#yes even is one of those persons that like to keep an aesthetic for his insta

[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

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WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

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“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.  This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!

Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation

Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.

Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.

✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.

✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.

✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.

✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part.  He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.

✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.

✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.

✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.

✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

NSFW:

✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly,  cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.

“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.

✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.

“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"

✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.

✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.

✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,

“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."

[haeryna]

in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.

tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.

notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune

"You look like shit."

You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.

"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"

You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."

You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."

"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."

"Shoko!"

But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"

"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."

As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."

"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.

"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.

"Hey, is everything okay? I-"

Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"

Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.

Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.

Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.

Suguru,

My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?

I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.

I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.

Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.

Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.

Another.

I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.

Another.

I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.

More. More. More.

I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?

He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.

I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.

I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.

I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.

I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.

It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.

It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.

Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.

"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"

"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"

The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"

Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"

Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"

Stunned, you can only nod.

"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.

"Where was the dress?"

From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?

"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.

What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?

White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.

So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.

Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-

Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.

"I missed you."

Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."

"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."

[lotusarchon]

I heard you write for POC? Could you write some sfw and nsfw headcanons of wukong reacting to the reader wearing waist beads, I don't think waist beads is very common in china so maybe it's his first time seeing them?

back to the kitty cause she's kinda pretty (sun wukong x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), info gathered from wikipedia so may not be accurate completely, reader is of african descent (trini specifically because yes 🇹🇹), fluffy headcanons, sun wukong being curious as ever, nsfw headcanons, minors + ageless blogs DNI, gentle sex, p in v, cowgirl position, mild breeding kink

author's notes: okay so imma bfr right: this is the first time I've genuinely heard of waist beads, like ever, so Wukong here is a reflection of my own surprise and interest too

SFW;

𐙚 I can personally see Wukong being genuinely intrigued when you bring them up the first time. Mind you, he's never been beyond China and while he has borderline visited India on occasion, that really is about the limit he's done on traveling with his free time. So, naturally, his interest is piqued when you mention them.

𐙚 Wukong's the type of guy to ask you a lot of questions when curious. Though you haven't shown him the waist beads due to cultural reasons, he asks you a lot of questions, like what are their purpose, what do the symbolize, how are they made, etc. It's a good thing he has an amazing memory, but you have to pray he gives you a break between questions. (Which, knowing Wukong, might genuinely be never.)

𐙚 He gives you such a puppy eyed stare to see those waist beads 🥺 please show him, he's just so curious, and you love him, don't you? Don't you wanna show him your pretty waist beads? Pretty please?

𐙚 Dear god he's practically in awe. He wants to touch them so bad―he finds the uniqueness of the chosen gems and your favorite seashells handcrafted by your mother to be gorgeous. The way they settle against your skin and rustle when you move, gods he just wants to touch so bad, but at the same time, he respects you and wouldn't do anything that might make you sad.

𐙚 Consider him surprised when he finds out that in some cultures, the waist beads are intended to be seen only by your significant other. When you confirm he's the first, he is thrilled. To know that you trust him enough to show him…dear god this man is jumping up and down with utter glee. He is not shutting up about it and might also beat up anyone that asks to see it.

𐙚 If it was possible, Wukong would beg you to let him wear one too. He finds them cute and even aesthetically appealing, especially knowing that you don't need them to be all fancy looking or rich. Too bad he's not a girl…

NSFW;

𐙚 Watch him go from sad he can't wear one to intrigued when he finds out in (Igbo) culture, not only does a groom have to give his bride a Mgbájí (waist beads) to ensure her attire is complete, but it's pleasing to watch as the bride dances to her new husband.

𐙚 Well, you know Wukong. Till death till you both part, and he has zero intention of parting with you. You're both practically married at this, point, so wouldn't you love him enough to put on a dance for him, as good wife should?

𐙚 Of course, if you didn't want too, he wouldn't have forced you, but when you wholeheartedly agreed with his request, Wukong thought his dick was gonna bust through his pants.

𐙚 The way the beads looked against your dancing figure, your alluring smile…gah, did he mention how much he loves you? Because, he does, and once you're within grabbing distance he yanks you forward and smooches you so hard.

𐙚 Don't expect to have those waist beads removed, oh hell no. Wukong insists you keep them on, and while he strips you bare, he ensures they're not even hurt by his actions. He wants to see them on your body while he fucks you.

𐙚 His cock literally throbs inside you while you ride him, and the shift of your waist beads while his hands squeeze your ass and your arms are wrapped around his neck are enough to send him over the edge. It genuinely takes a lot for him not to just bend you over right then and there, because he likes watching the beads shift against your body while you bounce on him.

𐙚 Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear he mutters something about knocking you up? And getting you another pair of waist beads to match the one you were gifted with from your mother? Something about you being so utterly divine in this moment, the idea of stuffing you to the brim with his cum and having you as his wife forever and ever..?

𐙚 Long story short, Wukong gives you a baby and keeps his word about granting you another pair of waist beads with pretty flower seeds and shells. Yay.

@lotusarchon, 26.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[justasecretflower]

~🪻 sdv men as boyfriends headcanons ~

Incl- Alex, Elliot, Shane, Sam, Sebastian, Harvey, Willy, Gunther, M. Rasmodius (Wizard.)

You look lost, visit my garden?

Alex

- He’s the type that’ll make you become apart of his workout. Lemme explain..

- he kisses you in between every push-up and crunch.

- you sit on his back during pushups

- he sees how many times he can deadlift you. (It doesn’t matter what size you are, yes, he can deadlift you.)

- “babe” “baby” “sugar”

- D1 YAPPER.

- he’ll talk your ear off about his childhood, gridball, his feelings when he first met you.

- he’s GREAT to have conversations with because they keep going on for hours.

- when he cuddles you he like..crushes you. He always ends up snoring loudly, drooling on you, and his whole muscular body right on top of you.

- touchy touchy TOUCHYYY.

- he’s the type to run up to you and spin you around then hug you saying how much he missed you. Even if you’ve only been gone for like 5 minutes

- he doesn’t cry often, thinks it makes him weak, but the one day that you got him crying in your arms, your fingers in his hair and quietly whispering that it was okay, he literally fell in love again x2 harder.

Elliot

-…🙄

-CORNYYYYYY

- you alr saw that coming though.

- writes you poems and puts them under your pillow like a tooth fairy..

- he likes holding you. Makes him feel like he’s a protector.

- romantic home dinner dates with balloons, rose petals galore, candles, fancy table cloth, ect.

- love language is words of affirmation muahaha..

- “my love” “my dearest” “my darling”

- tells you everyday how much he loves you in old Shakespearen English

- slow dances in the living room with you.

Shane

- he’s really insecure and gets jealous easily.

- it’s like. You’re talented, hard working, beautiful, how could you ever like him?

- in his eyes, he was old, washed up, no longer a fit gridball player, alcoholic, suicidal.

- he distances himself from you whenever he has these episodes.

- it’s really bad, he knows, but he doesn’t want you to know how insecure and helpless he is.

- you do find out, and you hold him.

- his safe space, his savior, is you.

- he gets better for you, for himself, and for everyone around him and he constantly tells you how much you’ve saved him.

- “doll”

- he gets a new coat and has your initial on it with a heart (Marnie sewed it)

- DAD BOD.

- movie nights. Not those aesthetic ones. The messy ones.

- the ones where you have dirty plates on the floor, pizza rolls, a bag of candies in between you and popcorn on the couch.

- it’s comfy, and it’s fun either way.

Sam

- he’s so cute.

- “babe” “baby”

- DEFINITION of golden retriever bf

- skateboards over to your house.

- he gets cuteness agression😭.

- he just randomly, aggressively, nuzzles your shoulder, or pecks a thousand kisses all over your face.

- makes songs for you and sings them to you.

- his favorite place to kiss you is your shoulder. Not even sexually he just loves kissing your shoulder.

- teaches you how to skate so that you can skate with him.

- he’d def be that cliche that’s like. Tried to flirt with you by leaning on the doorway but missed the doorway💀 (SAME WITH ALEX)

- He likes skating dates, MESSY cooking dates, and playing just dance with you.

- owns an “I love my girlfriend” t-shirt and wears it all the time. No shame

Sebastian

- kisses the tips of your ears and nose.

- very soft and gentle kisses.

- black cat …muahahhaaha

- he likes to make bracelets with you!

- matching bracelets

- also, matching pjs

- movie nights are the best with him. Matching pjs, snacks, cuddles, the rain pattering in the background.

- he’s a listener, not a talker.

- he said he can listen to you talk for days.

- of course, he mumbled that while flushed but he still said it.

- you’re his comfort person.

- he gets insecure but he doesn’t project it on you, just gets extra clingy.

Harvey

- HARVEY!!!

- he gets flushed easily if you flirt with him.

- he goes on rambles about medical stuff and it just 😩

- takes care of you while you’re sick. Carries you to a bath with salts and bubbles in it, cuts up fruits, feeds you, helps you drink water, dab a cold rag on your forehead.

- he’s super romantic, makes you dinner sometimes and makes it healthy / canon

- kisses your forehead to get you to wake up in the morning.

- breakfast in bed on your anniversary.

- he’s a family man / canon

- give him a picket fence life /srs

- he likes kissing you deeply. Just pouring his whole heart into it.

Willy

- he likes fishing with you, if you don’t know how, he’ll stand behind you and guide you.

- “darlin” “hon” “pretty thing”

- puts your initial on his favorite fishing pool.

- he likes you sitting on his lap, just because he likes to be close to you.

- date nights on the beach, or on his fishing boat watching the stars together.

- OH GOSH THE QUIET MORNINGSSSS

- he gets up “bright and early” so he just holds you, whispers in your ear with a raspy morning voice, gently kissing your shoulder “g’mornin pretty thing”

- really values quality time, even if you’re not talking just sitting near him while he’s fishing.

- definitely thought he was gonna stay single until he died before he met you, like he wasn’t even being pessimistic, just thought that he wouldn’t find anyone in that small town.

Gunther

- I feel like he would’ve messed around when he was younger but never settled down.

- so when he moved to pelican town, he never expected to meet someone that would make him wanna be all lovey dovey and stuff.

- teaches you about history. His head in your lap, hand up to your cheek gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as he yaps on, with a deep, smooth voice.

- remembers everything about you. Every detail even if you were just mentioning it in passing.

- “hon” “my darling” “love”

- date nights are those little missing persons cases (the fake ones), discussing history under a willow tree, taking small naps intertwined I

- prolly has a kid from a hookup…sorry?!

- not much for physical affection, but he’ll indulge a little, hand holds, cheek kisses, kisses.

- his love language is acts of service 100%.

M. Rasmodius Wizard

- he kinda watches you with his magic..not creepily !!

- stops you from falling all the time.

- “my love” “dearest”

- not touchy, but shows his love for you with actions.

- gifts you flowers, makes you food, cleans your room for you.

- fine..he’ll go to the flower dance for you.

- he’ll just end up dragging you to a secluded area to do the dance tho.

- it’s kinda cute ngl.

Tags

[vickyzangels]

% “..but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway.”

# synopsis ; an anon asked for sfw and nsfw headcanons for tom but i accidentally deleted the ask while trying to fight for my life against tumblr because every time i added a border two other pictures would disappear tumblr i hope you fall down the stairs

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 551

# tags ; nsfw further under “keep reading” (mdni)

a/n ; i’m gonna drop this first but i have a nearly finished smut oneshot literally sitting in docs rn if i get decent enough feedback on this i’ll drop it

sfw

y’all remember that interview where he said he’d “fall in love for only a night but that he’d be down for true love later”? yeah unfortunately that applied to you, too

this can go one of two ways, you work close to the band as staff or you were a fan at one of their concerts that for some reason has to keep coming back and tom took a visual liking to you

what goes down between you two after he first notices you is vague but tom keeps seeing you every time you’re around and you started weaseling your way into his head at every hour of the day

he’d never admit that though (yet), so he’s still gonna keep up his playboy act for a bit but you’re gonna pick up that he’s being closer to you like making small jokes with you and being a little nicer

god it took you so long but he finally let you squeeze through his shell enough to be relatively close friends for a while but this definitely became a “do i wanna know if this feeling flows both ways” situation

yes the feeling did flow both ways, too bad he was still a player and you didn’t wanna ruin anything so you just endlessly flirted with each other

i am 92% sure he came to you first at an afterparty absolutely wasted and told you in german “du bist so unglaublich schön und ich will dich so sehr.” you are so infuriatingly beautiful and i want you so bad.

unfortunately, bill had to translate for you

i’ve been talking a lot so i’ll try to sum up a relationship with him and add miscellaneous points

he makes an effort to act like a boyfriend in your relationship, like he doesn’t openly flirt with other people out of genuine respect for you

first date was something like you two staying over at one of your houses for the night like a sleepover or doing something in the city

he has never forgotten any important day for you. never. and on that topic, he’ll get gifts for those days nearly months in advance

he appreciates a person with aesthetic

i’m lying, tom would fall head over heels in love if you wear something even remotely close to his style

nsfw

tom is a dog, y’all have seen the way he talks about what he wants to do during sex but he’s the most respectful person someone could probably ever ask for, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to pause everything if you told him you felt a little uncomfortable

the type of guy to fake bang you from behind when you bend over to grab something.

he’d spit in your mouth, having you kneel in front of him and holding your jaw open by squeezing it then making you swallow it if you wanted to be touched at all

this almost isn’t a headcanon but he’s a tit guy, regardless of size he’d froth at the mouth just to hold them

there’s not a big dom/sub thing between you two but he’s a switch because i said so

y’all… his favorite position is doggy or prone bone doesn’t matter as long as he gets to pull you by your neck up to him

a/n ; wow. didn’t think i could write something like this but i have a lot more so lmk if i should make a part 2?

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

[calware]

Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious

1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)

i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]

plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes

minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real

this post

i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo

2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.

he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read

3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)

4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:

you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot

5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been

6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot

7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy

8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this

9. the Important part of this post:

THERES FEELINGS.

it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or

10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!

[cinnamonest]

OMG I MISSED YOUR WRITINGS ON SCARAMOUCHE SO MUCH!!

Please I need the version with camgirl reader x incel Scaramouche 🛐

And I hope you are well !!! <3

The way I was gonna make this a fairly simple post and then I got carried away and now it's 9k words WHOOPS

Anyway YES anon, I am on the slut girl x virgin boy agenda... although since I already have a camgirl, this time I went with like an onlyf*ns/e-girl darling + college AU >:3

//noncon, cyberstalking, blackmail, harassment, misogyny, sadism, nipple/ass stuff, revenge porn/leaking, darling is portrayed as being feminine + implied to have a bf

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You tell yourself it's just to get you through college.

