#and coincidentally i was listening to Pay the Man by Foster the People. so i just... had to draw something..

[temeyes]

i was laughing real hard til my teeth fell out

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku General Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, violence, he breaks your fingers, Kyo feeds you bird-style and it's pretty gross and gnarly, delusions/detachment from reality, Stockholm Syndrome, masturbation, slight misogyny/traditional gender roles, forced motherhood, allusions to non-con, you and Kyo share a toothbrush ugh, lots of references to death, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Caring 

Similarly to most other Hashira, Kyojuro is greatly attracted to honest, genuine kindness.

His world is so full of hatred, death, and pain, and having a darling who is softer, sweeter, more empathetic makes his heart swell.

(And, occasionally, other things will swell when he sees his darling smiling or complimenting or speaking with children - but Kyojuro pays it no mind. So you shouldn’t, either.)

There’s just something so alluring about a darling who genuinely cares for the people around them - he himself is quite positive, if not blunt, and a darling who can match his philosophy of protecting and caring for those who need it would be a perfect match.

He likes the idea of a darling who has the best intentions of others’ at heart; it’s refreshing to see and interact with someone who is so pure and wonderfully kind, because while his fellow slayers are certainly committed to a good cause, his darling is different.

They’re naturally sweet, utterly unaware of the horrors of this world and yet still striving to make others smile, still trying to help undo any wrongs those around them have experienced.

This aspect of his darling is one of the first things he notices about them, and while he’s not a selfish man by any means, he’ll grow to absolutely love when this caring nature is directed at him, particular after long, difficult missions where he’s both physically and emotionally exhausted, only desiring to hold something soft and sweet and warm.

Coincidentally, something exactly like his darling.

Passionate

The specific passion itself is inconsequential – it doesn’t matter what his darling loves, as long as they love something.

He himself is driven by internal motivation and a righteousness to help others, and while his darling doesn’t need to be quite this serious, he likes the idea of them having goals and aspirations.

The most likely way this manifests itself within his darling is through a creative platform – art, music, culinary arts, writing, or any sort of activity in which his darling can express themselves.

He likes that his darling has something they truly enjoy, and he’s the type to want to learn about and indulge in his darling’s passion.

He’ll eagerly listen to everything they have to say, absorbing the information with wide, glittering eyes and a smile, trying so very hard to listen to their words but getting repeatedly distracted by how utterly adorable they look when they’re concentrating.

He can’t stop admiring the way they look when they’re discussing their passion, how happy they become, radiating a sort of joy and glow that only makes him fall harder and deeper, his obsession solidifying with every smile they give him.

And he’ll fully foster this passion of theirs – he’s got access to any resources his darling can dream of, easily providing them and enjoying the way their face lights up, how they become so grateful.

His only caveat is that he has to watch them as they work at their passion, getting a front row seat to watch them enjoy themselves, his bright eyes fixed on them the entire time because god, how are they so utterly perfect?

It’s endearing to Kyojuro because in his mind, his darling looks at him that way, too, with a smile and undying love.

Ambitious

Now, his darling doesn’t need to be ambitious in the sense that they take huge risks, or even that they have high expectations and goals for themselves.

It can manifest this way, sure, but the main core of why he finds this personality trait attractive is because it shows drive.

He likes a darling who has a strong sense of self; he doesn’t want to change his beloved in any way; he wants to be their pillar of support, to offer unwavering help and encouragement for whatever pursuits they’re chasing after, no matter how big or small.

He thinks it’s a wonderful thing to have dreams for the future, just as he does – he dreams of Senjuro once again having a happy family (one he hopes his darling will help provide), and of all demons being eradicated so that the world can live peacefully.

He’ll cherish and respect any dreams his darling possesses, but only if they don’t interfere with what he believes should happen.

He prioritizes his relationship with his darling above many things, and this includes what his darling wants most.

He will be expecting them to dutifully become his loving partner and wife, to bear his children and help him raise them, to be a guiding, loving hand to teach them morality, charity, and all sorts of other things that his darling hardly believes he possesses.

