#hmm reminds me of a certain two people

[moni-logues]

Scoreboard

Pairing: Bangchan x reader (afab)

Genre: pwp/smut, friends-to-lovers

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: A handjob between friends? That's deniable. You can walk that back. Oral? You weren't so sure about that, but Chan was adamant he had to keep things fair..

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), fingering

A/N: DIFFERENT SPACES COUPLE RETURNS!!!!!! A few people had asked about a part two, and I have thought about it, uh, not just a few times lol so here we finally are. WAS I going to let them have sex in part 2? Yes. HAVE I done that? .... No. You'll just have to ask for part 3, losers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I don't think you have to have read the first part to enjoy this but you'd probably get a little more out of it if you have read it)

also yes, unbeta'd etc

*~*~

You could have kissed him forever. Would have were other parts of you a little more patient, a little more willing to take things slow. But you’d wanted Chan for weeks, months, almost years, and now he was finally here, beneath you, kissing you, hands skating softly up the curve of your waist, hesitating at your ribs.  

You weren’t hesitating. Not anymore. You pulled back from him so you could strip yourself of your top and you threw your bra with it. Didn’t give him a chance to react, to take you in. Just took his face in your hands and his bottom lip between your teeth again.  

“Touch me,” you mumbled, mouth still pressed against his, and you guided his hands upwards, cupped them over your breasts, prayed you wouldn’t have to keep coaxing action out of him.  

Because he had said he wanted it. He was kissing you like he wanted it. He had said so. Well, he had said he ‘was amenable’ to sex, which wasn’t exactly gushing enthusiasm but you would take it.  

“Chan,” you whispered, taking a beat. 

You sat back on your heels, inhaled deeply, and looked at him. He looked at you, colour high on his cheeks, ears burning, a little dazed, a little unsure.  

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked.  

You were crossing a line. That was certain. You were pretty sure that, if you stopped now, you could take it all back. You could rewind this evening and just be friends again. If he wanted. But going forward meant going forward. No returns. You would rather have him as a friend than nothing else, so you needed him to be sure now, right now at this moment, with your toes just over the line. 

“Yes!” he said, urgent, emphatic. “Yes, I do. I’m just...” 

He groaned and dragged his hands down his face. He didn’t look at you when he spoke next. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s you.” 

“What am I?” 

He looked at you then, wide and open and the cutest he’d ever been. His hands hesitated in the air, not quite reaching out for you, but not not. You held them, shuffled yourself forward on his lap again, pushed his hair from his forehead.  

“Hmm,” you said, contemplating his brow. You tapped it lightly with one finger. “I think you might be thinking too much about this.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he laughed.  

“Close your eyes, Channie.” 

You didn’t. You kept them trained on his face. You needed to think now; you needed to slow yourself down so he could catch up. You’d had months to think about this, fantasise about it, dream about it: a thousand scenarios, a thousand acts, a thousand kisses... You had had time, you reminded yourself, to wait for this. Much longer than he had.  

And you still had time. This wasn’t a race. The ache in your core was persistent, was impatient, but you didn’t have to be. 

You put your lips to his and kissed him. Slow. Deep. It didn’t have to go anywhere, you told yourself, hoping that Chan was somehow getting the message, too. He didn’t have to be nervous, because you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to.  

You just needed to know what he did want and you would give him the time to tell you.  

Eventually, you felt his body relax a little; he leant back, shuffling down on the sofa and pulling you with him. He let his hands roam, grazed a nipple with his thumb a little experimentally until you moaned into his mouth for more. His hands were warm, like his heart, and firm, kneading at your breasts, pinching at your nipples and then pushing you backwards.  

With no hesitation this time, no nervous giggles, no shy glances, he put his lips around your tight bud and sucked. He kissed and he licked and he carefully grazed his teeth over you, fully absorbed in the moment. His hot breath against your skin made you shiver and his wet tongue made you wetter.  

When you felt as though he had traversed the peaks and valleys of your chest quite enough, you gave a tug at his hair and he finally flicked his eyes to yours. They were black and glazed and the look in them was like nothing you had seen from him before. It sent a thrill racing up your spine and you were about to tell him: how much you wanted him, how good that mouth was, how you wanted it elsewhere, but he spoke first. 

“I want to go down on you.” 

You choked, shocked out of your lustful stupor. You laughed.  

“I thought you were nervous!” 

His eyes lightened then, eyebrows raised. 

“Are you? We don’t have to- I-” 

“No!” You were quick to cut him off, desperate not to let him start thinking again, very happy with where his feelings were leading. “I want to. I want you to. Just... wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.” 

The blush was back on his face but he wasn’t so bashful this time. Not quite. There was too much desire there, too much greed.  

You stepped off from the sofa and, in one smooth motion, pushed your leggings and underwear to the floor. You kicked them off your feet and rejoined Chan on the sofa, swinging one leg over him, leaning down onto your elbows to resume where you had left off. Your lips were almost touching when his hands came down onto your hips and he swore. 

“Fuck! Fuck, you are naked.” 

“Yes, that tends to happen when you take your clothes off.”  

His touch rounded your backside, another curse escaping on an exhale as his hands roamed this undiscovered territory. You took the opportunity of the distraction to kiss him, but it didn’t last long. 

“You’re fucking naked,” he said again, as if it were really a wonder. 

“And you’re not,” you countered.  

“Fair point.” 

And he slapped lightly at your bum to encourage you off him, so he could push his own trousers down, discard his own underwear.  

“Now we’re both naked,” you pointed out.  

When your eyes met, there was a frisson of tension that you’d felt before, and you knew where it was going, but you forced the laughter down, couldn’t collapse into hysterics – not again, not right now.  

“Is this weird?” he asked, thinking again. Always fucking thinking.  

“Only if you make it weird! Do you want it to be weird?” 

“No.” 

“Because it’s going to be if you keep saying it is.”  

You sat back in his lap, arms draping over his shoulders, as he rubbed at his face again. 

“It’s just...”  

He swore quietly as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, dragged it down your jaw and across your cheek until his lips found yours again.  

You could feel him beneath you, stirred, re-awakened, and it sent a spasm through your walls. You’d held him in your hand but what you wouldn’t have given to squeeze him in your slick cunt.  

“Chan,” you breathed out. “I want to fuck you.” 

He kissed you in reply, moaning for half a second before he stopped. 

“Wait- no. I want to go down on you.” 

“Can’t we just fuck first?” 

You rested your forehead against his, rolled your hips over him to make the point for you.  

“I just want to fuck you,” you whispered. “Please.” 

He shook his head slowly, carefully, still pressing on yours.  

“Later. I want to go down on you.” 

And you couldn’t deny that hearing those words, not once, not twice, but three times now, made you want it, too. Made you think about his lips and his tongue and fingers and the piercing, blinding reality of this. That it was happening. That none of this was a dream.  

“I owe you one,” he continued and you paused. 

“Owe me what?” 

“An orgasm. I had one. You haven’t.” 

“Are we counting?”  

He snorted and denied it.  

“No, I just think- I just want it to be even.” 

You smacked a kiss against his cheek.  

“Well, if we’re keeping score, we’re going to need some kind of chart.”  

He couldn't stifle his laugh and you joined him, letting a little of the tension go, aware that this could easily careen out of control, abs still hurting from the fit you both had earlier that evening.

“I don’t want a chart, I just...” 

He looked at you and you looked back. The merriment fell away, discarded in an instant. Because this wasn't actually funny. Not really. It was hot. It was thrilling. It was frightening. You could see him thinking in those dark eyes, trying to find the right words; you wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to try so hard. Not for you.  

“I want this to be good for you.” 

You resisted the urge to scoff, because you knew he meant it, and because this meant something to you. Something. Everything. 

“It is good for me,” you told him, lips close enough to touch his. You closed the gap and kissed him, firmly. “I want you so fucking badly.”  

He tightened his arms around you, crushing your body to his as he latched his mouth to yours. He still tasted like honey butter chips and you knew you’d never be able to eat them without thinking of him, thinking of this. You were definitely crossing a line. The line. And you could not contain your excitement. It smeared between your lips, slick beneath you as you rolled over Chan’s hot, flushed cock.  

“I want-” Chan broke away, breathing heavily, “I want to go down on you,” he said, with greater determination this time. “I want to eat you out.” 

Without waiting for a response, he tipped you carefully, moving out from under you, pulling your hips to the edge of the sofa and pushing your thighs apart.  

“Oh shit,” he breathed, just looking at you.  

His hands squeezed at your inner thighs as his jaw clenched. You had seen this kind of focus in him before: powerful and performing and dripping with sweat, determined to leave everything he had out there on the stage, to die before he gave up. A shiver of anticipation rippled across your skin and no sooner had it settled than Chan shifted closer, dropping a surprisingly chaste kiss to your thigh. Another followed it, then one more on the other side. He kissed you all over, some barely there, some that you knew would leave a mark.  

“You know you’re literally dripping?” he asked and there wasn’t so much as a hint of his former nerves, his bashfulness, but there remained a quiet awe, a slight disbelief at what was about to happen.

There was also his cheeky, little smirk, and eyes black as pitch, wide like an open mouth. Hungry.  

“I’m very fucking aware,” you retorted, the admonition undermined by your breathlessness. “Get on with it.” 

He rolled his eyes at you, playfully, like he had done a thousand times before. Then he did something he had never done before. With one hand gripping each thigh, he put his mouth to your lips and licked a broad stripe up to your clit. You quivered, whimpered, swore when he did it again, when he gathered all your arousal on his tongue and swirled it over your swollen bud.  

It made you forget every fantasy you’d ever had. You couldn’t remember if you thought he’d be like this or not. Couldn’t remember if you’d imagined correctly the soft, sweeping pad of his tongue flat against you or the hard flick of its tip. Couldn’t recall for even a second if you’d thought to imagine the way his hands would squeeze and pull at you. Had you guessed that he would moan like that? Had you dreamt the feel of his hair between your fingers?  

Your hips were moving on their own, uncontrolled by you. Uncontrollable. You couldn’t stop them rutting against his mouth, couldn’t stop the noise resounding from yours.  

“Chan, fuck,” you gasped as he sealed his lips tight around your clit and slipped two fingers inside you. “Like that, oh shit, like that. Please... Please...” 

He moaned in response, continuing precisely as he was, like that. Just like that. His tongue flicking at your clit like a switch that only turned on. His fingers curling, pressing hard inside you, pushing and pulling in one direction only. He was firm and precise and confident.  

You remembered the way he had, minutes ago (was it really just minutes?), taken your fingers in his mouth, sticky with his own cum, after he had finished. You shivered with the heat of it. The thought of the taste of him mixing with the taste of you sent fresh arousal flooding into Chan’s hand; he was quick to catch it, his lips popping as his tongue slipped down to swipe at his sticky fingers pushing the juices from your pussy. The slick sound of it all made you blush, the noise of his enjoyment deepening the heat in your cheeks and your core.  

He let his fingers work for a second, his breath washing over your flushed cunt like a hot wind.  

“Fuck,” he panted, leaning back on his knees and tipping his head towards the ceiling.  

You opened your eyes when you felt his other hand leave your thigh, watched him squeeze at the base of his cock – so dark, so hard, so wet with precum.  

“You ok?” you gasped, still rolling your hips against his hand.  

He nodded, still looking skyward. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he replied. 

His head fell forward and his eyes caught yours, the look in them making you suddenly shy, a giggle slipping out before you could stifle it. Though you needn’t have worried it would start the hysterics again because it was stopped short, cut off by the gasp elicited by Chan’s tongue, licking up your lips, circling your clit, teasingly light and then harder with every rotation.  

You gripped the sofa cushions tight, knuckles white, as the slow ticking of the pleasure bomb inside you grew faster, accelerating towards explosion with great intention. You knew it all too well: the tightening, the quivering, the deep, heavy drag that, in a split-second, sprang high, ricocheting from head to toe, gushing forward in a scream of delight.  

You flopped back into the cushions, sticky with sweat, chest heaving, head lightly spinning. Chan left a playful trail of kisses up your torso, onto your chest and your neck and then your mouth. He grinned at you, dopey and sparkling.  

“One all.” 

#skz x reader #skz smut #bangchan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bangchan x reader

[ballerinainskzville]

Let me take care of you - Bangchan one shot

Summary: your husband, Bangchan, is taking care of you, six months pregnant with your first baby daughter

TW: anxiety

Enjoy!

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

Bangchan whispered as his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.

“Let me think… since we got together, in your wedding vow, every day before you leave work and before we go to sleep but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it again”, you smiled and nipped a kiss from his cheek.

“Oh, I was referring to the little wolf”, your husband placed his hand on your swollen, 6-month pregnant belly.

Annoyed, you pushed his hand away from your belly to which he only laughed. “Babyyyy, I’m only joking. You know I meant you~”, Bangchan laughed and leaned in to pepper your cheek with kisses. “Hmm”, you only replied to make him feel guilty. You knew your husband, so it would take him less than a minute to start panicking if he made you truly upset.

“Y/N, are you upset? Did I upset you? I was joking, you know how much I love you. I’ll remind you that I love you every minute for the rest of my-“, he stumbled over his words, his hand holding onto yours, both of your weddings rings close to each other. You couldn’t keep your serious face on longer and began to laugh, blowing your cover. When you turned your head to look at your husband again, Bangchan was glancing between your eyes. “You’re not upset?”, he asked to be certain.

“Oh Channie, you’re so easy to fool sometimes”, you laughed and leaned in to peck his lips.

“Yeah, whatever”, he laughed softly and pecked your lips again. Again. And again. Bangchan’s love language had always been physical touch and he could barely keep his hands off you since you two got together. The cuddles, kisses, and intimacy in all sorts of ways increased whenever he had been gone for days due to the schedule of his group activities. Making up for the missing chances, he’d say.

And since you had become pregnant, you two had been bound by the hip. You always wanted to become a mother but along with the other pregnancy symptoms you had been experiencing, increased anxiety was the constant shadow that looked over your shoulder. And your husband Bangchan knew how to calm you down the best: with his presence, words, and touches. He had suggested you get back in touch with your therapist in case something bigger was weighing on your heart but you assured him every time it was the hormones and fear of starting a new chapter in life, of the responsibility of having a child that unraveled you as much as you looked forward to it. And he’d promise you every time that he’d help you out as much as he can and how lucky he was for having you as his wife and partner for eternity.

“Is she sleeping?”, he asked as he caressed your thigh through your leggings. Your old clothes didn’t fit anymore so you began to opt for leggings and the shirts of Bangchan whenever you were home. “No, she’s having a full blast inside there”, you told him with a chuckle and he moved his hand up, rubbing your belly. “Slow down, little wolf. We don’t want to hurt mommy, do we?”, he talked to your belly, lifting your black, or his black, shirt to press a kiss on your belly. Your skin tingled a little and you watched Bangchan. You were sensitive towards people touching your pregnant belly, especially without consent. Your husband was the only person who made you feel good when he did. And your daughter seemed to enjoy the presence and touch of her father too. “You’re going to be an amazing father. You already are”, you said while your hand caressed Chan’s dark waves. “And you’re going to be an amazing mother. The love of my life”, he looked up at you with shimmering eyes. Your hand cupped his cheek and he nuzzled it.

Bangchan was a very caring person towards people he loved and he didn’t easily show his more vulnerable side to anyone. You taking care of him and making him feel being taken care of was a hard journey for him to learn to accept and come to terms with. Which, since he did, lessened his disability of falling asleep and stress.

“Uh, I need to pee-“you groaned and pulled your hand back. Bangchan immediately stood up, holding both hands to help you stand up. “Channie, I can still move on my own-“you laughed and began walking towards the hallway, your hand supporting your lower back. “Are you in pain? Is your back hurting, baby?” he asked concernedly. “Not more than it did yesterday!” you shout from the hallway—his head peaks from the doorframe. “Then let me massage you before the food arrives? I hate seeing you in pain. It hurts me to see you suffer.”

“I know, Channie. You’d carry the child for me if you could”, you chuckled and entered the bathroom.

“Yes, I would!”, he shouted from the living room.

#skz #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenarios #christopher bang #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #baby fever

[issdisgrace]

INFORM YOU

WARNINGS: talks of arm break and prostitution, other typical peaky blinders stuff

“Mr Shelby there’s a man here named Y/n L/n he’s asking to see you.”

“Send him.” I wonder what he wants. Guess we’ll have to see. A minute or two later, Lizzie comes back with a man. He was tall, dressed in a full black ensemble, tattoos peeking out of the collar and sleeves of his shirt, quite handsome too. Could tell he definitely had money, that’s for certain.

“Hello Mr Shelby, I’m Y/n L/n.” He says his voice low and smooth, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

“Nice to meet Mr L/n. Please have a seat.” I say, shaking his hand. He nods before pulling his hand away and sitting down in one of the seats in front of me. I sit down as well and pull out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a puff before asking,

“What can I do for Mr L/n.” 