That's how you convinced yourself to start the account — regular camming requires a schedule and streaming and all that, which you'd rather not do, whereas the other outlets let you sell subscriptions for photos and videos, and there was a decent market out there, so you took your best shot, did some work to advertise yourself on mainstream social sites, and hey, it worked. You soon find yourself with a steady stream of income, and all you have to do is masturbate on camera and take a few posed photos of your body.

A few years of some extra income, and then you'll be done, get a better job, and you can delete the account and scrub the internet clean of any trace of the matter. Maybe some guy out there will keep some of the photos, but it can't be that bad.

This way, you can focus on your academics, which a regular part-time job would be too time-consuming for. You don’t have to worry about scheduling classes around a work schedule, either, which allows you to be more choosy on your class schedule, ensuring you get the later classes and don’t have to wake up early each day.

Except one, where you had no choice but to take the early class, as the other sections filled up fast. It’s one of those required tech-involved ones, you just picked from the list at random — one of those big classes with hundreds of people in a huge auditorium, any degree of personalism drowned by the sheer number of people. It’s a male-dominated subject field, and the body of attending students when you walk in clearly reflects that, so you just sit down in the very back at the first unclaimed seat you can find, pausing to say good morning to the boy next to you, who only briefly looks your way in acknowledgement.

The professor goes over the generic first-day material — that yes, you need the expensive textbook, that yes, he will check attendance, and no, he will not give you extra credit at the last minute at the end of the semester, so on and so on… and—

—you’ll be working with the person next to you for the rest of the semester.

Even-numbered seats, the person to your immediate left, odd-numbered seats, to your immediate right. You turn and smile at the guy you’re thus assigned to, the same one you spoke to a few moments ago — once again, he just glances over at you and nods with some vague acknowledgement and then resumes doing what he’s been doing since the professor started, which is scrolling on his phone beneath the desk, only half-paying attention. That does not bode well for your predictions of how equally-yoked you’ll be in your work ethic… but no big deal.

It's one of those classes with a midterm and final project that you work on throughout the semester, rather than tests… which, hey, that could be fun, you tell yourself. You think you can get along. He doesn’t seem to care about what's going on around him much, which is not exactly good, but isn’t bad.

That dopey, happy demeanor… so obnoxious… ugh, you’ve got a notebook (an aesthetic, pretty one at that), and you're pulling it out on the first day of class? For what?

Except you aren’t reading him all that well at all. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes shift over to you and your activities throughout the class. And the reality is he very much does care.

That is, from the very second he lays eyes on you, you irritate him.

Then you write the class and your name at the top of the page all cutesy and artsy-looking, and then— God, now you're pulling out the multiple colors of highlighters and pens. Is that— is that one of those sparkly gel pens? Oh, it is. You’re making a little header with today’s date for your notes with it. Just kill him now. This is practically psychological torture.

Thus, while from your perspective, it feels like he barely pays you a second thought, in reality the rest of the period for him is spent just stewing in a stream of bitter, jaded thoughts.

Look at you with your… girl clothes and girl pens and girl notebook… you probably think you're so cute, spending money on dumb stuff like that… and smiling like an idiot. What are you so happy for. Why are you even taking this class when you'll just be bad at it. Why are you dressed like you put effort into it. Just pick up one of the sweatshirts laying on your bedroom floor like a reasonable person. And why do you smell so nice too.

He mulls over the negativity for the remainder of the class period, totally zoned out until people start packing up, which is the cue to leave.

Except you stop him before he can make a quick exit, holding out your phone, open to a new entry in your contacts.

Ah, since we'll need to work on the project, I can text you…

Right. That. Ugh.

The awkward discomfort of standing there and entering a name and number while you stand there with that dumb little nervous smile is only made more upsetting by the bitter realization that this will mark the first time he's ever had his number in a girl's phone before. Great, now he's going to be depressed for the rest of the day, and it's your fault.

You say thanks and smile again and your hands brush against his when you take your phone back and it makes him physically flinch in recoil — and you definitely noticed it, you mumble a little ah, sorry as if you're trying to make it even more awkward, now he's got to live with the humiliation of that too, and it's still your fault. Clearly, you are going to be nothing but a source of frustration.

And even once he's moped all the way back to the the comfort of his nice, dark apartment, he still can't escape your torment — no sooner does he flop down into bed than his phone goes off…

>Hi! Just wanted to make sure you can save my number too!

You add the little smiling emoji. It makes his eye twitch.

Trying to act all nice and sweet as if you're not only being pleasant because you're forced to work together. He knows full well you'd be all bitchy and demanding and hypersensitive in any other context, and probably all snobbish too, probably would barely pay him any mind.

Even if you are genuinely sweet, that in and of itself is still basically torturing him. Because what’s the point in you being sweet if you’re not going to give him anything more than that? With that in mind, even your niceness is just a cruel tease.

And why would you even be so happy to begin with? Doesn't being a girl suck? If he was something so weak and inferior and unintelligent, he'd be even more miserable about life, and that's really saying something. Maybe it's one of those things where you're so dumb that you lack self-awareness, so you can live a life of ignorant bliss... at the same time, the notion that you’re unaware of how inferior you are is equally frustrating. You should know, that knowledge should weigh on your mind all the time.

The frustration makes his chest feel tight, makes him grind his teeth… naturally, he has to get it out somehow, and there's a very convenient means to do so.

The imageboards he frequents almost always have a “leaked images” thread up and running, communities where they post e-girls’ nudes and revenge porn. The wrongness of it, of course, is the appeal.

Besides, they all deserve it. Some are images originally sent to boyfriends, posted as an act of revenge after cheating or dumping the guy (so it's deserved, really), others are leaked videos and photos from various pay-to-view networks and websites (also deserved, for being a whore), and finally some are just creepshots in public places (deserved once more, for dressing that way).

And the endless amount of the content and surprisingly good tagging system means that one can find any sort of content, and for the leaked porn accounts, it includes the girl's username and links to more of her, so you can see more of the same girl.

Like with this one, that just so happens to catch his eye. There's a whole page where some guy has paid for every single photo this girl has made, and put it out there for everyone to see for free. It's solo stuff, too, which is preferred — seeing couples making videos together, thereby watching the girl love on some guy, is depressing — and getting off to it is much more satisfying than any of the other girls on this thread, considering she looks like you.

…A lot, actually.

He's already memorized your annoying, pretty little face. The title of the video has the words “college girl” in it, too. Adds to the immersion, can feel like it’s really you, degrading yourself like that… of course, when it’s over, he has to deal with the reality that it isn’t, but the momentary pretending is cathartic.

And sure enough, as the first week passes, you quickly prove just as irritating as he initially suspected. You smile at him and talk to him every class, for some unknown, malicious ulterior motive. Are you trying to be belittling? Or are you trying to make him like you so that he'll do favors for you? Or is it for your own amusement?

Either way, the obvious deceit of it all is sickening. It's a commonly known female behavior. You try to come across as so sweet when in reality it's all an act, and you have some horrible reason for it. He just doesn't know what the reason is in your case yet. It would be better to be a bad person outright — the slimy underhanded fakeness of it all is what makes that type of evil so contemptible.

You, though, you’re just a bit puzzled. Normally, being nice to people works well… but this guy keeps sort of glaring at you… maybe that’s just how his face naturally is? But then, he also doesn’t talk very nice either. Not particularly mean, per se, but you can sort of sense an irritation, like you’ve done something wrong… you try to make the best of it, tell yourself you’re just imagining it. Besides, if he really didn’t like you, he wouldn’t respond when you talk to him, or would sit elsewhere, right? It’s not like you have to maintain the same seats all semester, as long as you work on the required material outside of class. So, you tell yourself, he must just be one of those people that naturally has that demeanor.

You’re not nearly as aware of it, but he makes his own observations of you too. You don’t check your phone nearly as much as he does, but every now and then, you look at something or another, and he always makes sure to subtly turn his eyes to see… it’s usually something stupid, like texts from friends, or worse, what appears to be a boyfriend, some male name you text often.

The first time you’re forced to meet outside of class, at the library per your suggestion — a very awkward interaction, but you seem to be fairly unbothered — you take a moment to check it when it vibrates. You’re sitting at an angle that makes it difficult for him to see without moving in a way that would catch your attention, but by pretending to take a swig of whatever can of liquid caffeine he has today (you had the audacity to comment how unhealthy it is), that he can tilt his head enough just to barely make out your screen without being noticed.

Your phone is open to an email.

The words flash across the screen for just a split second before you turn the screen off, but that one second is enough to make out the top of the screen. Enough time for the ‘hello, (username),’ preface to the email right beneath a very familiar blue logo to register with his brain.

He nearly chokes.

It takes every ounce of willpower to even try to hide the natural reaction — his eyes widen, he goes tense, he has to turn his torso away and pretend to fish something out of his cluttered bottomless void of a backpack whilst trying to refrain from coughing.

But then again, you put the phone away so quickly once you saw what it was… and the video from the other day…?

No. That can't be right.

There's no way. There's no way, there's no way, there's no way.

He can’t get back to his own place fast enough. Dropping the keys trying to unlock the door out of excitement, immediately whipping out his own phone, and he’s on the bookmarks tab before he can even sit down. Back to the leaks site, scrolling down to the tags where they put the girl’s username.

You’re wholly unbothered, going right back to talking to him in that overly-sweet tone, so nice, so frustrating, so torturous. You’re saying something. He has to get you to repeat yourself… no, it was just some pointless question about the homework.

To hell with that, that’s not even remotely important anymore… but he can’t voice that thought out loud, so he’s forced to tolerate the torment of waiting out the rest of your meeting until you finally say you’ll have to keep working later.

The usernames match. The one in your email was the exact same as the one now on the screen.

…

It's one of those moments where what's in front of him is so surreal, he's left so stunned, that he just sits there for a second, completely still, blinking and taking it in. Something that's too perfect to be real. This can't be actually happening, he's mistaken.

And thus he's just left perfectly still, a stupor of disbelief, sitting there in the darkness of the room with only the harsh light of phone screen shining up on his face as it slowly sinks in. It takes a minute — this is just the sort of thing that doesn't happen, it's far too perfect, he has to convince himself it isn't a dream.

And once it registers as reality, it feels exhilarating.

For one, it proves every suspicion right. He really did have a valid reason to be distrusting of your innocent girl act. To think, this whole time you were trying to fool him into believing you were good.

But all along, you were whoring out online, and basically, the fact that you're not upfront about that to someone you barely know is the same as outright lying about it.

Up until this point, life has just been so boring, so disappointing, just going through day to day… even college was just a thing to do because it's what everyone else does. But now? Now he has something exciting. A sudden sense of something meaningful, even if only as an outlet for pure, unadulterated malice.

As for you, well, you get a… well, a follower, but certainly not a fan.

The boy is a world-class hater. It's not passive hating, it's active hating. There is actual effort being put in here, and a lot of it at that.

In terms of the content itself, it's nothing you haven't seen before — some guy leaving comments and DMs calling you a whore and a slut and every nasty name one can conjure, saying you've ruined any hopes of a relationship by doing this, why would anyone ever date you when they can see you naked for a few bucks, telling you to get a real job, blah blah… fairly generic. A lot of the verbiage is certainly non-original, and more or less recycled, specific choices of words and phrases and lingo you know you’ve seen before in those pockets of the internet where certain types of men congregate.

But the sheer dedication to it is what catches you off guard. You're pretty sure this guy is more dedicated to harassing you than you are to the job itself. There's messages from all hours of the day, and you're certain after a short time that he makes multiple accounts for the sole purpose of harassing you. Not to mention he follows or adds you on everything — all the socials you've linked (you keep several associated to your account to lure in horny guys from mainstream sites), adds you on discord and any other messaging app you have (and you have no way of knowing which users are legitimate or if it's him, so you have to add them back and wait to find out each time). One of which you didn't even have listed on your page, so you realize he would have had to go through various apps and search the multiple variations of your username you use until finding you.

Telling him to fuck off accomplishes nothing, in fact he seems to derive great satisfaction from making you upset about it. Tells you that you should be glad — you wanted male attention, right? You wouldn't be posting yourself getting off and flashing your tits on camera for the world to see if you didn't, slut. He adds that insult to just about everything he says to you.

Blocking him only leads to him making new accounts (and then mocking you for trying to block him). You even reached out to a customer support team on one of your social media apps and got him permanently IP banned, which he then immediately circumvented in less than a few hours, making sure to inform you that changing one's IP is so easy and you're so dumb for thinking that would do anything.

But why you, specifically? Why decide to torment you out of every other girl doing this stuff? You don't know. You never asked for this. You never did anything wrong to anyone. You even scrolled back on your social accounts to see if you ever said anything someone could take offensively or had a negative interaction with someone, but found nothing. There's nothing to explain why this one man in particular has decided to come after you specifically, nothing you can think of at least. It feels like the universe just hates you.

It's actually kinda sad. You almost feel bad for this guy, who apparently has so much time to spare and nothing better to do than harass the same girl on the internet day in and day out. You did once shoot back a reply of don’t you have anything better to do?, which actually did make him stop… for about ten hours or so, then it was right back to it.

It's deserved, though, he thinks. E-girls are reprehensible. Taking advantage of guys’ loneliness for money.

Infuriating that you advertise something that he— well, that most guys want so bad, but don't actually give the real thing, only a simulation of it. Make them drool over you, while you hide behind the safety of the screen, far away from what those guys would do to you if they could get their hands on you.

And you know that too, don't you? You know how defenseless you are, know how much danger you'd be in if you teased without putting out like that to a guy in real life, and you do it anyway knowing you're untouchable, you must be so smug about it. Infuriating.

He's not like those simps of yours though, he finds you too morally reprehensible to be drawn to the curves of your body and the parts of you that you post and the sounds you make and how easy it is to imagine the softness of your skin and the way you feel and your warmth and the way you look directly into the camera as you moan and it feels like eye contact—

Anyway, he has standards. And self-respect.

Besides, he knows from stalking your social accounts — including your real ones with your real identity attached, separate from the others — that you have something like a boyfriend. Some guy who shows up in your pictures a lot. What a pathetic idiot. Who lets their girlfriend do this sort of thing? Even disregarding that, does this guy not know you’re meeting with him for your project too? He would never allow you to do something like that, were it him in that position. You must go after spineless guys who will let you walk all over them or something, and would only even accept boyfriends that allow you to do what you do.

That’s why, see, he would never accept something like that. Sure, there would be positives, like getting to see that sweet annoying smile and hear your happy obnoxious precious voice each and every day, and getting to touch you and be around you all the time, and you probably do really nice things for the person you’re with too, and he could always just force you to delete the accounts and never post yourself online again— but, whatever.

