

“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture. 

He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”

Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction. 

Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter. 

“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”

Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.

“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”

You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page. 

“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed. 

“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.

You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room. 

Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”

You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”

Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.

When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.  

You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”

You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.

He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”

Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”

Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”

“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you. 

You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”

You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand. 

He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.

“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”

You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words. 

You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.

Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.

A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.

Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer. 

You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?

You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right. 

“Tom!” You screamed. 

You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand. 

You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.

He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting. 

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though. 

He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”

Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.

His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be. 

Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side. 

“Y-You promised,” you forced out.

“I did.”

“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.

His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch. 

“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”

His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”

His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally? 

“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”

“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”

His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”

You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold. 

He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”

“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You need to stay calm for the baby.”

You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths. 

“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”

You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.

“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. 

“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”

“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.

He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.

He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”

You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.

“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”

The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity. 

You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room. 

You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.

You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen. 

Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks. 

It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”

Tom turned a confused expression onto you. 

“When he threatened me.”

His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”

“What makes sense?”

He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”

“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered. 

He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.

“Hey. Y/N.”

You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder. 

“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured. 

Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes. 

“Okay.” 

He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so. 

You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.

You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution. 

Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.

You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”

You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”

“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”

With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”

A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled. 

“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”

“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”

You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”

 “I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”

You shot him a look. 

“Open up or we’re going to report you!”

“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”

He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”

A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”    

You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.  

He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”

You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers. 

You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.  

She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it. 

You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.

Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.

Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.

Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.

“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”

“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”

Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”

You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.

Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.

You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going. 

Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead. 

“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.

Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly. 

“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.

“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”

You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”

“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.

Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”

You turned a stone cold expression on him. 

He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”

“But you’ve been with her?”

“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”

You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”

His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.” 

Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”

You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did. 

Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”

You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression. 

Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”

“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more. 

Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.

“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”

You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured. 

“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”

“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”

You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.

And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.

“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.” 

“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.

“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”

You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.

You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.   

The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face. 

“Hey, she alright, man?”

“You need me to call for an ambulance?”

“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”

He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”

‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky. 

He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”

Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”

He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!

“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”

You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe. 

“I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He turned an inquisitive gaze on you. 

“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that. 

He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”

“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.” 

He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”

“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born. 

“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”

“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”

He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”

“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”

His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”

You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”

Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?” 

You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”

He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”

Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.

He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line. 

At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.

He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember. 

And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?” 

You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”

He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”

Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.” 

“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”

Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.

“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.” 

“Oh.”

He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”

You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”

You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.

After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single. 

He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.

And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.

Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.

Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.  

So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.

He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.

While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now. 

You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.

Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby. 

Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.

He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one. 

He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.

You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.  

He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.

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[kikitakite]

@fantasyfictionfables

I was going to reblog some of your posts because I wanted to discuss your takes on Mystra, but then I found out you're a Christian conservative who hates gay people.

No gay person thinks their sexual orientation is their identity, but it's absolutely PART of their identity, just as being straight is part of yours. You can claim otherwise, but it determines who you might love and marry and that person will one day become a part of you and your identity. It's inevitable. As a wife and mother of three, you should know that better than anyone.

But people from groups like yours shame gay people for exploring that part of themselves and that's why Pride Month exists. Pride isn't "propaganda". It's about marginalized people showing the world they exist and they're not ashamed of it. Parades are also a great way for gay people to meet each other. My bestie met her wife at a march 15 years ago and they've been together ever since. It's beautiful. They have two happy, gorgeous children who wouldn't exist without Pride, because their moms never would've met.

Pride also raises money to help gay teens who've been cast out of their homes and gay refugees who've had to flee their country because being gay is illegal there. It also provides support for gay people who need medical help, therapy for abuse, suicide prevention and more. It's a safe space for people who are often discriminated against and even KILLED just for being who they are. So sorry that seems to bother you.

Your take isn't brave, it's just ignorant and hateful. You didn't have to write that post. Nothing provoked it. You just WANTED to to air your allegiances. And then you turned off comments and reblogs lmfao. For the majority of the year, gay people survive just like us straights. They go about their day and don't even mention being gay. You picked the one month in the entire year that's dedicated to them to complain about their existence and call them "deranged". And then you have the audacity to say you "bear no ill will" towards them? Bullshit.

I can only assume the word "pride" scares you because you're a Christian and it's a sin, am I right? Well here's something ironic: lust is also a sin, yet your entire blog not only consists of Gale thirst posts, but you're also stealing Tim Downie's voice to make audio clips using AI. Hmmm, I wonder if God would approve of a married woman posting NSFW content and using a man's voice for her hedonistic writings without his consent. 🤔

And by the way, as a veteran DnD player I can tell you right now that Mystra has done some absolutely VILE shit to her followers. She's not perfect. None of the gods in DnD are. They're flawed and often cruel. I've seen you compare Mystra and Gale to stories in the Bible, but that almost feels blasphemous. Mystra has a history of evil deeds. She orchestrated Elminster's rape, made sure he had kids and never told him about them. She turned Volo into an anchor without his knowledge. She tortured a peasant because he refused to sleep with her, then killed his wife and punished him for crying about it. And don't even get me started on the "daughters" she created. The third Mystra (who has Mystra and Mystryl's memories) is cruel to Gale as well and the game gives so much context for that. Plus ALL the companions agree she's unreasonable and tell Gale to reject her, and if he does it leads to one of his most satisfying endings. He's happy, he's a teacher, he marries tav and everyone approves. Your way of playing isn't the only right way and people aren't wrong for criticizing Mystra. There's plenty about her that deserves to be criticized, as is the case with every god in the pantheon.

Speaking of, I have nothing against Christians, but I do when they use their faith to shame people and act like total hypocrites.

[lemotmo]

I cropped the question for you on this one. But ugh the answer 💗

Q. What other canon plots do you hate, if you don't mind sharing? Also you've mentioned people who haven't watched the series in its entirety not really having valid opinions. You don't really think that do you? Their opinion on the current show should be just as valid. An opinion is an opinion. Everyone is allowed to view things differently.

A. Hi anon. It's a show that has run for 7 seasons, there's been several plots I haven't loved. In terms of plots I hate though, the easy go to one is the sperm donor plot (which I'm guessing you haven't seen). It had the potential to be interesting, but they just ended up doing nothing with it. And picking Buck specifically to be the donor definitely needed context the show just didn't bother providing. Buck is way too emotionally wired to father a child and then just never care to see or hear about that child again. I also absolutely hated the couple he donated to. I hated them. I thought the whole fight club thing with Eddie was not great. Technically with the way Eddie is wired it did make sense for him to a point, and again had potential, but again, it just kind of stopped with no real resolution or point in the end. Buck's lawsuit is a widely hated storyline by many, but I kind of understood what they were going for, only because Buck can be singularly sighted at times. But I still tend to skip over it in my rewatches. I don't care for the parental redemption arcs because sometimes parents just suck, and their adult children have the right to live their lives telling people their parents sucked. Buck and Eddie's parents sucked. They sucked in different ways, but they both definitely sucked. Lastly as far as hated plots go, the entire back half of season 7(episodes 7-10) belongs in a fire pit of hell never to be seen again. I won't watch any of it ever again. I rebuke it entirely. It was abysmal.

Now, I know this is not going to be the answer you were hoping for, but anyone whose knowledge of the show consists solely of 7 episodes from one season absolutely does not have a valid opinion of the characters or the show. We would be here days if I did this character by character so for the sake of time I'm going to relegate this answer to Buck, you know the half of your ship you all care the least about, but the half the audience and the show cares the most about. You never met and don't understand the reference Buck 1.0, or Buck 2.0 for that matter. You don't know clipboard Buck, or that it's canon that Eddie is the only human alive who finds that Buck endearing. You don't know who Daniel is, or how he ties into Buck's complete lack of self worth. You don't know who Carla is or how Buck met her or who she now is to Eddie and Christopher. You don't know why Buck doesn't associate with the name Evan, and why it's actually gross that Tommy refuses to call him Buck. You don't know why Buck had to wear a protective sleeve on his leg during the pickup basketball game. You don't know the significance of 3 minutes and 17 seconds. You don't know that Buck basically spent the better part of three years without a couch. You don't know that during the tsunami while trying to protect whatever was left of Christopher's innocence he started a game of I spy so Christopher would look up instead of down at the water and the bodies floating by. You don't know who taught Buck how to cook. You don't know he tended bar and worked on a ranch at one point before going to the fire academy. You don't know that Bobby fired him. This is nowhere near everything but I'm guessing you get the point. If you don't want to watch the entire series don't. No one is going to force you. But we all know the reason you won't watch it is because learning who Buck truly is would no longer allow you the ability to mold him entirely out of your Tommy headcanons. He's not a damsel in distress. He's not weak or incapable of speaking for himself or saving himself. He doesn't need Tommy to survive day to day. You don't want his canon history, fine, but it absolutely makes your opinion of him worthless.

Phew, well I feel like this is kind of a great conclusion to the posts I have been answering all night about hated plots and why some people can't seem to accept that BT isn't endgame.

It's because of this! Once again, thank you anon OP for your almost devastating eloquence. I wish I had even half of your writing talent.

Thank you once again Nonny for dropping this in my askbox.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[lokisprettygirl]

Utopia (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x female reader) (Non Canon AU) (18+)

Read chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Summary: Daemon gives you the gift of a lifetime.

Warning: 18+ sex ,period sex (if it bothers you skip the scene) death and destruction that comes from a ship wreckage, smut, sex, menstrual sex, unprotected sex. Some inconsistency with ship sinking, i researched as much as I could

You were sitting in the office of the hiring manager of Casatopia, a popular five star hotel just outside London, it was closer to your house though and that's what you liked. Emma had asked Dalton to give your name for the vacant sous chef position so you decided to give it a try.

You couldn't just stay at home and miss Daemon like crazy when he wasn't around you, being at home all day long was driving you bonkers. The topia in the name made you feel slightly uneasy but you ignored the thought and decided to focus on the interview.

“So how was it at night ..over there?” Preston, the manager, asked you so you gave him a confused look, hoping that he would be able to provide you with a bit more context.

“I apologize I don't understand” you mumbled politely so he gave you a small smile.

“On the island I meant, I hope I'm not stepping on your boundaries, I'm just absolutely fascinated by your survival story” he said to you, his tone was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity.

Of Course he was curious. As soon as people recognised you this was how it went, perhaps you should consider scraping 'Worked as a sous chef on Queen Utopia' from your resume. You couldn't help but feel that it may not be the most professional topic to discuss at a job interview.

“It was tough but atleast I wasn't alone, I had someone who kept me sane there, there are people on this earth who have survived months with no one by their side so I'm grateful to not be alone in that situation” you mumbled politely as you understood where he was coming from.

Prior to your experiences on the ship and the island, you were one of those people who would read about survival stories and be amazed at what the survivors had accomplished. You always found it impossible to imagine yourself in such a situation and couldn't comprehend how someone could have the resilience and to make it through something like that.

That was, until you found yourself in a similar situation on the island, and your survival instincts began to kick in.

“Yeah I know..Daemon Targaryen, you lot are famous” You gave him a tight lipped smile as he said that.

A news article had picked up Lily's reddit post which had then reached the mainstream media. The backlash was brutal, but you and Daemon stood firm and refused to get caught up in the drama. You both knew that your love and appreciation for each other shouldn't have needed any justification after the traumatic event you both had been through. It should have been self-explanatory,

“Alright you're hired” he said to you so you furrowed your brows as he didn't really ask anything about your work experiences.

“You don't want to know anything about my capabilities or -” he interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence.

“Dalton told me enough..i just wanted to meet you if I'm being honest”

Were you getting some sort of hero privilege because of your suffering? You weren't sure if you enjoyed being favored like this or not. The attention you received was overwhelming and at times made you feel uncomfortable, especially when it seemed like people were looking at you as some kind of hero rather than a regular human being who just happened to have survived a traumatic experience when there really wasn't any other option.

“Our live band quit on us a few days ago and we are looking for a band again, though i have connected with the manager already, i hope The Dragonriders would accept the job”

You sighed as he said that and you were going to politely decline the job offer but then he passed you the salary slip and you accepted it almost immediately, it was more than you could have ever imagined.

Later that day as you reached home after that weird interview session, there was a text from Daemon, he was supposed to meet you at your place..

You grabbed a few things and called a cab to make way to his place. He had given you a key to his house for emergencies purposes and normally you'd just knock but you decided to make use of the key this time, as you knew that Daemon was in pain and likely resting in bed.

As you entered his bedroom he was laying on the bed with his head squished into the pillow so you climbed into the bed and wrapped your arm around him, as soon as he felt your touch his arm circled around your waist and he placed his head between the crook of your neck. His eyes were bloodshot red, his face was warm to the touch as well, he seemed flushed and even though he was in misery at the moment you couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked like this.

“Let me take care of you ok..did you take your pill?” You asked him softly as you scratched his scalp so he barely groaned in response.

“I'll be right back okay?” you got up from the bed, turning off all the lights in the room, as you knew how sensitive Daemon was to bright lights. You brought out the candles you had packed with you and began lighting them, casting a warm soft glow around the room. You then made your way to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of ice water and a wet cloth. Once everything was ready, you returned to Daemon's room and gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention so he scooted closer and placed his head on your lap.

Dipping the cloth in the icy cold water you placed it on his forehead and he sighed as he felt the cooling sensation, he opened his eyes to look at you for a moment, his lips curved into a faint smile before he closed his eyes again and allowed you to do your thing.

He had never had anyone caring about him like this, this was one of those things that made him feel closer to you on the island and he had come to realize how precious you actually were inside out.

And now your value in his life was something nobody else would ever be able to replicate or replace.