“I’ve come to inform you of an incident that happened last night in my bar, The Bleeding Heart, with one of your men.”

“Go on.”

“Last night, one of your men came in and got very rowdy and laid hands on one of my girls. While my girls can take care of themselves, I don’t take too kindly when people laying their hands on them or my boys. So I thought to inform you in person that I broke both his arms before you got word of this incident from the wanker himself and he tried to twist what happened. Now normally I’m a very forgiving man, but not when it comes to my girls or my boys. So if this happens again I will not hesitate to put the down one of your men like a fucking dog. Do we have an understanding, Mr Shelby?”

“Yes, we do Mr L/n. I’m very sorry this happened. I will talk to my men and make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

“Good and how about once you’re done having a chat with your men you come down to my bar and I’ll buy you a drink.” He says as he stands up. 

“Very tempting offer. I might take you up on that offer.” I say, rising to my feet as well. 

“I hope you do, Mr Shelby. Now I unfortunately have to cut this meeting short. I have some business to attend to. It was nice to meet you Mr. Shelby.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Mr. L/n. My assistant will see you out.”

He nods before turning and walking out of my office as the door shuts. I let out a sigh I didn’t know I was holding. I have to take him up on his offer. He seems interesting and is quite good looking. I wonder what he’s like in bed, probably a beast. Hmm Tommy keep it in your pants. We have men to remind to keep their hands to themselves. 

Looking up at the sign that hung above the entrance, it read ‘The Bleeding Heart.’ This is the right place. It looks nice. Dark oak and crimson red everywhere could see why it’s called The Bleeding Heart. I scan the bar for the man and we make eye contact. He’s sitting in a booth in the back, a man wearing practically nothing on his lap. Walking back towards the booth, I see him whisper something to the man who promptly gets off his lap, walking away as I get closer.

“Nice to see you’re taking me up on my offer Mr Shelby.”

“Had to see what your place was like.” I say sheading my coat before sitting down across from him.

“Is it up to your standard Mr Shelby?”

“Yes, and please call me Tommy.”

“Y/n.” Before either of us can say anything the man who was scantily plaid from earlier set down a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Jonathan, this is Mr Shelby. Tommy, this is my best working boy, Jonathan.”

“Nice to meet you lad.”

“Nice to meet you too, sir. I’m going to take my break now Mr L/n.”

“Ok, take 45. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Mr L/n. It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shelby.” I nod in acknowledgement before taking out a cigarette and lighting it as I watch him walk away.

“You like what you see, Tommy.”

“I do, but I like what’s across the table more.”

“Bold Tommy, I like it. We night have to see where that takes us later, but for now let’s have a drink.”

#thomas shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x male reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x male reader #peaky blinders x reader

[willowser]

hi will!!! seduction, romance and position for u and katsuki eeheheheheheehh!!!

seduction :  what gets your f/o going ? how do you seduce them ? how do they seduce you ?

katsuki is such a 'love-chub' kind of person that feeling extra appreciated and cared for gets him going LOL i kind of said this earlier but—as a kid he was always praised, right, and fawned over a little bit, for his quirk, and even though he grew up and did some self reflection and had his insecurities, i think getting kind of celebrated is always going to make the blood rush to his head. both of them.

i also think he's so incredibly disconnected to what he looks like in a attraction sense ? bc he doesn't measure anyone that way, "attractive people" aren't any more worth his respect or time LOL like. i think he knows people find him attractive, but it's like. him knowing people know that he's dynamight and what his quirk is. it's just a thing about him and not something he really internalizes.

so, in saying that, to be aware that the person he loves is continuously sexually attracted to him is like. stomach-flipping, full body flush for him LOL that has his head spinning, and it's not something he's always consciously thinking of. and to be reminded of it in certain moments has him REDDDD.

for me, hmm. katsuki isn't that touchy all the time, so in the moments that he is more touchy-feely, i think that's what would very quickly draw my attention and i would want him to do it more LOL i'm pawing at him like a cat hehehe

i answered these two for katsuki, so i will answer for kiri !!

position : do you and your f/o have a particular favorite position ? 

do i even have to say that eijirou is big into mating press. do i even have to say that really LOL although i also think he's a fan of prone bone, so i would choose that for us 😊 i would say doggy but. i think that would genuinely wreck me LOL

romance : is sex between you and your f/o romantic ? what makes it romantic ?

yes, i would say it's romantic and i say that bc—we don't take ourselves too seriously ! we're almost a lil silly hehehe and that to me is romantic ! bc we can be ourselves 🥺 and we trust the other person with our most vulnerable self 🥺 and we still have a great time hehe 😊

spicy/nsfw self ship asks

#hiii friend !! #eijirou is also so earnest that's it's impossible not to feel the love he radiates !! #✿ ask willow #✿ ask game #✿ will x katsuki #✿ will x eijirou #ty for asking !

[butterflydm]

wot reread: a memory of light (chapters 32-36)

spoilers for a memory of light, the final book.

Ah. It's a Mat PoV. I never really know what to expect out of Mat PoV these days, I have to admit. Early-to-middle Mat is always an enjoyable read, but I learned to despise reading Mat PoV during CoT & KoD, the two books that made me dislike Mat. The Sanderson Mat PoV chapters have varied wildly between "ugh I hate this"; "huh, that's intriguing"; and "Mat! <3". So, yeah, never know what I'm about to get when I start a Mat PoV these days.

2. Mat considers going out onto the battlefield again but changes his mind when Tuon glares at him from her ten-foot tall throne (...someone is overcompensating; that thing is twice as tall as she is). We get another of those bizarre thoughts from Mat where he praises Tuon for things that he dislikes from anyone else (Min did the same thing in her recent PoV too -- she's all "I don't respect any titles... except yours, Empress! I'll kiss the ground you walk on, Empress! I'll tell you anything you want, Empress!" ...I am mildly paraphrasing). I mentioned this earlier, how Mat starts having super-weird "I was born a native Seanchan" thoughts at a certain point, and this really feels like one of them.

In this instance, he claims that Tuon's ~way of giving orders~ "gives him a thrill", which... I'm torn between two things:

A. it just sends me right back to slave-conditioning (go back to Bethamin's Rules of Slave-Breaking back in Winter's Heart! It is downright eerie how much Tuon followed the rules there in how she interacted with Mat in CoT & KoD; it reminds me of how the most heartbreaking damane moments are when the channelers stop fighting and start desperately wanting to please their mistresses).

but

B. his actions don't really seem to back up that he enjoys getting ordered around by Tuon? Or enjoys watching her order other people around? It might be a thing, I guess, where his body has been conditioned into getting a thrill out of her being a slave-owner but emotionally and intellectually he's turned off by it?

3. Hmm, so Tuon gets incredibly jealous about Mat being in the same room as other women (who aren't slaves), but she doesn't want him looking at her with lust either. Interesting data point.

This is also a place where we really dive into the toxic ways that Mat is using the phrase 'Aes Sedai', where it basically is twisted to mean 'woman with power that I'm scared of' -- Tuon is an Aes Sedai in Mat's thoughts here, despite never actually channeling or having gone through the training to become an Aes Sedai. She's 'one of them' because she is a woman who is capable of having a power that Mat doesn't understand. If Mat had gone to Merrilor and learned what damage his fear and mistrust of Aes Sedai had caused in Caemlyn, he might have learned a healthier way to think about Aes Sedai.

4. Ah, @markantonys, here's that line: "You're doing a fine job of persuading Tuon not to use damane" (Mat sarcastically thinks to himself).

?????

It really is a fascinating/horrifying/mind-boggling contrast between what Mat's intentions apparently are and what he's actually done when he interacts with Tuon. Now, this is not the first allusion to the idea that Mat wants Tuon to stop using damane -- he told Min a few chapters back that "Rand" would want her to selectively use her viewings to try to encourage Tuon to think more favorably about Aes Sedai (Min proceeded to completely ignore him and just spilled literally everything to Tuon that she wanted to know) -- but it's the first time that Mat has actively tried to claim that he has been attempting to persuade Tuon on the matter of the damane.

So, in theory, Mat wants to persuade Tuon to stop using damane.

But in practice, Mat has always been silent and complicit when it comes to Tuon's use and abuse of damane, just as he is in this scene here. It kinda seems like the only way Mat is willing to risk himself for the damane around Tuon is by trying to place other people in her path who will argue on their behalf.

Mat is "unnerved" by how quickly the new Sharan damane has taken to her captivity. I mean, I could say the same of you, Mat.

5. Hmm, Mat is charming Galgan now. Maybe I spoke too soon on thinking that Galgan would no longer try to murder Tuon now that Mat is next in line for the throne, displacing Galgan's claim. If he ends up liking Mat more than he likes Tuon, then Mat might 'accidentally' become the (first?) Emperor of the Seanchan.

Ugh, now Mat is using "marath'damane" instead of "channelers". ...and, by contrast, Galgan is using "Aes Sedai" on Mat's orders. Hmm.

I guess we're supposed to be wondering who will 'win' in the corruption game between Mat and Tuon -- does Tuon manage to break him into being a proper husband-slave or does Mat manage to reach whatever tiny shreds of empathy might still lurk inside Tuon's heart?

6. idk why Mat keeps thinking that Tuon's behavior is mysterious and a puzzle to figure out. It's the omens. She's told you this. He wants to think that she's deeper than she really is, I guess. I suppose if I were trapped in a similar situation, I'd be doing my best to make the best of it too (but that runs into my other big problem of: Jordan's fatalism infecting all the characters even when it's contrary to their past behavior).

7. Tuon is currently interrogating Min on all the omens that she sees for every member of the Blood that's around. And Min just, you know, obeys. For whatever reason.

"He had an inkling of what Tuon might be capable of, if she grew displeased with Min."

Hmm.

"He loved her-- Light, he was pretty sure that he did. But he also let himself be a little afraid of her. He'd have to keep watch so that Tuon didn't decide to 'educate' Min."

Hmm.

Much like Mat himself, Min is in an 'honored' position... but Mat is very aware that this will not actually protect her from getting 'educated' if she displeases his wife-owner. And, once again, Mat gives us nothing he loves about her. Yet when it comes to why he's "a little afraid" of her, Mat does have reasons -- what he's alluding to here is that he's worried that she might hurt his friend's girlfriend (because he's seen Tuon hurt other innocent people in the past).

And we know the kinds of lessons that sul'dam teach. To quote from The Great Hunt again:

Renna took the chair, frowning at Egwene. "I must punish you severely for this. We will both be called to the Court of the nine Moons -- you for what you can do; I as your sul'dam and trainer -- and I will not allow you to disgrace me in the eyes of the Empress. I will stop when you tell me how much you love being damane and how obedient you will be after this. And, Tuli. Make me believe every word."

8. As a result of Min's reading of the 'omens' around one of the Blood, Tuon (through Selucia) announces that the woman will be executed, making both Mat and Min startle severely. Wow, maybe it's a bad idea to hand that kind of surveillance 'technology' over to an unhinged dictator, Min? Who could have guessed?

Anyway, Min is completely shocked by this (completely predictable) reaction from Tuon at an 'omen' that hints at potential betrayal.

Mat's thoughts about Tuon, the woman that he "loves":

Mat shivered. He didn't like it when Tuon got like this. That stare of hers... it seemed like the stare of another person. A person without compassion. A statue had more life to it.

That's literally just Tuon being Tuon, bro. Not sure what to tell you. This is the way she behaves the majority of the time. If you dislike this about her, then you're going to be unhappy for most of your marriage.

9. Min 'wins' this round pretty much the same way that Mat 'won' Tuon telling him that he was more than a toy to her -- she says that she won't tell any more omens to Tuon if Tuon continues to behave this way. If Tuon executes people based solely on Min's 'omens', then Min will stop giving her any omens.

I will say... this has been pretty consistent in the narrative so far -- Tuon only really responds to the threat of her toys being taken away from her. Anything less that that and she will continue to push the boundaries of making someone uncomfortable. Only the threat of losing her toys entirely really makes it through to her brain.

Mat worries here that Min's "lack of respect" towards Tuon is going to get her executed, but for the moment, Tuon agrees that she will not kill anyone based on what Min says they 'might' do.

...given how 'well' Tuon has kept her word so far, I'm pretty sure that she'll have trumped up an excuse to kill this member of the Blood in the next couple of days. But she'll be able to convincingly lie to Min that it wasn't because of her viewing.

I do think it's weird/fascinating how Min seems to view her 'job' with Fortuona as an all-or-nothing affair -- Mat suggested that she pick and choose what she tells Fortuona in an attempt to influence her, but Min seems to feel like she can either tell Fortuona everything or nothing at all. But we don't get any reason why that's the case. Especially since Tuon is a lot more interested in hearing Min's viewings about other people than the ones about herself, which was something that Min claimed she did for Rand as a ~special exception~ to her normal policy of respecting people's privacy. Again, why is Min going out of her way for the Seanchan? Tuon wouldn't actually know if Min lied to her about this.

10. Awww, Egwene is speaking in code to Mat about his medallion so as not to give his secret away to the enemy Seanchan. It's too late, Egwene. Setalle Anan betrayed Mat's secrets long ago, but it's very sweet of you to care.

Okay, so Elayne joins the, uh, conference call at this point ("thick with child". Um, exactly how far along do you think she is, Sanderson?) and so I am going to try to figure out what, if anything, she knows about the Mat situation. Thom told her a heroic story about Mat freeing slaves. Perrin told her Mat was doing "something" with the Seanchan. She's been pretty busy since then, so I wonder if Egwene has had time to update her on anything.

Mat wants to merge all the forces together. Mat's thoughts on Elayne: "She maintained the posture of a queen, but her disheveled hair and clothing burned in several places indicated what she'd been through." Meanwhile, ~Fortuona~ sits in pristine silks and lets Mat do her talking for her. I suppose she views him as acting as her Voice-husband-slave right now.

11. Elayne and Mat are the two people talking over the tactics at this meeting, btw (so consider that another spit in the eye to Perrin for trying to diss Elayne's tactical knowledge). Mat laying out the plan and Elayne questioning the details and reasoning.

Elayne doesn't acknowledge Tuon's existence at all during this entire section. She is absolutely and 100% only talking to Mat, and there's never even a mention of her looking over and noticing Tuon. She also doesn't seem to be treating Mat any differently than she had before.

I am so curious about Elayne's thoughts on this situation! Did Thom tell her about Mat's marriage being an accident when he came to Merrilor? Does she even know that Mat is married to the Seanchan Empress? She knows he's married to someone, because of his letter, but does she know who?

...also, she doesn't mention the Horn of Valere and Mat needing to blow it. That's maybe the one thing here that does indicate that she is aware of Tuon & the Seanchan even if she doesn't acknowledge them, not wanting to give away the Horn's believed ties to Mat. Which implies that she's ignoring ~Fortuona~ as a deliberate snub (good for her).

If the "Two Rivers coat" that Mat has been wearing was sourced by the person that Elayne found for Mat (by his request), then he is also wearing clothes that were supplied by Elayne during this entire meeting. Seanchan breeches and an Andoran coat.

Also, Elayne telling Mat, "I hope you know what you're doing," triggers the dice in his head. Is that... is that about more than the battle, Elayne? Are you speaking in code, Elayne? Are you talking about Tuon, Elayne?

Side note: Elayne doesn't get the whole "ugh no, she's a Dreaded Aes Sedai" treatment from Mat here even though she literally is one and Tuon is, in fact, not. I'm guessing because Mat isn't scared of Elayne?

12. Elayne then "passionately" explains and defends Mat's plan to Tam and, idk, some other leaders in the armies on her side.

lol so much at Galad's thoughts about how Perrin is so ~reasonable~ compared to other leaders like Elayne and how maybe the Whitecloaks should settle in the Two Rivers after the Last Battle. Perrin doesn't. He doesn't actually like you, Galad.

It is interesting that Galad is thinking of them as "Whitecloaks" though. When did that start?

Haha, just I was noting that, Galad also notices that he just did that and is puzzled at himself for it.

Elayne does not mention the Seanchan at all here, only "Mat" this and "Mat" that. Nothing about the Seanchan.

13. When Perrin asks Slayer if he thinks he'll be rewarded by the Dark One, Slayer tells Perrin "The Dark One does not discard useful tools" (citing the Forsaken as evidence) and I'm reminded of the many many commonalities that the Seanchan and the Shadow share all over again, because that is just about as true about TDO as it is about the Seanchan -- which is to say, sure, as long as you're still useful, you won't be discarded.

The Seanchan Empire is going to be the Great Evil of the Fourth Age, one way or another. I don't think there's any way for anyone to stop that. The poison is too baked into their culture as it currently stands, and the poison drips through to the people ("the poison drips through" is apparently a quote from Succession, which I've never seen, but that's a fantastic line).