So while he’ll likely crush the ambitions his darling possesses, the mere fact that they have ambitions is attractive to him.

Talkative

It’s not that Kyojuro can’t fall for a quieter darling, but rather that he wants someone who will match his chattiness.

He’s naturally quite loud, truly a boisterous man who loves to interact with others.

He’s constantly peppering his darling with questions, his voice a steady flow as he just talks and talks and talks, throwing compliments and them alongside grandiose declarations of love, all intermixed with small talk about the weather or the flowers on the sides of the village pathways, or even about the pretty birds flying in the sky.

He just likes interacting with his darling, and he needs someone that is willing to return his eagerness to talk.

He likes the way his darling’s attention stays on him when he’s speaking to them; how their eyes stay fixed on his form, how they nod along to his words, how they laugh at his outlandish, unbelievable claims and logic, how they just simply acknowledge him, making him feel comfortable and seen and wanted.

Kyojuro will want to spend hours talking with his darling, and he needs someone who can match this energy. He needs a darling who can pepper him with their own questions, who can keep the conversation flowing and keep the interaction alive.

Besides, Kyojuro has this unwavering, unsatiable curiosity for his beloved, one that can only be partially quelled when his darling is revealing more and more about themselves.

And he’ll eagerly listen, mentally storing away each new piece of information, remembering absolutely everything because everything about his darling is important, something that must be remembered and cherished and worshipped.

They’re just perfect, and if they’re naturally chatty, it only furthers his obsession. 

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Delusional 

Generally speaking, from the moment that Kyojuro’s feelings for you fully form, he’s absolutely, utterly under the impression that every emotion, desire and draw he feels towards you is returned fully. He honestly believes that you’re just as in love as he is, that the connection he’s so acutely aware of between the both of you is mutual, that you’re just as desperate and eager to be his partner, his lover, his wife and the woman he’ll spend the rest of his life with. 

He doesn’t have any real romantic experience - he’s been attracted to women before, sure, but he’s never courted someone before you simply because when he courts, he intends to wed. 

And as a result, his only real reference for romance is his own parents’ relationship. And while it was loving, beautiful, healthy while his mother was still alive, time and his changing father have left Kyojuro with a bit of a warped view of love. 

And this is where his delusions stem from - he’s confident, desperate for you to return the passionate feelings he holds for you, and he manages to convince himself of your growing love for him every day. 

He’s so sure, in fact, that even as his obsession with you forms (slowly, as he’s a bit picky about partners and can be a bit oblivious even towards his own feelings), so do the beginnings of his detachment from reality. As he slowly begins realizing that he enjoys being in your presence more than most other people, your smiles and greetings of oh hello Rengoku, I didn’t know you’d be here will seem more and more like you expressing your glee at having him by your side rather than a simple, platonic welcome. 

As he realizes that hearing you laugh makes his palms sweat and his heart race, he begins thinking your laugh is really for him, that your chuckles are stronger when they’re directed at him than compared to others. 

He’s imagining your pretty face lighting up with that radiant smile behind closed eyes when he’s falling asleep at night, and slowly he begins concluding that your every quirk of the lip towards him must mean that you’re happy with him, that his presence alone fills you with a sort of joy that you simply can’t hide. 

(And, perhaps you know that it’s you that fills his thoughts at night – maybe you’re purposefully plaguing his thoughts, trying to tell him something - perhaps you want him to think of you and your lovely mouth, the way your lips look when you say his name, how your tongue flicks out to wet them just so…) 

It’s mostly innocent in the beginning; his delusions manifest more as simply misreading the signals you send him, honest mistakes that aren’t too uncommon – but, as the relationship (or, at least the one Kyojuro is trying so very hard cultivate) progresses, these slips in judgment become more and more profound, more and more difficult to ignore. 

When he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest as he inhales deeply and enthusiastically greets you in a voice just a bit too breathy for your liking, Kyojuro sees your discreet attempts at ending the far-too-long hug as you merely trying to get comfortable. 