During his migraine attacks the most Lily ever did for him was that she'd sing at times and not that he was going to compare you two, he appreciated her efforts too but you just did it differently, you took care of him in ways he always wanted to be cared for.

He laid there quite for what felt like hours and as the burning pain gradually subsided, he took your hand and kissed it lovingly before he asked you to stop, he just wanted to hold you now and cuddle the night away.

“Emma found us a gig” he mumbled so you sighed in response. You were well aware of the gig.

“She found me a job as well at Casatopia” you said to him so nodded in acknowledgement. He already knew about that.

“Fate” he muttered softly so you pecked on his lips.

“It's giving me deja vu.. doesn't it feel weird to you that we'd be working again at the same place, in the hospitality industry no less? And there's literally topia in the name?”

He pulled away a little as you said that, he wasn't really thinking about it until you pointed it out.

“Are you worried something awful is going to happen again?” he asked you with concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah..what if the hotel burns down or explodes? Or something” you mumbled, your voice held a sense of foreboding.

“That's not going to happen sweetheart..you can't go about your life living in such fear but that is not to say that your fears are not valid, they truly are ..but no matter what happens I'll find you like you have found me..i promise okay?” he reassured you gently and you couldn't help but smile at that. The trauma was indented into you so deeply but with him by your side life was so much easier to deal with.

“Are you feeling okay now?” You asked him so he hummed in response,

“I'd feel much better if you'd ride me right about now” he gave you a mischievous smirk so you tapped on his cheek lightly.

“Dirty boy” you mumbled as you climbed on top of him and immediately unbuttoned his pants. Sometimes you both needed this quick raw fuck where no foreplay was a necessity or required, you just wanted to feel him inside you and he was more than eager to spill into you as fast as you could make him.

“Would you keep your schedule clear for the next week?” he asked you so you looked at him curiously.

“The whole week? I'm starting that job..”

“Can you talk to them and start a week later?” He mumbled as his breath hitched in his chest when you sunk down on him,

“Normally it would have seemed impossible but considering that manager is such a fan of ours I think I can manage” you chuckled softly and that made him smile too.

“Mmmm the trauma has its perks huh?”

You rode him very slowly at first as you just wanted to feel him in there, your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt and then you leaned down to suck on his neck before you lowered your mouth and pressed kisses on his bare chest.

“What are you planning?” You whispered in his ear so he gave you a smile.

“I'm taking you somewhere sweetheart”

“I can't ask where?”

He shook his head as you said that.

“It's a surprise”

“Alrighty”

Next day while Daemon was rehearsing with the band you sat down in front of the tv and received a surprising albeit not really shocking news, you had a feeling that Danny had something to do with the ship sinking incident and you were proven right.

He had come out in the open to tell that he had inadvertently left the cargo hatch open on the lower deck because he was distracted by something and someone, which allowed water to enter and resulted in the sinking, when he had realised it was too late to fix it. His video had received a million views where he was seen crying and apologizing because he couldn't bear the guilt of it anymore.

Even though Danny hadn't directly implicated Lily in his statement, you couldn't shake the feeling that her involvement was still tied to the tragedy because she had sent that voicemail that night to Daemon mentioning Danny and you had seen Danny at her house that night.

As you watched the news, you found yourself at a loss for words. How could Danny have made such a devastating mistake, especially when so much was at stake? The consequences of his actions were unfathomable, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anger, sadness, and frustration bubbling up inside you.

People had lost their lives, families had been torn apart, and all because of one person's negligence.

You felt enraged because he was the reason why you had to suffer for so long on that Island, all of this for what?

All you felt in that moment was resentment and anger towards Lily and Danny, that night when he looked into your eyes you didn't understand that look he gave you but now you knew it was probably guilt.

Given the severity of the situation, it was likely that he was going to get charged with manslaughter and his life was ruined, that was given.

When you saw Daemon that day he seemed lost too so you just wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly to comfort him.

“Did she ever tell you about this?”

You asked him as you pulled away so he shook his head lightly,

“I can't make sense of it…how could you be involved in something like that and then..she must have known that ship would sink and she didn't even try to warn us or— i -” you rubbed his shoulders with your fingers to comfort him as you heard his voice breaking, he was at loss of words as well, same as you but it was more difficult for him because Lily was involved.

“You spend years with someone and you think you know who they are but I.. didn't know her ..at all. How could I have been in love with her if I didn't know her like that?” his eyes teared up as he questioned you so you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

“It's not that easy.. love is complex..you can't put it in a box like that Daemon..you loved her but honestly she never deserved your love”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer as you said that, until now he had never heard you saying anything against Lily even when she gave you every reason to do so but now he understood your resentment as he felt the same way about it. He resented her now especially because ever since he had returned all she had tried to do was possess him again, she didn't care what he had gone through and she definitely didn't care that she was one of the reasons why that had happened to him.

He really thought that perhaps with time a friendship could develop between them again but this revelation had changed that for him. He didn't want her in her life anymore, he didn't want to be around her in any form.

A week later you were packing for that surprise trip and Emma offered to help you with that,

“Where is he taking you?” She asked you so you shrugged in response as you didn't know yourself where he was taking you. This was his big surprise.

“He won't say anything..I was hoping he had spilled something to Aemond or Cole-”

“Nahh Aemond would have told me”

You nodded as she said that, the next morning he picked you up in the earliest and as you reached the dock with him your blood ran cold so he took his seat belt off and grabbed your hand.

“I need you to trust me, okay? Can you?” he asked you softly so you gulped in nervousness.

“Are we.. going on a boat ride?” your voice shook as you spoke so he nodded,

“It's going to be ok..I'll take care of you I promise.. I just ..just trust me please”

You cupped his cheeks as he said that. The ocean terrified you, anything to do with ships or boats scared you but you wanted to trust him because you had a feeling this was something really important to him and you had a feeling wherever he was taking you would only bring you happiness because he was certain of it.

As you boarded the high-speed boat, the churning waters and the speed at which the vessel was traveling brought back memories so you spent most of the time being in the deck with Daemon,

Apart from you two there were two trained operators who were going to drive you both towards the destination, you noticed how the boat was equipped with everything you'd ever need in the case of an emergency. Plenty of rations, clothes and other necessities were available.

“How much did you spend on this?” You asked him softly as you both were cuddling on the bed so he gave you a smirk.

“You don't have to worry about that..I wanted to do this for both of us”

He was being so cryptic and mysterious and perhaps you'd have felt wary of a man's intentions but it was Daemon, your cavemon and if there was something you knew about that man then it was the fact that he'd never hurt you or harm you in anyways.

With Daemon by your side the time always seemed to race so approx two days later as you finally reached your destination he put a blindfold over your eyes and asked you to not try to peek until he said so.

You couldn't help but giggle, his excitement was infectious.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he guided you off the boat and as soon as he put you down you felt the warm sand beneath your feet and let out a literal gasp.

“Daemon–” your voice came out in a whisper and as you inhaled the air, your eyes widened.

You didn't even have to guess anymore as you recognized the scent of your surroundings immediately. You had spent six months here after all.

You were back on the island, the island that had saved your life in a way and brought the love of your life closer to you.

The uninhabited island that was now owned by Daemon Targaryen and had a name now. Utopia- a place where everything was perfect.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Note: There will be an epilogue for this to sum it up. But this was all I had to tell about Mr Cavemon and his brave girl that risked everything for him. Hope my lovely few readers had enjoyed this story 🥺

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[dawnbreakerluna]

i was inspired by many creators talking about this but here are some of my formal criticisms of l&ds because no matter how much i love this game and find it near-perfect, there are still flaws!

zayne's english voice lines. while it didn't bother me on the level that it did most in the past, i do think infold could do a great service of rerecording the interaction lines. they finally found the right footing for his tone and how to capture his character with the later affinity content and the recent events / main story chapter. please! i beg! (i'm already aware the localization isn't top tier but i feel this is a somewhat doable fix, though tedious.)

the timing of banners. in this economy? insane. also i'm gonna be real, i'm unemployed right now (it was an unfortunate circumstance) and my means of finding a proper job is honestly difficult with my full load of classes. it's hard being a f2p player especially when the rewards for grinding isn't as hefty as i'd like it to be. i think it's decent for what it is right now, but it could be better. also... they need to space this shit out. LMAO. i've played my fair share of gacha and otome games, yes, but with how fast-paced the updates for this game is, infold could at least offer some more in-game benefits or rewards. (ex. giving out free 10 pulls... if you're going to do a quad banner, i wouldn't mind 40 free pulls as i could just grind the rest during the duration of that event.)

increasing rewards for daily tasks/challenges/etc. because what am i gonna do with 30-50 gens per card upgrade, and so on and so forth. i also would like a new update to the abyssal chaos deductions. maybe upgrade the rewards cap since so many of us (i assume) have already maxed it out. unfortunately as a girlie who fucking loves hack and slash games, abyssal chaos is my favorite game mode and it doesn't stress me out. (a bitch is STRUGGLING with her protocore levels right now.)

infold's stance on lgbtq+ fan content. i already wrote a post here somewhat related to this. while i'm talking fans specifically, infold's stance is what i feel significantly influences the homophobic behavior. yes, we know it's an otome game. yes, we know what otome means. but i just call it what it is and i think the love interests are not confined to strict heterosexuality and the norms of it.

the characterization and treatment of the LIs. i'll be honest one of the huge turn offs for me for rafayel is the way the mc's responses are programmed towards him. while i don't mind banter in the way that it's done for zayne/sylus, i don't like how snarky it is on the player's end for rafayel. also, i know i'm a pervert on the main but i do think infold could chill a bit on the hypersexualization in certain instances (sylus). because there's no way you're gonna give me 50% and then not fulfill the rest. this is the worst kind of foreplay.

i've seen a few instances of people from cn explaining that there's setbacks due to cultural norms, etc. that would prevent something like a card with fully explicit sex being made. that's why there's only sexually implicit content. (if anyone could provide context on this or confirm, do add!) ((yes, i've seen the car sex card from mqlc... need that with zayne actually.))

every day i'm thankful for the misty invasions event, but i still have hope for more. i guess what i'm trying to say is that infold is already on a good run with making this game as to appeal to a more mature audience, yet... THERE COULD BE MORE. idk.

[taki118]

Yakuza Fiance ep 3 Manga Comparison

Ep 3 of Raise wa Tanin ga Ii aka Yakuza Fiance, just aired, and you know the drill there are some important and/or fun things that slipped through the cracks of adaptation. Since I am SUPER normal about the manga I got everything here under the cut. Warning these are fan translations cause I'm lazy.

So for reference yes the manga chapter does start like that but there is a little back and forth in the scene overall including this

Kirishima actually has to beg more for Ayano (thats her name) we loose some good bits, such as Aya being a bikini model and having a boyfriend she complains to him about, and how Kirishima describes their situation like its your bog standard high school romance.

This scene was really cut down to be like a cold open there's more but there's this

We get more insight into Kirishima's situation with these women and confirmation there are more and that they are aware. Another thing is Ayano does help Kirishima work through some thoughts and cutting down their back and forth looses some of that. (maybe i'll do a whole thing on this later)

I actually really like how they did the first sleep scene in the anime except

Why did they leave out the line where Yoshino guesses it was Kirishima? Its so odd but again this scene of Yoshino in the kitchen is longer in the manga

Most importantly it makes clear a full day has passed and that she was trying to sus out info from him at school. Also she ponders if he poisoned her water filter before she has her freak out that he's so crazy it's becoming normal for her.

Overall the second sleep scene is done fairly well I like how it's animated the manga just gives you a feeling its going on longer as Kirishima makes a bunch of braids in her hair so her jumping makes more sense but also we loose this bit

I dunno I just think Kirishima worrying about the futon and her hair is funny.

Honestly I'm actually surprised how closely the convo they have after this is so close to manga. I'm glad cause it's important I could talk about it but thats not what this is for (getting so many ideas though)

So again there is more back and forth about Kirishima calling Gaku (where he says he thinks he shouldve gone in person to apologize) and more on Yoshino's dad, with her asking how much he's looked into her and Kirishima admitting it was a bit. Yoshino also states it was because her dad was normal she had some hopes of being with a normal guy, and that all the men in the house feel like fathers or brothers to her which I do honestly think is important for her so I'm sad thats out. Its not alot but it is some added context.

so ok this guy at the summit, (excuse my shitty picture)

Yeah he's not introduced in the manga at this point, every other character is there but for some reason the anime added this guy to the scene. Like he shows up WAY later and doesn't do much had it pointed out to me but its still weird. Anyway surprisingly the meet is very accurate to the manga thought for sure they cut something but no instead of ending with Akime giving an ominous stare we get this guy glaring at Renji, and like I think it really undercuts the scene cause it makes him seem more important than he probably is.

Anyway the scene with Hotei is again longer in the manga and like the scenes with Renji a lot of the warmth is lost again you don't really get a sense for their dynamic like technically there's nothing really missing but it doesn't quite have the right feel.

So I am very surprised with how much the cut from the SHouma shopping scene. Such as this

Like Yoshino is literally dragging him around cause he can't be bothered and Yoshino points out he went through the trouble of booking a room but not packing luggage, grade A Shouma logic, (also why that added bit in ep 2 makes zero sense) But we also loose some more explanation as to why he's here now.

Its not needed needed but it does provide extra context. What I am upset with is they didn't do the pay off for a set up in ep 1

Like the weirdly cut out the part of their conversation about the bullying Yoshino got in ep 1 explaining who she sent the picture to and why she did it. It's so weird honestly cause again this shows us how close they are and what their dynamic looks like. Also it just makes the conversation flow more naturally, in the anime is a little odd.

Well at least they kept Kirishima's weird ass basement.

Again though a LOT is cut from the dinner scene with Yoshino and Shouma the conversation is a lot longer.