14. Faile is hanging out with the Redarms, who are worrying about "Lord Mat" and wishing that they could be with him to protect him from the Seanchan. So that's now two sets of groups that care deeply about Mat and want to save him from the Seanchan that he's gotten himself tangled up with: Egwene & the Band of the Red Hand's Redarms. So it is 'known' among the general army that Mat is hanging out with the Seanchan (though not that he's married to ~the Empress~), so Elayne definitely knew last chapter when she was completely ignoring Tuon and only talking to Mat. And Faile is here to deliver the Horn to Mat (presumably without tipping it off to the Seanchan with him what they're doing?). To everyone except Faile herself, though, the delivery is "tabac from the Two Rivers" for Mat to enjoy during the battle, as a treat from The Amrylin.

Setalle Anan is also part of this group, it seems, and so is Olver, who is not dead (no thanks to Mat).

A bubble of evil sets their planned Gateway awry and they end up in the Blight instead of Merrilor.

15. ...Melaine is apparently "near to term" and just about ready to give birth. Which would mean that it's been less than nine months since Min first arrived in Caemlyn back in Lord of Chaos (and yet six of those months have apparently happened after Winter's Heart?).

It has been "many days" since Rand went up into the mountain of Shayol Ghul.

Aviendha catches Graendal in the act of attempting to influence the new commander who was put in place after Ituralde was taken out of command, and has an encounter with the red-veiled Aiel, realizing that they are the men who were sent into the Blight to die with honor upon realizing they could channel and that they have been Turned by TDO's channelers.

side note: this does remind me that one group that ends up not having a single Darkfriend in it are the Aiel Wise Ones. Not all of them are great people -- some of them are pretty awful -- but even the worst of the Shaido Wise Ones are not Darkfriends, I'm pretty sure? And no Aiel clan chiefs are Darkfriends either. No one who has been to Rhuidean and lived, essentially. Were the glass columns filtering out Darkfriends in addition to filtering out people who couldn't handle the truth about the Aiel's past?

16. Ah, I think this is our first real introduction to The Dark One as Entropy & the End of All Things. TDO 'wants' (or is driven by its nature) to consume the Pattern and leave nothing behind. I think, out of all the Darkfriends in the book series, that only Ishamael/Moridin actually understands TDO's goal. All the others are scrambling for temporal power and think they're actually going to rule the world after TDO 'wins' but there isn't going to be a world to rule. Only Ishamael/Moridin understands that the endgame is the ending of existence itself.

In the show, they've already tied us into this concept -- Dana, who gets dreams (presumably from Ishamael), talked to Rand about how TDO wants to end 'suffering' by 'breaking the Wheel'. So the show already set us up for the endgame battle which is great because it means (as long as Rafe & co know in advance that they're writing the final season), the show can always pivot to our endgame because they've already planted the seeds.

I'm curious about how much they'll tie Dana's argument into the Seanchan invasion. Because TDO is an existential calamity for everyone, but the Seanchan are an existential calamity for channelers in particular (though we do also have da'covale and I definitely hope that the show doesn't forget about them the way that it kinda feels like the books forgot about them). Once the Seanchan are on the scene, the question of "is it better to suffer in agony and humiliation for hundreds of years with no hope of escape or it is better to just end that suffering?" becomes an active question for the majority of the main cast (Moiraine, Egwene, Nynaeve, Elayne, and Rand too when/if the male a'dam comes into play -- and especially Egwene, who goes through that suffering personally).

17. Poor Faile actually has to worry about travel logistics -- they're stuck in the Blight and it would take 'months' to walk to Merrilor. Shame she doesn't have Mat's magical non-channeling teleportation skills.

However, they do see that they're not too far off from the peak of Shayol Ghul itself and decide to head in that direction, since some of Rand's troops should be there. But Faile worries that there's a Darkfriend in their caravan and worries even more that someone on the side of the Shadow knows that she has the Horn of Valere.

Somewhat nearby, as she is also in the Blasted Lands, after a lengthy battle with the red-veiled Aiel, Aviendha's group gets battered by Graendal, with one of the Aes Sedai getting compelled and two others getting killed.

18. Olver still hates the Shaido (and all Aiel by extension) for killing his parents and yet had zero lasting negative reaction to the Seanchan invading a city where he was living, causing destruction and death all around him and deeply injuring someone he cared about a lot (the wall falling on Mat). The contrast between Olver's trauma from the Shaido invasion and his lack of trauma from the Seanchan invasion really does remain so baffling. The Seanchan invasion should have brought back so many horrible memories for him, but he was basically the same in WH as he was in ACoS -- all he cared about was snuggling into a grown woman's breasts.

So Olver knows that Noal is dead, "filtered through what the Lady Moiraine had shared about what had happened at the Tower of Ghenjei" (haha so she did get around to saying more than "the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills" eventually). He also knows that Mat has "run off to join the Seanchan" (parental figure abandonment -- and Mat has not even spared a single thought for Olver this entire time, btw. Olver is worrying that Mat might die and Mat hasn't even had a passing thought about Olver's wellbeing; though I focus on the loss of Mat & Rand's friendship because of how... shallow... their reunion was, Mat's relationship to Olver also got shredded by Mat's off-the-page choice to desert his people).

Anyway, poor kid. He actually feels like a kid here, too, instead of a walking advertisement letting us know that Mat Cauthon Leers At Women And Teaches Kids To Do It Too, which is basically all he was for most of ACoS-KoD. He worries that he's going to end up all alone (again) as his companions die or abandon him. He has signs of trauma from Mat abandoning him here, too -- he thinks if he's able to train up and prove to Mat that he's useful, maybe Mat won't abandon him (again).

19. It sounds like the 'essence' of the Dark One in Shayol Ghul is basically acting like a miniature black hole -- it's trying to suck them into it. It's already eaten Nynaeve's shawl.

For Nynaeve and Moiraine, about an hour has passed. Rand's foot touched the darkness when he went to meet Moridin sword-to-sword and now the two of them appear frozen in time & locked in place. The wind pulls and tears at Nynaeve and Moiraine's clothing but Rand and Moridin are untouched by it.

20. Carefully moving around the chamber, clinging from rock to rock to keep herself from being pulled into the black hole, Nynaeve finds Alanna behind one of the rocks in the chamber. She's chained to the wall and has a bleeding wound in her side (matching Rand's, perhaps?).

Nynaeve realizes that the reason that Alanna here is to die at some point during Moridin's encounter with Rand, hopefully leaving him vulnerable due to the broken bond and making him easier prey for Moridin (and/or TDO? Though Nynaeve thinks here in terms of making Rand more physically vulnerable, making him more emotionally susceptible to TDO's arguments also seems like a likely motive to me?).

She wonders why Rand didn't notice Alanna's presence -- is he just so used to reflexively ignoring her? Nynaeve is feeling frustrated that she is unable to heal Alanna with the Power, because all her Power is in the link with Rand.

...oh, hey! I bet that's what Rand was feeling earlier! He could feel that someone he was bonded to had gotten hurt but the feeling was weird and he couldn't trace it. I bet that was about Alanna getting stabbed and it was wonky because it happened in the Weird Time Dilation Room.

21. Hmm, Mat is having memory issues. He blames his dice here on when "Egwene gave him control of the armies" but it was Elayne's words to him that triggered this set of rolling dice. We know because we were in his PoV when it happened.

Mat sees an old Andoran man that almost triggers an old memory for him, one of the ones that the dagger stole (it would have been when Rand was taking care of him on the trip to Caemlyn -- another one of the shoes that never quite fell for Mat, characterization-wise, is him getting back his foggy memories. We've seen a time or two that they are still in there, not just in this moment, but also back in Ebou Dar, when he saw the Darkfriend who attacked him and Rand in the stables). Mat actually remembering that everything Rand did to help him during the time he was sick with the dagger seems like one of those things that will inevitably happen post-canon, because the memories are still there, just hiding.

22. When Mat sees "his" Deathwatch guard among the working people here, he compares them to "wolves among the sheep". Mat does see it as a bonus that he was able to pull the armies together and pick his own battlefield but he's still pretty worried about the battle ahead.

Tuon gave Mat a new eyepatch to wear -- bright red. To remind people of the wound underneath? We know that she likes the active reminder to everyone that Mat has been bloodied in battle. Or we do get a reminder that the Deathwatch guards (all slaves) also wear a distinctive shade of red, so it's probably also another badge of her ownership over Mat.

23. When Mat tries to avoid the Deathwatch guard that are coming to "collect" him to be brought to Tuon's tent (the narrative keeps bringing up things that are so reminiscent of Tylin's behavior towards Mat), he runs right into Egwene and a group of Aes Sedai. Also... it's interesting that he thinks of it as "Tuon's tent" and not a tent that they share together.

When he mentions that he's running away from the Deathwatch guard, Egwene tells him that she's glad he's defecting back to the Westlands but the middle of the Last Battle is maybe not the best time. He walks back with Egwene (& Gawyn and Leilwin née Egeanin) back over to the Aes Sedai area of the camp as they talk.

24. Mat says that the reason he's running from the guard is not because he's defecting back to the Westlands but because Tuon wants him to sit in judgement over potential criminals (...in the middle of the Last Battle?). "Anytime a soldier is seeking the Empress's mercy for a crime, I'm supposed to sit in judgement!"

Mat thinks here that he's not going to 'order men to be executed' and, yeah, I keep going back to what Renna said to Egwene, all those books ago. Perhaps you believe that because you are valuable now, you will be allowed license. Or I think back to Mat's worries that Min's "lack of respect" towards Tuon will get her killed.

Because it kinda sounds like it's been made clear to him that "sit in judgement" means "condemn people to death" and that Mat would risk personal punishment if he rules against what Tuon would want him to rule. Is Mat worrying about how hard he can push Tuon without it painfully snapping back on him?

25. He obliquely asks Egwene if they've found 'it' (the Horn of Valere) yet. Hey, Mat, if you were so worried about that, maybe you shouldn't have defected to the Seanchan at the beginning of this book? Just a thought.

Yeah, we get a reminder of how easily Mat rewrites his own memory here when he talks about how he did all the hard work of finding the Horn and the dagger was barely a consideration for him. So for anyone wondering why I keep poking at Mat's professed reasons for doing things and doubting the surface level of what he says -- page 611 of the hardback copy of AMoL:

"It seems nobody can remember straight but me. I hunted down that bloody Horn like a madman. And, I'll mention, it was me blowing the thing that let you all escape Falme*."

"Is that how you remember it?" Egwene asked.

"Sure," Mat said. "I mean, I have some holes in there, but I've pieced it mostly together."

"And the dagger?"

"That trinket? Hardly worth anyone's time." He caught himself reaching to his side, to where he had once carried it.

(* side note: yeah, his mention of this here makes me feel even more sure that he deliberately didn't tell Tuon about Egwene being captured in Falme because he didn't think it was her business. He tells Tuon things on a need-to-know basis only, from what I can see, which feels like it's reflected in the advice that he gave to Min)

26. Egwene Travels them to the top of another location (to further move away from the Deathwatch guard) and Mat takes a moment to notice the grove of trees that Rand grew on the Fields of Merrilor.

[Mat] could feel something pulling on him, tugging him northward. Rand would need him soon.

27. Mat tells Egwene that this will have to be their last stand -- they don't have the supplies for a protracted battle. She says that they just need to hold out long enough for Rand to beat TDO.

But Mat points out that if they are unable to break the Shadow's advance, then they do still lose in some pretty important ways, because the Shadowspawn will flood the lands and kill all the non-combatants. "We can't just survive... we have to win."

We get another moment of Rand tugging on Mat from Shayol Ghul while the dice tumble in his head.

Mat turned northward again. A cool, somehow familiar wind blew across him, rippling his long coat, brushing at his hat. He narrowed his eye. Rand was tugging on him.

Ugh, I feel so cheated by this. Why set this up only to give us such a disappointing conclusion to this thread, Sanderson?

Anyway, the battle starts anew. And Mat successfully avoided being dragged back to Tuon's tent, so congrats to him on that.

Okay, the next chapter is the monster (nearly 200 pages all on its own), so that will be a separate post.

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #wot amol spoilers #wot a memory of light spoilers #mat cauthon #elayne trakand #seanchan content warning #faile bashere #olver (wheel of time) #next chapter of Voice is postponed until next week #due to covid making it difficult to do the polishing on the chapter that I wanted #but my reread vibe was still strong so there will be two reread posts this week #and we are almost done!

[youuuimeanmee]

RWTGI 35.1 - 35.2 Thoughts

I forgot chapter 35.2 is already out WAAAHH

I say Kirishima's name a lot this time, maybe I should call him Kiri.

Okay, this chapter confirms my suspicion. So his family really did neglect him.

Uhh I don't think the diary is meant to prove himself as a victim. I bet it's to keep record of what makes him happy 😅

BAHHAHAH Gaddamit.

I thought he was mourning, or at least self-reflecting. Who knew he was playing soccer 🤣 (where is your sympathy kid, tf) At least he knew not to play in the middle of people mourning, lol

Oh yeah, I just remember, Sumire (Kiri's great-aunt) did say his parents tried to get him to talk after that incident, but no matter how much they tried, he never answered them. Maybe it's because he's aware he's too different from them, they wouldn't understand him anyway? If that's the case, that's kinda amazing of Kiri for being able to (kinda) open up to Gaku even though he never met him, because just from a short meeting he knows his great-uncle is not normal like himself.

(If Kiri is your average kid, even if Sumire dropped some hints that Gaku is similar to him, he wouldn't be able to take the hint because he's too clouded with "no one understands me" prejudice. But no. Our Kiri here uses his brainn, bro)

Aww baby 🥺

Turns out his "friend" is more normal than he thought, his plan failed, he got into trouble. He did so much, yet, didn't get anything in the end lolol

I'm surprised Kiri is the first one who asked to be adopted. I don't think Sumire or his parents ever told him that the man in front of him is a yakuza. He must've put two & two together and concluded it himself.

If I could guess why Gaku accepted a brat like Kiri, it's may be because he saw his potential. I'm sure he never heard about Kiri until his sister introduced him, but the fact that she asked for his help is enough prove that his family couldn't handle him anymore. He never introduced himself as a yakuza but Kiri, with limited informations and short time, knew right away. He's not scared or nervous like normal people. In fact, he just focus on getting what he wants, and willing to do anything to get what he wants. Talented. Abnormal. Obsessed. Unhinged. Gaku could really use those traits. Even if he couldn't become his grandchild, at least he could become a reliable subordinate. Maybe that's why he accepted him so quick 😂

(Turns out there's another reason in the next chapter tho, so I'll save my thoughts for later.)

This is just a reminder to myself: Gaku barely provided Kiri with the neccessity needed, probably because he needs to test his worth if he wants to earn that "yakuza's grandchild" title. Or at least that's my theory. Maybe Gaku is just naturally apathetic. Maybe both.

Kiri might've liked Gaku to a certain degree because he's one of his few family who accepts him as who he is, but I'm pretty sure growing up with a man like him in a yakuza household has worsen his mental condition, until he meet Yoshino.

Wow. Turns out it's not the first time he waits for hours in the rain 🤣

AUGH. beautiful. Beautiful. I'm crying 😭😭😭

That's smart of the author. We wouldn't know if he really blushed because of her or if it's just the rain, lol

Yoshino saw a wolf. Renji saw a a guard dog 🤣

I don't like how Aoi kicked my son, but I have to agree with him here. Don't lick your blood on the floor, yuck.

Daww look at his happy lil feet seeing his obsession crush 🥺🤭

We know that Kiri used to date older women to leech, but seeing it with my own eyes disgust me. Not just Kirishima, but that grown-ass woman too; having sex with a minor, what the fuck. That's what I like from the author tho, just bc the ML did it, it doesn't mean it's romanticized.

OOHHH the day when Kirishima is appointed to be Yoshino's guard dog. Never thought I'd see this day come so fast, I thought we gonna have to wait for ch 80 or smth.

Hmm? The guy who killed Kyousuke? Do we know him? Is it Suo Azami? Nah, if he's around the same age as Kiri, he's practically a baby at that time. Wait, didn't he change his face tho? How old is he again? Or myb it's not Azami at all, myb it's his boss, Akime Hishibe? Oh I forgot Shouma said he's already dead, but I highly doubt it. Maybe the mastermind is still alive.

Um, if Kirishima is owned by Gaku, and Gaku leaves him under Renji's care, does it mean he's now owned by Renji? He doesn't have to obey Gaku anymore?

I'm confused with this whole ownership thing now.

Wait. A month? You gotta go big??

Wait wait wait.

Wow, oh wow. I need to recalibrate everything.

This panel gives chapter 2 a whole new layer. Wow.

So like. He told her to sell her body not only because he was tired of her, but also because Renji told him he could make Yoshino go back to Osaka if he didn't feel like up to the task?

Though I don't think Kiri did that because he values his life; he did that merely because he thought she's boring and not worth his time. But then everything change 😂

Yo Renji. You're the one who said it's okay for Kiri to make Yoshino go back to Osaka. You said you'd take care of the rest, you even said he can be creative. He was doing such a great job at making her feel like she wanna leave, yet, you won't let him have his way?