Surely you just want to feel more of his body against your own, or want him to be closer so that there’s nothing separating you from him, from the love he’s oh so willing to give you. 

When you bite your lip and avert your gaze as you politely ask him to stop staring at you so much and following you home, Kyojuro will simply smile, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a firm don’t worry, I don’t mind protecting you! It’s my place as a Hashira, after all, so don’t needlessly fret! 

He honestly doesn’t understand why you’re not as happy as he is, and frankly he can’t even really fathom the idea that you aren’t happy – how can he, when he’s been searching for so many years for a partner to love and spoil? 

How can he, when your body just seems to perfectly fit against his own, your voice like honey and your name a drug as it slips from his lips? 

How can he, when he’s seen his father so harshly decline, when the memory of his mother is still so fresh, when he wants so badly to build a family of his own, to give Senjuro another family to call his?

How can he, when you become the sole reason he begins valuing his own life during missions, not being as reckless because he needs to come home to you - you need your lover and husband, of course.

(In more ways than one - who will protect you? Provide for you? Pleasure you?) 

Kyojuro honestly latches onto you, his every thought and emotion revolving around you you you, to the point where even once he’s locked you away, deep inside the Rengoku residence with your shared bed and lovely, expensive new kimonos neatly folded in stacks upon stacks (all in shades of reds and golds, of course, to signify your status with him), he still won’t recognize that you’re always crying because you’re scared. 

He won’t realizethat you flinch when he touches you because you don’t want him anywhere near you. 

He won’t connect the dots that you spend each and every night curled up in a ball weeping because you just want to go home, please Kyojuro, please… 

Try as he may, he just can’t fathom that you aren’t as madly, desperately in love – so don’t bother, really, because it’s much more hassle than it’s worth, and in the end he’ll get what he wants. He always will get what he wants, so why don’t you just give in? 

He’ll never let you go, never believe any of your pleas to be freed from him, so why don’t you just accept his love? 

Protective 

Honestly, your personal combat abilities are irrelevant - in Kyojuro’s mind, you’re weak. Defenseless. Laughably unable to keep yourself safe and out of trouble - incapable, even, though it sounds a bit harsh.

He believes that you’re too fragile and sweet and wonderful to be anywhere near a demon, a human with bad intentions, or anything of the sort.

Your strengths lie not in battle, but in your charm and beauty - you’re so sweet, your words melting him like butter and leaving him as putty in your hands, his heart doing backflips in his chest as his fingers twitch to do anything and everything just to keep you smiling.

Your talents lie in the way you effortlessly intrigue him; your words ensnaring his attention no matter the topic, your touch sending electricity up his spine, even your most mundane actions making him stop and stare because every little thing you do is important.

You simply aren’t made for the battlefield, or for confrontation in general - he’s sure of it, and he’s arguably the most trustworthy source of judgment you could find. He’s a seasoned Hashira, seen more death than you can imagine, slaughtered more demons than you can count, so could he really be wrong in his assessment of your abilities?

He sees you as a bit of a baby, in all honesty, because while he’s more than aware of your womanly charms (the not so subtle way his eyes rake over your figure when he forces you to bathe with him is enough to convince you of that, if the way his hands ghost over the bulge of his trousers when you speak to him wasn’t enough), he still can’t shake the paranoia that you’ll one day be hurt.

He’s terrified that you can’t really take care of yourself as well as he can. And frankly, the paranoia isn’t unfounded – it’s difficult to fault him for his overprotectiveness when you think of his past, how often he sees death, and how often he’s the cause of it.

He’s too accustomed to seeing others’ lives lost, and he absolutely refuses to allow you the same fate, so long as he’s breathing and has enough finger strength to grip his sword and send air rushing through his lungs.

He’s determined to a disturbing degree to keep you safe; with every demon he decapitates, internally he’s sighing in relief because that’s one less monster that could potentially sink their claws into you - every demon dead is a step towards keeping you safe, healthy, alive, his.