Point is, he’s better than stooping so low. He’ll keep living a respectable life, just like he does now — so he thinks as the phone alarm goes off, one of many set reminders to go send you more messages.

It's an awkward relationship, but you're pretty sure he doesn't hate you or anything, which is good. He's hard to read — he seems perpetually either bored or irritated, always slouched over, always maintaining that ‘I really wish I weren't here right now’ tone of voice, lots of heavy sighs or tsks scattered into his speech. Even when you agree to meet at the library to work on the homework and midterm project, he quickly establishes a pattern of being at least ten to fifteen minutes late (without any acknowledgement or apology at that), and frankly, you do the vast majority of the actual work, he just slaps his name on the corner next to yours once it's done.

The torment detracts from your sleep. You're late to your class more than once, trying to sneak in unnoticed by the professor and mumbling apologies to the students you have to slip by to get to your seat. Your partner doesn't seem to care much, at least — he just lazily glances over at you with a flat expression, then goes back to scrolling (he doesn't need to take notes, you'll just send him yours anyway).

He does step in to help when it's too difficult, you can't solve the problem yourself… which is how you realize that, in spite of being remarkably low-effort, he actually does understand the material, much better than you do at that. It's a bit embarrassing, since he makes it out to be so simple, but at least it somewhat compensates for all the work you do.

He's not particularly mean about it, he's just… not nice. The tone and choice of words tends to be not-so-subtly making you out to be dumb for not getting it, or that it's easy, or otherwise belittling.

…You really don't get that one? It's the exact same thing as the last one.

You give a sheepish smile and rub the back of your head.

Aha… sorry…

But it gets done, and that's what matters. You just walk away from each meeting feeling like an idiot, which isn't exactly a great feeling.

But even though you initially felt like the guy didn’t care for you, you quickly notice that he’s started to walk all the way back to your place after your meetings while you talk. You supposed he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t at least somewhat enjoy your company.

And you do try to make conversation. You ask about what other classes he takes…only to learn that he doesn't go to any other classes, since this is the only one where attending is required. He did the math, and he just has to do good on the finals for the other classes to pass, no need to show up for the tests and quizzes and lectures and stuff… and he did research into the professors to find ones where past students confirm they recycle the exact same tests and the past ones are posted online, and he's already got a good cheating method that's only been caught once in all the years he's used it… so there's no point in showing up, he says.

It's a very different mentality than yours, but you try to smile and refrain from saying anything negative. And you try interests and social life as topics, but quickly glean from what little he says that the guy has none of the latter and more or less just a phone and gaming addiction for the former.

Which you have no trouble believing, because good God, does the boy have a totally fried attention span. Even in your meetings, you swear he can't go five minutes without staring at his phone.

Oh, you like that too…?

That does end up helping you find a means to try and get closer. You manage to find one opening, something flash across the screen for some upcoming game. One you've been looking forward to as well.

Huh? You can’t like that thing. He likes that thing. It's not for females. It’s for people with good taste… it’s good… you can’t… someone like you would never be able to properly appreciate it… and now you’re just babbling away with that dumb smile while he’s going through a psychological crisis and rethinking every choice in life because of you. Does this put you two on the same intellectual level...? No, of course not, he has to quickly shake off any such doubts.

You were hoping to get a positive reaction, but you get silent bewilderment in his expression at first, for just a second.

Still, you’re supposed to be boring and a normie… you can’t just suddenly shatter the image of you he’s already constructed… and from the way you're talking about it, you know too much to just be pretending to like something for attention (which is the obvious automatic assumption for when females like media that's actually good and worth consuming).

Devastating. Now he has to consider the possibility that you do have interests and a personality besides being deceitfully sweet and whoring online.

But from your perspective, he just crosses his arms and shrugs.

Kind of, I guess.

And God, then you smile at him again. Every time you do that, it gives him some godawful tight-chested feeling, like you’re trying to kill him with psychic damage.

What gives you the right to be so happy right now anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in constant distress, now? Is he not doing good enough of a job at tormenting you? You seemed upset, but clearly not upset enough, if you’re still emotionally stable enough to be nice to him. He has to break you, make you too distraught to even go on.

Online, you’re so mean, you never have anything nice to say, even though he’s not that mean to you — well, he could be worse, at least, which is basically the same thing.

Actually, he decides, how you behave in real life will be a good standard of how good he’s doing at making your life miserable. Once it starts to noticeably affect you even in real life, that means it’s sufficient.

But you prove resilient. Each day, you seem to get up, summon some resolve to still enjoy your life, and are still pleasant and friendly… or maybe you’re just really good at acting. Yes, obviously that’s it, since your whole sweetness thing is just an act in the first place.

On your end, the harassment gets worse. It comes in all hours of the day — does this guy not sleep? It’s almost hard to believe someone hates you this much, or even has the energy to keep this up… you start trying to just ignore it.

You tried threatening to report the guy for harassment, but he points out that he hasn’t threatened you with any real harm, and only targeted your public accounts, so no laws broken… and he’s already prepared by taking measures to— well, you don’t understand the spew of lingo that follows, but you gather that the jist is that it would be very difficult to trace him.

So you start to ignore it. You try your best to just not let it get to you, let the comments and messages go without acknowledgement or response. It’s actually somewhat relieving, if you just pretend it doesn’t exist. At first, when you start ignoring him, the messages get more frequent.

But then, it goes quiet for a day. Just around twenty-four hours, you don't get messages, nor comments.

It should make you feel relieved, you think, but it doesn't. Quite the opposite — you feel uneasy. Like something will happen.

He's getting bored, you see. You don't react as strongly anymore as you used to. You used to get so upset at all the messages he sent, and it was so fun to watch how you'd get all defensive and angry in your replies.

Then your replies got shorter, and now— what gives your the right to ignore him? It infuriates him. Dumb whore, treating him like you think you're so much better… or, the gut-wrenching thought passes through his mind, maybe you're busy, you’re probably visiting the guys you sleep around with, since someone like you could never be loyal to that boyfriend he's certain you have.

The only option is to progress things further. He has to think about that. He didn't really have a plan on where to go from here, but now he's started to think about the bigger picture, what he wants in the long term… and that's not going to go over well for you.

It takes some work and digging on his end, but it's worth it.

It's around three in the morning when your phone goes off. It just barely manages to wake you up. You think to yourself that you should remember to turn off the notifications for messaging apps… but for now, you sit up, groggily unlocking your phone. Seeing who the message is from, though, snaps you into full alertness.

A message that makes you go stiff, staring at your phone wide-eyed and slack-jawed, a cold knot of dread forming in your gut that quickly turns to an electrifying surge of pure panic as you read.

The name of your academic institution. The names, emails and phone numbers of your immediate family members. Your full, real name — and your address, down to the unit number.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. The glaring light hurts your tired eyes, but you can't look away.

You know he's just waiting on a response. Probably knows you're panicking, but knows you have no choice but to comply — and you're forced to give him the satisfaction of seeing you type back.

>What do you want from me?

It's only a few seconds before you get a reply.

>From now on, do what I want

>Or I ruin your life.

You hesitate a while before responding. Poor you, you must be so scared now that you're finally getting what you deserve. And even then, you just send back a ‘fine,’ even though it took you so long to respond. You were probably trying to think of how to respond, probably typed out longer potential replies, but decided on that to seem tough or something. That's actually almost endearing.

And oh, it's so, so satisfying to finally see you crumble, even if just a bit, the next day. For you to come shuffling into class for once with a downtrodden, nervous expression, making your way over to your spot without the usual greeting.

…Except that's also irritating. What makes you think you can just not say hello, now that you've established a routine of doing so every day of this class? For all you know, he's just the person you know in real life, so you're basically willingly choosing to potentially disappoint him. Not that you are disappointing him, but like, if he actually cared about your dumb little daily greeting, then he would be. He even gives you several extra seconds, and you still don't do it.

You're still fidgeting nervously, lost in thought when the mumbling directed at you pulls you out of your thoughts.

…Something wrong with you?

You seem to realize your sullen energy and attempt to fix it with a twitching, obviously forced smile.

O-oh, no, I'm just tired, haha… good morning!

He doesn't say anything back, just turns back to phone-scrolling as usual. You realize your melancholy must be showing on your face.

You're being overdramatic, too, he thinks. He didn't even give you any demands yet, since he decided it would be more fun to make you wait in suspense for a few hours or so. Seeing you squirm is funny, but really, you're acting like it's so much worse than it is. What a weakling, so sensitive.

It's just gonna be stuff you're used to anyway…

Which is somewhat true. You're used to the demand for private, custom content.

Men pay you sometimes incredible amounts of money for the stuff. Usually, the customization is about personalization — sometimes it's kind of sad, wanting you to say their name or that you love them while you look at the camera, and sometimes it's just more niche fetish stuff, like pictures of your feet or wearing a weird costume.

But everything this mystery man wants is different — the personalization has to do with the fact that it's painful, humiliating, or both. Moreover, he's never content with the first try.

Stuffing your holes with toys and sitting down on them so they go all the way in, specifically, ‘as many as you can fit’ — but even after the painful effort of getting one in each hole—

>That's not enough.

You can fit at least one more somewhere. And you're intentionally using the smaller toys, aren't you? You won't be able to do that next time, so don't try that again.

Then there's the command to get those clamps on your nipples you used in a video of yours a long time ago, the ones connected to each other by a chain, and to tighten them then pull hard enough for them to come off. You have to take a few deep breaths to summon the ability to do it, and even then, it takes a few tugs to get them to come off. By the time they do, your nipples are swollen and red and your eyes are watery from the sting, but nonetheless, a message comes through within a minute of sending the video.

>You didn't tighten them all the way first.

>Do it over.

Or the one to deep throat that one huge toy you have, the one you used in this one video a long time ago — which you now regret ever posting, since there's a reason that you never used that monstrosity again, much less in your throat. At first you're not even sure you can fit it into your mouth, but you force it somehow.

On and on the demands come. He's not paying for any of it, of course, but the premise is the same.

Still, it's not enough. Come on, you didn't even get it very far in, you have to at least get half down your throat. And you didn't hold the phone close enough, can't hear your gagging choking sounds.

>Do it again.

The timing is often terrible, shortly before or after your classes, or odd hours of the night, forcing you to stop whatever you're doing to meet the demand. Thankfully, though, at least you've never gotten a message from him during your meetups with your class partner — you're certain your distress would show on your face, and it would be hard to come up with an excuse for it.

It becomes such routine, and all happens so quickly, it feels surreal, like you're just forced to accept it and go with it. There’s no time to really process it, as you have to get back to doing your school work and going to class and trying to keep up with your regular video content, it's all so overwhelming, yet so simple, you just have to do what you have to do.

One moment you're slapping yourself in the face while you bounce up and down on a toy so long that it bruises your insides for some jerk that's blackmailing you, and running to class the next, desperately trying to rub at the marks on your face to make them go away.

You're worried that the stress is beginning to show. Your most recent quiz scores are lower than usual, you're getting less sleep. Your insides are always sore. You're paranoid and uneasy, and you know it has to be somewhat evident.

Some of the individual demands have lasting consequences, too. Once you were commanded to choke yourself with a belt on camera, specifically until it left bruises… which you begged and protested against because you had one of your class partner meet-ups scheduled for later the same day, but your tormentor said he didn't care and insisted, so you did it, forcing yourself to go through it… and sending an additional picture at the end just to show the purplish marks in detail, up close.

It wasn't the end of the world for your meeting though — the weather wasn't right for it, but you found something that covered your neck up, at least, so the bruises didn't show. That much, at least, allows you to be at ease… although your classmate seems to be in a particularly bad mood that day.

On another occasion, you find yourself laying on your side, gasping and wincing trying to force one of the larger toys you have into your ass, all the way to the base as instructed, toes curling as you pump it back and forth, in and out… only to be told you weren't supposed to touch yourself while you did it, so, predictably, you have to do it again, the ring of muscle clenching down as it's stretched — and, of course, the act leaves a remnant sensation lasting the rest of the day. You have to rush it too, or you'll be late, due to the horrible timing of the command.

You manage to get to class, but when you move to sit, an ache of pain runs up your spine from your poor abused hole, and you wince, face grimacing at the pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The guy next to you, ever observant to everything except the professor, casts a lazy glance over to you, looks you up and down before asking what’s the matter, albeit in a half-caring, bored tone of voice…

You give the oh, nothing, I'm fine! response, stammer out something about hurting your leg yesterday, and he merely gives you an 'ah' of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back down… he rests his chin against his hand so that his mouth is covered up, but you swear, you can detect a slight grin from the shape of his eyes. You suppose it checks out that he'd find your clumsiness amusing, even if it's a lie.

On and on it goes. All the time. Day in, day out. It starts off as once per day, but then your tormentor starts piling smaller requests on top of those. Even beyond the daily video, you get increasingly frequent messages at all times of the day — to take a picture of your tits or ass, or a short video of you fingering yourself, or some sort of angle or pose of your body, writing something on your skin, so on and so on.

He doesn't accept any delays, either. You only get a few minutes to fulfill a demand before getting an impatient follow-up asking what the hold up is. Sleep isn't an excuse either, so you're told, so you have to start turning your phone on loud at night to wake you if need be.

You sense a growing impatience. The frequency increases still, as does the intensity of the content you're forced to make. It's as if it's building up to something — surely it has to reach a limit, or he has to get bored, or he'll ditch you and find a new outlet for his sadistic thrills, you hope. You just hope it ends in a way that's positive for you… but you're afraid of the opposite. What if even after all this, he just ruins your life anyway? It's a very real possibility, one you begin considering increasingly as you think over the whole situation.

The increasing severity and number of demands makes you feel like he's getting more upset, as if you're doing something that makes him mad, even though you have no idea what that could be.

You are right, though.

He's also noticed how much more frequently he gets the urge to demand something from you. How much more the itch has grown, the compulsive need to see you hurting and degrading yourself more and more. You've long since passed the point where he has more videos and photos of you all to himself than those available online — he's been counting — but it's still not enough.

And with the realizations that he's engaging with you more, he realizes that he's also thinking about you more.

No, “more” isn't quite accurate. All the time. Constantly. You never leave his head, everything else feels like a distraction.

And that's only more infuriating. He's very self-aware, realizes it's getting worse, realizes you essentially occupy his thoughts every waking second.

Even then, the distractions aren't working. At one point he realized he literally cannot stop himself from messaging you, it's a compulsion, a need, and the realization of his own lack of self-control regarding it is maddening. He actively tried, told himself to wait until the next day, but just couldn't. Even if he plays games or watches whatever brain-rotting media he tries to consume, his thoughts keep drifting to you. Hell, ever since latching onto you, he’s stopped harassing other random women online in general, and that was pretty much one of his biggest hobbies in the past.