She brings up Kirishima after rolling down his sleeves (which is funnier in the manga) and again the flow is better. Yoshino gives a much more in-depth explanation about why she can't really describe him to Hotei. But there is some character stuff here in her feeling comfortable enough to tell Shouma, also he makes some funny faces.

Anyway the explanation about the gang stuff is kinda the same overall but the manga feels less expositioney about it what with how its presented and how it feels more like a conversation

It just feels less like Shouma is talking at her but rather with her.

So again I don't get why the anime keeps removing the humor from the series like this

The idea that Yoshino is dying from over eating but Shouma wants to get some ramen and how he compares her to a sea lion, like its fun anime why do you seem to hate fun. But again a LOT of context is taken out of the scene from between Yoshino complaining about Kirishima to Shouma saying he'll kill him

Like the pieces are here but they arent quite fleshed out enough, the anime makes it seem like Shouma just offered to kill unprompted but Yoshino brings it up first in the manga and the way she talks there he does sound more dangerous.

The convo again is similar but lacking in depth, both because its shortened and because a lot of the build up is missing. Honestly theres just sooooo much in this ep I'm not surprised but I am surprised where its cut from. The ending is exactly the same with Kirishima and Shouma meeting (again why that bit last ep??) with the exception of missing out on this golden undercut

Like seriously why take out these jokes anime? this better be in ep 4

[muiitoloko]

Like father Like Son

Summary: After all, Eli and Barkley had more in common than Eli realized.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Neglectful father, obsession, betrayal, manipulation, forbiden love and seduction.

Author's Note: ⚠️ PLEASE READ FOR CONTEXT ⚠️ In this one-shot, I've taken some liberties with the plot of the movie "Nobel Son." Certain events from the original storyline have been omitted or altered, particularly regarding the relationship between Sarah and Eli. In this version, Sarah and Eli separate shortly after Eli's Nobel Prize win, and Eli's subsequent efforts to improve his relationship with Barkley take precedence. Please, if I forgot to mention any warnings, let me know.

Second part here.

It had been a year since Eli parted ways with Sarah, the divorce coming on the heels of his Nobel Prize win. While some might have mourned the loss of a relationship, Eli couldn't care less about the divorce itself. Sure, he missed the morning sex, but the freedom to pursue his affairs without the need for secrecy outweighed any sense of loss he might have felt.

Sarah had taken half of his possessions in the settlement, but Eli didn't mind. Material possessions were inconsequential to a man of his stature. What did bother him, though, was the occasional pang of loneliness that crept up when he found himself alone in his grandiose home. Despite his vast network of acquaintances and lovers, there were moments when the emptiness of his surroundings felt suffocating.

His son Barkley's visits provided some semblance of companionship, but their relationship remained strained and fraught with tension. Eli made an effort to connect with Barkley, to bridge the chasm that had formed between them over the years. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment and frustration that accompanied his interactions with his son.

"Barkley is so idiot," Eli would mutter to himself, his tone dripping with disdain and resentment. In his eyes, Barkley was a disappointment, a failure who couldn't measure up to his father's lofty expectations. No matter how hard Eli tried to instill in him the values of ambition and success, Barkley always seemed to fall short.

But finally, Barkley seemed to do something right in life. One day, he announced to Eli that he wanted to introduce his girlfriend to his father and asked if they could go out to dinner. Eli reluctantly accepted, not at all interested in the prospect, but he went anyway, just wanting to have some semblance of fun amidst his mundane existence.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Barkley welcomed his girlfriend with a kiss, and Eli couldn't help but be enchanted. You was stunning, absolutely breathtaking. The dress you wore clung to your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left Eli momentarily speechless.

"Oh, fuck," Eli muttered under his breath, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of desire and admiration. You was his type, completely and utterly, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from your.

Barkley smiled proudly as he introduced you to his father, Eli Michaelson, the Nobel prize winner. You blushed, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves at meeting such a renowned figure in the field of chemistry. For someone passionate about science like yourself, the opportunity to converse with a Nobel laureate was nothing short of surreal.

"Doctor Michaelson, it's an honor to meet you," you said, your voice tinged with genuine admiration as you extended your hand to him. Eli studied you with keen interest, his gaze piercing and intense as he took in your shy demeanor and flushed cheeks.

"The pleasure is mine," Eli replied, his voice smooth and confident as he shook your hand with a firm grip. "I must say, Barkley has spoken very highly of you. It's not often he brings someone home to meet his old man."

Barkley chuckled nervously beside you, his arm draped casually around your chair as he sought to bridge the gap between his father and his girlfriend. Despite the tension that lingered between them, Barkley seemed determined to make the evening a success, to prove to his father that he was capable of making his own choices in life.

As the three of you settled into dinner, Barkley made a concerted effort to keep the conversation flowing, ensuring that both you and his father were engaged and included in the discussion. You found yourself relaxing in his presence, his easy charm and infectious enthusiasm putting you at ease despite your initial nerves.

Eli, too, seemed to warm to the conversation, his usual air of arrogance giving way to a genuine interest in getting to know you better. He peppered you with questions about your academic pursuits, your interests, and your aspirations, his sharp mind probing for any hint of weakness or vulnerability.

But to Eli's surprise, you held your own admirably, your passion for chemistry shining through as you spoke animatedly about your research and your dreams for the future. Despite your shyness, there was a quiet confidence about you, a strength of character that intrigued Eli more than he cared to admit.

And as the evening wore on, Eli found himself increasingly drawn to you, captivated by your intelligence and charm. He couldn't understand how his idiot son had managed to find someone like you, someone who was clearly out of his league in every respect. You deserved better, someone who could appreciate you for the remarkable woman you were.

Eli's mind wandered, consumed by vivid fantasies of you writhing beneath him, your soft moans filling the air as you whispered his name in ecstasy. He could already picture the way your body would arch beneath his touch, the way your skin would flush with desire as he claimed you as his own.

But his reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sight of Barkley leaning into you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered something that made you blush furiously. Eli's jaw clenched with barely concealed frustration as he watched the intimate exchange between you and his son, a surge of possessiveness coursing through him at the thought of Barkley touching you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Though he couldn't hear what Barkley was saying, Eli didn't need to. The way your cheeks flushed and your eyes darted nervously around the room spoke volumes, betraying the intimate nature of the conversation. It wasn't difficult to guess what Barkley was up to, most likely whispering something dirty in your ear to make you squirm and blush with embarrassment.

Eli's grip on his fork tightened involuntarily, the metal digging into his palm as he fought to suppress the surge of jealousy that threatened to overwhelm him. He had never been one to tolerate competition, especially not from his own son, and the thought of Barkley encroaching on his territory filled him with a primal rage that bordered on madness.

But even as his anger simmered beneath the surface, Eli remained outwardly composed, his expression carefully neutral as he observed the exchange between you and Barkley with detached interest. He didn't even notice when his grip on his fork tightened, the metal bending under the pressure of his fingers as he struggled to maintain his composure.

In that moment, all Eli could think about was you, and the overwhelming desire to possess you, body and soul. He would have you, one way or another, consequences be damned. For in the twisted mind of Eli Michaelson, nothing and no one would stand in the way of what he wanted most.

As the days passed, Eli found himself consumed by thoughts of you, the object of his desire. Your image lingered in his mind, haunting his waking hours and infiltrating his dreams. He longed to have you, to possess you in every way imaginable.

On the days when Barkley visited, bringing you along with him, Eli's anticipation soared to dizzying heights. Every moment in your presence was a precious gift, one he cherished and savored with every fiber of his being. Your laughter, your scent, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief—all of it fueled his insatiable hunger for you.

In the privacy of his lavish bathroom, Eli succumbed to his fantasies, unable to resist the temptation to indulge in the pleasure of imagining you with him. His hands roamed over his body, tracing the contours of his desire, as he conjured vivid scenarios in which you were his and his alone.

But with each passing day, Eli's longing intensified, morphing into an all-consuming obsession that threatened to consume him whole. He cursed the cruel twist of fate that had bestowed upon him such forbidden desires, lamenting the fact that he and Barkley shared the same taste in women.

It was during one of Barkley's visits that Eli finally made his move, unable to ignore the primal urge that pulsed through his veins. With a calculated blend of charm and cunning, he began to plant seeds of doubt in Barkley's mind, subtly sowing discord in the relationship between his son and you.

Perhaps, Eli mused, he and Barkley were not so different after all. Both driven by their desires, both willing to do whatever it took to claim what they wanted as their own. And as he watched the cracks begin to form in Barkley's facade, Eli felt a twisted sense of satisfaction wash over him.

As Eli entered the living room, his frustration simmered beneath the surface. He watched as you and Barkley engaged in lively conversation, your laughter filling the room with warmth. But his annoyance at being left to handle dinner alone gnawed at him, threatening to overshadow his growing infatuation with you.

"Hey, Barkley," Eli began, his tone tinged with irritation. "Could you lend me a hand with dinner? It seems I'm flying solo tonight."

Barkley shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry, Dad. I'm not exactly a culinary expert."

Eli's lips formed a thin line, but before he could respond, you intervened, your voice soft and apologetic. "I can help, Doctor Michaelson. I'm sorry for not offering sooner."

A flicker of amusement danced in Eli's eyes as he handed you an apron. "Ah, none of that 'Doctor Michaelson' nonsense anymore. Call me Mr. Michaelson. I've earned it," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You chuckled, the sound like music to Eli's ears, as you tied the apron around your waist. "Alright, Mr. Michaelson. What can I do to assist?"

Eli grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of working alongside you. "First things first, we'll need to chop these vegetables. Care to lend me a hand?"

You nodded, following him to the kitchen and standing next to him, with graceful and fluid movements, Eli couldn't help but feel a wave of admiration for you. He took the opportunity to address the issue that had been weighing on his mind.

"So, how are things going between you and Barkley?" he asked, his voice casual yet tinged with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment, your expression guarded, before finally admitting, "We've been... having some disagreements lately. But I'm hopeful we can work through them."

Eli studied you intently, sensing there was more beneath the surface. "Are you sure about that?" he pressed gently, his gaze searching yours for any sign of deception.

You sighed softly, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "Honestly, Mr. Michaelson, I'm not sure. But I'm willing to try."

A flicker of sympathy flashed in Eli's eyes as he reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. And who knows," he added with a playful wink, "maybe we can make this dinner a regular occurrence. Just you, me, and a whole lot of vegetables."

You smiled, almost all your shyness disappearing around Eli. With each visit, you were starting to get more comfortable with him, but there was still a lingering sense of bashfulness. After all, Eli was a brilliant man, particularly in chemistry, and you couldn't help but admire the feats he had achieved so far.

As you continued cutting the vegetables, oblivious to how Eli was leering at your ass whenever he had the chance, you focused on the task at hand. But suddenly, he interrupted you, claiming that you were cutting them wrong. Before you could protest, he stood behind you and took hold of your hand that held the knife, instructing you on how he wanted the vegetables to be cut.

His presence so close behind you sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush at the sudden intimacy. His baritone voice rang in your ear as he guided your hand, his touch igniting a flurry of conflicting emotions within you.

While Barkley was tall with an athletic body, Eli was still tall but carried more weight, giving him a thicker, more robust appearance. His hands were large and thick, a stark contrast to Barkley's leaner physique. For a moment, you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have those hands caressing you, those thick fingers sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

But as quickly as the thought entered your mind, panic set in. What were you thinking? Eli was Barkley's father, and these thoughts were entirely inappropriate. With a sudden jolt, you pulled away from Eli, the knife slipping from your grasp as you stumbled backward.

"Oh my god," you stammered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry, Doctor Michaelson. I didn't mean to... I mean, I..."

Eli's expression softened, a knowing glint in his eyes as he reached out to steady you. "It's alright, my dear. Accidents happen," he said reassuringly, though there was a hint of something else in his voice, something that made your heart race.

But as you regained your composure and resumed chopping the vegetables, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The momentary lapse in judgment had left you shaken, and you made a mental note to keep your thoughts in check around Eli in the future.

Little did you know, however, that Eli had taken notice of your reaction and was already concocting a plan to exploit the newfound vulnerability between you. For in the twisted game of desire, there were no rules, and Eli was determined to emerge victorious at any cost.

As the days passed, Eli's subtle seduction of you continued, each encounter filled with tension and unspoken desire. He made it a point to subtly undermine Barkley, painting him as immature and unworthy of your affection, while positioning himself as the mature and understanding figure you needed in your life.

With each passing interaction, Eli's charm and charisma wore down your defenses, until finally, one fateful evening, the dam broke, and you found yourself succumbing to his advances.

It had been a particularly tumultuous day, filled with heated arguments and simmering tension between you and Barkley. As you sat alone at the restaurant, abandoned by Barkley after yet another fight. You sighed tiredly and paid for dinner, the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you as you gathered your belongings and headed out into the cool night air. The streets were eerily quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.

With each step, your unease grew, amplified by the solitude of the deserted streets. The decision to walk home seemed increasingly ill-advised as the minutes ticked by, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Your pace quickened, heart pounding in your chest as you glanced over your shoulder, confirming your worst fears. Two shadowy figures lingered in the distance, their menacing gazes fixed on you like predators stalking their prey.

Panic surged through you, propelling you forward in a desperate bid to escape your pursuers. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to find safety at any cost, and you darted down side streets and alleyways in a frantic attempt to lose them.

But they were relentless, their footsteps echoing ominously behind you as they closed in with each passing moment. Fear gripped you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs as you raced against the clock, praying for a miracle to save you from the impending danger.

And then, just when it felt like all hope was lost, you saw him. Eli emerged from a nearby grocery store, a bag in hand, his imposing figure a beacon of hope in the darkness. Without a moment's hesitation, you rushed to his side, seeking refuge in his reassuring presence.