He’s patronizing in an odd way, because while he doubts your capabilities, he doesn’t treat you like you’re a child. He’s just hovering, always, with his eyes glued to you and that same unnerving, wide smile on his lips that never seems to go away when you’re around him.

His gaze is wide and excited as he sees how you bring the bowl of soup to your lips to sip, the intensity of the way he watches making your hands tremble and a bit of the hot soup spill down to your chest.

He’ll let you feed yourself - for now - but as soon as you flinch, the heat and wetness making you cringe as you get up to clean yourself, he’s on you – a flash of yellow and red as he tut-tuts and uses the sleeve of his haori to wipe up the mess, a thumb against your lip and his face much too close to yours as he tells you to be careful, don’t hurt yourself, my flame.

He’s not letting you touch anything with sharp edges, for fear that you’ll trip and cut yourself, nor does he allow you permission to speak to anyone new that he hasn’t already extensively vetted in his own way.

(This comprises mostly of just simply observing someone, and the moment he sees something even slightly unfavorable - like a snarky comment or even having their hair be messy - he’s deciding that they’re not good enough to interact with you - you’re better than them, and speaking with them would only taint you, bringing you down from the pedestal he places you on.)

 He’s controlling, not allowing anyone into your life that isn’t himself, to the point that he’ll simply show up the second another man or woman begins speaking with you, a strong arm around your waist with fingers digging in much harsher than they should, that familiar smile tight on his lips.

He’s terrified that he’ll one day lose you, and in a lot of ways keeping you safe is his own way of living up to the expectations of his mother.

You’re weak, so damn weak, and you need someone to care for you, to be there for you and take care of you in your time of need, and Kyojuro is more than happy to take on the role, to take responsibility of your life and safety.

It’s a bit overwhelming, how he’s always offering to do tasks for you, interrupting you halfway through to take over with that broad grin of his, that laugh and a rambunctious what kind of lover would I be if I didn’t carry your groceries for you making it difficult to stop him.

And really, eventually you’ll get to the point of relenting and letting him to do as he pleases, because as much as the man may intimidate you, scare you or disturb you, there’s just something about his desperation to please you that’ll get you feeling oddly flattered, flustered simply because of the lengths he’s willing to go.

Because really, while it may scare you how his hand always seems to find a place at your hip, don’t all the stories and movies have chivalrous male leads helping guide the girl through crowded areas, a steady hand to help keep them grounded, just as Kyojuro does?

Sure, it’s weird how he knows the order from every restaurant in town that you like, how he’s always able to show up at just the right time with a steaming bowl of udon or whatever you’re feeling, but doesn’t it feel nice to be cared for, that he thought of you and made the stop to buy you something?

It may be disturbing how he gulps and smiles wider every time he sees you bend over, but isn’t it flattering to know that he finds your body attractive?

He won’t allow you to place a finger on anything or anyone that could hurt you, so you’d better get used to the life of a pampered housewife – because while it will take him a long while to allow you to cook with any sort of heat, there’s something oddly therapeutic about being your big, strong partner that provides for you, while you keep his bed and heart warm, all with that natural charm he finds so alluring. 

Clingy

Because Kyojuro’s perceptions of your relationship aren’t exactly realistic, he’ll come off as extremely, extremely needy to you. But it’s in a strange way – he’s not constantly clinging onto you, needing your reassurance and needing your eyes to stay focused entirely on him.

(He certainly won’t discourage this kind of behavior, of course, but he isn’t that outwardly desperate, and he isn’t the type to physically grasp your chin to keep you looking at him. He’ll perhaps grasp your hand or your waist to keep you at his hip, but he’s not quite that blatant.)

Instead, his clinginess manifests in how he’s simply always around you.

His presence will become a constant in your life – you’d be hard pressed to not see those familiar blond and red locks in your peripheral, or to hear that booming voice ringing in your ears. It would be difficult to find yourself in a public situation where Kyojuro isn’t standing diligently at your side, that blinding smile spread across his face, turning just a bit softer and a bit more earnest when it’s aimed at you.