What gives you the right? To get inside his head like that? Make him constantly distracted and wondering about what you're doing, forcing him to keep tabs on you? What makes you think you can just come into his life and control him like this, and think you'll get away with it? You've more or less taken advantage of an innocent person who did nothing wrong to you. Used your body to exploit his weaknesses and manipulate him into doing all this.

You don't get to do that. You have to be held accountable.

You're constantly making him worry about you, what you're doing, who you're talking to, and not knowing is a maddening feeling. It feels like nausea, a sick feeling that completely consumes the mind, rendering it incapable of doing or focusing on anything else, only cycling the same obsessive rage and worry and paranoia until it becomes unbearable.

But there's a way to get rid of that, and give you what you deserve, and get what you owe him all at the same time.

He waits, only another week or so — a frustrating week, but spent planning ahead and gathering necessary stuff — but finally, given the timing, you send a text he was hoping you'd send asking about meeting up again, to finish up the project as the end of the semester approaches.

You're a bit caught off-guard by the message, not to mention how quickly he replies.

>Come over here.

You hesitate, re-reading to try and ensure that you're understanding correctly, and finally ask for clarification that he means to his place.

He says yes. Something about how he's supposed to have something delivered that he'll have to sign, and so he has to be at the apartment when that happens, so, y'know, best for you to come over.

Which is nice.

It's just… odd.

Inviting you over, even if for a required activity, feels very out of line with the person you've come to know, however surface-level said knowing may be. Then again, maybe this is the guy's way of trying to be nice. Everyone expresses appreciation differently.

You're still thinking on it when he adds another text saying that his roommate will be there, preemptively apologizes for any disturbance that will cause… well, you figure if someone else is there, it can’t be anything sinister. That helps you make up your mind, so you agree. At this point, you know each other well enough to warrant trust.

…It’s still pretty awkward, though. The apartment is about like a picture you would expect to see uploaded to the internet as a joke about male living spaces. Borderline barren, barring the computer and the bare minimum furniture and appliances needed to survive, plus some clothes and empty cans and such strewn in various places across the floor, all dark lighting and void of color.

That being said, you quickly realize the apartment is only a studio, and there’s only one bed. The roommate doesn't exist.

And something just feels wrong, in a way you can’t articulate. Like your instincts are urging you to leave. You feel uneasy. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Are you just being paranoid…?

There is something else, though, that immediately catches your attention. You notice that the wall isn’t exposed, rather, most of the room is covered with a layer of some sort of paneling, lining the wall almost as thoroughly as wallpaper. You inquire what it is.

Soundproofing.

An unpleasant answer, but he wouldn’t be so upfront about it unless it was for harmless reasons. You refrain from inquiring about the other odd things you start to notice — locks on some cabinets despite seemingly living alone, a roll of tape sitting on the desk with no discernable purpose.

As awkward as the tension is, you really have no option but to sit on the bed, as its the only surface other than the floor. You try not to contemplate how often the average college-aged boy washes bedsheets.

It occurs to you, though, that right now would be the worst possible timing for a message from your unknown harasser, and you certainly can’t take any photos or videos here… thus, just as you sit down and begin to work, you pick up your phone from where you set yours next to his, and type out a quick message, basically pleading with the unknown man to leave you along for the next few hours, because, as you explain, you literally can’t do anything for the time being.

You read it over, and hit send.

And before you can even put the phone back down, there's a vibration a mere arms-length away from you, as the other phone in the room lights up.

And there, in the notification that pops up on the screen, are the very words you just sent.

…

…

There's a few seconds where nothing happens.

Both your heads naturally turn to the sound the moment it happens, but after that, it's just… still. You’re frozen still, he’s frozen still. Both your eyes go wide, and the quiet seconds pass, processing the information before you.

And then, he sighs, body relaxing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering as if met with some major inconvenience.

God, why do you have to make this more difficult.

Besides, he already turned the lock that locks you in from the inside, even though you probably weren’t aware of what it was, so you’re already trapped anyway. And you squeal, of course, predictably, but that’s what the soundproof panels are for.

He's not particularly worried like he would have been any other time — this was the plan now anyway, but you're throwing things off schedule. Yet another transgression to hold you accountable for.

You do try to run. You at least deserve that much credit. He was so close to considering you a genuine marvel of human evolution, with how nonfunctional your survival instincts seemed to be.

But you’re sitting with your legs folded, so, you don’t have the time required to stand any chance of hopping up and running. The moment your legs start to move to stand, he’s already got you by the arm.

You even seemed to process everything a bit quicker than he would have thought. Maybe you’re not that stupid after all, just… a little less.

You still are incredibly stupid though. He’s almost surprised you agreed to come. So naive, so dumb, so trusting.

And so loud. Squealing like a little animal caught by a predator — which, well, isn’t too far off, but it still hurts his ears.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

You can hear the growling voice in your ear, even now that he has your face pressed into the mattress, arm latched around your waist. You’re squirming so hard too, but even fighting with all the strength you can summon, it feels like trying to push back a brick wall. He seems to notice as much as you do.

…Is that actually the best you can do?

Not the first time he’s said those words to you — though before, it was over text, mocking you into filling all those perverse desires. It feels far more biting now.

And it’s so, so, so satisfying to see you realize just how dumb you are, as you put everything together. To watch you slowly grasp everything, realize just how badly you’ve fucked up. He even flips you onto your back just to see your face go through all the stages of emotion. It’s hilarious, and adorable too. The confusion and betrayal and panic and anger.

Oh, you get so mad. It’s actually the best part. You’re practically snarling now, reaching up to try and claw at him, kicking, baring your teeth. Any traces of the sweet demeanor you once held is long gone as you lash out… and then, a purely and entirely euphoric transition to fear.

Aw. Poor thing. After you struggle so much, your breathing gets faster, the fury dissipates as your eyes well with tears. The demands to let you go turn to miserable little pleas.

Maybe you can go back and forth. Maybe if he taunts you again you’ll get angry once more, and then if he slaps you you’ll get meek and fearful again? That would be nice, to have reliable ways to switch your emotions around, as if controlling them with a button. There will be plenty of time to find out later.

But now he gets the opportunity to finally tell you how long you made him wait for this. Mocks you for how naive you were. Brings up specifics from all those videos you sent him. Did you think it would just be left at that? Did you really not realize it wouldn’t be enough? No, of course you didn’t, and that’s why you ended up coming here like the dumb little slut you are.

And look, you even wore something so easy to flip up, practically easy access. You just have no shame at all, do you. See, it goes in perfectly because you’ve been using those toys for those videos, and… ah, so that’s— that’s what it feels like… holy shit… this is what you basically robbed him of all this time? Now you’ll really have to suffer to make up for it…

Well, you wouldn’t get it. It’s about what you did subconsciously, mind games and all that. His torment was intentional on your end, and that’s what matters. Now you'll get to spend a very very long time atoning for it. You should be happy. You won't even have to worry about making money anymore.

This wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t do what you did to him, you know. It’s your fault. He tells you so. And when you look up at him, eyes welled with tears, stammering out a question of what he means—

What did I ever d-do to you…?

—he realizes that it’s… difficult to give that question a concrete answer.

What did you do, really...?

The only problem that remains is how you rushed things. He was at least going to wait until you finished the project, but now it’s incomplete… do professors grant extensions if your partner goes missing…?

[naomijoestar]

Hewwo!! May I request a platonic bruno gang reacting to a team member who has like. A creepy doll fashion aesthetic? Like makeup and clothes make them look like a spooky porcelain doll? Idk if this makes sense 😭

Masterlist here <3

Ofc you can, and this makes perfect sense! I’m sorry for the late reply 🫶🏽, also I have noticed how much you interact and support me, I always see you in my inbox and I wanna thank you so much for that❤️

Bucci Gang with a member who has a creepy doll fashion aesthetic (platonic)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno is polite as always, though you can see a flicker of surprise when he first sees the new look. He leans in, his sharp eyes studying the details with interest. “You have quite a unique style,” he says thoughtfully, his tone carrying genuine appreciation. Though it’s unusual, he respects the confidence it takes to pull off such a distinct appearance. If anyone else reacts poorly, he’s quick to defend your aesthetic. “In our line of work, we’re not exactly traditional, are we?”

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio’s reaction is… complicated. At first, he just stares, his mouth pulling into a skeptical line. “Are we fighting enemies, or are you one of them?” he mutters, though there’s no real malice in it—just his trademark sarcasm. Over time, though, he becomes unexpectedly tolerant, even giving a rare compliment. “I suppose it’s better than whatever ridiculous things Mista throws together.” You’d catch him glancing every now and then, as if trying to figure out the logic behind the look, but he’ll never admit he’s intrigued.

Guido Mista

Mista’s first reaction? Pure shock. He almost jumps, then laughs nervously. “Geez, you look like one of those creepy dolls in horror movies,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Despite his initial fright, Mista warms up quickly and becomes obsessed with the details, poking at your outfit and asking questions about the makeup. He’s always trying to convince you to try other creepy accessories and suggesting wild horror-inspired looks. He’s one of the few who tries to add the doll aesthetic to his own wardrobe, with questionable results.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia doesn’t hold back—he’s visibly freaked out. “That’s freaky!” he exclaims, staring wide-eyed with a mix of awe and fear. He starts throwing questions your way. “How do you even make yourself look like that? Do you practice in the mirror? Doesn’t it hurt to keep such a serious face?” His curiosity overcomes his initial wariness, and he’ll sometimes follow you around, pestering you to teach him how to do some of the makeup tricks. He ends up respecting it as a “totally hardcore” look.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo does a double-take, and for a moment, you can tell he’s genuinely startled. His reaction, however, is more reserved compared to the others. “It’s… very specific,” he says carefully, trying not to sound rude. He’s probably the only one who might subtly encourage a less eerie style, especially if he thinks it might distract or unsettle the group. Still, he eventually realizes that your look actually gives you an air of mystique, and he learns to appreciate it in his quiet, slightly uncomfortable way.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno’s reaction is subtle but layered. The first time he sees you, his gaze lingers, taking in every detail with a discerning eye. Unlike the others, he doesn’t show surprise or discomfort; instead, he offers a small, approving smile. “You’ve crafted a look that stands out,” he says, and there’s genuine admiration in his voice. Giorno appreciates art and self-expression, and he understands that your aesthetic is more than just a “creepy” look—it’s a statement.

There you go ml <3 I hope you like this! I honestly think this was super cute especially because I personally love experimenting with aesthetics and love dressing up different! Also, if I’m not very active it is because I have been working on something special for my birthday (october 31st; yes, I was born on halloween 👻) 👀, I hope you guys will like it once its out, hehe 🙃

[luffyvace]

☆♪Ace x childhood best friend reader (who he has a crush on)☆♪

I’m trying to make my titles more appealing and fun to look at hopefully it’s working~!

(still not bothering with aesthetics this is something i personally wanna do)

For the record these are gender neutral so no worries

How y’all met? I’m not gonna go into specifics but you likely went into his territory

unless you met on one of his trips to the city for food n such

those three brothers are close and two didn’t trust easily back then

But once you make it in they’re circle there’s no backing down

from then on you always go to play with them and go on adventures together

they decided to keep you as a friend rather than a sibling

(back to present)~

ace honestly loves you because you accepted him, your cool, your (likely) strong whether that’s mentally or physically and most of all you’ve stuck by his side all this time

even him and luffy went they’re separate ways to become pirates

but you? You two met and have never separated since

you’ve literally kept your promise not to leave unlike no other

your always there

finally he has someone in his corner

and someone as cool as you?? How could he not fall in love 😍😍

Really he figured it out while just spacing out one day real early

like early enough to see the sunrise

he was just staring off, scouting just in case, although his mind was mostly on you

he laughed to himself thinking about memories of you two

and even more so that your still here

he noticed how nervous he now was to talk to you when you got up

he had a funny feeling in his stomach, his hands/breathing was jittery and he kept running his hand through his hair, trying to fight a smile

he was so incredibly nervous yet excited to see you!!

but why?! Today’s an ordinary day!

what is he some kind of love sick puppy?!…

lovesick?

LOVE???

WAIT WHAT THE CRAP HE NEVER CONSIDERED THAT!!

wait….no way, right?? He’s in love??

bro WHAT?! HE’S IN LOVE??

he’s..in love with (name)

wow…all this time he never even thought of that

NOW HE REALIZES HOW FLIRTY HE’S BEEN WITH YOU?!

it wasn’t even intentional!!

and now that he realizes it…….he always has the funny feeling every time he talks to you!

and his heart spikes when you call him!

bro…..wow.

*sits there in realization for the next hour*

how he acts when he has a crush:

Honestly he’s just trying to impress you and make you happy in every way

he acts chivalrous, paying for all the diners you stop at, opening doors, pulling out chairs, reminding you of things, grabbing your coat, doing you favors (ones you didn’t ask for but appreciate)

yes this is all very cliche and cheesy but you can’t go wrong with that right??

I mean…does it look like he knows how to love?! 😀

he never met either of his parents!! 😬🤦‍♀️

bro is trying his best okay?? 🤷‍♀️

he playfully shows off

he does it in a way that’s not annoying too, it doesn’t feel like he’s bragging when he does it

”hurrrr look at my big musclessss! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ”

LOLLL

he does it in a way that makes you laugh so it seems more like a joke

he gets you meaningful trinkets and stuff he remembers you like/said your wanted

when you two join the WBP

he also asks Marco and Izo for advice on how to act around you (just act normal bro)

as well as whitebeard!!

Thatch too

he rambled to literally everyone except you about you

then he has to beg and do favors for them not to tell you all the cheesy/embarrassing things he says

goodness Ace 🤦‍♀️

he goes around like a love sick puppy for a few weeks ranting about you and celebrating about becoming a man (😂💗)

but then when Marco asks when he’s gonna ask you out….

Ace FREAKS out.

like he literally forgot about that part-

IS IT TOO LATE?! DID YOU ALREADY FIND ANOTHER MAN??-

wait you two are childhood best friends you would’ve told him 🤨

oh.

okay well great!-

now……how does he confess?🧍‍♀️

seriously he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know what to say, do or give you

OR where to do it OR when OR if he’s even good enough OR if you won’t like him..

WAIT WHAT IF HE’S NOT A GOOD ENOUGH BOYFRIEND?!

wait..WHAT IF YOU DON’T LOVE HIM BACK⁉️

He’s feels like giving up already😞

theres so many women/men in the world why would you want some lost parentless pirate who questions his existence…

now when he goes to Marco and says all that he just laughs at him and calls him emo 😊

no but in all seriousness he brings Ace back to his senses and reminds him about what if you DO love him back 😏

😮🤩🤩

he forgot all about that!- (😀)

WAIT WHAT IF YOU DO LIKE HIM BACK!!