Was Renji intentionlly flaming them both? Is this his plan all along; to have both children go screw each other in Tokyo and forget about Osaka for a year?

(Istg Renji's death flag has been up for a while now, I'm scared for Yoshino)

Oh wow, Kiri really did not lie. Their interest really do align perfectly.

To continue my point above about why would Gaku accept Kiri into his house, it seems like he wanted to use Kiri's talent and obsessiveness towards Yoshino to make him protect her, because he feel indebted/guilty towards Renji? Was he feeling responsible for what happen to Kyousuke? If that's the case, this makes Akime seem even more sus bc he used to be Gaku and Renji's close friend.

Seeing Kirishima's reminiscence sure brings tears to my eyes. From obsession to genuine love and affection. He really does come a loong, long way, huh. Maybe I should make a meta about this particular scene but idk, let's see if I feel like it.

But I don't think he would've feel this way if Yoshino didn't acknowledge his quirks and treat him "normally." She really is amazing.

The way he's so scared when Yoshino didn't move for literally 1 second he decided to check her pulse, like she could just drop dead in a blink. Even though he has seen how strong she is up until now. That irrational fear of losing someone, he finally understand 🥺🥺

I'm really REALLY surprised Yoshino relented and agreed to eat parfait 🤣 Kirishima you always win huh 🤣

Aww, he returned to the same place when he first entered the yakuza household, eat the same parfait he used to eat, but now he's together with a friend/lover he treasures for life, enjoying the life he found boring at the beginning 🥺😭💞

These past chapters have been a treat. Even after he declares he loves Yoshino multiple times, we never stop doubting him because the fear he instilled at the beginning is too strong to dismiss. Just like Yoshino, we have this lingering doubt that he doesn't really love her, he's just obsessed. These flashbacks managed to shed some lights into his character, making him seem even more human. Kiri really HAS been trying to show how genuine he is -- in his own awkward way -- and it shows 🥹

Just 2 more chapters until we catch up to the raws, I can't wait. I've seen it, and all I can say is, it's beautiful. And Kirishima says some crazy stuff while sober. I just can't with him. I love him, I hate it.

See you next time 👋

#raise wa tanin ga ii #rwtgi #rwtgi ch 35.1 #rwtgi ch 35.2 #rwtgi analysis #miyama kirishima #yoshino somei

[abigail]

my grandma died 8 years ago and she was the person in my family I was the closest to, I remember thinking I’d never be over it and truly I don’t think I will.. I don’t think anyone really ‘gets over’ such a thing. like.. I would visit her every monday and now mondays are just... mondays. I still think of her still when I see or horses with black fur, or a magpie in someone’s garden, or when someone’s kitchen is particularly cold, or when I hear certain songs, or see a certain tv show or movie or whatever, she is with me always still.. she’s always in my mind despite how much time has passed. I’m not over it, I just don’t cry as much anymore.

there’s people in your life who will always be with you, not physically.. of course, but in certain smalls or visuals or whatever I suppose.. you will always be reminded of them. it’s not about getting over it, because honestly you can’t do that. its about learning to live without them, it’s about coping with their reminder, it sucks, but like.. you’ll get there.. even if you do begin to cry in the middle of a supermarket on a random afternoon, because you saw a cream doughnut and it reminded of her, how she would always buy them in packs of two on the morning of when you’d visit, so they were fresh and you could have one each.. and just you’re feeling particularly sensitive that day so you cry in the middle of the aisle looking at them, even though it’s been 8 years since she died.

hmm anyway it’s a sunny day and I’m gonna eat some fruit, I love you guys

#good morning I’ve woke up feeling odd can you tell #a #don’t know how to tag this I’m sorry guys #tw death #????? #m

[obsessedwithlute]

Cherrisnake lover here! Can we see what a first date might be like for them?

I am certain that by this ask, you did not mean "Modern AU where Emily pays for their whole date because she's sick of seeing them dance around each other for years and they go see Hamilton".

Alas, I cannot control myself.

Contains swearing, queerphobia (specifically transphobia), slander of religion, people using religion as an excuse to discriminate and possible implications of child abuse and anxiety.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Pentious’s hands were shaking as he stood at Cherri’s apartment door, trying to work up the courage to knock. I’m still five minutes early, he told himself. I’ve got time. He clutched the bag with two priceless tickets to Hamilton inside, reminding himself that Cherri had agreed to this and he had planned it to perfection and really, what’s the worst that could happen? Hmm, I don’t know. I could be humiliated forever and cry myself to sleep for the next month.

Cherri doesn’t like cowards. She’s into bravery and all that. I’m only lowering my chances by hiding out here.

Pentious lightly banged his fist against Cherri’s door and waited for a few seconds that felt like eternity.

The door clicked open and Cherri stood in front of him, lightly smirking. Don’t blush don’t blush don’t- Goddamnit, he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. After some awkward silence, Pentious uncovered in himself the otherworldly determination it took to whisper, “Hi.”

He cursed himself.

“I mean, um- hello!” he blurted. Stop stop stop code red you are actively making this worse-

“Hello to you too,” Cherri responded, a sarcastic but kind smile stretching across her face. She grabbed Pentious by the arm and dragged him into her apartment. He fumbled in his bag for the tickets and handed one to Cherri.

“H-here,” he stammered. “Please don’t think this is, like… too much for a first date… Emily gave me the tickets so…” Jesus Christ, Pentious what are you thinking don’t tell her that!!!

“Are you kidding me?? You know I love musicals, don’t apologize… But you will be sitting through my terrible Angelica impression on the way back so… just wanted to warn you.” Cherri smirked again.

Pentious smiled. “I am well known in my friend group for my horrid George Washington voice.”

Cherri nodded and turned her back to remove her coat from the hook it sat on. “Hm, well I must say I find horrid George Washington voices very sexy.” Before Pentious could respond to that, she held up a finger and hissed, “I said what I said.”

Cherri and Pentious walked to the subway station and after a twenty-minute wait due to some hold-up, collapsed into the comfortable train seats.

Pentious reached in his pocket for the cards he had prepared. The first read, in last night’s tired, drunk scrawling ASK HER FAVORITE COLOR.

He obeyed himself, turned to Cherri, and asked, “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Red, you know, like blood,” she said absentmindedly. “Why?”

“Oh, um no reason, just, you know, get to you know shit and all that, even though I mean, like, we've been friends for years, I should probably know your… OH FUCK! I mean, dammit! Um- Sorry for swearing… There are little children here… fuck it…”

“You’re capable of swearing?” Cherri asked incredulously. “You seem so… innocent… like one of those people who apologizes for saying, like, heck.”

“Um… it’s something that I accidentally do whenever I’m nervous- I try to work on it but often fail, and you’re referring to Emily, not me.”

“Don’t remind me…”

“Of the time she basically got on her knees and begged forgiveness for saying gosh?”

“Blame her upbringing,” Cherri scoffed. “And Sera. And the church.”

“Mostly the church,” Pentious agreed.

“A-hem,” a brunette woman coughed from across the train. She stood up and began to march over towards Cherri and Pentious. “I will not hear the good god-fearing community slandered in the vicinity of my young, impressionable children. And I will certainly not tolerate that propaganda pinned to your shirt, ma’am.” She pointed to the transgender flag and he/him pins on Pentious’s shirt, clearly taking a look at his visible hips.

Cherri stood up. “Hello, what are your name and pronouns?” she asked, a fake-sweet smile on her face.

“I have very strong words to say to you, but unlike you young miscreants, I won’t allow them to taint my mouth,” she said.

A second woman, this one in a leather jacket, left the herd of children the brunette had been ushering on the train and stepped next to her. “Sis, we both know your mouth is already tainted. And if you can’t stand these people insulting your ‘good community’ in front of your impressionable children, why don’t you go spend some time with those children, instead of just insulting their clothing like you have all night?”

The brunette turned to leave, but before she did so, she eyed Cherri, Pentious and her sister, and told them, “You should ask God for forgiveness.”

She turned on her heel and stalked off.

“I am so sorry,” the woman in leather said. “She was completely out of line.” “Please make sure she doesn’t rub off on those kids too much,” Cherri told her at the same time Pentious said, “Forget about us, just worry about those poor children.” The woman smiled. “You too are such a cute couple- don’t worry; I’m not making some stupid ‘people of opposite genders in public- ooh, they must be dating’ assumption. You’re just obviously compatible!”

“Oh, um, well-” Pentious blushed. Again. Fuck.

“It’s just our first date,” Cherri finished.

“I see,” the woman in leather said, nodding. She removed a small notebook and pen from her pocket, ripped out a page and scribbled something on it.

She handed it to them and smiled. “Here’s my number. Call me when you get engaged so I can show up at your wedding.” “Our what?” Cherri demanded. The woman just smiled and left.

After their stop was called, Cherri and Pentious looked at each other, simultaneously shrugged and just laughed.

Suddenly, Pentious gasped. “We’re going to be late, we need to fucking run!”

“Okay, then let’s run!” Cherri yelled, grabbing Pentious by the wrist again and basically dragging them out of the station.

Once they’d finally made it to the theater and dodged death a few times, Pentious was gasping and Cherri was barely breaking a sweat.

“How… are you… so fast?” he demanded between breaths.

“I did cross-country in high school. Come on, we can’t miss anything!!” she yelled.

Finally, they managed to make it to the theater and settled into their seats. Somewhere between “The Schuyler Sisters” and “Right Hand Man”, Cherri and Pentious’s hands found each other.

After the show, Cherri and Pentious bought pretty much their weight in Hamilton merch (Emily was sponsoring their whole date, anyway, what did it matter?) and called an Uber- they were not in the mood for another wonderful subway experience.

Waiting in the dark, they talked about a lot of things they just hadn’t had time to discuss before, smiled, laughed, and got a little emotional.

Their Uber arrived and dropped Cherri off at her house, then drove Pentious the rest of the way to his.

The next morning, Pentious’s phone lit up with one text from Cherri: So, what flavor cake should we have? Wouldn’t want to let the cool aunt down.

#hazbin hotel #sir pentious #cherrisnake #cherri bomb #modern au fic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #trans!pentious #so the queerphobic asshole and her liberal sister will be showing up in more of my fics probably #so the official tag for them is now #queerphobic mom & liberal aunt #i'm so sorry

[callsign-blue]

The dinner scene with Aegon, Aemond, Lucerys and Jacaerys it’s very tense, because there’s still that animosity from six years ago, obviously, but you can still see how Rhaenyra’s children have more maturity, when interacting with their uncles that puts the uncles to shame. Aegon, Aemond have this mentality to project so much hate onto their nephews solely because , for other reasons, Alicent is constantly comparing them in situation and continuously to Rhaenyra’s kids. Those emotions that she is holding in because she is queen, she can’t let these emotions rule her decision making.

I just find it very hypocritical and funny because when she’s in the room with Aegon it’s exactly how she was when she was younger with her father.

(“Think of the shame on your wife, on me. How can you keep carrying on like this,especially on a day like today?” “Why? What is it today?”*slap*)

*silence*

(Sniffles)

“You are no son of mine.”

“I did not ask for this I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to, and i try so…i try so hard, but it will never be enough for you or father.”

It’s very much full circle. Probably very much how Otto was with Alicent in the beginning and now it’s carrying over to Alicent with Aegon. And I can also see a little bit of Daemon in Aemond as much as the kind of rebellious side. I felt like he was also very hesitant to add his father into that too because it is very much all Alicent.

We actually only ever see the Viserys interact with the kids and grandkids, while in a more public setting or even with just immediate family. It was never seen as one on one with the children and so with that you can see that he is choosing to overlook certain aspects and not call attention to it unless it is any involvement with Rhaenyra or her kids. He has her on such a pedestal because she has a constant reminder of his basically true love, Aemma.(which I am referring to an episode 107 where he calls Alicent Aemma by accident in fromt of everyone. And if he could do things again, he would probably, maybe, choose her over the baby. Like how Daemon did with Laena.(Far fetched just hopeful thinking.)

“Final tribute to the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…hmm strong. Come lets us drain our cups to these three… Strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

The dinner was very much how last episode was. The tension between the two houses, how it was the blacks versus the greens in the sense of children children acting upon it then the adults. It’s also was very ballsy of Aemond to bring up/mention the fact that both jace and luke in sentence with the emphasis of Strong within it.

Also very much tells you how Helaena is being treated by Aegon. Luke offers to dance with her after she admits that her husband clearly doesn’t want her unless he’s drunk so he shows compassion for her and it shows a little bit about how Alicent has a little bit more sympathy towards her with a hug after her confrontation with Aegon.

Instead of action, it was words that were put to battle.The last episode “Driftmark”, 1x07, we obviously see a shift and change in Aemond. From then on did not want to be pushed around anymore. He is acting more of an air than Aegon is. I bet we will see more of Daemon like tendencies him with the following episodes to come.

I feel as though Alicent does want some peace with Rhaenyra. But if she shows that emotion or swaying of side that the people that were behind her will go behind her back. I think that she truly does not want this at all she could care less about this she would rather leave, then have all this weight of the crown, and who succeeds Viserys by rightfully heir by ceremonial decree (Rhaenyra) or by political view (Aegon the Older). She was a decision by Otto as a distraction for the Viserys. But since he’s literally falling apart and not “right of mind” , truthfully, if he was given the right medicine, he could be of mind than the Maesters they have for him there. I bet they’re just literally giving him medicine so he could be incompetent. 

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon 🐉 #house of targaryen #spoilers #hbo max hotd #house targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #screaming #hotd thoughts #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #lucerys targaryen #lucerys velaryon #daemon targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #king viserys targaryen #kings landing #red keep #hotd #hbo max #hotd 1x07 #tumblr hotd #hotd 1x08

[thisisasafezone0]

°˖✿˚⋆ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 ⋆˚✿˖°

CHAPTER FOUR — SweetLies —

third person pov

⚠︎°｡(DISCLAIMER : CONTAINS A MENTION OF SUICIDE AND MURDER) ｡°⚠︎

The rest of psychology was not that bad in Y/N's opinion. She had asked Oko about his occult book that he started reading halfway through the icebreakers, leading to him rambling for about twenty minutes. The last minutes of class were spent with Oko apologizing for 'wasting her time' and Y/N assuring him it was fine. Long story short, the two exchanged numbers and Oko was very flustered when he left the classroom.

'Amao didn't tell me where to meet him, so I should probably check the cooking club first.'

Y/N gathered up her things quickly, almost stepping out of the room before Mr. Kina called her to his desk.

"Sorry, dear, but I heard you are also new to the school, correct?" The h/c-ette nodded as confirmation. "I was told by the guidance counselor to remind you to get to school early tomorrow for your meeting. Do you know where her office is? If not, I have a map of the school I can give you," the pink haired male smiled at her.

"I appreciate the offer, but I have my own map, thank you." Her teacher hummed in understanding and Y/N took that as her cue to leave. "Have a good day, Mr Kina." She waved and exited the room, knowing Nemesis was following her.

The cooking club was on the first floor and her classroom was on the second. How convenient that it was right next to the staircase she went down. She saw Osano standing right outside one of the doors, him angrily looking at his phone. Right before she opened her mouth to talk to him, his ringtone, a catchy J-pop song, started to play and he rushed off through the hall.

Nemesis walked beside Y/N and glanced at her. "That was certainly strange, wasn't it?" Y/N glared at him in return. The h/c-ette knocked on the closed gray doors, Saki answering the door.

"Oh hey, Y/N! Are you here to join the cooking club?" Her bright smile nearly blinded the aforementioned girl. As Y/N was about to respond, she heard her best friend exclaim her name.

Taeko Yamada swiftly walked up to her, intertwining their hands. "Saki, she's not here to join, Amao said he would give her a tour. I would come with, but I have to walk Hanako home today," the ravenette pouted, sighing dramatically. "I need to make sure that he doesn't get lost. You both know how he is."

"I didn't know you were in the cooking club, Tae." Y/N tilted her head at the thought of Taeko not telling her something as important as that.

"No, I'm not, but Osano is. Sometimes I stay here during club activities so we can walk home together. Speaking of," the ravenette's head poked out of the club doors and turned, her eyes looking for someone. "Where is Osano? I swear he was just out here."

"He left to take a phone call, it seems." Nemesis responded from behind Y/N, Saki jumping at how he suddenly appeared. "If this is the cooking club, why do I only see pastries on the counter?" The girl with teal hair sighed, her cheeks beginning to grow pink at Nemesis speaking to her.

'Hmm. How interesting. I'll have to ask about that later.'

Suddenly, a shout was heard from down the hallway. Nemesis wrapped his arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her into his chest as he stepped back. Hanako Yamada, the disturber of peace, flopped on the floor after trying to tackle-hug a certain h/c-ette. He groaned loudly as his face pressed against the tiles.