"Eli!" you called out, relief flooding through you as you practically threw yourself into his arms. He looked at you with confusion, concern etched into his features as he took in your shaken state.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern as he wrapped an arm around you protectively. You explained everything in a rush, the words tumbling from your lips as you recounted the harrowing ordeal you had just endured.

Eli listened intently, his expression darkening with each passing moment as he processed the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, he guided you to his car, a silent vow to keep you safe burning in his eyes as he ushered you inside.

As the engine roared to life and the car sped off into the night, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude towards Eli. In a world fraught with danger and uncertainty, he had become your unlikely savior, a pillar of strength in your darkest hour.

But as Eli drove, you didn't expect him to scold you, as his stern words catching you off guard. "Why the hell were you walking alone at a time like this? Don't you know how dangerous it is for a woman to walk alone at night?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you stammered to explain yourself. "I-I wasn't alone. I was with Barkley earlier tonight. We went out for dinner, but we ended up fighting again, and he left. I decided to walk back to cool down instead of picking up a taxi."

But your explanation only seemed to fuel Eli's frustration, his jaw clenched in anger. "I should teach Barkley better," he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with disappointment. "I don't understand why you're still with him."

You looked at Eli in surprise, taken aback by his harsh words. "But... Barkley is your son," you protested weakly, unsure of how to defend yourself.

Eli shook his head, his gaze piercing. "That doesn't excuse his behavior. What kind of man leaves his girlfriend walking alone at night?" he demanded, his voice brimming with righteous indignation.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Eli cut you off with a sharp gesture. "Don't you dare defend Barkley," he warned, his tone icy. "It doesn't matter if he was angry or not. He should have at least had the decency to put you in a taxi before leaving. That's what a real man does."

Silence descended upon the car, punctuated only by the hum of the engine as you mulled over Eli's words. His conviction was unwavering, his belief in what constituted acceptable behavior resolute. And yet, despite your initial resistance, a nagging doubt crept into your mind.

Why couldn't Barkley be more like his father? The thought lingered in your mind, casting a shadow over your already troubled relationship with Barkley. Perhaps, deep down, you knew that Eli was right. Perhaps you did deserve better.

But as you glanced at Eli, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, you couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the facade of charm and charisma. For all their similarities, father and son were cut from different cloth, each harboring their own secrets and desires.

"Eli," you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you... for looking out for me."

Eli's expression softened, a flicker of something akin to warmth in his eyes. "Of course," he replied, his tone gentler than before. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as the car continued on its journey through the night, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within you. Perhaps, in Eli, you had found not only a protector but also a confidant, someone who understood you in a way that Barkley never could. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was light at the end of the tunnel after all.

Eli stopped in front of your apartment, and you thanked him for the ride, grateful for his timely intervention. As you expressed your gratitude, Eli turned off the car engine and faced you, his expression serious yet tinged with a hint of concern.

"Be careful out there," he said softly, his hand resting on the passenger seat where you sat. "Tonight, you were lucky I was around. Thank my addiction to cigarettes and my sudden craving for ice cream, or who knows what could have happened to you."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest at the realization of just how close you had come to danger. "I... I don't know what I would have done without you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eli's gaze softened, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I don't like to imagine what could have happened to you," he confessed, his tone tinged with genuine concern. "God, when did I start to care so much about you?"

Before you could respond, Eli leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a tender yet intense kiss. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into his embrace, the heat of his touch igniting a firestorm of desire within you.

But as quickly as the kiss began, you pulled away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, mortified by your own audacity. "That was so wrong..."

Eli's expression softened, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Don't apologize," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Before you could protest further, Eli silenced you with another kiss, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. This time, you melted into the kiss, surrendering to the intoxicating rush of desire that pulsed between you.

As the kiss deepened, you felt yourself getting lost in the moment, consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted, of being desired. And in that fleeting moment of bliss, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, there was something more between you and Eli than mere attraction.

But as reality came crashing back, you broke away from the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to compose yourself. "I-I should go," you muttered, fumbling with the door handle in a desperate bid to escape the suffocating intimacy of the car.

But Eli stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion you couldn't quite comprehend. "Stay," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just for a little while longer..."

And as you gazed into Eli's eyes, the lines between right and wrong blurred into obscurity, leaving you with a single, undeniable truth: that in the tangled web of desire, there were no rules, no boundaries, only the relentless pursuit of pleasure at any cost. And if that meant succumbing to the forbidden allure of Eli Michaelson, then so be it.

With a silent nod, you settled back into the passenger seat, allowing yourself to be consumed by the intoxicating heat of the moment. For tonight, at least, you were content to lose yourself in the arms of the man who had unwittingly captured your heart.

Eli wasted no time in continuing kissing you, his lips hungry and demanding as he explored every inch of your mouth with a fervent passion. He savored the taste of you, the intoxicating blend of sweetness and spice that lingered on your lips, driving him to the brink of madness with desire.

As their kiss deepened, Eli felt a surge of arousal coursing through him, his body responding eagerly to the forbidden pleasure of your embrace. He traced his tongue along the curve of your lips, teasing them apart with gentle insistence as he sought to devour you whole.

With each passing moment, Eli felt himself growing more addicted to the heady rush of euphoria that enveloped him whenever he was with you. Your touch was like a drug, igniting a firestorm of need within him that threatened to consume him whole.

As he trailed kisses along your jawline, Eli couldn't help but marvel at the sheer intensity of his desire for you. He had kissed many women in his lifetime, but none had ever elicited such a visceral response from him, none had ever made him feel so alive.

And as he lost himself in the dizzying whirlwind of sensation, Eli found himself wondering if perhaps this was why Barkley was always so drawn to you. Maybe, just maybe, there was something inherently addictive about you, something that left men like Eli craving more with each passing moment.

Yes, it was no wonder Barkley was always eager to kiss you. You were sweet and addictive, a tantalizing temptation that beckoned him closer with every breathless moment. Eli found himself almost amused by the realization that he and Barkley had more in common than he liked to think. After all, they were both drawn to you like moths to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your allure.

In that moment, as he reveled in the intoxicating bliss of your embrace, Eli couldn't help but acknowledge the undeniable truth: you held a power over him that he couldn't begin to comprehend. And as he surrendered himself to the irresistible pull of desire, he knew that he would do anything, risk everything, for just one more taste of the ecstasy you offered.

[matan4il]

hi quick question: what do u know about the lavender ai post that's circulating? i saw it on this fact checking blog i follow and they made it seem legit but im not convinced

Hi Nonnie!

Before I get into this specific subject, I just wanna tell you that for me personally, this war has been an eye opener about how little some "fact checking" sites are worth. I've read several articles on that type of site, which could have used some fact checking themselves. In some cases, they had author names attached to them, and when checking the authors out, it was easy to find that they were not free of bias themselves. So... yeah. Take "fact checking sites" with a grain of salt. Even journalists sometimes get it wrong, and they're held to higher standards, and have more personal accountability, than most "fact checking sites," not to mention that the latter often simply rely on a selection of journalistic sources, but sometimes without really taking into account which are reliable, and which aren't.

As for the lavender AI issue specifically, I heard it briefly referenced on the news, during a discussion panel, and it was brought up in the context of recent conspiracy theories about Israel. The panelists were so clear on how obviously false these all were, they didn't even really get into refuting any of them.

A bit like how, in the past, when watching panelists discussing antisemitic tropes reincarnated as anti-Israel lies, I saw them bring up the one claiming Israel set up a field hospital in Haiti after the earthquake in order to harvest organs, which is obviously a new version of "the Jews are bloodthirsty" without bothering to refute it, because to Israelis, it's evident that it's bullshit. Not only because we're aware that we're not actually those evil creatures, lusting for death and destruction, that the anti-Israel crowd likes to portray us as, but also because we know that the constant terrorist attacks here have made Israel a world leader in the field of emergency medicine (here's an example: even the antisemitic UN had to admit an IDF unit was the best medical emergency team in the world), so that's the actual reason we set up that field hospital, much like we use our experience to help others in basically every disaster around the world that's willing to accept aid from Israel (and sometimes we operate even in places like Syria, where technically, we're defined as an enemy state, so all of the aid had to be provided directly to private people, and while keeping their identity a secret, so their own government can't presecute them for receiving it).

Anyway, since the TV discussion didn't get into refuting what they clearly saw as an absurd, hateful lie, I went online in search of more info, and found that this news venturing into mainstream media happened in The Guardian, a British news source known for its anti-Israel bias, to the point where a female black, non-Jewish journalist of theirs felt the need to point it out all the way back in 2003, and in Nov 2023, a Jewish employee of theirs had published a personal piece about feeling unsafe there, and looking for another place of employment. But the source that The Guardian is quoting, is actually not a proper journalistic publication, it's an anti-Israel propaganda blog based magazine, which includes Israeli anti-Zionists and Palestinians, publishing in English since its audience is very much not Israelis despite claiming that they want to inspire change in Israel, and responsible for systematically vilifying the country and spreading lies about it.

If I, as an Israeli, thought that something was wrong with a system the IDF is using, and wanted to see real change in my army, I wouldn't go to a publication that isn't journalistic in nature, that doesn't publish in a local language, that most Israelis have never heard about, and that those who did, don't trust, because of its known anti-Israel reputation. That in itself makes me suspicious.

The IDF gave a statement in response to questions presented by The Guardian, based on the aforementioned piece. It's a bit long, but here are the main references to the claimed AI system Lavender (emphasis added by me):

Some of the claims portrayed in your questions are baseless in fact, while others reflect a flawed understanding of IDF directives and international law.

The process of identifying military targets in the IDF consists of various types of tools and methods, including information management tools, which are used in order to help the intelligence analysts to gather and optimally analyze the intelligence, obtained from a variety of sources. Contrary to claims, the IDF does not use an artificial intelligence system that identifies terrorist operatives or tries to predict whether a person is a terrorist. Information systems are merely tools for analysts in the target identification process. According to IDF directives, analysts must conduct independent examinations, in which they verify that the identified targets meet the relevant definitions in accordance with international law and additional restrictions stipulated in the IDF directives.

The “system” your questions refer to is not a system, but simply a database whose purpose is to cross-reference intelligence sources, in order to produce up-to-date layers of information on the military operatives of terrorist organizations. This is not a list of confirmed military operatives eligible to attack.

For each target, IDF procedures require conducting an individual assessment of the anticipated military advantage and collateral damage expected. Such assessments are not made categorically in relation to the approval of individual strikes. The assessment of the collateral damage expected from a strike is based on a variety of assessment methods and intelligence-gathering measures, in order to achieve the most accurate assessment possible, considering the relevant operational circumstances. The IDF does not carry out strikes when the expected collateral damage from the strike is excessive in relation to the military advantage. In accordance with the rules of international law, the assessment of the proportionality of a strike is conducted by the commanders on the basis of all the information available to them before the strike, and naturally not on the basis of its results in hindsight.

The IDF outright rejects the claim regarding any policy to kill tens of thousands of people in their homes.

Some things about the claims in that piece don't work out IMO. Like, the number of fatalities if indeed there's an AI system, which produced a list of 37,000 Hamas and PIJ terrorists, with an automatic green light to kill between 15 to 100 civilians per each, especially in the first months of the war, and even assuming they couldn't target them all during that period of time (we do know most Hamas units have been destroyed). There are about 1,500 terrorists in a Hamas battalion (source in Hebrew), and 4 are left in Rafah, so only about 6,000 Hamas terrorists are in the last area the IDF has not operated in yet. That would mean roughly 31,000 terrorists were accessible targets. Just for the sake of erring on the side of caution, let's assume 10 killed civilians per Hamas terrorist, instead of that piece's claimed 15-100 approved per target. This would produce somewhere around 341,000 people killed in the first months alone. Let's go even lower, let's say 5 civilians killed per terrorist instead of 15-100. That would mean 186,000 killed during those months. We are exactly 6 months into the war, and even Hamas' numbers (likely inflated) don't claim more than 33,000 as the total number of fatalities. The given numbers and directives in that so-called "article" just don't match the reality on the ground, but claim to explain it, and to prove that Israel is being callous with civilians' lives in Gaza.

I'll also add that the AI-based decision making described doesn't take into account the possible presence and harm to the lives of Israeli hostages held captive in Gaza. That's another thing that makes me doubt that piece, because the IDF commanders have repeatedly stated their commitment to bringing back all the hostages, and as many alive as possible, and Israeli soldiers more than once risked their own lives to get them out, whether it was living people, or the bodies of Israelis who deserve to get to be buried back home, with their loved ones there, as in tact as possible. This scenario only works if we assume the Israeli commanders and soldiers have no sentiment for the lives of their own kidnapped civilians.

I guess that's what the piece's aim is. To play on people's fears of AI determining whether people will live or die, and to paint Israel as an evil, unfeeling, bloodthirsty entity, capable of anything, including of the inhumanity of letting computers decide the fate of human beings. The ease and speed with which people believe this, and spread this notion, before anyone has verified that Lavender is anything other than a database, just like the IDF says, feels like a demonstration of how all antisemitic blood libels are spread.

I hope this helped!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for siding with my Dad and actively shit talking/giving points about things his wife is wrong for?

Using 🎸🎶 as my emojis so I don't get lost.

For context, I (17F) and my sisters (14F and 12F) have lived with divorced parents for the past almost 13 years, nearly our entire lives. Our Dad (38M) and our Mom (38F) got divorced long ago, and since both have been remarried and divorced. My dad is currently married to his third wife (37F) and things have gone to shit. They grew up together and reconnected through Facebook a while back and began to talk. Since early July, they reconnected around late June, we have; drove 40 hours to Ohio to see and meet Wife and her 3 daughters (15, 7 and 5 F), moved them down over 80 hours of back and forth with both pets and kids, lived in a small trailer house until we closed our half million dollar one, and now we live in an old 1940s house where Wife never has to work unless she wants to. My Dad provides for her and her three kids easily on his own due to owning a fraction of the company he works for, but money has been a little tight due to a lack of houses to work on and her excessive spending.