THIS IS SO EXCITING!!

him and Marco run to find izo and have a bro meeting immediately

which happens and the three immediately start planning the confession >:3

they put they’re heads together to conjure something they know you’d like but doesn’t seem too sappy

his confession !! 🤩

the next time the ship stops at an island he takes you to a calm beach area where you relax and have some fun all day

your nakama are around but it mostly just seem like the world is just you and Ace right now

midday is when Ace strikes!

this was izo’s idea

no! it’s not because if he had to wait the next day to interact with you as his girlfriend he wouldn’t get any sleep >:(

Ace brought the topic to your childhood past together as you ate lunch and at some point you didn’t notice he transitioned to how he feels about you and how much he cares about you and that it would be everything to him if you became his girlfriend.

now it’s your turn to ‘WAIT WHAT’ :)

that was so smooth!

you didn’t even notice he was trying to confess until the end!

Wow did that surprise you!

at least your muscles were still working so that you could nod your head because you certainly didn’t know what to say!

____________「what do you say?」____________

____________Yes. No.____________ ＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ (mini bonus): if you aspired to be a pirate, simply don’t mind or would like to support his dream, you joined the spade pirates! (Which obviously gets consumed into the whitebeard pirates, but hey your captain made the decision so you don’t mind). If your strong he’ll make you vice captain since your his first ever nakama. <3 otherwise you might be the navigator, medic or something else your good at! Likely not something that puts you in immediate danger though. He worries about the ones he loves leaving him too much for that.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED LOVLIES !! 🦋🦋

I need to write about ace more but I also needs get past the impel down arc but I also don’t (spoiler) wanna watch his death but I also wanna see more of his backstory and finish one piece and- ｡.:*｡.:*💥 _:(´o`」 ∠): …… d(￣ ￣) - I’m good

[reel-fear]

Whelp, Lone Wolf looks like it's gonna be continuing the trends I've disliked abt recent Bendy releases pretty well. Here are some of the things I noticed in the trailer and my thoughts about it in general. Yes they are mostly negative. They will also be in order of when these things show up in the trailer and some with timestamps & pictures.

So Bertrum is back! So so glad to see him and Bendyland return, I'm pretty willing to bet none of the BATDR cast will ever be seen again considering how forgettable most of them are, so I wouldn't hold my breath on that. I also however wouldn't hold my breath on seeing too many returning batim staff either considering how many of them are related to controversy now.

Bertie mentions it seems like something else has captured Joey's imagination and he's not as interested in Bendyland. I hope this is something like the machine or something and not Yet Another random Joey motivation thing/project to add to the timeline. Like Joey wanted to appease gods, become immortal, get money, get a family and Also do something else? Please just keep him consistent for two games in a row I'm begging.

Fun thing while watching the trailer watch how the video goes from having grey borders to weird black line borders and then none at all a few times. Our very polished and not at all rushed trailer folks.

Boris is using his batim model instead of the kinda weird one he had in BATDR which he shared with Tom. I'm glad for that though it is also a little strange he didn't get a newer one for a release all about him.

Why why why, are we going sci-fi now with all the machines and stuff? The ink machine was only really relevant in BATIM as the thing that brought these rubberhose monsters to life, there was no hint of all this... Nonsense in that game and I preferred it that way! Why do we have to also be like FNAF and lose that interesting aesthetic we started out with to become more like other more generic horror games? Why why why is Gent now the main focus I don't even think Gent was properly mentioned in BATIM?? Idk, I just thought the interesting personal drama of the hell-ish studio and the tortured residents in it was enough to carry the franchise, I didn't need an evil sci-fi company in the mix. I know BATDR already hinted at this direction but that doesn't mean this isn't still a massive leap from that game. We got shows of subtle but yes more advanced tech here and now we just outright have what look like turrents in the 1930s animation studio. Whyyyyy...

This animation looks bad. I'm allowed to finally say that right? Like the fluid simulation looks bad, the ink looks all chunky and low res, I mean it looks like the shit you see in that animated Food Fight movie. What is with the red? Why are we so eager to break the iconic pallete and art style THAT MADE THE GAMES UNIQUE. If I wanted to see a sci-fi adventure with blood and gore, I'D GO PLAY THE HUNDREDS OF OTHER GAMES THAT DO THAT BETTER!!! Don't remind me of better games I could be playing Mike! Why does Boris have a weird, anime ink, demonic power animation?? What is that???

Why are those things alive now, wasn't the bendy animatronic not doing anything enough of a disappointment? Why are we deciding only now to do something with them when most people are probably now gonna just be confused. Why are the machines alive? Did the ink machine do that? Did gent do that? Did the evil sci-fi company really see a boris themed animatronic and go 'ah yes the perfect evil killing machine for our evil motives'?? I have so many questions.

Also that thing was not designed by Lacie. At least the Bendy animatronic was designed in a way to be eerie but you could see how kids would find it appealing same way the Bendy cut outs were unnerving but also cute enough to pass as something kids would love. This is just. Childlish edgy design without considering that these were supposed to be designed with kids in mind. I wouldn't be so hard on this franchise for that if it wasn't something that was better IN PREVIOUS GAMES, like I mentioned with the bendy animatronic and such. Esp since it now has more competition with things like poppy playtime. I'm begging you guys if ur pc can handle Unreal Engine 5 please buy that instead of this garbage.

Also it seem this was the actual animatronic Tom stole the arm of since its design fits the redesign his robot arm got for dark revival. I don't really care too much about that but it is cool.

Now however for the scariest thing of all! Bendy's declining level of polish and increasingly rushed products! You've heard of the uncanny and weird expression Henry made in the cage trailer!

You've heard of the graphic novel being published with an obvious coloring mistake!

Now get ready for the ink demon's hooves stuttering and twitching like it were a poorly made physics object in the trailer for a game! [using a gif from the steam page since it shows it off really well]

I mean I shouldn't have to say anything more right? Like that's just inexcusable. We've reached modern Pokemon levels of not giving a fuck how bad our trailers look and still expecting people to buy it.

Now I'm gonna go into some stuff on the steam page for the game and then I'll get into some more general points:

Why does this franchise have such a hard time animating faces and humanoid characters? What is this Malice expression-

Also hints to the Boris is a person/Buddy thing? Are we keeping that? Is there just a separate version of Buddy for the games without any of the compelling parts of him in his book? Or is this now being used to reference something else?

Sammy shown off uh- touching a Banjo in a way that resembles playing it? Uh guys, could we not have given this trailer and steam page more time to clean these up a bit why are his movements so slow-

"Bendy: Lone Wolf™ will tests your ability to survive against ever increasing odds. Monsters and obstacles emerge from every direction as you journey into the rubberhose halls of the world's most evil animation studio. Every day is a challenge." Lmao rubberhose? Animation? I forgot those were parts of the franchise, after all you sucked them all out of the ink demon a while ago.

One of the gifs which I didn't feature has a jumpscare/flashing lights, I hope it will have a warning for those since Secrets Of The Machine still doesn't. I also don't know why we're keeping the jumpscares since most people rightfully made fun of how bad they were in the og game but. Idk taking feedback has never been good with this team.

Overall everything just kinda, sucks. the polish is gone from even the trailers. The art style becomes less of a factor with each game and the lore is so hard to keep track of even for die-hard fans. The comments on the trailers seem almost purely positive so far so that doesn't give me much hope they'll ever learn though... The top comment is a quote from DCTL too which is hilarious. Also Boris still has NO facial animations, even in his own game he'll never be an interesting character, why am I supposed to care abt saving him in BATIM again?

I'll be playing and checking it out more but probably only because I'm getting it for free since I had dark survival. Besides that yeah I wouldn't waste my money on it. I'll probably rip the assets to look at though. Can we please make some more critical comments on the youtube upload? I don't want people buying this garbage.

Anyways yeah just wanted to say all this, I'm gonna be working on more positive posts soon I promise and they will be Bendy related! Not the canon-stuff but the fanmade stuff so stay tuned! Bye!!

[whatspastisprologue-blr]

Memnoch the Devil gives me some of my favorite Lesmand interactions, even though, as is the case with all the books, I have to keep Assad Zaman's Armand in my mind because he just *is* Armand and so whenever he's described in the book it's honestly jarring to me.

Like, when they first see each other again and Lestat is genuinely happy to see him? And notes that Armand's voice "had no meanness in it at all". And basically calls him hot and then says he's "good to love". And then they hug each other! Willingly!

"We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn't tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn't. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard."

And then Lestat playfully ruffles Armand's hair! Which Armand doesn't mind. In fact, he smiles! And then playfully shoves Lestat back (actually, it hurt him) to show off a little. After which, we get this:

"I can't remember anything bad between us." I said.

"You will," he responded. "And so will I. But what does it matter what we remember?"

"Yes," I said, "we're both still here."

Armand laughs again and kisses Lestat a couple of paragraphs later, seemingly just for fun. And then, in this chapter (this is all just one chapter, guys), Armand basically gets to play Lestat for Lestat, in the sense that he gets to tell Lestat the exact same arguments that Lestat used to help Armand get free from the CoD. Both of them admit it.

Oh, yeah, and actually, Lestat wasn't expecting to see Armand! That was a surprise. Armand showed up (with David, ew, but maybe it'll be Daniel on the show) because he's worried about Lestat!

And then we get this hilariously petty exchange:

"Around this Dora, I've thrown a protective light. None of us can touch her."

"That goes without saying. I won't hurt your little friend. You wound me." He looked genuinely put out.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know. But I know what blood is and innocence and how delicious both can be. I know how much the girl tempts me."

"Then you must be the one to give in to that temptation," said Armand crossly. "I never choose my victims anymore, you know this. I can stand before a house as always, and out of the doors will come those who want to be in my arms. Of course I won't hurt her. You do hold old grudges. You think I live in the past. You don't understand that I actually change with every era, I always have as best I can."

(Seriously, AMC, give us this scene! Lestat warning Armand specifically, not David, to not hurt someone he cares about but also entrusting this person to Armand's care despite how it turned out previously. And then Armand being salty about it because jeez, Lestat, that was like, so long ago I can't believe you'd bring that up!)

Also, "I can stand in front of a house as always, and out of the doors will come those who want to be in my arms." Made me think of this:

Anyway, then we get to see this:

"Lestat, if you need me--" Armand said. "If this being tries to take you by force!"

"Why do you care about me?" I asked. "After all the bad things I did to you. Why?"

"Oh, don't be such a fool," he begged gently. "You convinced me long ago that the world was a Savage Garden. Remember your old poetry? You said the only laws that were true were aesthetic laws, that was all you could count on."

"Yes, I remember all that. I fear it's true. I've always feared it was true. I feared it when I was a mortal child. I woke up one morning and believed in nothing."

"Well, then, in the Savage Garden," said Armand, "you shine beautifully, my friend. You walk as if it is your garden to do with as you please. And in my wanderings, I always return to you. I always return to see the colors of the garden in your shadow, or reflected in your eyes, perhaps, or to hear of your latest follies and mad obsessions. Besides, we are brothers, are we not?"

A few paragraphs later, Lestat tells Armand (and David, but hopefully Daniel in the show), "I love you both."

All that in one chapter! I just wanted to share it because I feel like other great Lesmand moments get referenced a lot, such as Armand's line from Blood Communion:

"Fool," he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn't suppress. "I have always loved you," he said. "I have loved you more than any being in all the world whim I've ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it."

And, like, that's an epic quote. I love it. But there's more to their relationship than all the bad things and this one quote!

I want to see Lestat do his part to destroy the CoS, including his "Gentleman Death" speech. I want to see Armand's attack on Lestat, him pleading to Lestat to let him accompany him and Gabrielle (promising to be Lestat's servant if that's what it takes), and Lestat rejecting him, partly because of their past and because he knows Armand needs to figure himself out apart from anyone else. I want to see Lestat entrust Nicki to Armand and then get the letter of how Armand chopped Nicki's hands off. I want to see the torture leading up to the play where Lestat is forced to watch Claudia die. I want to see Armand push Lestat off the tower. Because those are pivotal moments in their relationship, too! In particular, Armand attacking Lestat is basically why Lestat never pursues the sort of relationship that Armand wants, even though I would argue the love and affection is there, and that Lestat himself might wish differently at times.

All that pain and horror and tragedy, and then they both agree they can't remember any of it, and that even if/when they do, it's water under the bridge. "You shine beautifully, my friend." "I love you [.]"

Forgiveness is, for me, one of the most important themes of the Vampire Chronicles and, in my opinion, the Lesmand relationship is one of the best examples.

[altocat]

all 50 of those Honest fave character prompts for Sephiroth

( @izunias-meme-hole )

........*cracks knuckles* OKAY.

1. Do you project onto this character?

All the time, every day. Like Sephiroth, I can often be avoidant, depressed, and overly attached to my loved ones. The struggle is real lmao

2. Did you always like this character?

Before falling into fandom hell, I didn't really notice him much other than Kingdom Hearts stuff. Or the occasional thirst post online.

3. What first drew you to this character?

Crisis Core making him a sad soft baby that everyone is mean to lmao

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

No. I always thought he had a cool design and a badass voice.

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

Of course! Sephiroth is a fascinating character regardless. His backstory is very unique and I don't think that would change.

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

I mostly just call him Seph. Sometimes Kittyroth. Sometimes "Mr. Compassion" whenever I'm being sarcastic about him. And sometimes just SMUGFUCK because that's what he is.

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

Nah. Like I said, he's a fascinating character regardless.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

I feel like there are certain aspects of his character that you NEED to keep in--his catlike pupils, silver hair, etc. They are plot-related indicators of his heritage and genetics. Thirstposts aside, they are reminder that he is a lab-grown monster with alien blood running through his veins.

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Not really. Seph is pretty unique. And honestly I'd rather not know someone like him irl lolol

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

Physically? Hell no. Emotionally? Sometimes. But that's on rare occasions where we can actually tell what he's thinking and feeling.

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Watching Crisis Core cutscenes one rainy night in 2021.

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

AU Redemption arc trilogy in which Zack and Aerith save Sephiroth from himself and he dismantles Shinra to become the planet's hero.

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

I'd really like to illustrate a lot of fic scenes. Especially the trippier Jenova-focused ones.

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

...Yeah lmao But I don't ship myself or my self-insert with him because NO lolol I think he's aesthetically pleasing but I don't associate myself with him in any romantic sense. That's just weird to me.

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

Non-sexual. I'm more interested in his character progression/fall into villainy. Like yeah he's attractive and there are some seductive aspects of his personality. But he's just more interesting to dissect as a villain.

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

Several times lolol usually after First Soldier updates.