"Hanako! Oh my god, are you hurt?" His sister stepped forward and helped the boy up. "Alright, you aren't. But you could've gotten yourself or other people seriously hurt. Luckily Nemesis got Y/N out of the way, or she would've been on the floor with you." Taeko slightly glared at the fact that Nemesis was still holding Y/N, his arm having loosened its hold. Hanako muttered an apology, his face also falling at Y/N and the man behind her.

"Yeah, thanks, Nemesis. My hero." Y/N awkwardly chuckled and stepped away from him, right as the concerned cooking club leader popped out of the room.

Amao Odayaka did not look very pleased at the sight of the four students in the hall. He sighed and beckoned them into the clubroom with a weary smile.

"Can't say I didn't expect Taeko's sibling to already be causing trouble," the brunet chuckled. The first year in question hung his head and trudged into the cooking club.

Y/N followed immediately after, but not before another club room caught her eye. One of the doors wasn't shut properly, showing what looked to be a large pentagram in the middle of the floor, surrounded by unlit candles. 'Must be Oko's club.' She smiled at the thought. The occult club and cooking club being near each other was definitely strange, given the opposing aesthetics.

The cooking club room was entirely pink, it made sense that Osano had joined. Even the utensils and stand mixers were pink. It was almost blinding. All of the members with their either bright or pastel colors fit in perfectly. And then there was Nemesis, who was scowling and squinting at the whole room, not trying to hide his disdain for the interior decorating.

The members were all sitting at a table (pink, of course, are you seeing a theme here?) and sharing what looked to be a tray of calamari. There were only two girls, including Saki, which Y/N found to be odd. 'Isn't Amao Odayaka one of Akademi's golden boys? Don't a lot of girls like him?' She was brought out of her thoughts when a black haired girl waved at her and smiled.

"So, Y/N, these are all the members besides Osano and Raibaru Fumetsu. Kokona was in the club last year, but she preferred drama club, sadly." Saki wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulders, a grin stretching from ear to ear. "I know you could choose something else, but I think it would be nice if you joined. Right Ajia?" Saki's eyes fell onto the same ravenette that waved.

"Oh, me? Yes, it would be cool to have another girl around. I am only a first year, though, so I don't know if I have any say." The girl sheepishly smiled and looked back at her plate, fingers fiddling with her utensils. "Would you like any octodogs? We just made them." Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking at Saki to explain.

"Right, you don't know what those are." Ajia murmured an apology, Y/N waving it off. "They're just hotdogs we cut into the shape of octopi." The h/c-ette glanced at Nemesis, who subtly shook his head. She politely declined and moved out from her place under Saki's arm.

Amao cleared his throat from where he was leaning against the counter. "We better get going if we want to see the whole school before club time ends." He bit his lip, the corners of his lips turning upwards. 'That's ho-', Y/N's thought was interrupted by a ginger barging into the room.

"Y/N, you're still here! Now I can show you around." He was panting, probably having run around the school looking for her. The other club members glanced between the two, smirking. Amao quietly protested that he, in fact, already said he was going to.

"It could be a group thing," Taeko smiled. "Hanako still doesn't know his way either so we can all go." She looked around at her friends in question, Y/N agreeing. Osano glared lightly at the male with brown hair but sighed and reluctantly nodded. Hanako grabbed Y/N's hand and began to drag her out of the room.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

"This is the nurse's office."

"Yeah, I'm sure they could tell due to the sign right next to the door." Osano rolled his eyes at Amao, who, in turn, huffed and faced away from the ginger. Taeko and Hanako warily glanced over while Nemesis and Y/N didn't try to hide their stares.

The group hadn't gotten far - they were still on the first floor - since Osano kept bickering with both Amao and Nemesis (even though the latter hadn't said a word). Luckily, the brunet tried his best to keep the party going and they had made it fully down one of the hallways. Taeko steered the group into the courtyard.

"Oh, and here's where Taeko reads, like a dork." The ginger scoffed and put his hands on his hips, glaring at the aforementioned girl. Y/N nervously laughed and placed her hand on Taeko's shoulder.

"I think it's nice that she's an academic. It makes her more pleasant to talk to, unlike some people."

'Oh my god, did the sweet baker boy just throw shade? What is happening right now?'

Taeko smiled and appreciatively nodded at Amao. "I quite like reading. Osano, you only read what's required, which is why you don't like it." Osano made a few noncommittal noises but ended up slouching and walking away, the others following behind him. "He gave up because it's true," the ravenette whispered to Y/N, the two giggling.

"I heard that!"

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The tour, in Y/N's opinion, started to get boring once they got halfway through the second floor, after passing by the martial arts club. But the tour went on. Nothing had particularly interested Y/N. She could join the science club like her mother had, but what if the members didn't like her? She already cooked at home, so there was no need to do it as an extracurricular. Sewing, art, music, drama, occult, and photography. Wait... photography?

Finally on the third floor, Y/N stared at the closed doors in front of her while the others walked past the club, not bothering to explain. There were people in it, she could hear them. Her curiosity got the best of her and she knocked.

"Y/N? What are you doing?" Hanako skipped over to her and beamed. His black eyes fell upon the sign as he mouthed the words. "Oh! I didn't know you were interested in photography!"

She wasn't interested in photography. Prior to moving, she had exchanged emails with Megamo Saikou and he had told her to be wary of this club in particular. While, of course, they were only normal students, they were far too adamant about finding out the supposed murderer's identity. There had only been one corpse found on campus. Toga Tabara, found near the dumpsters, head split open, shoes left by the railing on the roof. People outside Akademi assumed he committed suicide. The students knew better. Toga, a boy so concerned about his future that he joined every club, wouldn't give it all up. The photography club, being their perceptive selves, decided to ditch being lazy and get on top of that supposed case. Due to them investigating, Megamo didn't want Y/N to slip up and have the club find out that they were to be married. Coincidentally, Info had told her the same thing about them.

'How strange that a lone hacker and the heir to a tech company could have the exact same opinion on a group of students. Disregarding the fact that Info used to be a student here, it's too close.'

A blond male answered the door, knocking Y/N out of her thoughts. Hanako had completely changed his stance and the others were now closer, meaning it took a moment for this guy to answer the door.

"Sorry, we aren't accepting new members. I hope you understand." The boy's pale blue eyes stared into Y/N's. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head.

"Oh, is it because it's the beginning of the year? Other clubs are taking in new people." She knew why they didn't want new members, but she wanted to hear his excuse.

"No, we are just choosing to stay as a group of five. We work the best that way." Before Y/N could get another word, he closed the door. She sighed and looked at her fellow students. Amao shrugged, as did Osano. Taeko just scratched her neck and laughed nervously.

"It's probably nothing personal. Maybe they're just in a bad mood. It is only the first day, after all." Hanako nodded along with his sister's statements.

"They're losers, anyway. You're too good for them, n/n." Osano's cheeks grew a few shades of pink upon realizing what he said. "Platonically, of course, not that I needed to say that, since it's obvious that I would-" The ginger was cut off by Amao placing his hand over the other boy's mouth and shaking his head while chuckling.

"Stop rambling and let's continue the tour, shall we?"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

sorry it took almost a month, I've been busy with school and haven't had tons of ideas but that should be clearing up soon <3

#male rivals #yandere sim #yandere simulator #yansim #yansimmalerivals #osano najimi #amao odayaka #kizano sunobu #oko ruto #aso rito #mido rana #mujo kina #hanako yamada #osoro shidesu #megamo saikou #taeko yamada #info kun #nemesis kun #female reader #reverse harem #y/n #bittersweet infatuation

[ocean-waters]

hey ocean!!! :-) for the love your fandom ask game, let's try 14, 16 and 25!! ✨

Hey Rin! Thanks for the ask ❤️ you picked some good questions

#14: the ship that always makes you smile

Hmm. I wonder. Yknow.. I can't seem to recall any that would.

Alright, seriously, there has not been another ship like rinharu. Honestly, I struggle to put it into words since it's mostly feelings.

This pairing altered my brain chemistry and rewired me. Literally defined my taste when it comes to ship. If it reminds me of rinharu, there is a high chance i'll ship it. It's a ship that's got it all. Just the dynamic is so addicting and fun and thrilling. There is not one moment when they're together that is not overloaded with feeling. They play off of each other so well. They're both opposites, but also more similar than they realize. They have fantastic chemistry, and they are both so passionate, but they can also be pretty soft with each other too. Their moments make the show. I mean, they are the "core-axis" of free! After all.

From the very beginning of their story together, it's always been so entertaining. I loved seeing how their relationship started, grew, and evolved. It was love at first sight (or I guess you could say it was actually love at first swim). Rin's determination was unwavering, and he kept trying until he finally smashed his way through Haru's walls and eventually won him over with his charm, all while being absolutely enamored by Haru himself. And he truly did shake up Haru's entire world. Haru was so sure the only thing he needed was to feel the water. Then, in comes this smiley and annoyingly persistent kid and shows him a sight he's never seen before, and makes him feel so many funny feelings.

They're both so taken with one another, even if they don't want to admit it. I love how Rin gushes about Haru at any chance he gets, and how Haru is constantly thinking about Rin whenever they're apart. And i mean, gosh he quit swimming because he thought he hurt Rin. He had that much of an impact on Haru. They both drive each other forward, improve one another, and becomes their best selves together. Their relationship certainly wasn't without its bumps along the way, but i think that just makes it more interesting.

Seriously, when it comes to these two, they could be doing anything, and they would still have me smiling. I will treasure them forever.

#16: a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

Not sure if some of these really count as "tiny", but:

● I just genuinely love that whenever Haru has flashbacks of his childhood moments with Rin, the first thing he remembers/thinks about is his smile, and the scene is always tinted pink with cherry blossoms.

● Rin's friendship with Nagisa. He pretends to be aggravated by him, but he's got quite the soft spot for him too.

● How perceptive Nagisa truly is. He notices the small things about his friends and their behaviors. It's so sweet

● Haru's love for weird looking creatures, like northern stoplight loose-jaw kun. He would have loved sacabambaspis.

● Haru's hobby of wood carving. I would love one of his handcrafted iwatobi chan charms.

● Also one I learned about recently: Haru actually has double-jointed knees!

#25: a piece of advice for taking care of yourself in fandom spaces

Fandom, as fun as it is, unfortunately has its rotten side. You'll inevitably come across pointless discourse of any kind during your time in it. The best thing you can do is honestly just avoid engaging with it. Don't ruin your own happiness by starting arguments with people who simply won't listen. If they're constantly popping up on your feed, simply block them and keep enjoying your side of the fandom. Constantly being met with people being destructively negative about the things you enjoy will do nothing except bring you down. It is so much nicer to just be able to enjoy things. You don't have anything to prove to anyone, and you don't need to justify yourself for liking a certain character or a ship. Just post what you want in your own circle. Be free!

(That being said, there are actually interesting discussions one can have with people who are actually willing to listen and debate properly, and those can be good experiences too. I'm just talking about discourse like ship wars or arguments like: Rin Matsuoka is a toxic character, and you're problematic if you like him!!1!!11! and such)

[From the "love your fandom" ask game]

#lyf ask game #ask game #can you tell I love rinharu? i know it's not too obvious

[celestiall0tus]

Do you have any favorite moments from the show or moments you would want to change?

Hmm. Let's see.

So, let's get the easy one out of the way: moments I'd like to change. The scene in the wax museum when Adrien pretends to be a wax statue and everything that followed. I don't care if that was what kick started Adrien's crush on Mari, that scene is so incredibly hard to watch and I'd honestly just write it out or at least make it less creepy or have Adrien cut her off sooner.

Then there's Kuro Neko. There are so many moments from that episode I'd love to change. There's Plagg's muddled efforts to explain things to Mari, Marinette jumping to the conclusion that the fault is Chat loved her when it was her neglecting him, and the whole apology at the end.

Overall, those are the moments. Otherwise, if I'm honest, a lot of other things I'd want to change are just extremely poor writing and character decisions that would nullify certain situations and episodes, like Kitty Section signing Bob Roth's contact despite him blatantly stealing from them in the past.

Now, favorite moments? Well...

Despite my absolute hatred for the aftermath and how it was all but written out until Mari needed trauma for Season 4, Chat Blanc. I loved the concept of it. Even the execution wasn't terrible and worked, I just hate how it felt like (at the time) it was erased completely so no one remembered it. Of course until season 4.

This one is more a collection of moments, but season 1 LadyNoir before it got bad. I enjoyed the little moments of teasing, genuine partnership, and the dynamic just being fun. Honestly, that's what hooked me on this show was that partnership. It reminded me a lot of the crime dramas I watched when I was younger like Bones and Castle, though more Castle than Bones. Mostly due to Castle and Beckett being quite literally Chat and Lady. Castle the silly, light hearted one trying to charm the girl, while Beckett is just trying to do her job while mildly entertaining his antics.

Now, last two. The entire Stormy Weather S1 episode. It is what introduced me to the show, made Hawkmoth feel genuinely threatening, the fun teasing of the main pair, Chat getting to be an actual hero with Lady, and just everything. I honestly can't speak ill of the episode.

The last one is an odd one, but a confession nonetheless. I strangely enjoy Copycat. I think it has to do with Adrien/Chat the entire time being a petty bitch which is a fucking mood and vibe for me. And of course the cat fight and all the cat puns too. Honestly, I loved it.

One final, final one I thought of later. Argos's song with Red Moon. That thing honestly was fun, an absolute bop, and I may be a complete slut for villain songs, the darker the better. And nothing quite like singing a cheerful scat while casually erasing people from existence.

#ml sugar #ml salt

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt ~

Chapter 3: consent (part 2)

(Disclaimer: treasure and Bright eyes are the same person in this fic so just assume 3 things before reading, 1: Bright knows Porter is a vampire and vise versa, 2: I can't afford patrion but I do know what happend In the BA so if you have seen it just assume that they did bite each other they just didn't drink each others blood, 3: Bright dosnt know that Porter is a solaire. Got it? Ok)

TW. Mentions of mental health issues, abandonment issues and Foster care. Bright is ftm trans and uses he/him pronouns

Vincent and Bright had interacted before but not enough for Vincent to not feel nervous about talking to him. Especially about this.

William had told him what happened with Bright and that his answer was that he'd 'think about it'.

Now obviously Vincent wasn't going to sway him one way or the other,

But William had given him the vampire equivalent of 'dad's belt' for gossiping and causing that meeting with Bright to happen earlier than expected.

Besides, Vincent saw how egger William was to take in Bright so he just wanted to show Bright just how sweet this deal could be for him.

If he could just pluck up the courage to just walk over to him!

Just then, Vincent noticed Bright was stretching and groaning in a way that suggested he was stiff or in pain.

The perfect conversion starter.

"Ruff night?"

Bright turned his head towards him.

"Hmm? No actually, I had a great night"

He said this but still stretched out across the common room's couch.

Vincent knew what that meant, of course he did, he was Vincent!

"Yeah?~"

He didn't know where this 'small talk' was going but he was genuinely intrigued.

"Yeah. Went out, fully intended on getting wasted after a long and confusing day but then ran into some old friends and I hate getting drunk in front of people I know, so I got stuck as their double D-"

"Their what?"

"Double D, designated driver"

"Oooohh! OK continue"

"So yeah I got stuck, sober, then all of a sudden this guy comes up to me, lays it on real thick, so we started talking and I'm sure you of all people can figure out what happened after that"

"Wow good for you"

Bright hadn't told anyone this but he had met some of his and Fred's old friends from before....yeah.

You'd think they would have been a little bit concerned considering he and Fred had been 'missing' for ages now, but no.

When he finally sees his old 'friends' again....they didn't even care.

And yet, he still felt like he owed them for leaving and never coming back, so that's why he endured being their DD.

But a certain someone recently taught him that he didn't need to do that anymore.~

"He was also a vampire, which was kinda cool"

"Well I'm glad your mingling with vampires other than Sam and Fred"

There was a moment of silence between the two but then Vincent reminded himself of why he started talking to him in the first place.

"Speaking of mingling with other vampires, I heard about what happened with William"

Bright didn't answer

"And I also know I'm kinda what caused it so I came over here to apologise, it wasn't my news to tell, I'm sorry"

Bright's face went a lot colder than it was before but he still answered him, only he didn't look him in the eyes.

"It's cool, whatever..."

"Well I got the vampire equivalent of 'dad's belt' for gossiping about it so I thought I'd make it up to you"

Bright's face sofend with curiosity.

Vincent continued

"I thought it would be a good idea if I showed you what perks being a solaire Prince comes with"

"Wait-wait-wait!....Prince?"

Vincent held back a smirk.

"Yeah, William is the vampire king so becoming his progeny would make you a Prince, like me. I mean he's not your maker so you probably won't have the same level status as me or alexis but you'll still be classed as 'Prince'".

Bright eyes stared, starstruck. He remembered being a kid, running around with the "other girls" who were all dressed up like princesses, laughing and screaming with him chasing after them. He got yelled at for it later but he just didn't want to be a Princess.