This morning was when it bubbled over. She woke him up 30 mins before he needed to have his trailer, and hour away to pick it up, and be in another city still 30 mins from there, to pick up a free dresser we do not have room for. While getting ready he was informed her two youngest did the dishes to ask for something, a habit they all have. And to be clear, they ONLY do chores to go places and do things, so the house is often trashed. My Dad boiled over after both things adding onto all the stress of caring for 8 people and only seeing his 3 kids 4 days a month, and it started a scream fight that she encouraged. She loves to rile him up and then play victim, and this time was no different. Despite being angry, he asks if she still wants to go get the dresser, and she says she won't ride with him even to talk it out or get the fifth dresser for their room. So me and my middle sister (14F, we'll call her D.) Go with. We get the trailer, get into town, and he calls to confirm the address. Rather than tell him, she plays hard to get to piss him off, and we leave instead, not getting the dresser and taking the trailer back. The entire way Dad, D and I air our grievances about the behavior of Wife and her kids, discussing habits we don't like and clarifying we aren't doing it to be mean. It turns out, she was also bitching about the laundry and how she does everything when I've only ever seen her do theirs and no other chores. My Dad offers to solve it by having his own basket for his own laundry and even cooking his own meals if that's what's bothering her. Instead, she takes off her wedding ring rather than accepting the solutions. We talks, discussing how yes, they've been through a lot, but so have we, and that doesn't excuse her behavior.

We get home and the fighting starts again rather quickly, we don't catch much before it dies out but he tries to reason with her. I paint and everyone is calm for a bit. Well, I'm sitting on my bed and the fighting starts again. D and I share a room right over the garage, where the fight was, and D drops to the floor to listen. Our Dad uses many of the points we brought up in the car, and it hits hard and rings true really. At some point Wife complains that we never talk to her, and Dad points out that she picks fights when we're here and we know what divorce sounds like and refuse to get attached. She calls him our for being married and divorced twice, and Dad gets petty and tells her he didn't have kids outside marriage. And finally she complains that we don't do anything, and my Dad points out that we're self sufficient and do everything when we're here. The fight continues, he keeps making points we all discussed on the way to and from the trailer and failed dresser retrieval, and he keeps bringing up the ring since he doesn't want to divorce again.

Anyways, its causing a rift and I haven't told anyone but my Mom that I helped supply points, but I just feel bad because I feel like I somehow made the fighting worse by mentioning all the shit she does and talks about him and us.

TLDR; Dad and new wife were fighting all day and my sister and I gave points and talked shit about what's been bothering us in the car and our Dad brought up those points in the fight.

So Tumblr, am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[i-guess-im-into-this-now]

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E18 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet

Suiren - Jinshi's attendant

Lakan - master strategist

Pairin - one of the princesses at Verdigris House

Luomen - Maomao's physician father

Meimei: one of the princesses of Verdigris House

Suirei: court lady who doesn't like Maomao

Woah. Okay so that's a loaded exchange.

Jinshi: How does one decrease the value of a courtesan? Maomao: In the case of pregnancy, it would reduce it to nearly zero.

There are 7 seconds of silence in this show after that. Yes, I used a stopwatch to time it. That is a freaking insane pause.

Jinshi makes a move to... I don't know exactly, reach out maybe? Reassure Maomao that he's not planning on doing this? I'm not sure. There is a shit ton of subtext to this conversation, that I'm not sure I have completely figured out but I will try.

Jinshi is the more obviously bothered by this statement, by a lot. Maomao is just observing to see how Jinshi responds to it. Essentially what she says is that a man could rape a courtesan and impregnant her to bring her value down, to ruin her. It would bring her value so low that anyone could afford to buy out her contract at that point. Jinshi has not provided any context to why he asked this question, and Maomao is studying him closely to see what he does with the information. I don't believe she thinks he would do this personally to a courtesan, or she wouldn't have told him. But as it appears, they've arrived at a brothel where Jinshi stopped her before going inside to ask this very fucked up question. She has to at least examine the possibility that she is wrong about Jinshi. And I think he passes her scrutiny, but not without damage done. She's disappointed that he is planning on going into this brothel, and that he asked such a depraved question. It hits particularly hard, because just prior to this they were having a nice moment where she opened up about her father. Now she is likely backtracking, either wondering why she bothered, or scolding herself for behaving inappropriately.

As for Jinshi in this scene, he hasn't revealed why he wants the answer to this particular question so badly. But boy does he want it. He let himself and Maomao fall into Lakan's trap just so that Lakan would tell him the answer. But Lakan didn't answer. Instead Jinshi asks Maomao, knowing that the question is inappropriate. He risks damaging the regard between the two of them so that he can get this answer. He's risking widening the rift between them. But why? What use is this answer to Jinshi? Does this have to do with the story Lakan told? Is he concerned about what may have happened to a courtesan in the past? To Maomao's mother? Is there a courtesan in the present that Jinshi is concerned about? Who can say.

In any case, Jinshi can see the damage that asking it has caused. He tries, I think, to backtrack, but it's too late. Maomao is retreating from him. She wants to flee, this conversation hurts for reasons she doesn't want to examine. Thank god Jinshi is emotionally intuitive. He can't let her walk away like this. The rift between them is too large, there is no telling if it could even be fixed if she leaves now. Jinshi grabs her arm.

Jinshi: You're leaving me now?

Maomao explains that her presence would compromise whatever plans he has in the restaurant. And Jinshi has to agree that makes sense, even if he can't put into thoughts or words why his heart is breaking right now.

Jinshi's critical error in this moment is that he is trying to keep Maomao out of what he's up to. He wants to protect her from whatever he's involved in, yet doing so is harmful too. He never tells her why he is visiting this place. He never explains why he asked the question. She is left to fill in the blanks with her own assumptions, with devastating results. In his effort to protect Maomao, Jinshi has harmed her. Jinshi cares for Maomao, but he hasn't learned to fully trust or respect her. And there will never be a relationship without trust. He's still got a lot of work to do before a real relationship can happen.

Maomao: It's fine. I didn't show any emotion when I spoke.

Maomao!!!

Her heart is breaking here too. I'm only surprised she is willing to admit it to herself. Perhaps the anguish of this moment has become too great to deny? For as sad as this scene is, that Maomao is aware and acknowledging her emotions is a major breakthrough! I suspect she's in for some painful moments now that she has to feel her pain, but you can't heal what you don't feel. She's on a path of healing now! Yay!

Oh my god, she even turned around to watch him walk into the building. So good Maomao. You're doing great girl!

Maomao: I truly hope you enjoy your evening good sir.

Maomao you dirty little liar!

Okay so maybe we only get to see a tiny step forward for Maomao, but a tiny step is still progress! I'm just so happy to see anything that pokes past the impasse that Jinshi and Maomao have been stuck at for ages.

The fuck kind of nightmare was that?! No wonder Maomao doesn't like to feel her emotions if she gets horrible flashbacks. Was she the baby in that scene? It looked like someone who was horribly injured tried to kill a baby. Apparently they couldn't go through with it. Was this Maomao's courtesan mother? Was she burned or scarred in someway? Perhaps to bring down her value? Or was the baby the product of rape? Was she trying to get rid of the baby to allow her to what? Return to being a courtesan? Seems unlikely with the injuries. Because she hates how the baby was conceived? Because the baby reminds her of the man who did this to her? Maybe to kill the baby so it couldn't be abused by someone else? Maybe because the woman in the scene was planning to kill herself after killing the baby?

Maomao looks at her hand, then thinks about the conversation she had with Jinshi yesterday. She then says of the nightmare that she brought it up. So there is a connection between the conversation and the nightmare. I'm guessing that what Jinshi asked about is exactly what happened to Maomao's mother, which triggered her memory. Why look at her hand? Does this have anything to do with her bandaged arm? Does the neglect or abuse of her mother have something to do with Maomao's low self-worth and the reason she is willing to self harm for her experiments? Or is she looking at her hand just to ground herself in reality, to try to fight back the traumatic memories?

After being awoken by her nightmare, Maomao is comforted by the familiar sight and routine of her father working in the apothecary. He asks her to take a package to Verdigris House.

This is maybe as good a time as any to ponder if Maomao's connection with Verdigris House is greater than that of an apothecary. I mean clearly it is, she considers the people here to be her family. But could she have had blood family that lived here as well? Was her mother one of the courtesans? I think that has been hinted at fairly strongly now.

Maomao is welcomed back with open arms. I'm so glad too see it. When was the last time someone gave Maomao a hug? Was it the last time she was here at the brothel?

Pairin is being harassed by granny to make a choice on something, and Maomao uses the opportunity to sneak away.

Pairin: Is she going to the annex?

I fricking hope so! I've been waiting for this!

Okay, so the annex is part of Verdigris House. And it looks identical to the room in Maomao's nightmare. So this must be where Maomao's mother lived. Perhaps where she died. And Maomao lived here, at least as an infant. How did she end up with Luomen?

Oh shit! Her mother is still alive?! But in a terrible state. She has some terrible illness. And it's not confirmed that this is her mother, but isn't it implied? Either way, Maomao used to be chased out of here by this angry person though it seems she no longer has the energy.

And hold on, I remember a scene from the last time Maomao was in the Verdigris House where granny asked her to tend to what I thought was just an ill courtesan, but perhaps it was this person in the annex.

Maomao's mother patient seems to be in the end stages of her illness. She no longer has energy to even speak. Luomen's once effective treatments don't offer relief, and there is nothing more that can be done. Though she may have been dealing with her decline for a long time Maomao will soon have to deal with the death of her mother. This may not be a healthy relationship, but there will still be grief. We grieve for people even when it's complicated. We also grieve what could have been, what never was. And there is never a good time to lose someone, but certainly some times are worse than others. Much of Maomao's life is uncertain right now, and she just took an emotional blow from her interaction with Jinshi, causing her to dip into the emotions she tries to avoid, now this on top of it. When it rains, it pours.

There is a troublesome customer visiting the Verdigris House. Meimei has been tasked to meet him. How foreboding. It couldn't be Lakan could it? His history with courtesans makes me ill.

Okay so maybe this lady isn't Maomao's mother, maybe she is. Maomao explains that the woman has syphilis. At least Verdigris House takes care of their own. I love that. Luomen may have been able to do something for this woman if he had arrived to serve the brothel during an earlier stage of the illness. There is a flashback here, where we get a glimpse of young Maomao in the brothel. No one trusted the eunuch doctor from no where, even if he could have done something. After contracting syphilis, the lady had to go on serving customers until the sores spread over her whole body, and she was locked up in the annex.

The woman tried to hum a tune, but is unable to to speak. I wonder if Maomao recognizes it.

Little girl: Big sis wanted you to know that the weirdo with the monocle is here, so you should avoid going out there for awhile.

Oh no! It is Lakan! Why is this little girl telling Maomao specifically so she can avoid him? Does he have a history with Maomao at the brothel? I'm trying to recall all of the things that Lakan said about the courtesan he used to visit at Verdigris House. That he could beat her at shogi, but not go. That she never sold herself but that she had an arrogant expression... I mean, I could be looking into it too much, but that... could be Maomao? Did she work as a courtesan here before? Is this why Jinshi is so determined to find out how someone might have reduced the price of a courtesan?! Did he know she used to work here? Does he worry that something terrible has happened to Maomao here? DID IT! Oh my god! It would explain so much about her fear of working as a courtesan, and her trauma. What the fuck happened in this brothel?! And who all knows about it! I demand answers!

I'm going to pull it back a little bit, and return to an earlier theory that Lakan is actually Maomao's biological father. He may have a history with Maomao at the brothel but that may be as a man who was somewhat interested in the daughter he fathered. Understandably, Maomao wants nothing to do with him. We learn here that Maomao knows who Lakan is though. Thank god they didn't run into each other in the palace. Can she really go on avoiding him? He can follow her in the palace or in the Pleasure District.

Maomao refers to Lakan as a long time customer of the Verdigris House, an old acquaintance, but that if she just stays put in the annex, she won't run into him. Okay, but tell me why you don't want to run into him....

Maomao has had a rough day. She's still reeling from her conversation with Jinshi and now she has been trapped all day in the annex with a woman who maybe hates her, so that she can avoid Lakan. She's had nothing to do but think about all the really painful emotions that she usually stays busy to avoid. Meimei finds Maomao hiding out in the annex, and lets her know that Lakan has left. Apparently he has brough up an offer for Maomao?! Maomao hates it, and so do I!

Maomao worries that if she didn't have her job that the madam of Verdigris House would have sold her off to Lakan by now. She thinks that Lakan's interest is the main reason that the madam wants her to become a courtesan. So Lakan is a major contributing factor to why Maomao is so fiercely opposed to being a courtesan. Her terror takes on a new shade of meaning now. If only we knew what has transpired between Maomao and Lakan in the past, we could understand.

Meimei has been given offers to leave the brothel, but has as yet turned them all down. She's getting close to retirement age, but isn't ready for that yet. Maomao asks why she doesn't just leave? To Maomao the freedom to choose would be preferrable to any offer that a customer could make. Maomao thinks that Meimei is holding out for love. Perhaps she is in love with someone already, and is waiting for an offer from that person.

Maomao: Maybe it's love. But if that's the case. It's not a rabbit hole I want to delve into. That's an emotion I'm sure I left behind. Back in the womb of the woman who birthed me.

Nearly every example of romantic love that Maomao has is heartbreaking. She's seen heartbreak after heartbreak in the brothel, with courtesans having promises made to them, and then broken. We don't know the story of her parents, but if her mother is the dying woman in the annex, or if she has died already, then then there is heartbreak in her story as well. Even the concubines in the palace don't have the love of the emperor, instead they merely battle for his attention and favor. The sole example she has seen is that of the concubine who was able to escape the Rear Palace when her military beau was able to secure her release.