Really, he simply hates being away from you. Not having you within his sight makes him nervous, anxiety itching at his stomach because where are you?

It’s not possessiveness, not a paranoia that you could be talking to other men, but rather an honest, genuine, horrible fear that you could be hurt, that someone could’ve taken you and injured you and touched you and possibly even have killed you.

And frankly, the fear isn’t too unfounded – you’ll understand why he's always rushing to you, literally running to catch up with you when you wander away from him, a steady hand pressing into your back as he pulls you into a hug, the faint smell of woodsmoke and musk filling your nose as the hard planes of his chest press against you.

It’s understandable, so you won’t really wonder why he’s always insisting on accompanying you every free moment he has, his presence acting as your shadow but much, much louder. It might make you uncomfortable, sure, because having someone always by your side is a little disorienting and overwhelming at times, but you’ll tolerate it – how can you tell Kyojuro no, anyway?

He’s so radiant when he’s giving you that smile, his eyes sparkling and his hands soft and gentle as he grasps onto yours, telling you that he’s so excited, we must try the new ramen shop down the street! I’ll order your favorite, you needn’t remind me what it is! I think we should share one, and perhaps a second or third…

(It’s probably not worth mentioning to him that you never even told him what your favorite is, he just seemed to know it, a fact that initially unnerved you, but you’ve found that guessing what you’ll like seems to be a talent of his. It’s not, of course, because he’s spent hours talking with any family members or friends of yours to learn every possible scrap of information about you that he can, introducing himself as your fiancé and charming them enough to get even the most sensitive secrets out of them, including your menstrual patterns, your bathing routine, even your temperament as a child because he’s convinced it will give him insight into the temperaments of your future – and inevitable – children together.)

You’ll disregard his penchant for always staying by your side in the beginning, but as time progresses it’ll become more difficult to let his behavior roll off your back.

Accompanying you to the market is fine, but you’ll bite your lip and find the courage to speak up when he ends up straying a good five feet behind you, his bright eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he keeps pace with you.

(When you turn around to ask him why he’s not walking with you, but rather trailing behind you like some sort of stalker, he’ll just laugh and tell you in that familiar, boisterous voice that he can protect you better this way! Besides, the view from this angle is excellent! Dissecting that last comment will only make you more uncomfortable, so you simply nod and keep walking, picking up your pace and desperately wishes you’d be arriving sooner.)

Him wanting to meet all your friends and acquaintances is fine, but when he’s pushing his way into the conversation and snaking an arm around your waist, you’ll feel just as awkward as your companions, disturbed by the casual manner with which Kyojuro handles you.

(This almost always leads to the assumption that the two of you are together, which you’ll frantically shake your head to, spouting some nonsense about being just friends that makes Kyojuro’s brows cock inwards, sending a glance at you with quizzical eyes. Just friends? You are certainly friends, but you’re more than that – friends don’t daydream about each other, and friends certainly don’t spend nights with ragged breaths, bucking hips, and the other’s name slipping from their lips like a prayer.)

He’s just a lot, and while you knew this from the beginning, time will only increase his behavior, pushing him more and more into spending time with you, into writing you letters while he’s away on a mission (they’re mostly detailing how much he misses you, telling you of each object and person that reminded him of you, and while it would be sweet, the sheer volume and frequency of these letters will make you loathed to open them), even into pushing past your boundaries and being much, much too familiar with you.

(You’ll bid him goodnight after he’s walked you home from the meal he insisted you share, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint and instead waltzes straight into your modest home, settling himself at your tableside and beaming at you, telling you to join me, my flame, I wish to hear about your deepest desires! He won’t insist on staying the night, as that would be too inappropriate for a not yet married couple – which he seems to be insinuating the two of you are – and will eventually take his leave, but not before gently grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles that’s much, much too wet, and far too long.)