He wanted to be a Prince.

And now, years later, literally after death,

He can be.

"Huh....I guess I never realised that..."

"Well It can be pretty cool, and since your considering it, I thought I'd give you a rundown on what it's like"

"What dose that mean...?"

"It basically just means,

Do you wanna go shopping with me?"

Vincent realised that this was a really long winded way of asking him that.

Bright then looked dead serious and got up from the couch, looked him in the eyes and said

"Vincent, I'm a gay, trans man who grew up with f*k all money

Of course I want to go shopping with you".

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Bright looked In awe at the car Vincent was showing him.

He whistled

"Sweet ride"

"I know!"

He was smiling ear to ear.

"Wanna ride IN it?"

Vincent jingled the keys

"Can I drive?"

After Bright asked that, Vincent no short of belly laughed.

It took him a moment to pull himself together, but when he eventually managed to stop laughing he looked at Bright and coldly said

"NO"

Vincent opened the car and Bright slid in after him.

The sun had just gone down.

Bright still hadn't gotten used to the whole 'sleep-all-day-and-stay-up-all-night' deal. Usually he was a master at the 'stay-up-all-night' part but not so much the latter.

And considering what happened last night...let's just say he wasn't exactly 'Bright eyed and bushy tailed'.

"Could we get coffee while we're there (Wherever we're going)"

"Yeah of course"

Vincent wanted to avoid awkward silence as much as possible, he also genuinely wanted to get to know him, the real him.

Not the one Sam had told him about.

Besides

It could be cool...having a little brother.

"Sooo...your 'thinking about' being William's progeny?"

"Yep"

.....

"Can I ask why?"

Bright sighed

"Well it's like this, I hate being Sam's progeny, it sucks! Nothing I do is ever enough and whenever I get mad or frustrated that I'll never be as good a vampire as Fred HE gets mad at ME because it's my fault...its all my fault...

But it's not like I don't know that and it's not like apologising is gonna fix anything...."

Vincent took a moment to take all this in.

From what Sam had told him, Bright was just a punk with a bad attitude who couldn't accept the blame for what happened at wonderworld and was a jerk to everyone.

But that's not what Vincent saw.

He just saw himself.

Or who he used to be.

Bright had accepted that what happened was his fault, he just didn't think apologising would do anything.

"So...why not take the offer right away?"

He really didn't want to seem like he was trying to swing him one way or the other, he just wanted to know why he wouldn't, since he hated Sam and Fred so much.

"Because....im used to being passed around from person to person, I hate it. I don't want to be reminded of that feeling again. Especially if William at some point figure's out that I'm not the little broken kid he clearly thinks I am, cos to be honest,

I really am the worst"

.....

"What do you mean...your used to it?"

"Oh! I'm a Foster kid"

He said this much more casually than he did just previous statement.

That did make a lot of sense to Vincent though, and it did clear up a lot. However his reason for why he won't take up William's offer was... worrying.

But low self esteem was definitely something William could help with.

Most of Bright's problems could probably be solved by this agreement.

But that wasn't for Vincent to say.

"Well...im sorry"

"Don't be, its cool......your cool"

Vincent looked at him but he was facing the window

He chuckled.

"So what did you think of William?"

Bright perked up but then looked embarrassed

"Hes cool too..."

"Uh huh, hes been known to have this...power over 'troubled vampire youth'"

Bright scoffed

"I guess...there was just something about him that made me want to-"

"Trust him? Respect him?"

"Yeah! What's up with that?! Does he have like a....genetic dominance over other vampires or something?! I respect NO ONE THAT quickly!"

Vincent began laughing at his sudden outburst

"No, hes just kinda...like that I guess. It pissed me off SO much when I first became his progeny, but you don't seem as upset about it"

"Yeah well...its like I said

He was cool".

Vincent wanted to go on but by now they had reached the parking spot of their location.

"OK looks like we're here, get out"

They both left the car, Bright waited by the car as Vincent paid for the spot.

It looked like this was a regular spot for him

And probably Lovely too, thought Bright.

When Vincent came back from paying, Bright and him walked into the mall.

"So, coffee,"

"Oh god yes"

As soon as they stepped into the building, a Starbucks was waiting for them.

Bright practically ran up to it, put his hands on the counter and asked for a caramel macchiato with as many shots as they were legally allowed to put in.

When Vincent caught up to him he made his order and sat down at the nearest table, Bright joined him.

"So, based on that order I'm guessing the whole 'up all night and sleep all day' thing has been kicking your ass?"

"Keen observation, but aren't we suppose to not talk about that sort of stuff in public?"

Vincent shrugged then gestured towards their surroundings

"Bright, look around, it's getting late and no one is here! Besides vampires have....culturally been known to ummm not ignore covert but....bend the rules a lil"

"Huh...?"

"It's like that one bad stereotype that is completely true"

"Here are your orders guys!"

The batista gave them their drinks after they both thanked her.

They took a minute of silence just to indulge in their drink of choice.

Vincent was way more comfortable around Bright then he was before actually getting to know him.

From what Sam had said, he had assumed he'd be more....hostile....? But he wasn't, he was just like any other newborn but with the added angst of abandonment issues and god knows what else.

After Bright had taken a few sips he looked up at Vincent

"So what's the actual plan here? Like yeah we're at the mall but WHERE are we going?"

"Well I just thought we'd hit my usual spots, clothes shopping, maybe get some snacks and then head down to 711 or something"

Bright nodded.

"OK so basically everything you do with Lovely? Got it"

"Y-yeahh but please don't phrase it like that, it would be a lil weird considering who you would be to me if you agree"

Bright shot him a look of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well" Vincent took another sip from his coffee "there's this general consensus that a mentor is supposed to act as a parental figure to their progeny, which means there progenys are kinda like siblings, at least that's how most of us view it...thats how I view it"

Bright paused. He had had many 'parental figures' throughout his life, none of them were ever permanent or knew how to handle him and his attitude.....why would this be any different?

He had also, as a result, had many siblings, but next to all of them were younger than him and if they weren't they were always older sisters.

He'd never had an older brother before.

"So...William's like your dad?"

"Yeah but just don't ever call him 'father' ok?"

Vincent seemed serious, it made Bright eyes a little nervous

"O-ok why?"

"He gets super defensive about how he's not a father"

"O-oh, yeah, right"

Bright's head hung a little but he didn't know why.

He didn't want another failed attempt at a father figure to be added to the list so why was he-

Vincent interrupted his train of thought when he tilted his head down to be at eye level with Bright

"But he IS like a 'dad' he will always tell you that".

Bright's head perked back up, still not knowing quite why

"But thats only if you agree that is now come on you can finish that on the way, I have a shopping craze that needs to be satisfied"

Bright got up, sipping his coffee along the way, then a smirk crawled on his face as a thought popped into his head.

"Hey you got turned when you were like 2 years older than me right?"

Vincent looked back at him, worried where this conversation was going.

"Y-Yeah why?"

The smirk got wider

"So do you shop at forever 21?"

After saying this he bust out laughing

"Oh you lil shit come here!"

Vincent said playfully.

He lunged for him but Bright ducked and ran, Vincent followed on.

There was basically on one there, it was like back in the old days when Bright and Fred would check out abandoned buildings together.

For the first time in ages, Bright didn't let that memory bother him, he just ran and howled playfully with Vincent on his tail.

And it was awesome.

After a while the two got out of breath, but Vincent caught up to him and not very hard and with little effort, pushed him to the ground.

They both just laughed for a moment, Bright still on the floor.

"OK OK you've had your fun, now come on, up"

He extended his hand towards him but he got up without it, not in any rude way Vincent just figured he didn't need help.

"So we ran past a couple of the shops I had in mind, wanna WALK back to them?"

"Yeah sure"

They went into the first clothing shop they saw and started browsing.

After a while, Vincent noticed Bright trying on a couple of accessories, chains, hats, shades ect.

"You thinkn of actually buying some of those?"

"Oh god no, some of these prices could pay for the second half of my surgery, I could never afford this!"

A smirk crawled on Vincent's face, he had been waiting for this moment.

"Oh, you think YOU'RE paying for these?"

Bright's head turned towards him so fast the shades he was wearing fell off his head and onto his face, covering his eyes.

He slowly lifted them back up then asked

"Come again?"

Vincent then reached into his wallet and pulled out what could only be described as a 'fan of credit and debit cards'.

Bright was flabbergasted.

"Dare I even ask? You aren't a stripper are you?"

Vincent gave a one note laugh.

"Ha! No no no this is just a solaire thing. What you didn't think Prince was synonymous with rich?"

Bright pulled himself together and stepped closer to him and sheepishly took one of the cards and went up to the desk to pay for the accessories he had on.

Vincent watched on and smiled to himself.

After no short of ransacking as many places as they wanted, the two left the mall but left the car where it was.

"Umm, what about your car?"

"Hm? Oh! Were just going around the corner"

It was pich black outside, when they turned a corner the only sorce of light....was the 711 stood before them.

It looked almost holy and it might as well have been with the way Vincent was gazing at it.

After a moment of watching Vincent bask in its glory, Bright felt a sharp pull on his sleeve and was pulled into the store.

Bright didn't exactly appreciate being pulled around so when they passed the threshold, he snatched his hand back.

"OK JD keep your pants on, it's just 711"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that because I've enjoyed our night so far. Now follow me"

"OK but I can walk on my own"

Bright followed him through the aisle, 'freeze your brain' now firmly stuck in his head.

Coincidentally enough, when Vincent stopped, Bright was met with the infamous slushy machine.

"You literally dragged me here...for slushys?"

"No I did not 'JuSt DrAg YoU oUt HeRe FoR sLuShYs' I brought you here to enjoy some ice cold liquid gold, after a long and and eventful night! Now pick your flavour, come meet me at the counter and go outside so we can sit on the sidewalk and chill!"

"OK OK, gezz"

Bright picked up a cup and pressed the blue raspberry and cola flavours.

Vincent went round the corner to get more snacks so Bright did what he was told and went up to the counter.

Vincent came back with his 'supplies' and slushy in hand.

He paid and they both went outside.

Vincent took a big gulp (hehe) of his slushy and listened to the silence for a while.

Until Bright eyes spoke up

"Do you think I should do it?"

"Do what...?"

"Agree to be William's progeny?"

Vincent hesitated.

He did have a lot of fun today, Bright wasn't a bad kid and he could tell that William liked him a lot.

But this wasn't about him.

"Well...I know you and Sam don't get along, I also know that kind of person William is and yeah being a solaire dose come with its perks

But I don't think I should sway you one way or the other.

Listen, I know this must sound bullshit but when I was first turned by him, I was so much like you that it kinda scares me"

"Oh f*k off"

"No, I'm serious. I had the same realationship with William as you have with Sam. So if I were you, knowing what I know now, I'd stay with Sam....but I'm not you and I don't think that thats really what you want"

Bright sighed and took a swig of his slushy.

"Yeah well...I think I'm still gonna marinate on it, ask around a bit maybe get to know you guys better"

"That sounds good"

That's way more than I did, thought Vincent.

"It's so funny to me, you'd think me and Sam would get along better considering how much we have in common"

At first Vincent thought he was being sarcastic but then he thought about it, then he asked

"Wait.....what are you talking about?"

"Oh yeah I forgot everyone leaves this part out....

You know what happend in wonderworld right? Sam told you?"

"Y-yeah"

"Well...you know that he was turned by Sam and that Fred turned me but what no one seems to know or care about.....is that I didn't want him to. I wanted him to stop. I didnt know exactly what he was doing but I couldn't. Make him. Stop.

Who knew being turned without consent was a big 'no no' am I right? I only found that out after it happened. Anyway its getting late or I suppose early, I can finish this I the car, you coming to or what?"

Bright stood up and walked towards the car but Vincent just sat there trying to take in everything that was just said.

Why did no one tell him that? Why dose no one know about that?! And how long was it before he found out that that wasn't OK?....

All these questions flooded Vincent's mind but he snapped out of it when he saw Bright waiting alone by the car.

What could he possibly say after that....?

The car journey back was deadly silent. Vincent realised why he was so scared to talk to Bright in the first place. He was worried that Sam was wrong about him, scared that all the things that Sam seemed to hate about him were just the same things HE did back then, scared that William would-

"Oh man I love this song!"

His spiraling, intrusive thoughts were interrupted by the sound of "dear Maria count me in" and by Bright's excitement when it started playing.

Vincent began to smile, he let himself ignore what Bright said before and let the sound of his voice overshadow the sound of his mind.

Eventually the two were belting it out together, Vincent lowered his roof and Bright stood up in his car, hands up, still singing as loud as he could.

That crazy kid.

Taggs - @darlin-collins

(Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter)

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted fanfic #redacted fic #redacted bright eyes #redacted vincent #redacted william

[prestonmonterey]

heheh it's that long or short anon message of what i think about you!!!!!!!!!!!

hmmmm okay so i do not know how close we are

i don't usually consider people my friend unless they consider me their friend first, out of like politeness, but i wanna be friends!!! we might already be friends and i don't know i think this is because of autism maybe or maybe anxiety idk idk

but anyways i think you are really interesting i do not want to overstep or be creepy or weird so its not at all like that but you are very interesting to me!!!! the version of you I my head is like there's two of them. theres.. preston.. adamandi and then the other version of you in my head you have black hair thats sort of like beatrix's if it was straight? and you're also tall to me

the way your brain works about certain things (ex: whenever we talk about the universe and whatnot :3) makes me stim, uuhm i think you're really cool and i like asking you questions and i like talking to you

we're literally vincent and preston from adamandi!!!! literally us!!!! therefore we don't like eachother /j /j

in my head it's like.. silly joking i don't actually dislike you not at all you're like the coolest ever and we barely really know eachother

I WANNA HEAR ABOUR YOUR TTS THOUGHTS TOO i love reading your posts about it heheh

if you were an animal i think you'd be some sort of horse or a pony. or maybe a bird or a lizard

if you were a planet in our solar system you'd be mercury, since it's the closest to the sun and the smallest planet (in our solar system, again)

aaand if you were a color you'd be blue.... if you were a star you'd be a red dwarf star... and you're like the random, decomposed animal bones you find in the woods on accident to me

i would love 2 know how your brain works but also im like that with everyone i wanna just crawl inside their minds and pull out the bad and the good i think i am autistic

if you were a pattern you'd be stripes. not zebra stripes or anything just plain block stripes! no specific colors. if you were a year you'd be 1835

i like associating people with things if you can't tell /silly (i ran out of explanations so I'm just telling you what you are to me)

if you were a rock you'd be limestone

if you were a household appliance you'd be that one fork in the kitchen that nobody uses to actually eat with, but the design on the handle is pretty !!!! not in a mean way that sounds rlly mean sorry

if you were a flower you'd be a daffodil; symbolizing forgiveness, unrequited love, rebirth, and eternal life. i think. i'm not headcanoning you to have unrequited love im just saying the meanings i remember off the top of my head. also it's yellow!

uummmmm yeah you reblogged this yesterday i think and i said i would so. here u go its not really that long but im also procrastinating sleep so. tired!

yayayay :D this is so sweet im actually giggling and kicking my feet rn /gen /p

i also wanna be friends!! youre v cool :3

i also totally get the like 2 versions thing i have the same thing for my online friends :D heehee im kinda tall for my age i think? like 5'5'' i really really wish i had curly hair :((( (my dad had kinda curly hair but asian genes prevailed so i have pretty thick, mostly straight hair) and i have an undercut :\ (not sure how i feel about my haircut rn. it looks kinda awful bc i have a scar on the back of my head where hair doesnt grow. bc scar tissue)

hmm for me rn you just look like vincent. but like. maybe a bit shorter idk

i also love hearing about your thoughts theyre so cool!!!

i think if you were an animal youd be maybe a mouse or raccoon?

if you were a planet i think saturn, not sure why

if you were a color i think youd be a warm, dark orange, like pumpkin pie or autumn leaves. idk you kinda remind me of fall i think

if you were an object youd be an old compass that someone found in their attic that was like passed down from their great grandparent or something

if you were a pattern you'd be honeycomb or tartan. colors would be sunflower yellow, brown and moss green

if you were a year youd be 2000 i think. last time all humans were on earth. not sure why but that fact reminds me of you

if you were a rock youd be jasper

if you were silverware youd be a teaspoon with a really long handle, if you were a general household thingy youd be those door handle/lever things with a spiraly end

idk anything about flower meanings TwT but i think youd be a black eyed susan or forget me not

:DDD

#marble asks #im assuming youre vincentauraliuslin? idk who else it would be- #kinda silly if it wasnt #ty for the ask :3

[kelyon]

On the House 4

The only way for Gold to see Belle again is to go to a masquerade

Read on AO3

When Jefferson came through the door of the office, Gold cast aside the useless stack of papers in his hand. For the past quarter of an hour he hadn’t read anything or done any work whatsoever. He’d been too distracted, waiting for his secretary to come back with the morning post. 