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

Miiiight have happened once in dms with other fans (thanks @heraldofcrow)

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

SUFFER. SUFFERRRRRRR 😈NO COMFORT FOR YOU ALL IS PAIN AND ANGUISH.

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

Oh totally. All the time. Imagine cute aggression but it's more angsty lol Angst aggression.

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

For Sane!Sephiroth, yes. Very much so. Not so much after Nibelheim. Then he's just an evil little shit who needs to get clowned by Cloud again.

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

Platonic-familial. He's my precious baby boy. Who I have to hurt. LET ME HURT HIM.

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

I hope so! Assuming Square doesn't do something stupid.

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I'm HERE. lmao There's your evidence.

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

I never have dreams about him and it makes me SO MAD SZDFGHFDSA EVERYONE ELSE GETS BLORBO DREAMS EXCEPT FOR ME.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

I mostly like character studies. Or slow-burn AU fics with him. I'm currently reading The Fear of Falling Stars and it's sooooo good.

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

It really depends on the fic tbh.

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

I SHIP HIM WITH EVERYONE *feral noises*

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

Only in select instances. I don't like the dudebro logic of "well Sephiroth was always arrogant/evil even before Nibelheim and he can't be vulnerable or sensitive because that's not badass" because those are fundamentally not true. And an extreme disservice to his writing.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

He makes me sad. His story is heartbreaking.

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

Nope. Not at all.

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Pumpkin soup, of course!

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

Oh not at all. I have said many many times and will keep saying that Sephiroth does not deserve a happy ending after everything he's done. He deserves to be destroyed for good. He's NOT a good guy, not any more at least. He's caused so much damage in so many horrible ways. There's no going back from that. I love the guy and I feel for him. But that's still no excuse for what he did.

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

Uhhhh no.

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

@ me whenever First Soldier updates.

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

Idk. Probably not. He's my angsty trauma son. But I wouldn't go THAT far lol

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

Nope. I will literally never shut up about Sephiroth to family or friends lololol

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

NO because Sephiroth is a villain and the goal is to not become like him lolol

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

Nope. He just makes me casually distraught.

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

Very much so. Like I said before, his story is heartbreaking. I've ugly cried about him so many times in the past.

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

Other than background OCs, no. I prefer mostly just his relationship with canon characters.

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

It'd be cool to do something creepy with his relationship with Jenova...

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

Rainy days. Because he's depressing.

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

Fall.

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

At this point, I'd really like to hope so. They have certainly added a lot of new stuff that feels on point with my previous ideas for him. But I'm open to new stuff too!

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

It really depends on how they characterize him as a person before Nibelheim. I don't really like how people sometimes equate his evil/smug/arrogant post-Nibelheim personality with his CC-era one. They're really completely different.

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

He made some the FUNNIEST goddamn faces in Rebirth, just sayin'.

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

R trilogy has the best overall design. Hair, eyes, and the sheer SIZE of him. All perfect.

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

Sane!Seph: His love for his friends

Insane!Seph: Him being a huge petty dick just for the sake of it

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

UHHHHHHHHHHH I'm just going to cheat and say THIS ENTIRE COMMUNITY because Seph-fans are BEST fans and we get along and get shit done. Best content. Best fandom space. No in-fighting or drama on his character. We're ALL peak 😎

[aeternallis]

A Deep Dive: Kim’s Fight Scene in Yok’s Bar

I’ve been thinking about this scene a lot lately, and I just have so many thoughts on it. 

Like low-key, but imo what makes this scene so mesmerizing yet also chilling at the same time is the fact that Kim never eliminates the possibility of Chay turning around at any time and witnessing Kim kill in order to protect him. 

Whereas Porsche tends to protect Chay by keeping him from seeing the reality of the mafia life (and tragically blindsides both himself and his brother because of it; Chay because he remains ignorant of his new environment and Porsche because his judgement of the risks in keeping Chay ignorant is impaired due to his overprotectiveness), Kim protects him only from the danger of it.

It’s an all around interesting narrative choice from BOC, especially considering that it’s Kim’s one fight scene in the entire series. 

I’ve seen many posts on here before of how Kim leaves the dead bodies for Chay like a feral cat or that he really took the mantra “nobody disturbs my man” up a notch or two, and while I definitely agree with all that on a surface level, I can’t help but think there’s so much more going on. Dare I say, maybe even a little manipulative? Hmm. 

Because for reals, there’s a reason why this fight scene makes such an impression on so many fans--the KimChay fans (including myself), in particular--and I think it’s because so much of the context of the fight, as much as the fight itself and the events leading up to it, reveals so much about Kim’s character post-break up w/ Chay. 

Like yes, there’s the aesthetic reasons and ofc, Jeff Satur and that beautiful face of his that looks like it was sculpted on a Saturday by the gods, but there’s just so much to be said in the way he’d fought and more importantly, ended the fight. 

@wildelydawn​ wrote up an amazing meta post  about how Kim fights, for which I highly recommend y’all read if you haven’t already. I definitely agree with the idea that Kim likes to play with his prey when he fights; he knows how to improvise and use his environment as sources of weapons, and he’s definitely got a bit of a sadistic streak going for him, lol. 

Now, where am I going with this? Well, let’s very briefly look at the events leading up to the fight: from the moment they break up in ep 11, to one of the very last scenes in ep 13 when Kim finds out that Porsche and Chay have left the tower, somewhere in between those events, Chay had become Kim’s singular goal and most important priority. Whereas before his goal had been to investigate Porsche and Chay’s connection to the Theerapanyakun family, directly after the break up is when this plotline falls through because his investigation hits a dead end at the temple. 

For me personally, methinks it’s the moment he finds out that Chay skipped his college interview in ep 12 and what a massive fuck up he’d just committed. As much as I adore him as a character, I don’t really think he knew the repercussions of his own actions until it was too late, alas. Ultimately, he’s not responsible for Chay’s choices, but he can’t deny that his previous actions influenced them. 

Whether it was wanting to confess his own feelings to Chay, or perhaps setting him straight because he skipped his college interview, or wanting to keep him safe, or even just to talk to him and clear the air--the point is, regardless of his reason(s), getting to Chay becomes his next target. And more than that, once Kim sets his crosshairs on a goal--especially on this one person he’s got a romantic attachment to--he is positively ruthless. 

You barely see it from how fast the camera cuts out, but if you pause at just the right moment, you can see how Kim’s expression is absolutely seething when Korn stops him from going to look for the Kittisawasd brothers (or perhaps even just Chay himself). 

This is the expression of someone who’s more than willing to obliterate anyone who gets in the way of him and his goal. This is an expression of utter resentment. This is the expression of someone who’s itching for a fight, because the universe dared to get in between him and his goal. 

(Side bar: I’m pretty sure part of the reason Jeff got the role of Kim Theerapanyakun is because of how intense his method acting can be. He doesn’t have many roles under his belt just yet, but if you haven’t seen He She It, I recommend giving it a go. His acting in that mini drama is a little rough around the edges, but the raw intensity by which he plays the character of Mike definitely highlights some of Jeff’s natural talent. He knows how to act with his eyes and his entire body, and when given the right director to guide him, as we’ve seen when he portrays the role of Kim, he truly thrives in his role.)

Yet still, for all his anger at being prevented by his father from getting to his goal, he’s mindful enough to know that he can’t just go against his orders either. Korn is the enemy of an entirely different caliber, and Kim perfectly knows how and when to pick his battles.

But it isn’t until we see him in the next ep quietly watching Chay from the bar that another facet of his character growth is revealed to us: by this point in time, he’s comfortable in his feelings for Chay enough that he can finally allow himself to luxuriate in his presence, even whilst knowing he’s in the metaphorical dog house.

His arms are propped up, his legs are loosely crossed, his body language is relaxed, whilst still very much aware of his surroundings. Keep in mind, this is the first time since the morning of the kidnapping that we see him perfectly content in Chay’s presence, now fully aware that there’s no reason for lies between them anymore. The only one left is the one he has to fix.

Yet, after all this time of trying to get ahold of Chay ( @bitacrytic​ wrote an interesting piece about Kim’s unsettling behavior when he realized Chay had cut him off, which I also highly recommend), why didn’t he take the opportunity to talk (or whatever it is he intended to do) when he was finally within sight? The camera shot of Chay talking to Yok on his phone, as well as of Kim sitting on the stool, lingers for a good 20-25 secs, so the audience is given a hint that Kim has been there for a while.

So why not take advantage of this chance?

And the answer to this question, I think, is what’s at the heart of the matter and basically defines the connotation of the entire fight.

Kim is not a fool, he knows for the time being he’s number 1 on Chay’s shit list. And because of this, it may be a stretch to say it, but I will anyway: perhaps off screen, from the moment he had him within sight, Kim may have realized that it would do him no good to talk to Chay at that moment. Not when there’s an imminent threat lying in wait, not when the heartbreak is still too raw for both of them. 

Most of all, Chay has no reason to trust him right now; it would just be a repeat of their disastrous confrontation in the club.

And he knows all too well that he cannot afford to sabotage what truly little standing he has left in Chay’s good graces. So he plays it cautious and takes the next best thing: he’ll bask in Chay’s presence, keep him company (albeit one-sided). If you scroll back up real quick and see his expression in the promotional image, it’s almost as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘keep your eyes on the prize--on him. he’s the only one that truly matters.’ 

But even so, Chay’s safety is his priority for the moment and there’s just so many reasons Kim is itching to vent some anger and frustration: the boy he loves has cut him off completely, Daddy is hatching up some plan again, besides the ongoing 4D chess game he’s got going on with all his sons, his investigation led him nowhere. Yet lo and behold, here comes some goons who not only disturbed his peaceful serotonin-gathering session (unbeknownst to Chay), but are also looking to either use the love of his life as leverage in a conflict that barely has anything to do with him, or just outright kill him. 

Really, no one can blame Kim for going a little overboard, not when these poor suckers basically offered themselves to him on a silver platter. Lol 

While I won’t go too deep into analyzing the physicality or choreography of the fight itself, I’d like to instead focus on all the things Kim chose/chose not to do, which again, says so much about his character and brings me back to my overarching thesis for this long ass rant: Kim never eliminates the possibility of Chay turning around at any time and witnessing Kim kill in order to protect him.

Kim doesn’t call out for Chay to run: this makes sense, it’s a practical choice; he doesn’t want these men to draw their attention on Chay. So long as they’re focused on him, so long as he distracts them--he can kill them one by one. 

Kim doesn’t draw the men away from the bar: an interesting choice that seems like it never crosses Kim’s mind. He’s more than agile enough to have led them away from where they’d entered, yet he keeps them all inside. 

Kim didn’t wait for them outside: another interesting choice. Arguably, it would have been more efficient for him to have taken some bodyguards and do a stake out. Further still, it’s also arguable this choice is more an emotional one (he wants Chay where he can see him, dammit), but that’s up for debate. 

Kim waits until the last possible second to use a gun: a risky choice, but he pulled it off quite well. He doesn’t go for the gun until the goons have him surrounded within Chay’s vicinity, so he goes for fast kills to end the fight even if it’s not his personal preference. Imo, it’s very obvious throughout the fight that he finds some satisfaction in twisting limbs and breaking bone, so good on him that he got to indulge for a bit. 

And finally, immediately right after the fight, he never tries to pull this one over Chay’s head: 

This one is pretty self-explanatory, I think. Hahaha. 

But after Kim shoots the last man, he doesn’t linger for too long. Which again, why doesn’t he take advantage of yet another chance that’s fallen onto his lap to talk to Chay? The danger has been dealt with for now, after all. Why not at least attempt at some sort of clean up, maybe pile the bodies on one corner so Chay doesn’t trip over them? :’D If not to talk to Chay, why not at least linger in the shadows, to make sure Chay is all right (he’s bound to turn around eventually)? 

Instead, he walks away, still panting a bit from the fighting and without a doubt, from the adrenaline rush. His body language is hard to read because his silhouette is blurred, but it’s at this point that BOC could have easily concluded this scene. 

They could have left this scene as is, and made the aftermath of the fight as vague as possible, because for what it’s worth, it would have still accomplished one of the main points for KimChay: Kim’s priority is Chay’s immediate safety. 

But it’s not the end of the scene. BOC made damn sure that we would see the aftermath, and with it--the changed dynamic between these two characters and the very implications of it. They didn’t leave it vague whatsoever, they pretty much shoved it in our faces. 

This scene--this f*cking scene RIGHT HERE--blows wide open a potential trajectory of KimChay’s love story if/when we ever get a season 2.

I think for the first and only time in the show, this shot of Kim sitting on the stairway, enjoying a cigarette after a murder spree, mind you—is the first time we see him fully stripped away of any pretenses in not only the way he loves and protects someone, but how far he can get lost within his own emotions when he has no reason to hold back. He doesn’t even look the least bit concerned for Chay’s emotional well-being, because that’s not his priority when he chose to leave those men lying on the bar’s floors. 

If anything, in this specific situation, not holding back benefits him greatly. 

For the first time, his character in the show is explicitly elevated to the same level of batshit insane as Kinn and Vegas, perhaps even beyond them.

We’ve seen how WiK had won over Chay, of how tender Kim could be with him, but the fight in Yok’s bar and the conclusion of it afterwards, demonstrates how far Kim’s sharpest, most deadliest aspect of himself—Kimhan, will go in order to win back Chay. Even in trying to get Chay within his orbit once more, he remains just as calculating: he doesn’t let his own gut instinct (actually wanting to talk with Chay) get the better of him; he uses the situation, in this case--even Chay--to give himself the best advantage. Can you imagine how terrifying that is? 

It’s no wonder Korn calls him the strongest, yet most dangerous of the Theerapanyakul heirs: regardless of whether Kim holds back or not depending on the given situation, he remains just as sharp, just as deadly, just as cunning. In the first KP novel, Korn presents a question to the readers indirectly: in their world, is love a weakness or is it strength?

For Kim, the answer is obvious: it’s a weakness, but he won’t allow it to be one for himself or for Chay. 

And due to all this, there’s only one conclusion I can come up with as to what this shot of Kim sitting on the stairway outside Yok’s bar was trying to accomplish:

Kim—this conniving, devious, gorgeous motherfucker—absolutely wanted Chay to see the dead bodies now littering Yok’s bar.

In fact, I can even argue that he seemed to have been waiting for confirmation that Chay saw his “present.” That he had all the time in the world to make sure his bae got a good look at his kills.