His clinginess can be suffocating, of course, but once you’re stuck with him, forced to live in the Rengoku estate and call him your husband?

Well, if you thought he was needy before, it’s nothing compared to the way he treats you then – constantly wandering hands (concentrated mostly at your waist, hips, and squeezing your thighs), compliments that toe the line between heartfelt and disturbing (you are so very beautiful, particularly when you’re asleep – did you know that you smell a certain way when you’re unconscious? It’s sweet, like ripe fruit; I wish to smell it at all times), and those eyes always, always focused on you.

Every free moment he has goes into attending to you, whether you want it or not, so don’t even bother trying to get some distance from the Flame Pillar.

He will invade your space and he will not be regretful, his delusions most often barring him from even realizing that you’re uncomfortable.  

He’s simply a man who ardently admires and desires you, and at the end of the day, you can’t even really blame him. Because, as they say, love makes one do crazy things, and he’s certainly, certainly in love with you.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

When it comes to jealousy, Kyojuro is surprisingly relatively unaffected, all things considered.

He’s not someone who’s biting at your heels the moment another man spares you a glance, and while he obviously doesn’t like the way other men interact with you, he’s not nearly as suffocating regarding his possessiveness as some of his fellow Hashira.

He tends to give others the benefit of the doubt, and while he’s still very protective over you and would immediately step in if another man posed a threat to your safety or comfort, he doesn’t automatically assume that any man who interacts with you has nefarious intent.

And so, he doesn’t immediately grow jealous and snarl at any man stupid enough to come within a few feet of you – he’s not as depraved, at least in that sense.

(In others, absolutely, but if Kyojuro has one redeeming quality, it’s his judgement of character.)

However, this isn’t because of some moral high ground the Pillar possesses, or a firm sense of lucidity – in fact, it’s quite the opposite, as his delusions drive most of his indifference regarding other men giving you attention.

He’s so, so confident in the idea that you’re meant for one another that he honestly doesn’t even register that you could interested in another man, that you could be stolen away from him willingly, that you could fall in love with anyone but the Flame Hashira himself.

He just doesn’t get it, and so he isn’t as suffocating as he could be in these situations – no, not by a long shot, something you’re admittedly equal parts lucky and unlucky for.

Because really, while you won’t have to deal with the isolation that comes with extreme levels of possessiveness, being Kyojuro’s darling is certainly not an easy ride – how can it be, when he’s so blatantly unaware of the signs in front of him that a man is coming on to you, that he’s smiling and flirting with you and reaching out to brush the hair away from your eyes while you bashfully grin and laugh at his lame jokes?

How can you not be unsettled with the way he’s so unaffected, always spouting nonsense about how in love you two are, how perfect of a match you are, how no man would ever dare take you away from me – how could anyone break such a real bond of love?

It’s disturbing, and as time passes slowly you’ll come to realize that while he won’t drag you kicking and screaming away from another man trying to get more than familiar with you, the alternative of watching him broadcast what he perceives to be your ‘relationship’ to every stranger who makes eye contact with you will get old very quickly, the feeling of him almost trying to show you off making your skin crawl and a cold sweat break out over your hairline.

Kyojuro isn’t subtle, not in the least, which is why the minute another man approaches you, you should be ready – the embarrassment will be thick, as will the discomfort of everyone involved (except the Hashira himself, of course).

So you might as well stop trying to converse with other people – after all, Kyojuro has no problem acting on his intuition, so won’t you just not give him a reason to be so extravagant? 

The moment the man in the small market stall shoots you a shy smile and approaches you, there’s already a sinking feeling settling in your gut, the knowledge that your self-proclaimed ‘lover’ is only a few stalls down making you bite your lip in anxiety.

He’s polite, by all accounts – full lips a pleasant pink color ask you about your opinion on the newest shipment of melons, the fruit laid out in front of you in a pleasing display. There’s a respectful distance of a few feet between your bodies, and his voice is soft, calming, the complete opposite of the boisterous, loud slayer you’ve come to be so close with. It’s refreshing, and you shoot him a smile as well as you point to a certain melon on the display.