“Well?” Gold asked by way of a greeting. Every day for the past week, he had given the same query, and every day for the past week, Jefferson had given the same answer.

“Nothing today.”

Of course not. 

Gold allowed himself a huff of irritation. 

It was a rare mission that Jefferson and his cohorts couldn’t accomplish to Gold’s satisfaction. The young man had a sharp mind and boundless energy, not to mention a certain cunning charm. He was a useful man on the street, keeping tabs on the goings-on of the city while Gold kept his hands clean in the quiet office above a pawn shop. 

Having taken off his coat, Jefferson exchanged the morning post for the bundle of papers that Gold had already read and remarked up on. One of Jefferson’s many duties was to take Gold’s brusque business decisions--loans denied, favors called in, collateral converted into cash--and pretty up the language before delivering the news to the recipient. 

“You have checked around the outside of the house, haven’t you?” Gold asked. “It’s possible she’d be hesitant to send anything by post. She might have dropped a note from a window in hopes that passers-by would pick it up.”

“That sounds like something from a cheap novel and you know it.” Jefferson shook his head. “Of course I planned for that possibility. I’ve had people skulking around every door, window and hedge of that house. It’s gotten so bad, some of them have gotten caught and had to pretend to be customers.” He sat down facing away from his small writing desk, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “There was a tight spot when young Tilly was pulled in, but apparently the house has a girl who caters to her own kind.” He chuckled. “That opened Tilly’s eyes considerably.”

Gold didn’t have time to dwell on his employee’s Sapphic epiphanies. He stood up from his desk. 

“So we’ve had our people inside the house and none of them have seen Miss French? There are no reports on her welfare?”

“None, and I have asked.” Jefferson pulled out a small notebook from his breast pocket and consulted it. “Our men--and Tilly--have enjoyed the company of a fancy blonde, a pregnant blonde, a confident girl with dark hair and brown eyes, and a timid girl with brown hair and brown eyes. Those last two were working in tandem. No one has mentioned curly brown hair and blue eyes. Not going to bed with her, nor even seeing her in the house.”

Gold gripped the handle of his cane. He had a powerful need to start smashing things. 

“What is Cora doing to her?” he muttered.

Jefferson got up to stand beside him. He leaned against the mantle of the fireplace.

“I could have someone go in and request Miss French specifically,” he offered. “Hell, I’d do it myself. Dress up like a gentleman, wave around enough of your money to match any price Cora set. My only hesitation is that such a maneuver might draw attention to the girl. Might make things worse for her.”

“We don’t know how bad things are,” Gold said mostly to himself. “How can we know how much worse they could get?” 

Jefferson looked to the side. He ran his tongue over his lips before he spoke. “Well if not me, then who? Hmm? If only there was a way to know for certain how your poor little Miss French was fairing. If only there was someone who could make Madame Cora sit up and beg. If only--”

“That’s quite enough,” Gold snapped. “As you said, we can’t draw attention to her. It will do Miss French no kindness to remind Cora of--of my involvement.” 

He did not name the specifics of what had happened between himself and Belle French. There was no name for the combination of pity and perversity the beautiful girl had stirred in him. No name for that quality which had drawn him to her--and which had upended Cora’s scheme to have him attached to one of her own daughters.

If there is any impulse of mercy in you, you won’t give Cora a reason to hate me. 

That night, while they were still entwined in her bed, Belle had begged him not to see her again. She had wanted nothing more than to live in peace with the madam who owned her home and her body, who controlled every aspect of her life. His desire had destroyed Belle’s peace, destroyed his own peace of mind along with it. For days, she had plagued his thoughts, the sweet girl who endured so much. Going to her again might ease his spirits, but it would only worsen her suffering. Cora would make sure of it.

He had written to Cora, the morning after his night with Belle. He had advised her not to take offense at his snub to her daughters and asked her to treat Miss French with kindness. After all, Cora had a rare and lovely bloom in her garden, it would be to her advantage to encourage such a blossom to flourish. He had sent a bouquet of white roses to illustrate the point, and requested her to convey his regard to Miss French. He would wait in expectation of a message.

Seven days later, no message had yet arrived. Nothing from Belle and nothing from Cora. In the many years of Gold’s association with Cora Mills, he had never been on the receiving end of her icy disdain. If this silence was a mark of her irritation toward him, he shuddered at the thought of what she was doing to someone entirely in her power.

“Have we seen her leave the house?” It was possible that Cora had secreted her away to some dank and foul prison.

“Night and day we’re watching and we haven’t seen a thing.” Jefferson checked his notebook again. “I’ve asked the neighbors and it seems Miss French has always been a homebody, even before the nature of the house changed. It’s not unusual for her to stay sequestered unless she’s going out on business. Word around town is when the daughters Mills first started attending society functions last year, they had a little shadow who would hold their belongings and quietly correct their etiquette.”

“Teaching whores to be ladies and ladies to be whores,” Gold muttered. 

“Both parties seem to have gotten the knack of their trades by now.” Jefferson closed his notebook. “Miss French hasn’t been seen with them in several months, except for larger occasions when the whole house is out in force.”

“She deserves so much better,” Gold said quietly.

He looked out the window, to the dingy street below him. Ragged children ran through the alleys and young girls sold oranges to passers-by. Weary mothers hung up washing and men took nips of gin while they waited for work to present itself. None of them were evil, but nothing in Gold’s sight had any glow of goodness either. Nothing soft or lovely or refined. This was one of the more respectable streets in the city, and it was worlds apart from the life Miss French had been promised. 

“A young lady spends her whole life sheltered from the world. She grows up knowing she’ll be cared for by her father, her husband. Then tragedy strikes and she finds herself alone. Destitute, with nothing to her name save other people’s debts…” Gold shook his head. “It isn’t right, what happened to her. It isn’t just.”

Jefferson regarded him quizzically. His head tilted at an angle, exaggerated by his signature oversized top-hat. 

“I thought I knew you,” he said soberly. “I’ve never heard you speak of justice as a desirable force in the world. Typically, I’d call you to be on the side of injustice, assuming it benefited you.”

Sinking into his chair, Gold considered that. Jefferson was correct. In his long career there had been plenty of injustices that he had turned a blind eye to, or even assisted. People came to him when they were desperate and he only bothered to help if they agreed to pay his price. There had been girls before Belle--pretty girls, sad girls, girls who had begged him for pity that he never gave.

Mr. Gold never gave anything to anyone. He had never bothered with kindness or mercy. The world was cruel, life was cruel. Success would only come to men who were every bit as heartless and unyielding.  

“Perhaps she changed me.” He shrugged off the possibility even as he named it. “Perhaps she makes me want to be a better man.”

“A good woman can do that,” Jefferson nodded. “Which makes losing them ever more the blow.” 

Gold looked at Jefferson, but said nothing. He never knew how to react when his friend broached the subject of his late wife. Losing her had been such a blow that Jefferson had almost run after her into the arms of death. 

The poor boy had lost a year or more to the madness of grief. It was only the thought of his young daughter being abandoned, raised by strangers, that had drawn him back to health and sanity. Gold had seen Jefferson through all of it, and had helped in all the meager ways he could. He couldn’t bring back the dead, but he could provide material goods. He put Jefferson to work, gave him an occupation for his time and his intellect. Young Grace was cared for and educated, and she had her father.

She, at least, would be spared the fate Belle suffered. If Gold did nothing else in his life, at least he had done that.

With a sigh, Gold turned to his correspondence. He opened the envelopes, read pleas for funds or for extensions on rent payments. He wrote brief notes for how Jefferson was to answer each. 

“I thought I had you decline the invitation to Cruella’s masquerade?”

Jefferson turned in his chair. “You did, and I did. Why?”

Between two fingers, Gold held up a small postal card. It reeked of cigarette smoke and gin. “She sent a note reminding me to attend tonight.”

The other man shrugged. “It’s not every day a widow comes out of mourning.”

“It is when you’re Cruella de Vil Reitherman Luske Geronimi Fineberg.” 

“Perhaps that’s why she wants you to come: She’s searching for husband number five.”

Gold scoffed. As if he didn’t have enough problems in that regard. He tossed the note into the rubbish bin and picked up his next letter. 

That match would never work. Cruella liked her men stupid, and Gold knew where too many of her bodies were buried--both figuratively and literally. If he knew Cruella’s parties, there would be plenty of men there who would suit her better. Those events attracted all types: Landed gentry, cash-rich businessmen, foreign dilettantes. Plenty of men for bloodthirsty women to get their claws into.

Gold dropped his pen. 

“Jefferson,” he said. “Did you mention that for certain events Cora’s whole house will go out to do business?” 

He grinned. He seemed to know what Gold was thinking. “I surely did.”

Hastily, he scrawled out a note. When the ink was dry, he sealed it and handed it to Jefferson. “Deliver this to Cruella yourself,” he instructed. “And while you’re out, you’d better see about getting me a mask.”

****

The costume was, Gold thought, a bit garish for his taste. Jefferson had stopped by a theater company and picked up a frock coat that appeared to be made of crocodile leather. Ridges down the spine and spikes around the neck added to the reptilian appearance. The inside was lined with cloth patterned to look like golden scales and there was painted gold lace at the sleeves. The coat was cut closer to the body than Gold usually wore, though not so tight as to prohibit movement. Jefferson hinted that there were leather trousers that completed the costume, but Gold insisted on wearing his regular suit underneath the coat and mask.

The mask was more or less a dragon, with horns and fangs and frilled ears. It seemed fashioned from the same brown, scaled leather as the coat, but decorated with glass beads strung on golden thread. The mask had a long, pointed nose with the upper lip curled into an impish grin. The lower half of the mouth and jaw were exposed. Nothing impeded the eyes from view once another person was close enough for conversation.

How effective a disguise would this actually be? How effective did it need to be? The goal was to see Miss French again, without rousing Cora’s ire. As his carriage made its way through the streets, Gold contemplated his own intentions. Would it be enough to merely see Miss French? Would he be able to determine her welfare from sight alone? Would he know from a simple conversation? Did he dare to ask her for more?

He licked his lips as his mind went back to the night he had spent with her. That closet of a room, cluttered with broken furniture and lit with candle-stubs. Her body like a delicate flame, pale and lovely and wavering as he touched her--as he brought her pleasure she had never sought before. Belle was a light, flickering in an ocean of darkness. She drew him in like a lure, a beacon. Her goodness, her sincerity--the honesty of her nature. Belle alone felt real, in a house that was built on artifice. 

Could he possibly leave her alone, after the rapture of being in her presence? Could a man in the desert walk away from an oasis?

The carriage stopped in front of Cruella’s mansion. Gold put his questions aside and tied a mask over his true face.

****  

In celebration of her fourth time coming out of widow’s mourning, Cruella de Vil had pulled out all the stops. Music poured out onto the street, along with excess revelers. Wine flowed and platters of food towered on sturdy tables. The city house she had inherited from her second husband was packed with masked faces and costumed bodies.

 Normally in a society occasion, it was a parlor trick to look at a person’s clothes and determine their status and station. This was how a discerning lady or gentleman knew who it was to their advantage to speak to, or who they could safely snub.

A masquerade upended such normalities. At an event like this, a king could be disguised as a beggar or a paid musician look like a bishop. This was a world of glass gems and painted gold, of wool tufts decorated to look like ermine fur. Monsters and goddesses walked freely among barbarians and milk maids, all of them drinking and dancing and making merry together.

In the midst of this riot of color and noise, Gold had to find a girl whose greatest skill seemed to be going unnoticed. 

He scanned the walls as he walked through the mansion, looking for anyone too timid to join in the fray. What would she be dressed as? How would he know her? He had no promise that she would even attend the ball, only a hunch that Cora wouldn’t let anyone in her employ pass up the opportunities of connections and coin that this event would bring to her enterprise.

It didn’t help that most of the women here had taken the masquerade as license to dress in a manner that made them indistinguishable from prostitutes. Cruella’s friends were known for being free-spirited under the best of circumstances. With inhibitions lowered even more, there was no telling if a woman was a married mother or a renowned courtesan. 

Certainly there was no telling if the men who leered down ladies’ necklines were suitors or customers. Did the men know what they were doing? Would they be stunned when the women they’d been having such ease flirting with insisted on coin before they allowed themselves to be charmed any further? All the flesh on display here was for sale, but respectable women didn’t demand payment until after marriage.

Under his mask, Gold frowned. He was having no luck wandering the halls. He should have brought Jefferson along with him. Jefferson and Tilly and all the others he’d had scouting Cora’s house for news of Miss French. Lacking any of those resources, he was reduced to asking for assistance from the least reliable source.

****

“Rochester, darling!”

Cruella held court on a balcony overlooking the main ballroom. She could see everything from up there and--more importantly--everyone could see her. Out of some kind of skewed respect for her supposed mourning, her gown was half-black and half-while. The bodice and long sleeves were white silk, with onyx--or black beads--sewn in as spots. The voluminous black skirt had pearls--or white beads--in the same pattern. She wore a red domino mask and a wig that split down the middle with black hair on one side and white on the other. There were red stones at her neck--certainly not rubies--and red opera gloves that went up into her sleeves. As was her custom, she smoked tobacco from a long cigarette holder and waved the thing animatedly as she shouted instead of spoke. 

“Darling, I was so thrilled to get your note that you were coming to my little soiree. It’s been ages since we’ve had a chance to chat!”

Gold gave Cruella a performative kiss on both cheeks. “You haven’t needed anything from me lately.”

She gave him a wide, red-lipped smile and led him to a couch where they could sit. A uniformed servant handed Cruella a small glass of gin. Gold smirked at that. Out of the gutter for years, yet Cruella had never lost the taste for her first love.

“Yes, I’ve done quite well for myself,” she said as she looked out at her party. “But you’re here anyway, aren’t you, darling? Is it possible this time you need something from me?” 

He took a moment to adjust his mask. “It might be possible,” he said. “Do you know if Cora is expected to attend tonight?”

Cruella’s lip curled at the mention of Cora’s name. “Oh yes, that bitch is here somewhere, with her pimped-out daughters and her flock of frightened geese.” She drank down her gin in one gulp. “I wouldn’t have invited her if she hadn’t promised to bring her whole house. She’s so stuck-up, even though she came from nothing, same as all of us. Where does that cunt get off thinking she’s better than me? I have ten times the wealth she does! Marriage made me an actual lady, not just a grasping snob.”

“It’s because you’re rich enough that the upper classes don’t mind you acting like a guttersnipe,” Gold explained coolly. “You break the rules Cora has to follow and you break them with style. And you do the work she thinks she’s too good for: You seduce your husbands, you marry them and you do your wifely duties.”

“With some of them I even enjoyed it, for a while.” Cruella took a long drag of her cigarette.

“I’m sure Cora thinks enjoyment is a waste of effort. She makes her money off of men’s pleasure, not her own.”

“What man ever could pleasure her?”

He didn’t answer that. 

“I suppose that’s why she out-sources now. She sees herself as a manager of her employees’ labor, and she sees you as little better than them.”

Cruella snorted. “Like I said, a complete bitch.”

“Do you know where she is?”

She rose from the couch, looked out over the balcony onto her party. After a moment Cruella gave a languid wave of her hand. 

“Looks like she’s set up shop in the eastern corridor. She’s got all her girls dressed up like flowers and she’s the Queen of Hearts.” She snorted again, then gave in to a full-throated laugh. “The Queen of Hearts! What a disguise for someone who has no heart at all!”

Pushing himself up with his cane, Gold rose and looked down at where Cruella had gestured. Now that he knew what to look for, it was easy to spot the little garden of flowers for rent. A full-figured woman dressed as a royal purple clematis twisted and climbed around a man clearly identifiable as Leopold, Duke of Neigebury. A red tulip seemed caught between two men--a serpent in a turban and the Knave of Hearts. There was a blue cornflower who kept her arms folded over her stomach, as though such a posture might conceal her pregnancy instead of emphasizing it. A pink aster flitted about the area, under the watchful eye of a dark-haired poppy. Presiding in the center of them all was a woman in a crown, with a red and white dress and a heart-shaped mask.

And close to her side--a white rose.      

He didn’t think. His legs seemed to move of their own accord, taking his body where he needed to go without once stopping to confer with his head. It was her, he knew it was her, and he needed to see her more than he needed air. 

Pushing his way through the crowd, Gold dimly noticed the high population of men in this area. Old and young and in-between, alone or in close groups. Some talking to the women clustered around the marble columns, some hanging back and watching, envy combining with the lust in their eyes.  

Cora’s girls were not the only ones working tonight. There was no confusing the women in this corridor for what they were. From their costumes to their cosmetics to their bold, direct stares, they advertised what they had to offer any man who could pay for it. Their brash voices may have spoken the words of flirtation, but they held the clear tone of trade. 

“We could walk in the garden, sir. It’s so quiet and dark out there, we’re sure to be alone.”

“Tell me more of your estate, my lord. Is it very large?”