Why, you ask? Simple. Kim trusts Chay’s backbone made of steel. He trusts him to be able to handle it. Why else would he let himself enjoy a smoke after killing 6 people in 6 mins? Why doesn’t he look concerned?! Why not give Chay some comfort, goddamn...! We know this fucker is in love w/ Chay, the dumbass was crying over his polaroids earlier that day. //sobs 

But in all seriousness...Kim has firsthand experience of going up against it, doesn’t he? He himself saw how determined Chay could be when he cut himself off entirely from Kim, both from when he pulled his hand away in the club and then blocking his number a day or two later. I don’t necessarily think it’s that Kim overestimated Chay’s love for him, but rather he initially underestimated Chay’s resilience in keeping him away after breaking his heart so terribly.

This son of a bitch (affectionate) sobbed his pathetic heart out after finding out Chay blocked his number, probably took a good look at himself (and Chay’s cute polaroids), and came to one conclusion: “yeah, Chay can handle me. I can go all in now.”

In fairness, Chay’s steadfastness can only improve and strengthen from here on out. Kim--although in love with Chay, but does have his moments of volatile moods and cold verbal wit--is not an easy person to love, as Chay is slowly finding out the hard way. He must be able to confidently call Kim out when the latter needs to be reminded to respect him, that Chay will not take any of his shit. 

Ironically enough, in creating an original story for these two characters in the show, it also brings them closer to the dynamic they have in the novel, imo. I myself have only read parts of the novel, and because we barely see KimChay in the book, it’s hard to tell how much closer show!KimChay is to novel!KimChay, but there’s hints of some similarities here and there in terms of character dynamics. Make of that what you will~ 

Let’s play Devil’s Advocate for a hot sec though, and address the rebuttal: “but won’t this only drive Chay further away from Kim and a life in the mafia?”

My answer to that is: will it though? Chay has more reasons to stay in the world Porsche forced him to enter than he ever has in leaving it. BOC cemented this fact when they decided to keep Namphueng alive, nevermind the fact that Chay’s one positive, healthy parental figure, is now the minor family head and as much as he’d like for it not to be true, he’s still in love with Kim. 

But to reiterate, Kim trusts Chay’s backbone made of steel in a way that Porsche doesn’t (again, due to aforementioned overprotectiveness, which also serves as the fundamental difference in how they both protect Chay). But the reasoning behind placing his trust in Chay isn’t entirely selfless either. 

He trusts Chay to be able to handle the disturbing scene of the dead bodies he left behind, because he has something to gain from it.

By leaving behind the dead goons for him to find, Kim inadvertently breaks another piece of Chay’s upright perception of the world, ensnares him further into Kim’s reality—and most of all, to Kim himself.

It’s a terrifying level of honesty (and wooing??) coming from Kim because it’s so brutal in its execution. What makes it even more frightening is that he’s genuinely doing this out of his desire to be with Chay. His priority during the fight is Chay’s safety, yes, but his overarching goal after their break up remains the same: to get Chay back. 

It drives home the fact that although Kim loves only a handful of people in his life, he loves them fiercely to the point of questionable insanity.

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Being Ghosted (2/4?)

Summary: Killian and Liam Jones are called in to help with the haunting of an old carriage house where a skeleton was recently found walled up within the cellar. This is no ordinary ghost hunt for the supernatural fighting brothers, however. This job will require Killian to face the person who has been haunting him for nearly a year. Emma Swan. The woman he ghosted.

A/N: Yeah, yeah. I know the holiday season is in full swing and we ought to be done with the spooky stuff, but I love a Victorian/Dickensian Christmas aesthetic that leaves room for good old ghost stories. This addition gives me a BINGO for my Fall/Spooky card (better late than never) and will likely have two additional parts to come.

Shout out to @kmomof4 for her exceptional beta skills!

Rated T / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

Leaves rustled overhead, clinging to branches that were ready to be freed of them as the crisp autumn breeze coaxed them from their perch and gently swirled them to the ground below. Those with the misfortune of landing on the pavement were crunched beneath the tires of Killian Jones’ Chevelle, pulling up in front of an old carriage house that was being renovated into a home.

A home for Emma Swan. A home she recently began to share with her boyfriend. A home where the two resided, sharing all of the intimacies he desperately wished he could have shared with her. Intimacies and quiet moments and heated arguments and passionate make up sessions and mundane chores and yes… even their current plight.

A haunting.

Killian would have willingly faced it all with her had circumstances been different, which, he supposed, was why he was here now.

“You ready for this, little brother?” Liam questioned after Killian had put the car in park and shut off the engine.

“Younger,” Killian reminded him in his usual exasperated tone, pushing open the driver’s side door and climbing out while side-stepping his well-meaning brother’s inquiry.

The front door of the carriage house opened and a man exited, greeting them hesitantly, “You must be the Jones brothers?”

“We are,” Liam said, approaching the man with an outstretched hand. “I’m Liam. This is my brother, Killian. Are you the owner?”

“Uh, no,” the man said, shaking Liam’s hand then stuffing his hands in his pocket with an acknowledging nod towards Killian. “I’m Neal Cassidy. My girlfriend’s the one who called you. She technically owns the place, but we both live here.”

Something in Killian’s gut twisted, the ache intensifying when Emma emerged from the carriage house, looking as stunning as he remembered but without the warmth and affection he’d last received from her.

“You guys must be exhausted,” she said after introducing herself to his brother and barely giving him her notice. “We’ve made up the guest room and there’s a pullout in the office.” Turning to her beau, she placed a loving hand on his arm and sweetly suggested, “Why don’t you show Killian to the office and I’ll take Liam up to the guest room.” Addressing Liam - and only Liam - once more, she said, “After you two get settled, we can take you down to the cellar where this all started.”

“That sounds grand,” Liam said, gesturing towards the carriage house. “Lead the way, lass.”

As they filed in, Liam looked back at Killian over his shoulder. His expression echoed that which Killian was already telling himself.

He had fucked up.

Badly.

“So,” Cassidy began, showing Killian into the office where the pull out couch had already been made up for him. “How do you know Emma? She wasn’t really clear on the details.”

Dropping his duffle on the bed, Killian busied himself with rifling through his supplies, attempting to keep a neutral tone. “What details did she share?”

“Something about a dare and the cemetery and not wanting to talk about the experience because it had been too intense.”

Killian let out a commiserating hum. “Intense is certainly one word for it,” he murmured, the memory of Emma laid out beneath him, kissing the holy hell out him while making sounds that haunted him to this day flashed through his mind and tightened the fit of his jeans.

Unwilling to betray Emma’s confidence, and not exactly eager to share the details of their acquaintance with her current paramour either, Killian shifted the conversation to the matter at hand. “As I understand it, the paranormal activity began after the two of you uncovered skeletal remains in the cellar. Is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Cassidy replied, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought Emma was crazy at first when she insisted we had a ghost. I mean… you know how irrational women can be.”

Killian chafed at the man’s derisive tone. “If there’s one thing I know about Emma, mate,” Killian informed him with a slight edge to his words, “it’s that her instincts should never be dismissed.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Cassidy back pedaled. “I believe her now. Kind of hard not to when a ghost appears over your bed while you’re trying to convince your girl she’s not too tired to fulfill her duties. You know what I mean?”

Fists balled, Killian took a deep breath and tried to rein in his anger. He was saved from doing anything rash by the sounds of his brother’s voice.

“Ready to check out the cellar?”

“Aye,” Killian clipped out, following after Liam and resisting the urge to shoulder check the repulsive man who had somehow fallen into Swan’s good graces - and her bed (not that he wished to dwell on that fact) - as he passed.

Emma led them down a steep flight of steps into the cold, dark, and dank space below. The atmosphere had an immediate effect on Killian, raising the hair along the back of his neck and giving him the eerie feeling of being watched.

“This was part of the original structure, yes?” Liam asked, shining his flashlight into the inky black corners the dim bulb at the bottom of the stairs couldn’t quite reach.

“Yeah,” Emma answered, lingering by the stairs with Cassidy as the Jones men looked around. “From what I understand, it was cold storage for oats and hay and other food stuffs for the horses lodged here when it was a carriage house.” Gesturing towards an opening, she continued, “I noticed that space had been bricked up and I wanted to open it back up. That’s when I found…”

“The body,” Killian supplied, casting a glance towards her and meeting her eye for the first time since he’d arrived. His heart clenched, the look on her face making him wish he could have spared her such a discovery. Perhaps if it had been he who had been there… No. There was nothing to be gained in thinking that way now. The past was the past and there was no changing it.

“And you called the police?” Liam confirmed, searching the area where the skeleton had been found.

“Of course we did,” Cassidy scoffed. “What else were we supposed to do?”

Killian and Liam exchanged a look. Neither of them could fault their decision, but they both knew, had it been them, they would have handled it much differently.

“And how soon after the body was removed did the occurrences begin?”

“Almost immediately,” Emma answered. “It started with noises on these steps.” She gestured at the stairs they’d used to access the cellar, the tension in her demeanor evident in the stiff, closed-off way she stood in the unsettling space.

“Noises?” Liam questioned. “Like footsteps?”

“No,” she replied. “More like… something falling down them. Then things actually started crashing down them.”

“What do you mean?” Killian pressed, his concern heightening as she continued.

“If we leave anything sitting in the hallway outside the cellar door, it will eventually make its way down here. Clearly having taken a tumble down the stairs.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy said, backing her up. “I thought it was the authorities being careless, because we had a parade of crime scene personnel traipsing through here for weeks after we reported the body.”

“But you knew it was more than that, didn’t you, Swan?”

Emma locked eyes with Killian. He could tell his question had brought back the memory of her first ghostly encounter. She swallowed hard and for a moment it was as though they were the only two people there.

“Rooms would get cold,” she told him in a quiet voice; her words conveying all the nuance and unspoken truths she knew he would understand in a way her boyfriend had not. “I would hear things. Smell things. Things I hadn’t experienced in all the months I spent renovating the upper levels.”

“What sort of smells?”

His brother broke the reverie that had momentarily linked them, snapping the connection that reminded Killian of what they had once shared.

“Um,” Emma began, shaking herself and focusing on the question. “Leather? Hay? Like a barn, but without the pungent animal smells. More how I’d imagine this place was when it was an active carriage house, I guess.”

“So, he could have been killed here during that time,” Killian said to his brother

“Agreed. We’ll need to learn more about the building’s history.” Addressing Emma once more, Liam inquired, “You told Killian the authorities had yet to identify the remains, is that correct?”

“Yeah. But they did issue a cause of death. Blunt force trauma and a broken neck.”

“Injuries one might sustain from falling or being pushed down a flight of stairs,” Killian remarked. “It would certainly explain the occurrences surrounding the cellar steps.”

“My friend Belle is the town librarian and she has access to city records,” Emma informed them. “When you agreed to come, I asked her to pull anything that might tell us the history of the carriage house. Who owned it. Who may have worked here. Things like that. She said she’d try and have a file ready for when you got here.”

“Good thinking, love,” Killian praised, unaware of the endearment he’d let slip until Cassidy shot him an affronted glare then suspiciously flicked his gaze to Emma’s pinked cheeks before sending another hard look Killian’s way.

Clearing his throat, Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear, turning his attention towards Liam and suggesting, “Before we go any further, we should ascertain what sort of spirit we’re dealing with.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked.

Killian couldn’t help the smug feeling that went through him at the sight of her pulling away from Cassidy’s attempt to wrap a possessive arm around her waist. She took a step towards the center of the room where Liam was already pulling supplies out of the bag he’d brought with him.

“There are generally two kinds of spirits who refuse to move on,” Liam told her. “Malevolent ones who were equally nasty while alive, and those who simply have unfinished business they feel compelled to resolve before they can find peace.”

“Malevolent spirits refuse to leave,” Killian added. “Hell bent on punishing or exacting revenge against the living. The only way to be rid of them is to--”

“Salt and burn their bones,” Emma said, causing Cassidy to balk behind her.

“How did you know--”

“Aye,” Killian said, cutting Cassidy off. “Which will be somewhat difficult to accomplish, seeing as they are still in the medical examiner’s possession.”

“So…” Emma drawled, joining he and Liam as they continued to set up the space for the task they would need to perform. “Best case scenario would be this spirit just having unfinished business?”

“That won’t necessarily make matters any easier,” Liam informed her. “Figuring out a spirit’s unfinished business isn’t usually as straightforward as salting and burning bones.”

“So, how do we determine which kind of spirit it is?”

“Ems, the thing attacked us while we were making love,” Cassidy said, being sure to emphasize the making love part as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “The thing is obviously bad news.”

“We weren’t--” Emma began, mortification giving way to irritation as she looked back at him then shook her head and said, “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” Looking down at the two brothers as they finished lighting the circle of candles they’d set out, she said, “As I told Liam upstairs, when he manifested he didn’t look threatening. He had his hands over his mouth--” she raised hers to mimic what the spectre had looked like, “--but was clearly trying to tell us something when he vanished almost as quickly as he appeared.”

“Well,” Liam said, pulling the last piece of the equipment from his bag, “This will hopefully allow him to tell us what he tried to communicate with you.”

A belittling snort escaped Cassidy. “A ouija board? Be serious.”

“I assure you, mate. We are quite serious,” Killian informed him as he took a seat upon the cold, cellar floor alongside his brother. “But if the idea of communing with the dead is too much for you, then feel free to sit outside while we conduct our investigation.”

Clearly catching the challenge to his courage, Cassidy grit his teeth and grumbled in Emma’s ear. “Can you believe this guy?”

“Neal,” Emma sighed with a tone of censure. “Shut up and sit down.”

Entering into the circle, Emma lowered herself onto the stone floor and crossed her legs beneath her. Reluctantly, Cassidy followed, a disgruntled look passing over his features in response to the sitting arrangement that had placed him between Emma and Liam instead of separating her from Killian.

“A few ground rules before we get started,” Liam began, holding the planchette in his hands.

“I think we’ve all played with ouija boards before,” Cassidy interrupted rudely, earning him a stern stare from the elder Jones.

“Aye,” Liam responded with a cutting edge to his words. “You may well have, but what we are preparing to do is not child’s play. We are opening a portal to the spirit realm, and for all our safety, precautions must be taken and adhered to.”

Cassidy shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing more.

“Go on,” Emma urged. “We’ll do whatever you tell us to.”

“Right,” Liam began again. “Once we’ve placed our hands on the planchette, they must remain there until the session is concluded. I shall be the only one addressing the spirits, so you must refrain from talking or reacting. And when it becomes clear that the spirits are finished communicating, we must all close the session together by moving the planchette to goodbye. This is the only time we intentionally guide it. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. The seriousness of their endeavor hung heavily around them as Liam continued.

“I’m going to set the planchette on the board, but before anyone touches it, we need to attune the space.” Setting the planchette down, Liam extended his hands to Killian and Cassidy, saying, “Everyone needs to join hands and focus on the spirit we wish to call forth.”