Maomao is not open to the idea of love, in fact it is something she tries to avoid, disdains even. This view of love is one of the reasons we have seen her repeatedly shut down any tender emotion she's had, and why she is so willing to read any other explanation when love is directed at herself. And she tells us here, that it stems from her parents. How is she ever going to trust someone enough to love them and be loved in return?

And what a way to talk about one's own mother. "The woman who birthed me." So there is a story there. It sounds like one of abandonment, neglect or abuse, as we've already guessed.

The princesses want to pamper Maomao, and she adores the attention. This girl is so touch starved. I wondered about Maomao's need for physical touch, way back in episode 2 when Jinshi touched Maomao's hair and breathed on her neck. He did it in an effort to try to seduce her, but her reaction was interesting. She didn't get disgusted or freaked out as she did with his flirting. She just kind of let it happen. Now we see it with the courtesans that she considers family. Meimei is scrubbing Maomao's back and she is relaxed and smiling. The courtesans love Maomao so much, I wish she could have this kind of affection all the time.

Hard transition to Jinshi. A man who maybe has never had a hug in his life, except for the back hug he stole from Maomao when he was drunk. He's regretting that his date went so terribly, he didn't mean to give the impression to Maomao that he was trying to hook up with someone. He tells us that it definitely wasn't what he traveled there for, which is really unnecessary. No one who has been watching this show believed he was. I would like for him to tell us what he was up to though.

Maomao has retuned to Jinshi's residence, and Jinshi steels himself to face her. He's embarrassed and knows he's once again put space between them, when all he wants to do is find a way to get closer. Plus, it looks like he's carrying that jug of... beverage that Lakan left. He presents it as a present from a weirdo. Their conversation lacks all of the usual banter, and is perfectly polite, which for these two is a disaster. Jinshi watches her walk away. He's not sure where to even begin to repair this. He's frustrated. Maomao is doing her best to pretend like Jinshi already left. Gaoshun is there listening closely. Suiren is there watching Maomao and wondering what has changed, but knows it's some bullshit because she says:

Suiren: For goodness' sake.

Yeah Suiren. I feel that in my bones. But when I say it there is usually an F bomb in there somewhere.

Maomao is having very complicated feelings about having seen her mother the woman in the annex. It's distracting her from her work. It seems bad, but it's a good sign that Maomao is starting to face her emotions and try to process them, rather than avoid them.

Suiren thinks Maomao's distraction has to do with the master of the residence so she decides it's time to say something. Suiren realizes that hints and subtly don't work so well for Maomao when it comes to herself. She needs very blunt advice, which Suiren provides.

Suiren encourages Maomao to ask Jinshi for some space for her apothecary supplies.

Suiren: You may appear apathetic, but you're keen. You know where you stand, and how to play the game.

Yes! Call her on her bullshit Suiren!

Suiren: Because somebody was born noble doesn't inherently make them any different from you or me.

She's telling Maomao to quit looking at Jinshi as some lofty official, see him as a person.

Suiren: If you view everything in terms of status, then you'll miss opportunities.

Thank you Suiren! Internalize that Maomao. Put it in your head and keep it there.

Maomao has an errand to run at the court pharmacy, and she's delighted. She'll sparkling here. If only Maomao could be employed here.

The odd court lady that smacked Maomao in the head a few episodes back has arrived. Maomao figures that this lady works in the guard house and handles herbs in her job, which is why she had a bitter smell earlier, here I thought she was on drugs. Maomao ponders why the lady dislikes her so much, when they've had so little interaction.

A little casual classism for flavor. The pharmacist bemoans that the court lady is required to come pick up drugs herself. Then realizes he said it in front of Maomao and tries to back track. It's not okay work for a court lady, but fine for servant. That comment right on the heals of Suiren's much better advice about class.

Maomao discovers that the item she was sent to pick up was potato flour and wonders why Jinshi needs it. She pieces together a few things about Jinshi's actions. She suspects his actions are part of a purification ceremony that would be used to perform ceremonial rights. Something a nobleman might do. Something that would be strange for a eunuch to do. I'm tired of this theme. Moving on.

Gaoshun and Jinshi are trying to piece together the mystery of Luomen, but Jinshi can't stop thinking about how things are so distant and confused between himself and Maomao, right now. And just to make sure Jinshi never gets a moments peace, Lakan arrives.

Lakan is in the same house where Maomao is right now, and on the one hand I'm hoping they don't run into each other for Maomao's well being, but on the other hand, let's get this plot moving along. It's time to throw Maomao to the wolves.

Question: why does Lakan bring his own beverage whenever he visits? Is he afraid of being poisoned?

Jinshi isn't even bothering to hide how irritated he is at this visit. That's telling. And maybe a mistake. Or maybe intentional.

Jinshi: It seems to me, that you had engaged in some dirty trickery. Lakan: How very rude. That's rich to hear from a thief like yourself.

Gasp! Jinshi a thief?! Go on!

Oh no! Lakan really was trying to get Maomao. He spent a decade trying to get Maomao? Maomao who is what? All of 17 or 18 here? Has he been trying to get Maomao out of the brothel since she was a child? With good intentions or bad ones? Lakan feels he's been made a fool. He tell Jinshi he's upset with him over this.

Jinshi is worried, pissed, and oh so intent.

Jinshi: So do you want your prize returned?

I'm fairly certain that Jinshi wouldn't do that, and is just moving the conversation to find out Lakan's intentions.

Lakan: Not quite. I will pay whatever it is you ask.

That's... a hell of a look from Jinshi. So intense! Jinshi fucking hates this guy.

Jinshi: And if I refuse?

Lakan: Well then, I suppose there is nothing I can do is there.

Which is a threat to wreck Jinshi's life! It's a declaration of war. Holy shit!

Lakan: How many people could defy a man of your rank? I could count every single one of them on one hand.

The imperial family maybe? Yup that's it. Jinshi knows that Lakan knows his true identity.

Oh my god. Lakan knows everything!

Lakan: I'm just concerned you know. About what my daughter would think.

He's threatening to expose the truth about Jinshi, and hits him where it hurts the most: Maomao. Jinshi was worried that Maomao may be this man's daughter, and Lakan just confirmed as much.

Jinshi is tense. Hands balled into fists, posture wary, as Lakan asks to meet Maomao. This asshole has been following Maomao. First at the brothel and now to Jinshi's residence.

Everyone one of Lakan's moves were so well played, and Jinshi... is trapped. He once again has to make a choice between the obligations of his station and his own personal desires. He can give this official what he is asking for and go on business as usual, after all what is one servant over another? It would be an easy decision for someone else other than Jinshi, if it were about someone else, other than Maomao.

Jinshi looks deep in thought when he comes upon Maomao while the sun is setting. Is something ending here?

Jinshi addresses Maomao as "apothecary." It's respectful in that it acknowledges her for her skills, she may even like being called this, but it's another sign of the distance between the two. I don't know the last time he called her by her name.

Jinshi seems very nervous to bring this up to Maomao. You can hear the tension in his voice. Unusual for Jinshi, when he is usually bold and shameless when interacting with Maomao. It's a sign of just how precarious things are between the two right now. Also, a sign of just how divided Jinshi is about even bringing this suggestion to Maomao.

Jinshi: There's... an official who wants to meet you sometime soon. ... It's...that weirdo I've been telling you about. His name's... Lakan.

A pause. Then a fricking jump scare of Maomao's intense glare! This glare isn't giving Jinshi chills in the fun way. She looks legit scary. It reminds me of a frightened animal that has been backed into a corner and has no choice left but to fight. Lakan is a line she will not cross. An absolute boundary. With one look she declares that there is nothing she won't do to avoid that meeting.

Jinshi: I'll find a way to let him down gently.

Jinshi, Jinshi, Jinshi.... what the hell are you going to do? If you can't convince Maomao to see Lakan, and you won't force her to do it, then your other choice is to go to war with Lakan.

Jinshi: I've never seen her make a face like that. I never want to see it again. Ever.

I hope he means that as I'm going to do everything I can to keep her protect her from Lakan. I hope this is a turning point for Jinshi, where he chooses Maomao in a real way. I hope he won't waver again on this, allowing Lakan room to maneuver Maomao and himself.

Maomao is distressed that Lakan has found her again. She goes to collect medicinal herbs. A familiar and comforting activity.

She is approached by Suirei who cares for the herb garden near the military officers' part of the palace. Maomao questions what Suirei is growing here and Suirei claims she planting a medicine for resurrection?

Maomao has a VERY strong reaction to that. Who has died in Maomao's life that she is that desperate to get back? A family member? Someone she loved? A patient she couldn't save?

Suirei claims to be joking. What a strange lady. Are we absolutely sure she's not on drugs? The music is unsettling in this scene and so is Suirei. She asks how good of an apothecary Maomao is then tells her she's going to plant morning glories here. I happen to know that those are poisonous! Is Suirei hoping to make a poison? Will she try to get Maomao to do it?

The sun is setting over the palace and the music is ominous. Is something serious about to happen in the next episode?

To start at the beginning: Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 19

[sophieinwonderland]

Episode 4 of Responding to the "Sophie is Dangerous Doc": On Genders and Slurs

If you haven't seen my other posts on this:

Episode 1 (Block Evasion Allegations) Episode 2 (All Tibetan Buddhists are Monks) Episode 3 (Survivor's Network) Episode 3.5 (Hate Groups)

Let's just get right into this!

First, just noting that I absolutely H*TE the culture online around censoring sl*rs where this is a t*rrible word nobody should say, BUT it's totally okay if you replace ONE vowel with an asterisk. Mostly because, when reading it in their heads, I'm certain most everyone is going to instantly read the slur as the slur, and it should be just as triggering to those who would be triggered by it. This isn't specifically an issue with the author but more collective st*pidity of the internet.

Here I went through the trouble of, after realizing I had messed up, to at least replace the whole word with "the T-slur" when all I needed to do was write "tr*nny." Silly me. (This is the only time I'll be writing it that way in this post. I just really need to illustrate how stupid I find this whole thing.)

This bare-minimum censorship while being outraged over saying a slur is just a tad too ridiculous to me to take seriously.

Context...

This came about during an argument with someone over the word endogenic. They were arguing, in essence, that because the word "endogenous" may have had vague ties to Freud fakeclaiming trauma, the word "endogenic" was bad because it's the same word.

My point was to illustrate how even if this was true and endogenous was offensive, two words can sound similar and have the same roots with similar literal meanings with one still being offensive and the other not. The example I gave was how trans/transgender are perfectly fine terms while the t-slur is bad despite both having the same roots and literal meanings. Connotations of specific words matter. Not just their roots.

I apologized after seeing how that affected people because I wasn't aware of the severity of the term.

Derogatory terms aren't all equal, and while there are certain pejoratives that you never should say, ever... others are generally acceptable in neutral contexts when not using them as an insult.

My mistake here was not being educated in which category this particular pejorative fell under.

On our gender...

A huge part of this narrative is the idea that I just suddenly for the first time ever decided to identify as genderfluid because I was under fire.

This is, like much of what is said in this document, completely false.

I had previously posted about how being a system with multiple genders makes our system's body more accurately described as genderfluid.

This post was back in August of 2022. Well before the slur discourse in May of 2023.

I believe there were other posts but they're hard to find because Tumblr searches are bad. (I used google to find this one.)

The idea that the body/system is technically genderfluid isn't something I invented out of thin air for that one discussion, but is something that had been on my mind for a long time, and something I had talked about before.

While I won't blame the author for not having an encyclopedic knowledge of every post I ever made. This is yet another instance of accusations and assertions without ever even bothering to confirm if they were true.

This lack of due diligence is a massive theme in the "Sophie is dangerous" document.

If anyone had asked me if I had made public statements referring to our body being genderfluid, I could have answered and provided a source.

In fact, the author quotes me saying that I've always considered the body genderfluid, even highlighting it...

But didn't once think, as any reasonable person would have in this situation, that there may be evidence of this out there.

Instead, the author lazily repeats the lie that this was something new I just suddenly decided for the sake of this one argument.

Transness...

There are a couple problems.

First, let's start with the point near the end about being queer. Because my point was more than that.

It was that genderfluidity is not merely queer, but specifically on the transgender spectrum as seen below:

My position is actually that any system with fronting headmates of a different gender than their AGAB is genderfluid to an extent. And because of this, is on the transgender spectrum. (Regardless of whether they identify as transgender or not.)

Slipper Slopes and Bad Precedents.

This is a ridiculous take meant to try to villainize me. And is a bit of revisionist history at that.

I initially apologized and did explain that the intent was not to reclaim the term, and that I didn't feel comfortable reclaiming it. I stand by that.

I didn't cast myself as a victim over people being upset by it.

After my apology, I listened to numerous transgender systems who were uncomfortable with the topic that arose from that, and uncomfortable with the people taking issue with a girl in an AMAB body using the T-slur.

There is a lot of underlying complexity here that I believe needed to be addressed.

Because simply apologizing without addressing these other issues sets a precedent that I didn't want to be setting.

I wasn't going to let the takeaway from that conversation be "individual headmates can't reclaim slurs, even ones they could be called, unless they directly identify by the specific term for the experiences they have."

I've never been called the T-slur. But as more systems are out publicly and headmates of different genders are expressing their gender, it's likely that they'll be victims of transphobia.

Systems with multiple genders are, as a whole, genderfluid.

Genderfluidity is on the transgender spectrum. Regardless of whether they identify as transgender or not.

And it's pretty weird to try to police the language people on the transgender spectrum use based on whether they specifically call themselves transgender or not.