This one looks ripe – you can tell, you know, by the markings on the fruit. The more yellow spots, the better the texture will be.

The man’s still looking at you, but his gaze shifts to the fruit as he nods in agreement. He laughs a bit, then reaches out to pick up the melon. I’ll trust your advice, then.

 The interaction is somewhat short, sweet and innocent, and though you get the feeling that the man finds you attractive (the light blush on his cheeks tells you as much), you don’t feel particularly uncomfortable.

But all too soon the peace of the moment is ending, and a familiar call of your name has your spine stiffening, your throat bobbing as you heavily swallow. The call comes again, and all too soon there’s an unfortunately familiar hand settling on your waist, Kyojuro’s muscular arm wrapping around your body and pulling you flush against his side.

Being so close in public would normally embarrass you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you know what’s coming.

My flame, who is this? A friend of yours? Kyojuro asks, and before you can open your mouth to answer, the stranger does.

Oh, um, I’m Takeru.

He’s visibly uncomfortable, and as you try to subtly squirm out of the slayer’s grasp, Kyojuro’s smile only widens.

He nods his head lightly, his smile growing even brighter. A pleasure to meet you, Takeru! I am Kyojuro Rengoku, thank you for helping keep her safe at this busy market place!

The man – Takeru – shifts awkwardly, unsure how to respond to such a strange comment, but it doesn’t seem to stop your unwanted companion.

You see, she has such a habit of wandering away in crowded places, and it makes it hard to keep an eye on her! You’d be amazed at how often I’ve seen her trip and fall in places like these!

 He laughs at that, and you feel a new kind of embarrassment eat away at you. Does he really need to be sharing all this information?

Yes, it’s very crowded, Takeru agrees, and you silently send him a pleading look. He blinks at you, discomfort clearly swimming in the black depths of his dark eyes, and internally you beg Kyojuro to just drag you both away from the stranger.

She can be so forgetful, but that’s the wonderful thing about love! Despite her clumsiness, she is still graceful and elegant to me, and that’s a sign of true love, wouldn’t you agree?

Takeru nods, hesitantly, and you grit your teeth.

Kyojuro sighs dreamily from beside you, squeezing you even tighter against his side. And I do love her, of course! She is my soulmate, the future mother of my children, and every time I gaze at her, my devotion only grows deeper!

You’re visibly embarrassed now, trying to cover your face and desperately willing the interaction to just be over, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to hear your silent prayers.

He grabs your wrist gently, his lips pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, and immediately you’re eyes grow wide. Surely he wouldn’t, not in a public setting ��

He cuts your thoughts off with a press of his lips against yours, the groan that he releases against you making you shiver in anything but pleasure. Your eyes are still open, and you see Takeru staring with a dropped jaw, evidently shocked at Kyojuro’s blatant display of affection.

Your brows furrow, and as he slips his tongue past your lips, you find yourself only able to focus on the way Kyojuro is growing louder, his groans getting more pronounced as the kiss grows hungrier, more desperate, feeling less like a tender, heartfelt sign of love.

After a good two minutes he finally pulls away, your lips feeling sticky and wet from his saliva. He stares down at you with heady eyes, his tongue licking his lips as he whispers your name under his breath.

You go to say his name, to ask him if you can just leave the market, but he cuts you off with a laugh.

Oh my flame, where did Takeru go? We must have scared him off with our display of passion! My sincere hopes that he’ll one day find a love like ours.

You very much don’t wish that, but as Kyojuro grasps your hand and guides you to the edge of the market place, passing through the spot Takeru had departed from during your sudden and overtly steamy kiss, you’ll find yourself sighing.

The blatant act of romance was unwarranted and unwanted, of course, but somehow your lips are tingling, your heart racing in shamefulness and something else – something that grows stronger and Kyojuro turns to look back at you, a grin stretching across his lips, his cheeks tinted pink as he gazes at you.