“It’s always so thrilling to meet a man who knows how to handle his weapon!” 

“They’re not my rules, but Madame Cora’s: If you come to the house it’s two guineas. For me to go home with you is five. Or, for just one shiny gold coin, you can have me here and now, sir.”

There was an edge to these conversations, a raw steel of desperation. After all, any man could be behind these masks. A girl might make herself the mistress of the prime minister if she offered her charms to the right disguise. The ravenous desire--the need these women had for security, for success, for another night of food in their bellies--was matched only by the hunger their clients had for their bodies. All of them--the buyers and the sellers--were garish and grasping, as heated as dogs in rut.

The only relief came from the white rose. She alone was serene in her beauty, as lovely as the moon. Modestly gowned in alabaster satin, she seemed to float above the animalistic throng. She was peace in the chaos, light in the darkness. 

Gold went to her. Brushing past Cora, he took the hand of the white rose. It was longer than he remembered, but perhaps that was due to her gloves. The heat of her crept into his skin--into his hands as he held her, then his lips as he pressed them to her fingers.

He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. His eyes traveled slowly up her body, taking in every inch of her graceful form. Why did he remember Belle being short? The woman in front of him was tall and strong-featured. The mask of white rose petals did little to disguise her sharp jaw and--

Gold dropped the hand he was holding.

Under the mask of the white rose, poison-green eyes looked out at him with triumph.

“Why Mr. Gold!” The voice had a well-taught accent, a practiced imitation of natural class and sophistication. “What a pleasure it is to see you again!”

Straightening, Gold gave a tight bow. “Zelena,” he said curtly.

Shamelessly brazen, Zelena Mills wrapped her arm around his, trapping him. Gold took a moment to be grateful for the thick hide of crocodile leather that separated his flesh from hers. She began to pull him towards the central ballroom, away from the other girls.

“Do you dance, Mr. Gold?”

With his free hand, he stomped his cane into the ground and wrested out of Zelena’s grasp. His blood boiled, but he fought to keep his composure. This wasn’t her fault.  Zelena Mills was just a pawn in this game. Her costume had been bait but it was his stupidity that had sprung the trap.

“I do not.” 

His teeth clicked against each other as he let out the clipped words. It was an effort not to snarl at the girl. He held up his cane as evidence of his inability to go with her. 

“I’m sure you will find another partner,” he said politely. “Quite soon.”

He had barely turned away from Zelena when Cora was in front of him. Her mask was on a stick and she had set it down to speak with him.

She was smiling. The warm, effortless smile was just as much a false face as every other mask on display tonight.

“I hoped Zelena’s disguise would tempt you to come out of hiding, Mr. Gold. If I had known of your affinity for white roses, I would have offered them to you years ago.”

He took a step forward. “Where is she? She is here, isn’t she?”

“Of course she’s here,” Cora said airily. “Little chit has to earn her keep, doesn’t she? And the cost of keeping her has gone sky-high in the past week or so. Poor thing has had to keep so busy--”

“Where?” Gold growled. “Where is Miss French?”

Cora raised her eyebrows in an expression that conveyed both surprise and amusement, but she allowed his passion to go otherwise unremarked. 

“Unless she’s closed the deal much more quickly than normal, the girl is behind the column there, speaking with Monsieur de Chasse. He seems quite smitten with her, though that may be because she’s the only woman here who can speak French. Or at least,” Cora smiled, “the cheapest woman here who can speak French.”

Without another word, Gold stalked again through the crowd.

****

This time, he was not fooled. This time, he saw what was in front of him, instead of what he wanted to see. This time, he looked at the shape of the woman he sought, at her small feet in red slippers, at the tumble of chestnut curls and the pert, pink lips that peeked out from under her red mask. He listened, and he knew her voice, even if he didn’t understand the language.  He was finally close enough to see her beautiful blue eyes.

For a moment, all Gold could feel was relief. He had found her at last. She was alive, she was well. Whatever horrors Miss French may have suffered, at least she was standing. His actions had not taken everything from her. The possibility existed that they could be together again.

Then Gold’s perception widened and his relief soured. Belle’s costume of a red rose was scandalous even for this company. All of Cora’s flowers wore green stockings, but Belle was the only one who displayed where the stockings ended--in garters halfway up her thighs, baring a full inch of creamy flesh before the hemline of her skirt. Some diabolism of corsetry hoisted her breasts so far up over her neckline that such a line might as well not exist. 

Two small rose petals clung to her skin in a desperate attempt to conceal her nipples. There were more petals, haphazardly glued over her bare arms and across her chest. A thorn vine wrapped around her neck and suddenly the petals looked like drops of blood.

Her skirt was circles of scarlet fabric, overlapping to resemble larger petals. The fabric gapped directly in front of her womanly places. It had to be deliberate, someone had done this to her. The scraps of material opened like curtains, inviting themselves to be parted and entered. The only gesture at decency was to affix a cloth rosette at the apex of the area--the shape of which only advertised the part of Belle’s body that it was supposed to be hiding. Glass beads were sewn onto the blooming flower, giving the impression of dew on the crimson petals--or wetness on a woman’s flesh.

Gold gripped the handle of his cane so hard it dented the silver. 

This was obscene. 

The man in front of Belle was dressed as Orion, the hunter of Greek myth. His costume left him bare-chested and bare-legged, displaying a physique suitable for a mighty god. Coarse, black hair covered every last inch of his muscled body. He loomed over Belle, who had backed herself into the column and seemed to want to make herself one with the stone. 

The brute had a club, a thick thing the size of his forearm. As he spoke, he kept using the club to part Belle’s cloth petals and play with her rosette. The club was so large it threatened to crush the flower if he pressed too hard. And this man seemed the sort to press hard.

“...dans mon château à Lyon…”

Gold’s French was best suited for business dealings, but he understood that the man was boasting about his country house and all the fine hunting that could be had there. Something about la lance piquer poulette. 

Belle nodded her understanding, but her smile was tight. Her naked shoulders shook, ever so slightly. When she brought a coupe of champagne up to her lips, her grip was so stiff Gold saw the tendons in her ungloved hand. He felt how badly she wanted to break the glass over this Orion’s face.

A single tear rolled out from under her mask.

That snapped Gold into action. He crossed the short distance that separated them and thrust himself bodily between Belle and the hunter. 

She gasped. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. 

Gold ripped off his mask, revealing himself to her. “Cora or no Cora, you’re not staying here another minute.”

Then he grabbed Belle by the wrist and pulled her away. He didn’t turn when the Frenchman started shouting, “Attendez! Arretez! Elle est à moi!” He only paused for a moment when they passed by Cora.

She didn’t speak. Her expression was as emotionless as stone. She was furious. 

Gold reached into his pocket and picked out five golden coins. With an exaggerated bow, he scattered them on the ground at Cora’s feet.

Then he turned on his heel and all but dragged Belle to his carriage. 

#on the house #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfic #victorian au

[honeybeewhereartthee]

My Darling Dolls AU: Dolls, Gods and Tatsumi Kazehaya

<previous || Table of content || next >

Your second doll is Tatsumi. A doll you saw inside a church. It was point out by a odd ball neighbor of yours who always seem to be in the water.

...

Your walking in your neighborhood with Mayoi safely hidden in your (somewhat see through inside bag but tinted outside)bag pack.

Your about to go to the crossing when you saw someone in the fountain in the neighborhood park. You walk closer to the location and saw a familiar person. Kanata.

His a somewhat friend slash acquaintance of yours since he only been out of his place rarely since they are over protective of him, he said it's because he is a god (or so proclaim to be) everyone who worship him, don't want him to be harm, dirtied or rip apart (the last part was weird statement but you cannot ask why it's added thru).

You can count the times you and him talk. It is kinda weird someone like him who seems to be well off in status would chat with you, but he said You have just forgotten about how you two become friends in the first place because of an accident you cannot remember happening to your life.

He is odd but you cannot judge him as you play with dolls since long ago, which makes you both odd. What a perfect friendship.

"Hi~ hi MC-chan~ wanna puka puka with me?" He softly and slowly called out to you as he open his eyes to look at you as he float in the water, with his cloths on.

"Ahm... I don't know your out so I don't bring extra cloths." You scratch your head apologetically yet you already remove you shoes and socks. You look at your watch and see you still have extra time to spare to run back to your place to change.

"But sure~~ hehe." You put your bag fixing where you at and start to float with Kanata in the water. The feeling of water in your skin felt like your in space. You don't need to worry about the water being clean or dirty as Kanata cult would have made sure every water source around thr neighborhood block would be clean enough for their 'god'.

While mindlessly floating, you hear Kanata seating up as the water splash around you.

"Nee, neeeh~ does mc-chan still love dolls?" Kanata ask as he stare at you with a soft smile on his face.

"Hmm." You nodded your head as you look at the direction of your bag. "I love dolls. Like mayoi~~ I really really like mayoi~~" You said proudly.

"Ah... If that certain toy hear your words, it would so heart broken, ...This made me want to record it and made it listen to it in a reply... just to see it's broken hearted face... "

You heard Kanata mumble something odd again. You wonder if Kanata have a sadistic tendency in that soft and puka puka personality of his.

"Why did you ask btw?" You change the topic as you don't want to dig deeper at his odd sentence.

"Hmm, you see. A follower talks about a doll in a church.... It have a similar outfit like your own... " He draw a location using a water in the side of the fountain. You stared at it, then to the ocean boy.

"...woah! I'm actually looking for a lead for a similar doll! Thank you very much Kanata! Love you very much! Hehehe!" Your an honest and open minded child who would tell what you felt to the people. You hug Kanata before you went out of the fountain.

Through at that time when you hug him, it felt weird because it remind you of the feeling how it felt hugging mayoi in his human form. It's not that they felt non human it's just the aura or presence. Or whatnot.

You can't explain it but maybe that's your mind telling you that they aren't normal.

You grab your bag and waved good bye to Kanata, your going back home to change and go to the location he told you about. Not even looking back, you don't notice Kanata disappear and a doll similar to him seat there, flopping back to the water, looking back to the starry sky with it's doll eyes.

"Ah... That's a surprise... MC chan never fail to surprise me... I wonder... If I should help her again... Ah... Maybe next time... I could ask her that.... " Kanata is a one of the original darling doll but he don't have an owner, he does have playmate but they aren't his owner.

He is a doll that is use to be the symbol of god, as well he have a label that made him different from other dolls.

Maybe Because of the praises and worship of all his cult follower. He have gain enough love and care to be human without an owner, maybe he gain too much he gain some odd ability like granting wishes. He too have a duty for his fellow darling dolls that held responsible for as long as he could remember.

Kanata felt someone picking him up, he stared at the green eyes of the new comer.

"Ah... Your late. MC-chan left already." He mumble with a soft smile that seems to mock the other.

"Ah. So mama is late it seem. Well I was busy with idol business, gotta be the best solo idol in the world after all...~" Madara mumble smiling fakely as he put Kanata on his pocket. He turn to leave the place to go to a certain cult to return Kanata back as ordered by his so called parent.

"... puka puka..." Kanata mumble as he thought about the past. He have no interest to chat more to the toy.

There's many way for darling Dolls to gain human form. But the only important way is to gain love. Be it be from owners to people who idolize and worship you. Being an idol is another way to stay human. Because being in the idol industry means there's fans that would continue to support and love you.

Yet sometimes Kanata mumble if it's better if he have a owner like you, or at least be someone like Madara who share special connection with you.

...

You manage to get to the location and saw the said doll, on its knee praying to the holy. Mayoi is quick to point at it when no one is looking.

"Tatsumi...!" He called out to the doll from a far. The doll don't hear him through as it's focus on its prayers.

No one seems to give care about it. But your quick to ask the person in charge of the church if the doll have an owner.

The priest look at you oddly and wave you off. Your free to take away that satanic possess item he said.

Mayoi who's in your hands is shaken when he heard those words being describe meant for the praying doll. You can't say anything because the priest is about to start his Sunday prayer.

Your quick to grab the doll who seems to went limp the moment his been hold. But your softly hold him to your arms with Mayoi beside him.

"could it be... " The praying doll mumble as he stare at the fellow doll beside him but he cannot ask questions as they are in a public place. But looking at the side view of a familiar batch/unit mate. He is certain it is mayoi.

...

It took almost haft an hour to come back home and went to that church. But you did good job for today, as you close the door behind you and went to your bed.

You place the two in the bed and inspection the new doll for any minor problem with his body, you saw something wrong with his leg, it's somehow stick even through it's only have few thread connecting it together.

"I'll go get some equipment." You mumble as you left to get the said items. The moment you left mayoi move to look at tatsumi. "hi... It's been a while. " He mumble. Tatsumi is surprised yet he smiled" so it's really you, mayoi-san!"

The two chatted by the time you come back they have told what seems to be summary of what they have miss out of each other life in those past years.

"hihi! I'm mc. I'm going to fix your leg if you don't mind. " You said cheerfully as you seat on the side of the bed, looking at the rolls bad limb.

"Oh! I am tatsumi" he is quick to bow down his head and introduce himself to you. "...but .. You really shouldn't bother about it. I cannot even feel it..."

MC: but I insist.

You says as you softly grab the doll legs and apologize for being rude and pain. As you began to fix his limb. Tatsumi stared at you in wonders. He thought he just saw an angel that was sent by god, for his long waited wish.

Mayoi stared at you with a wide proud smile" mc is really a nice person... Ah... It makes me wonder how much luck I give up to have them as my owner..."

Tatsumi who seems still question all the events that happen suddenly mumble"... Are you an angel?" He ask you which made you pause.

MC:lol me an angel? You should say demon lol. Cause I lie and did some bad things. I mean not murder or bad crimes. I could say I'm not pure and holy as an angel. I just love dolls. Ùwú also I'm done. Now it looks like it's new.

Tatsumi: ah... thank you very much... But could I ask you why you taken me home?

MC: ooh. I want to find you because you are mayoi dear friend right? You can stay with me if you want. The house is big enough for more people or dolls after all. Ehehe.

Tatsumi: ah. But I don't want to be problem...

MC: huh... You won't be. Welcome to your new home tatsumi!

You hug him and hug mayoi who felt left out through he won't openly admit that fact and would be down for the whole time in the sideline, but since your with him for years, you know quiet a lot about him. You felt warm when you hug them, somehow it felt safe and warm.

...

Tatsumi as your doll would always felt like he don't belong and felt daze when he stare at you and mayoi in his human form preparing the dinner. He too is in his human form that he never thought would be in again.

Your a soft hearted child who easily like things or people when they gain your soft spot and care deeply to people or things. Love to offer for a hopeless darling doll like him, who thought would have his days be ended with him endlessly praying and hoping for a day, like this would happen.

But he soon open up to you to be himself that he never thought would appear again. One of the things he did when he start to be open up to you two, He would encourage you and mayoi to pray every time through but won't force it, it's just a habbit he have.

Maybe because his a doll label as the 'priest' or something of opposite of mayoi, who is the phantom. The other two doll is too, label with things that would make them stood up yet the two says you learn them once you see the last two yourself. When you ask what kind of dolls are the other two.

It seems that, Your always seems to have a bad dream about an accident or an event. The elder alkaloid dolls you have always hears you moaning in pain and calling out for someone crying in agony. The only way to calm you down is when you hear a lullaby, knowing that fact, mayoi and tatsumi would sing to you either it be raining or sunny. As long your fast asleep with a wonderful dream, as it's one of the simple things they could do to repay you for taking them in and loving them.

You did sometimes sees tatsumi doll body become large when mayoi is mumbling things you can't hear clearly. Tatsumi would nag mayoi for his unholy thoughts like a sermons of a priest.

He really do have kin sense when someone did some unholy things. Through he won't pray much to your business as a respect you and mayoi is much worse than you in some aspects.

Tatsumi would willingly volunteer to assist you if your out shopping, since mayoi cannot stand the crowds he would be left in the house to take care of the house work.

Through sometimes you would drag mayoi out when you want to buy some cloths for those two or look for more clue for the other two dolls.

At those times, somehow Tatsumi gain attention not just because his a good looking man with short light green hair and purple eyes. It seems his someone once famous from before yet no one have guts to come close to you two as you went shopping in wet market.

You wonder what he does before and ask him. He said he once an idol. One of the things that he discovered that would help him be human, yet an accident have happened. He failed and he failed his dear friend he wish to continue singing with.

He did add the fact he don't have an 'owner' but people who proclaimed as 'family'--he said people would take darling doll home to be a family as sometimes they base on dead people image and characteristics or maybe they cannot have a child. The family of his is someone who handle the church.

That's why he act like a priest yet he cannot find LOVE from his so called family, he discovered what's idol is all about. He wanted to share love to people and be loved back. His plan work till it failed. He wish he could sing for people again one day, but having you as an owner still outweigh such hopeless hope.

You left and wonder about future plan after you heard about tatsumi confession of his past and dreams.

A/N: Love. There's many different form of LOVE. So keep that in mind.

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