Killian took his brother’s hand then opened the other to receive Emma’s. When she tentatively placed her hand in his, Killian glanced up at her face. They locked eyes for a brief moment before she flicked hers away, but Killian knew his touch was having the same effect on her that her touch was having on him. There was no mistaking the familiar physical tension they’d once shared under similar circumstances.

“Focus on the person we seek,” Liam instructed. “We know him to be a man. We know there is something he wishes to communicate. We know this space was his final resting place until a few weeks ago. However you choose to manifest him within your mind, hold that image there and focus on him.”

Difficult as it was, Killian tried to push aside thoughts of Swan and the feel of her hand in his. Even still, she remained a fixture in his attempt to concentrate. She was there when he thought of the man’s body being discovered. She was there when he imagined how he may have looked when he’d manifested himself to her. She was there with every noise, every scent, every strange occurrence that had led her to reaching out to the one person she knew could help her. Despite the tragic circumstances that led the man to being walled up within the cellar, Killian could not help but feel gratitude to the spirit who had brought Emma Swan back into his life.

“Right,” Liam said a moment later. “With the man still centered in everyone’s mind, place your hands on the planchette.”

Killian sucked in a breath at the loss of her hand, but quickly schooled his emotions and joined the others, placing his hands upon the planchette and readying himself for what was to come.

“We call forth the spirit of the man found concealed behind the wall in this cellar,” Liam called out. “We ask that he come forth and tell us his name. What is your name, spirit?”

The temperature dropped and several of the candle’s flames flickered. Killian could hear Emma’s rapid breaths over the pounding of his own heart.

“Spirit!” Liam called out again. “We invite you to tell us your name!”

A gasp fell from Emma’s lips when the planchette jerked beneath their fingers. With wide, green eyes, she cast her gaze towards Killian as the planchette slid across the board. He gave her a look of encouragement, hoping his own gaze conveyed that there was nothing to fear - that he would not let any harm come to her - before her eyes fell back to the board and the word being spelled out beneath their fingers.

“D-A-N-I-E-L,” Liam read out as the planchette roamed across the board. “Daniel? Your name is Daniel?”

Yes

“What is it you want, Daniel?”

H-E-L-P

“You need help? That’s why we’re here. How can we help you to move on?”

H-E-L-P

“We understand. How can we help? What do you need us to do?”

T-E-L-L-H-E-R

“Tell her? Her who? You want us to deliver a message to someone?

Yes

“You need to tell us who. Who is her?”

L-O-V-E

“Someone you loved?”

Yes

“What’s her name?”

R-R-R-R-R-R-R … No

“No? No, what?”

No

“We don’t understand. No, you don’t want to tell us her name?”

C-A-N-T

“You can’t?”

C-A-N-T

“Why can’t you?”

C-C-C-C-C-C

Killian leaned over and whispered into his brother’s ear. “Another spirit maybe? Interference from another entity?”

“Is there another spirit with us? Someone who does not want you to communicate with us?”

Yes

Killian removed his hands from the planchette, earning him a startled gasp from Swan and a scathing reprimand from his brother.

“Killian!” Liam hissed. “What the devil are you--”

“Use my energy, Daniel,” Killian offered, opening his arms, and himself, up in surrender. “Take my energy and manifest yourself. Tell us who’s trying to silence you.”

“Brother, have you lost all sense?”

“It’s alright, Daniel,” Killian encouraged, ignoring his brother. “You can take my energy and--”

Killian’s words fell away when the fine hairs began to lift over his entire body. His arms began to feel heavy and it was a struggle to keep them lifted, especially when his breathing also became laboured.

“Killian, put your damn hands back on the--”

Liam’s admonishment was cut short by a startled, expletive falling from Emma’s lips. Manifesting above the board, in the center of their circle, was the ghostly image of a young man.

“Is that… Daniel?”

“That’s the man we saw!” Emma confirmed, her eyes wide as saucers and brimming with equal amounts of fear and awe. Forgetting herself, and the rules, she tentatively asked, “Are you…? Are you Daniel?”

The spectre nodded. He couldn’t have been more than early to mid twenties when he died, and though it was difficult to ascertain certain physical identifiers like height or hair or eye color, given his current metaphysical state, his clothing could serve as a clue that would narrow down the timeframe of his passing.

“Tell us how we can help you?” Liam said.

Killian, relieved that his brother was willing to capitalize on the moment, knew that he’d get an earful later, especially if Daniel managed to draw energy off him to the point of him passing out. Though woozy, Killian focused his efforts on the questions his brother continued to repeat and the spirit’s attempted replies.

“Who is the woman you want us to contact? Who else is here with us?”

Daniel tried again and again to speak, but the sound of his voice could not pass from his plane to theirs. Reaching down with ghostly hands, Daniel nudged the planchette and guided it once more to the R. Before he could maneuver it to the next letter, a second pair of hands appeared from behind Daniel’s head and wrapped around his lower face, obscuring his mouth.

Emma screamed and Neal jolted back, nearly knocking over the candles behind him.

“Nope!” Cassidy exclaimed, scrambling off the floor and sprinting towards the stairs.

“Neal!” Swan called after him, though she remained rooted where she was with her hands still affixed to the planchette.

Daniel struggled against the phantom hands, clawing at them with his own while Liam tried to wrestle back control of the seance.

“Reveal yourself, spirit! Tell us who you are and why you wish to silence Daniel! What unfinished business does Daniel--”

The planchette began to spin, making it impossible for Liam and Emma’s hands to remain there. An impossible gust of cold wind swept through the cellar, extinguishing the candles and ruffling both Killian’s and Emma’s hair. The light bulb at the bottom of the stairs shattered, sending down a shower of sparks. The only illumination remaining was Daniel’s ghostly form, but it too was quickly snuffed out, leaving the three of them in darkness.

“Bloody hell,” Liam cursed, the sound of him rummaging through his duffle preceding the beam of his flashlight. Reaching over, he grasped Killian’s shoulder and questioned, “Are you alright, little brother?”

“Younger,” Killian muttered, earning him a relieved clap on the back from his brother; his petulant response the only proof Liam needed as to his brother’s condition.

“You two stay still,” Liam instructed. “I’ll relight the candles and clean up the glass. Is there a broom down here?”

“Y-Yeah,” Emma responded, shakily. “In that cabinet.” She gestured towards the corner, then offered, “But I can do that.”

“No,” Liam said, waving her off as he finished lighting the candles. “You stay with Killian. He’s going to need a minute to recover from his tomfoolery.”

“It got us answers, didn’t it?” Killian shot back, heavily. Drained of energy, it was all he could do to remain sitting upright, but he’d be damned if he let Liam know just how much the encounter had affected him.

“Aye. I suppose it did,” Liam conceded, procuring the broom and dustpan so he could begin sweeping up the broken bulb.

“What answers?” Emma asked. “All I have is more questions.”

“We know there’s indeed another spirit here,” Killian told her. “A woman, if the ringed fingers and manicured nails give any indication. We also have a name to work with - Daniel. Based on his manifestation, I’d wager he was in his mid 20s when he died and by the looks of his clothing, I would guess he worked as a stablehand at some point. That gives us a frame of reference to work with as we investigate his identity further.”

“Speaking of which,” Liam said, disposing of the broken glass and tucking the broom back into the cabinet. “You said you had a friend assisting with research?”

“Yes!” Emma replied, plucking her phone from her back pocket. “Belle. I’ll text her now and see if she’s ready to share her findings with us.”

“Perhaps you would like to check on Mr. Cassidy as well?” Liam suggested, reminding them both of the forgotten man.

“Um, right. Yeah.” Swan stood and brushed the dust off the back of her jeans. Her phone vibrated in her hand, capturing her attention. “Belle says she has everything ready and we can come by the library any time.”

“Terrific,” Killian responded, attempting to pick himself up off the floor… and flailing. “Um, Swan? Would you mind, uh…”

Emma glanced down at him and must have perceived his predicament. Her eyes widened, a startled expression crossing her features, as she reached down and helped him up.

With a steadying hand pressed against his chest, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a bit… unsteady.”

“Here,” she said, leading him towards the stairs where he could rest against the banister. “Better?”

“Aye. Thank you, love.”

Her posture stiffened in response to the endearment and she turned away, intent on climbing the steps out of the cellar. Killian reached out and lightly grasped her elbow, stalling her steps.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… are you alright? I should have asked how you’re handling the ordeal.”

“I’m fine,” she told him. Her position on the steps had brought her to eye level and though there was still only candlelight illuminating their surroundings, Killian could see the truth of her words in her eyes. “This isn’t my first haunted rodeo. Remember?”

Killian let out an amused huff. “Aye. How could I forget.”

They stood there a moment longer, Killian’s hand still resting against the crook of her elbow. He could feel the raised flesh of her arm through the thin fabric of her sleeve and wondered if it was a remnant of the ghostly encounter or perhaps an involuntary response to his touch.

Was he wrong to hope for the latter?

“I, uh… I should go check on Neal,” she said, dragging her tongue across her lip before her teeth scraped over the tender flesh in its wake.

The sound of something heavy scraping the floor above them pulled Killian from thoughts of capturing her mouth with his own, and almost too late he noticed an object about to hurl itself down the cellar steps.

“Swan! Look out!”

With all the strength he could muster, he managed to force her against the wall, shielding her as something crashed down the stairs. Their bodies pressed together, chests heaving against the other’s, it took them both several moments to process what had just happened.

“Emma!” Neal cried out, sprinting through the floors above and coming to a stop at the top of the cellar stairs. Staring down at his girlfriend who was currently being blanketed by another man, Neal’s face grew thunderous as he exclaimed, “What the hell is going on here?!”

“It appears to be some sort of statue,” Liam commented. Killian wasn’t sure if it was genuine ignorance as to the man’s meaning or if his brother simply wished to avoid a scene. Crouched down, Liam inspected the object and added, “Lucky the two of you managed to get out of the way. This could have done serious harm.”

Swan pushed against Killian’s chest, forcing him to step back from her so she could turn and take the man still fuming at the top of the stairs to task.

“It was that stupid garden statue of Pan you insisted on bringing inside!” she shouted. “I told you not to leave it in the hall!”

“How was I supposed to know a ghost could move it?” Neal shot back. “The thing weighs like fifty pounds!”

Stomping up the stairs, Swan grabbed Neal by the arm and hauled him away from the cellar entrance. Although Killian could not discern what was being said between them, there was no mistaking the tone of argument in their voices. He probably ought to feel guilty for having a hand in their current discord, but all he could focus on at the moment was the way his body was still reacting to having been pressed against Emma’s. The way she’d felt beneath his weight, the intoxicating scent of her hair, the feel of her hands clutching the back of his shirt, the way their eyes had connected after the danger had passed, the moment their gazes flicked down in unison to the other’s lips, the impulse he’d nearly given in to kiss her, the certainty he felt that the same desire had run through her mind as well.

“Brother,” Liam said, his tone making Killian groan internally.

He knew what was coming.

“Don’t,” he replied. “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh?”

“Aye,” Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was rash and foolish in the way I invited the spirit to use my energy, and I need to get my head on straight. No more distractions.”

“Actually,” Liam said, hoisting his duffle, which he’d repacked, up onto his shoulder before crossing the cellar and joining Killian on the stairs. “I was going to say… A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Slapping his brother on the shoulder he continued up the steps, leaving Killian utterly gobsmacked.

Chapter Three - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

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[twistedminutia]

It’s a day late but here’s my opinions on how all the main boys in Twisted Wonderland feel about candy corn:

Riddle: Kind of likes it, since he has a sweet tooth. That being said, he still will really only eat it in Halloween because he knows it’s REALLY bad for you.

Trey: Thinks it’s a classic and will make treats with candy corn decorations or a candy corn look for Halloween, but thinks it’s such a simple and plain flavor that he doesn’t care for it much.

Cater: Will he take a few photos of cute candy corn treats? Yes. Will he even eat a few candy corn if asked? Yes. Will he enjoy the experience of eating them? NO. He HATES candy corn. It’s waaaaaay too sweet.

Ace: He’ll munch on a few pieces if it’s out but he’s not particularly into it.

Deuce: He’s got some nostalgia for it and he has a minor tendency to just graze on anything in front of him if he’s not thinking, so if you set a bowl out at a party, he won’t think much and end up eating a lot. It will give him a stomachache if he eats too much, though.

Leona: Hates it. Thinks it tastes nasty and is way too sickly sweet for him.

Ruggie: It’s not his favorite, but it’s still FOOD, you know? He’ll gladly eat it if it’s offered, but he might go for more filling stuff first.

Jack: He’ll eat a few pieces but can’t manage more than that without feeling a little nauseous.

Azul: Given his strict diet, he won’t eat candy corn unless he’s pushed to. It has no nutritional value.

Jade: Not a fan. He might chew on a piece or two, but the flavor isn’t interesting.

Floyd: Extremely mercurial. Will eat an entire bowl one day only to be disgusted by it the next. Tends to find the color interesting but is a bit let down by the actual flavor.

Kalim: Loves it! It’s so sweet and it’s super fun and festive! Plus, it’s usually served in a big bowl at parties, so there’s no worry about it being poisoned!

Jamil: Finds it cloying in its sweetness. He’s not opposed to it generally, but Kalim keeps insisting on having it at any Halloween parties he throws and then insists Jamil has some… it’s just not pleasant for more than three pieces in a row.

Vil: Are you kidding? Sure, it makes for a good post, and he’ll even dress in the colors but eating that stuff? No. That much sugar is awful for your skin.

Rook: He finds it delightful! It’s sweet, the texture is fascinating, and the colors make it fit in perfectly with a wonderful holiday.

Epel: He likes candy corn well enough, but if he has too much he gets really sick of it. Another person who’ll get nauseous if he eats a lot in one go.

Idia: He actually really likes candy corn. It’s basically pure sugar which makes it an excellent energy boost when he needs it and it’s a classic Halloween candy.

Ortho: Obviously he can’t eat it, but the aesthetic is nice. He does kind of wish Idia would stop eating so much of it… he’s analyzed the ingredients and they CANNOT be healthy…

Malleus: He finds them charming, but even a dragon can’t handle that much sugar at once. He kind of wishes they came in a more bitter flavor, because the mouth feel is pleasant, but the taste means he can’t have more than a few in one sitting.

Lilia: Ah, a classic Halloween candy! He’s got a stomach of steel, so candies like that are no problem for him! But maybe he could spice them up a bit to make them healthier…

Silver: As long as they’re not the ones Lilia doctored, he likes them okay. He’ll eat a few, enjoy them, and then won’t think about them again until next Halloween.

Sebek: He will protest he doesn’t like them until he’s blue in the face, but he genuinely loves candy corn. He’s got a sweet tooth and those little pieces of sugary delight hit him just the right way.