My biggest problem with the whole discourse around that topic is that it ultimately presents an intrusive ideology that is super concerned with policing the specific terms GNC people use and identify by. And worse, it presents the gender of systems as less important than those who have varying genders for other reasons.

The precedents you set don't exist in a vacuum. The fact is that you are arguing this at the same time that sysmeds have resorted to maliciously misgendering endogenic systems, justifying it under the basis that it's not actual misgendering because the headmate with those genders aren't real.

Something which, if you remember from the previous episode, the OP of the "Sophie is dangerous document" doesn't believes counts as real misgendering.

In the end, it's a very slippery slope from "female headmates in AMAB bodies with gender dysphoria can't reclaim transgender slurs" to "gender discrimination against headmates is totally separate to that faced by trans people and misgendering headmates isn't as bad as misgendering real transgender people."

And this is a slippery slope the author of the document appears to have fallen straight down and crashed face-first on.

[romanticatheartt]

Critique of Feyre in Book 1 kinda drives me up the wall when it falls into the “girlboss bad/not like other girls” line of discussion. Like I can see where some of this comes from: Feyre can be very single-minded and did display contempt for Nesta and Elain that partly stemmed from their use of a more “traditional” femininity heavily rooted in classism that didn’t apply to her, hence the superior attitude.

However, this criticism ignores so much context and character growth, being a) Feyre’s upbringing and how she was excluded from partaking in this type of femininity because she was deemed unworthy by her mother, a sentiment echoed by Nesta calling Feyre a “half-wild beast”; b) Feyre being the provider for her family and adapting a more practical mindset very young (how can you be bothered with being “not like other girls” when your survival is on the line?), and her frustration that her sisters wouldn’t contribute more even when she reached out; c) Feyre slowly embracing more “feminine” aspects once she’s in Prythian and no longer in danger of starvation; and d) Feyre returning to her sisters with a kinder outlook, having tempered some of her pride and learning that there is merit to being soft (see: her acceptance of Elain’s quiet strength!!).

People who say Feyre was better/they enjoyed book 1!Feyre are also weird tf out of me since she was at her lowest.

Book 1!Feyre lived in a stressful environment, where even her cabin/home wasn't a source of peace for her. And tbh, I relate to her at this stage of my life. Outside of your house, you're constantly stressed by others, your job and your university… then you come home and nothing changes, only the problems like your family dynamic.

She was already struggling to be the sole breadwinner of the house, her sisters refused to partake in it (for whatever reason which we're not here to talk about, we want to talk about Feyre's perspective), their father has depression and after all these years is still grieving the loss of his wife and wealth. And she would come home to one of her sisters looking at her bloody hands with disgust, the other telling her she smells of pig and a father who's semi-responsive. I would be bitter af too!! I wouldn't want to do anything for myself let alone be pretty and appreciate my femininity or being more calm, open-minded and softer to others.

Feyre was in fight-or-flight mode all the time. She wasn't having the time of her life lmao. The Feyre we saw wasn't the real Feyre she wanted to be; that was what her circumstances demanded of her.

And even in Spring Court, she held some part of her personality to herself. I might be wrong but this is the feeling I got from her when she was living there during acotar, so you don't have to agree with me but in spring court she always got belittled for being human. I constantly got this vibe from Spring Court and since her pov is first person she always felt so out of place and she considered herself "only" a weak human.

So yeah the Feyre they're talking about is also the person who wasn't completely comfortable with herself, didn't see herself as beautiful, her sister's voice was in her head whenever she had a negative thought of herself, and well she never felt love before so the moment she finds a little bit of peace with someone, she latch on to him without even noticing that he said she doesn't need to do anything because he would do everything for her even before UtM. At that time she thought that's what she needed but after a time even if the events of UtM hadn't happened she would've felt trapped by him. (I'm seeing it everyday in my daily life with the women around me)

And well I'm not gonna talk about UtM and what she went through. If they enjoy a tortured Feyre and not a happy one then... I have nothing to say to them.

[diagonal-queen]

hey girlyyyy ❗❗❗ why do i feel like im bothering you when its quite literally just a request box🧍

but anyway !!! Following with the previous request of meeting with chuuya after years. Can i ask for like, a glimpse of their relationship? Like they're keeping it a secret from both their agencies so they have to be sneaky to meet each other like silly little lovers💗🤞😭😭

sakjhjkhfahfsh oh my god nahhh the sillies 🙈 you are never bothering me by sending me an ask. i am a pathetic and lonely creacher and i kick my silly little legs and let out my horrendus little giggles whenever someone sends me an ask. i am elated every time.

Star-Crossed

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: Romeo and Juliet, but you and Chuuya aren't as fucking stupid as those kids were. (sorry, I'm just having a goof- you and Chuuya are navigating secretly dating while being members of opposing groups)

♡ wc: 1.6k

♡ cw: Reader and Chuuya flirt and talk about sex (they're a couple guys. C'mon now), swearing.

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYA!! Good timing for me to finish this one hey? lol I hope you enjoy it! Apologies for errors- maybe I should write a Chuuya birthday thing?

Part 1 (you don't have to read it but it provides context for this)

Chuuya had gotten there before you. He was sitting on a bench across the footpath from the restaurant, absentmindedly on his phone. It was no fancy place, one may say casual or even rustic. But once, a long time ago as teenagers, Chuuya had taken you there one evening when you were feeling down and you'd enjoyed yourself enough to decide that it would be a good place to go back to. Maybe get the same meals as that time, and recreate some cherished memories.

You stood around the corner of the block, making sure that there weren't too many witnesses around. You'd gone through a world of effort to conceal your relationship with the mafioso. You'd changed his contact name, turned off your notifications and even made sure to eradicate all traces that you two spent time together, which hurt the most of all. You felt that just a simple picture of the two of you wasn't asking too much.

The two of you seldom contacted one another during work hours. Considering the Agency tended to work within the daytime while the Port Mafia took over the night, you didn't have much time to communicate with one another, much less meet up in person. When you did, you both had to be cautious that none of your coworkers were around. It had gotten exhausting rather quickly, but the two of you continued to try nonetheless.

Weekends were really the only days that you could sometimes see one another. That's why, on an overcast Sunday, you and Chuuya had decided to go on a lunch date together. You were mostly sure that you wouldn't be bumping into any other Agency members, and yet you scurried along the street like a cautious mouse.

You called his name, and when he turned and saw you he smiled.

"How are you?" You asked him as you approached. He stood up and pulled you into his embrace once you reached him.

"I'm glad to see you, baby."

"You ought to be! It took so much effort to get here without rousing suspicion," you whined, pulling away and squeezing his shoulders. Chuuya cocked an eyebrow at you.

"Huh? Have you told them anything?"

"They're detectives, Chuu!" you responded, giving him a nudge. "It's hard to keep a secret when you're surrounded by detectives all the time. I'm pretty sure Ranpo knows already- or at least he's caught on to the fact that I'm seeing someone."

"...who?"

"Y'know, the one with the hat and cape...he trapped you in a book once?" Chuuya pursed his lips and nodded. "He's a genius."

"I know," he sighed. "At least Dazai doesn't know...probably."

"Nah, he doesn't," you confirmed, "If he did, he'd have brought it up with me by now. And I dunno how I'm gonna approach that conversation at all."

"Just give me a call when it happens. I'll beat the shit out of him," he muttered, sourly. You giggled, pulling him back into your arms.

"I can always count on you, can't I?"

"'Course you can, babe," he pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Sorry you gotta go through all that, by the way."

"I can't imagine it's much easier in the Port Mafia? Y'know, to be dating an Agency member."

"Eh, it's not so bad when you're an executive." He shrugged with a sigh. You cast him a mischievous grin.

"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you're all authoritative and strong like that," you teased. Chuuya blinked, before he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Forgetting? Maybe I should jog your memory." You narrowed your eyes at his suggestive tone.

"Oh? How so?" You smirked. Chuuya tapped his lips.

"Hm...got any more kinks I don't know about?"

"Keep it in your fuckin' pants, Chuu!" You laughed, swatting his arm. "Imagine if there were children here."

"If you keep encouraging me there might well be," he retorted, and you gasped.

"You're a goddamn menace." Chuuya chuckled at your blunt statement. "Ah...anyway, we should go inside. We'd be less conspicuous that way, and we've been loitering around here long enough as is."

He nodded, and you both went inside. After entering the door Chuuya opened for you, the scent of the place filled your nostrils and it was like you'd visited for the first time. You stood in the entranceway for a moment, a small smile formed on your lips.

"Something wrong?" Chuuya asked, passing you and shutting the door. You shook your head.

"No, nothing's wrong," you quickly replied before taking a step forward. "It's just...been a while."

"...it has, yeah," Chuuya agreed, placing his hand on your back. "Glad to be back here."

~ ~ ~

Fifteen minutes flies by so fast when you're enjoying your time. Fifteen minutes with Chuuya felt more like fifteen seconds. You'd ordered your food, caught up on each others' recounts of the past week, Chuuya made an obligatory complaint about Dazai, and then Chuuya's phone rang twice.

The first time he'd just ignored it, and you'd tried to do the same, but the second time he let out an aggravated breath and pulled it out of his pocket, eyes briefly flickering towards the screen which you didn't have the time to get a good peek at. Chuuya glanced at you, both apparently frustrated and apologetic.

"Sorry, hon. I have to take this one, but I'll make it quick, alright?"

"It's okay, don't worry about it." You smiled as you said this, but your facade dropped once he disappeared to take the call. You didn't blame Chuuya for being busy, but lamented the fact that the two of you couldn't seem to spend any amount of time together uninterrupted. It was almost as if everybody really did know about your relationship and were doing all they could to keep it apart.

He was back before long, taking his seat across from you at the table and letting out an exhale.

"Did something bad happen?"

"Nah, just got into a bit of an altercation. Managed to sort it out though, so it's fine. Nothing to worry about." Chuuya placed his hand atop yours. "Where were we?"

"...I think you were bitching again. About Dazai?" You replied, balancing your hand on your palm with a grin.

"'Again'?"

"Yep. It's your favourite thing to do, right?"

"Besides you..." he mused, and you bit back a laugh. "I'd say so. But I can't help it. You know that best, don'tcha?"

"He's still lazy at the Agency. In fact, he's probably gotten worse. Sometimes I have to physically force him to come with me when we have jobs together," you rolled your eyes. "That being said though, he can be so overbearing sometimes, fuck's sake."

"Eh, if I were him I'd be protective of you too. Maybe the single thing I can't blame him for, actually," Chuuya scowled, taking a sip of water. "Wish I could spend as much time with you as he does, though. That might be nice..."

As you acknowledged that sentiment, an idea popped into your head. You suddenly sat upright.

"You and I should go on a trip. A road trip, or a vacation or something like that."

"A trip?" He repeated, confused.

"Mm. We wouldn't have to worry about anybody seeing us, and we'd be able to relax and actually spend time together," you explained. "We could even just...go camping or something. That's not that expensive, right? We'd have to travel pretty far, though..."

"I'd be willing to go anywhere as long as you're there," Chuuya shrugged. You turned to him, before smiling.

"That's adorable of you, sweetie."

"Money wouldn't be an issue. It's the time I'm worried about, and how we'd both be able to leave at the same time without suspicion," he continued.

"I just called you adorable and you're gonna go ahead and ignore me?" You scowled, folding your arms over your chest. "I see how it is."

"Aw, sorry babe. I didn't mean for it to come across like that," he apologised, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckle. "I'm just concerned, that's all."

"I know, I get it..." you gave him a sad smile. "I wish we didn't have to be like this. I get so jealous when I see couples together out and about. I want that to be us!"

"Maybe one day. Just...not today though. Neither of us can afford it right now, y'know?" He murmured. "I would want absolutely everybody around me to know that you're my partner. If it wouldn't put you in danger, I mean."

"You're that proud of me, huh?" You queried, rubbing your thumb over Chuuya's gloved hand. He looked at you as if that were a stupid question.

"'Course I am. I can't really show it now, but I promise I am," he answered sincerely, staring into your eyes. "Okay?"

"...I'll choose to believe you for now," you replied, sarcastically. "But one day you better prove it in the most dramatic and flamboyant way possible, got it?"

Chuuya smiled. "I'd give you the whole world if you asked for it, Y/N."

"Oh, maybe that's a little too dramatic," you hastily replied. "...maybe we should just stick to dinner dates for now, m'kay?"

"Whatever you'd like, baby. I'll just save the world for another time."

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fedyushka, @flower-of-darkness

and thank you @bibilovedit for the request!

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Stuff I did in a full set of Regency era clothing yesterday:

walked several kilometres

travelled on public transport, a coach (not the horse-drawn kind, alas) and a long distance train

jogged through a busy central station

danced

ate a not inconsiderable plate of chips (or fries, depending where you come from)

Won a round of Uno

On a more serious note, what I realise is that the argument that [insert historical garment of your choice] is impractical truly is a misconception.

You often see it in (historical) fiction with women ditching their allegedly restrictive bust support garments or long skirts in favour of trousers to 'come into their own' and pursue some sort of adventure, and that always disheartens me, because all it does is showing that the author clearly didn't bother reading up on the fashion of the time they're portraying, or maybe even take the time to talk to costumers or look at extant or reproduction garments.

Naturally, we're not talking about exaggerated court fashions here, clothes that were only worn in this one specific context (which is why we often have surviving examples of those; they were worn with care, and rarely), but almost any historical era's everyday wear can be comfy to wear for modern people.

All it takes is some getting used to how to dress yourself, and how to move in these specific garments.

There are of course spaces today that are not designed to be used by people in, say, panniers or hoop skirts as they are not part of present-day every day life, but as far as your personal comfort goes, you can absolutely achieve that with well-fitting garments (you wouldn't feel comfy in a size 8 or 20 if you're a size 12 buying modern clothes, either, right?).

Once you've learned how to move in the clothes of your choice, they feel as 'normal' as modern-day clothes to you. Short stays are no more comfortable or uncomfortable to me than a bra, and I can walk, even run, just as fast in a floor-length gown as I can in trousers.

Neither historical, nor modern clothes are inherently 'good' or 'bad', but wearable, provided you like and feel well in your clothing, and that's about all there is to it.

[nitunio]

Ryou and Riku Are The Same! (just differently)

In the latter half of Third Beat of IDOLiSH7 Ryou approaches Riku (after countless of hours spent researching and watching him) with a thought-provoking sentence: You and I are the same. I'm you and you're me.

To a normal i7 fan it might come off as a stretch or as one of the infinite amounts of Ryou's manipulations BUT hear me (Tsukumo Ryou pfp) out...

UNDER THE CUT. IT GOT REALLY LONG.

Ryou was raised emotionally abused/neglected by parents (calling himself an "overlooked talent", mentioning to Shiro that his family hated him) which led to all of this (vague hand gesture). And to Ryou's knowledge Riku suffered just about the same — but what Ryou knows is only the surface of what was happening to Riku.

While looking at Riku's "abandoned by family" the initial assumption is that they did Not like him or even neglected him — which is the assumption that Ryou makes since it's the most likely one, which leads to him making the comment in the first place. But we as an audience know that everything about surface-level information is coated with layers of nuance.

Riku is loved by his parents, and adored, protected and always pampered by his brother. All of the attention of this world was given to Riku — in a deep contrast to Ryou being constantly overlooked by his relatives. Yet since Ryou doesn't have insight into the inner relationships of the family he doesn't see how different they are.

Then how are they the same?

Both lack and abundance of attention can cause the same kinds of traits to manifest — selfishness, seeking attention, constantly proving oneself to others — as well as give near-identical core beliefs.

Riku has the ability to connect to other people's hearts, one that was prevalent in his childhood, with receiving love from a giving brother and parents. Riku draws people in, to feel the sense of connection, collective emotion that's dependent on its center (Riku). (Insert Iori's analysis here, but basically — if Riku were to need anything, all people affected would rush to provide it, selflessly without any regard for their own safety/emotion)

Ryou has the ability to read people, which was, and I'm speculating on the material given, a vital thing in his childhood since the lack of emotion/presence made him far and distant from people's experiences, but very close to knowing How people Work. Ryou draws people in, in the sense of knowing how to make them walk into his grip, to manipulate for own gain later. (If Ryou needed anything — he'd make all people affected get it for him, without any regard for their own safety/emotion)

And to that extent, both of them are monsters.

And when Ryou notices Riku, he connects with him too, but on a deeper level than anybody else. Riku to him is like a younger version of himself he can still save (hence the "I'll protect you" thing he said, and generally his tone and expressions dramatically shift to more sincere ones than the voices and expressions he does for Momo/other people), because Riku is both still young and hasn't had as much disappointment with other people as him.

But in spite of Ryou thinking that Riku and he are the same, Ryou doesn't have what Riku has.

He barely gets noticed (pt3 ep1, he is not doing anything loudly and weirdly in public, and naturally doesn't get noticed. or when he does it's in context of bothering Momo), which leads to grander and more dangerous outbursts over time (in contrast to Riku, who is, by design, more vibrant and noticeable, as well as a magnet for people, and the attention he gets increases with more joy and fun and popularity of i7).

All of the people Ryou was with, at one point or another abandoned him (IDOLiSH7 as a group consists of people all of which (except Riku, I think) thought about quitting but ultimately didn't, and the journey to the conclusion made the bonds even stronger).

And both of these points lead to weirdness, coldness and sadism on Ryou's part — which to a larger extent turn people away from Ryou and make them hate him even more.

And the speed at which this hate happens matches the speed of Riku receiving more and more love in First Beat. And the core reasons for which all of Ryou's plan happens Match Riku's core reasons.

Riku is selfish — it's about him proving himself to his brother (and to the entire world, for that extent), about him having fun, about him being loved and appreciated For What He Can Do and Not Being Underestimated, about him being in the center of it (the whole Perfection Gimmick thing is the proof of it).

Ryou is selfish — it's about him proving his skills to his family ("i'm [insert skill] yet they still kept choosing my older brother"), about him getting his revenge, about him being noticed as he stands atop of the now useless and hated idol corpses, about him being in the center of it.

Riku craves attention and love to the same extent Ryou does, and Ryou feels like people overlook him and his capabilities to the same extent Riku does.

And what Ryou read through Riku, and what Riku felt through Ryou, is mutual, both of them the same, even if they're different.

_________________________

Tangents I went off on that felt like they didn't fit in the text:

Riku and Ryou are ZOOL

What Antagonistic Quartet establishes is that Ryou, in one way or another, relates to/resembles all members of ZOOL in their fears and insecurities (rich of him to mock them for being dependent on external validation when deep down he is the same).

But, applying the Riku = Ryou to it, you can see that Riku pretty much connects to ZOOL in this way too. He wants revenge (on Kujo Sr.) (as Haruka), he wants for people to Have expectations of him and not just be worried about him (as Torao), he wants to keep singing with teammates for fans who will cheer him on (as Touma), he wants to keep pursuing what he wants to (as Minami)...

And while Riku is a manifestation of these wants that gets presented with IDOLiSH7's innocence and fun, ZOOL shows the audience the uglier and more aggressive side of it, which is valid in its openness and sincerity. And they coexist well.

Chaos, Zero and black holes

Fuck! So, Riku = Ryou and Riku = Zero. You see where this is going.

Zero in his hurried leave left chaos and uncertainty, and by Kujo Sr.'s concerns, Riku, with the same ability to influence other people, might turn out the same. I honestly don't remember where I was going with this. I wrote this bullet point at 5 AM and I'm looking back at it with a confused expression.

The Ryou thing is too vague

What we know of Ryou is limited to imagination and thoughts based on what he (and others) share about him. These points:

He was not a "family pet" (mentioned by himself in antagonistic quartet section 2)

His family didn't love him (mentioned by Shiro and himself, Momo too iirc)

highlight that he is vastly different from Riku, then how did he make such a good assessment of character?

As antagonistic quartet shows, Ryou can not only dig up surface-level information, but also background info as well.

(in AQ we see that he Does dig deep to strike the most painful spot. also another tangent -- how. how did he find 4 talented people. did he consistently go and scan for them with his people-reading skills only to (obvious in Haruka's case) stalk them until they're at their worst??? to provide a helping hand??? BUT ALSO. to know that at one point of time there were people that experienced the same kind of pain as he did. and many more felt seen and heard by ZOOL's songs after that. im going to cry. he did connect. in his own way)

SO, continuing on Riku, he probably Had asked people who worked at Nanase family's place or were close to them and found out all about the relationship they had. Let's entertain the thought of him going this deep and Knowing that Riku and he, in fact, were not treated the same by their families.

My ultimate Reach with this is that it either A. didn't matter to him when the end is the same - being abandoned (which was a recurring thing to Ryou) or B. twisted itself into an even unhealthier connection.

point A is obvious. point B:

Ryou's family Did do good things for him. like, Zero concert. listen there's not many examples and this is my "reach" segment i get to. i get to reach. But even in its good it was bad behind the scenes. And since he can't literally intrude inside Riku's head he can't really know if what others said about his relations with family was true or just keeping appearances of a happy family.

So, how is their friendship going to pan out?

I feel like even if Momo didn't exist as an obstacle it just wouldn't pan out for them. Momo and Riku share the same sentiment of having complicated feelings towards a person (Banri and Tenn respectively), which don't reach Ryou's calculating heart. (It's easier to hide away Banri and bury Tenn into the ground than confront feelings that may require one to reflect on own concerns and emotions)

And even then, Ryou is very quick to change gears if anything unpleasant happens (which would just quickly lead to unproductive destruction, as it did with Momo -- and it also happened with Riku because that "I'll protect you" changed into "You too will betray me"). I feel like in pt 4 the development they had while barely interacting in person amounts to a greater effect because both recognize the abilities that they have, and Riku gets to tell him a piece of his mind.

yes ryou idols can be selfish and dreaming in itself is selfish. dreaming can lead to hurting others and being hurt. but its okay

it's also something that they share in that aspect -- ryou is afraid of being hurt (even in his coldness he is fragile) and riku is afraid of hurting others (even in his selfishness he wants people to be happy)

_________________________

anyways,

NPD flag colour-picked from their colours (3 from each, only picked from hair/eyes, not clothes)

[modrew71extra]

Right, never thought I had to make one of these callouts in my entire time of using social media, but unfortunately due to the seriousness of the subject matter at hand, I have to get this out here to prevent more people being mislead.

Now for a lot of people who follow artist Tumblr might be aware of this one thread circulating in regards to people using Glaze & Nightshade in response to the recent updates made to Tumblr's data services. With the posting in question, @ reachartwork discouraging use of it and presenting an argument for it.

Now unlike most other people, I can tell how off their argument is as it lacked the nuance of how these programs worked and talked about it in a way that came off more enthusiastic, despite their claims of having sympathies people trying to protect themselves.

It's only until I took one little look at their blog and knew what was up, and their later behaviour proved my suspicions.

Now to get this right off the bat, I do apologise for whatever misgendering I exhibited as I didn't notice that about them, nor am I justifying this callout to harass them.

So please don't

Rather, it's to be weary of this user, and how you really shouldn't be sleeping on these programs.

Now as the original featured, it went out in presenting their argument as followed:

As you can notice in the thread, it's providing very little evidence of their findings of its supposed workings without proper sources, while trying to show ways to work around it (again, enthusiastically mind you).

And yet as you notice, they didn't bother providing an alternative way to combat this scalping situation everyone is in, especially with how replies have been of users expressing their grievances over this.

You'll think that maybe you should have added something to help others or worded themselves in a more sympathetic manner?

But that's when I checked into their profile and knew what seems to be up,

They're into this tech.

I knew this was clear propaganda, why would somebody who is invested into generative tech try and discourage methods in protecting others of data scalping?

Like I'm sorry but you can't be somebody who claims to be sympathetic about the whole power imbalance this whole field is causing, yet enthusiastically be into this tech. Those mixture of ideologies just do not match.

There's no such thing as "ethical AI use" for this tech.

Now upon knowing many were falling prey to this nonsense, I had to step in and present my own counter arguments and why they are so wrong. Both programs Q&A (along with demonstrations of it acting as written) thay explains the inner workings of it as thoroughly as possible:

https://nightshade.cs.uchicago.edu/whatis.html

(Paper is in QA)

https://people.cs.uchicago.edu/~ravenben/publications/pdf/glaze-usenix23.pdf

https://twitter.com/zer0int1/status/1749574897179742353

Now comes the part when things get more heated

After I posted my retort, this is the response I got:

A) Again, while I didn't intend disrespect for their gender, "AI-bro" has literally become a catch-all for us who are against the very people who are engaged in this field

B) Since when in my original argument that I did try to villainize the entirety of programmers in general? My wording was superficially against those in that field of ML tech who are for this tech.

C) Trying to spin my own findings with proper context and immaturely handwave it by boiling it down as me going "nuh uh" is making you look childish, the info I provided literally explains the very points they argued.

D) Reason I blocked them straight away is because I knew a lot of these pro-AI tend to be very combative when it comes to criticism, I felt it in my gut that they were going to do so first. And later on other factors of their character proved my point.

Like I'm sorry, you really think me not having a degree of X matter is somehow making me a worst person and that I shouldn't be allowed to voice criticism of something?

Just because somebody is in the field of something, doesn't automatically mean they have the best interests to heart.

And here's my confirmation that like a lot of these AI enthusiasts, they're very sensitive & combative.

Now not too long, I decided to try to reblog my argument on another reblog of the artist @ Kang-Bang as they have a bigger artist presence, while they fortunately did realize what the OP they were quickly blocked upon reblogging my own post:

But it wasn't that confirmed that behaviour.

I found out through a conversation I had with somebody on the server of artist-rights advocate Zakugu Mignon, that this individual had a similar encounter with this user a year ago on Twitter (I'm Hollow btw);

And here's the conversation this person had that led to this similar experience:

https://twitter.com/Acfusi/status/1691261322988527617

Notice a familiar pattern of behaviour?

The unfortunate pattern behaviour that these pro-AI types are once again present.

It's always trying to justify the usage of this succeeding.

Now look, I'm not against the idea of the physical unabled being given the ability to produce creations of their own with the help technology means nor do I think that Artificial Intelligence is inherently bad.

But this generative tech is just doing it all the wrong way.

It's by all intentions & purposes, displace hard working people as cheaply and quickly as they can.

It has unfortunately happened to certain working sectors such as journalism, advertisement and translations as we speak.

Now on the topic of whether or not you use Glaze or Nightshade.

Please don't drop it

Now yes it's not a panchea for the societal problems we're currently facing.

But you shouldn't just leave whatever you post online out in the open without any forms of protection is not the wisest route to take.

As the Q&A already shown, it at least offers some way to ensure a means of sabotage data scalping.

There are still many other creatives and general users utilizing these programs for good reason, and WHY they're desperate for a means of protection.

https://www.tumblr.com/astraskylark/741393628982886400?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/leahfrog/743484550954598400/theres-also-nightshade-if-you-havent-heard?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/thetreetopinn/738157011350470656/ill-say-what-ive-said-in-the-past-ai-art-can-be?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/in-ravenlight/743565614387494913?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/luimnigh/743036171813273600/what-is-this-about-the-tumblr-staff-wanting-to?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/taikova/738369881482919936?source=share

Yes, I understand there's some skepticism going around and we're all frightfully confused about what to do in these uncertain times.

But please.

Don't skim out on a solution to offer some forms of protection.

Having a little protection is better than having none.