It’s wrong and you’ll hate it, every part of you screaming to not be fooled by the boyish look he’s giving you; he’s a slayer, a grown man who very clearly doesn’t understand that you are not future spouses, that you are not in love.

You’ll hate yourself for it, but even as he leads you back to your home, guiding you and not letting your hand go the whole way (even though you you’re very familiar with the route and don’t need his navigational help), you’ll find yourself almost, almost wishing he’d kiss you again – just not in front of a stranger this time.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because he’s on the more delusional side, Kyojuro’s view of your relationship is warped.

He’s already eager in the context of romantic relationships, but in yours, specifically, he’s rushing through all the steps, too excited to get that gold ring on your finger and his last name replacing yours to really take his time with you.

And this becomes problematic particularly because you will have no idea, at least at first, that the Flame Hashira believes you’re courting one another, that it’s simply a matter of time before you’re keeping his bed warm and nursing his children.

And because of this quick timeline of your relationship, Kyojuro is actually quite quick to propose living together. Of course, it’s a bit taboo to be living under the same roof before you’re wed, but he’s willing to bend the traditional rules a bit if you put up any sort of opposition.

If you decline his blatant requests to live with him, he won’t relent. Initially, he’ll bluntly ask you in the middle of a shared meal if you’d like to move your belongings into the Rengoku mansion - I can have a few servants come to assist in the moving process, if you’d like, and of course I’ll be there to help carry anything heavy!

When you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, he’ll be a little confused, and curiously asks you why you seem to be shocked.

When you honestly respond, at a loss as to why he’s asking you to live with him when you’re very, very firmly just friends, Kyojuro will only laugh in response, his hand coming down to slap his knee because oh, you’re so funny, you sweet, coy little thing.

He’ll drop the subject that day, moving on to ask you about your thoughts about the weather or your favorite color or anything at all, greedy to hear your voice and bask in your attention.

But the next day, when he suddenly pops out of nowhere and accompanies you on your walk into town to buy a few necessities, the question is prompted once more.

I only have two separate futons, but I’m sure we could push them together! Similarly, I only have two blankets, but I’m sure my body heat will keep you warm!

You’ll be confused, giving yourself just a hair more distance between your bodies (he’d gotten very close without you noticing), throwing him a glance and worryingly asking what are you talking about?

He’s so nonchalant when he answers our sleeping arrangements, of course that it makes you wonder if you’ve missed something, if you’re somehow not in the loop because when the fuck did you agree to sleep in the same room as him, much less in such a position where you could feel his body heat?

You’ll negate his questions and try to change the topic once more, but Kyojuro is relentless - everyday there will be a new question of when you’ll inevitably be living together, and with every day he gets more and more restless to finally have you in his arms as he sleeps, to come home to you after long missions, to relish in the sight of you peacefully reading or crafting in the morning sun, wearing his clothing and smelling like him.

He’s a patient man, yes, but even Kyojuro has his limits - and he finally reaches this limit when one day he can’t seem to find you anywhere.

It’s like you’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth - he’d wanted to spend some time with you (really, he’d just finished his allotted training for the day and had been idly daydreaming about holding your hand the whole time, and was now in desperate need of finding you to intertwine your fingers with his), but your home was empty and none of your neighbors seemed to remember seeing you leave.

Immediately worry is eating away at him, because his sole job as your future lover and husband is to keep tabs on you and protect you, and he’d been too busy focusing on himself and getting stronger to fulfill his duty.

He searches for you in all the common spots he knows you visit, and with each empty location his desperation gets a bit more extreme, his panic slowly engulfing him because where the fuck could you be?

Eventually he’s sprinting around the general area you reside in, running mile after mile as his smile slips away and his entire body grows sweaty, his heart racing and even a few tears threatening to well in his eyes because he can’t stomach the thought that you’ve been hurt somehow, that someone has stolen you, that you’re simply gone.

It’s not until the evening that he eventually stumbles upon you, your pretty kimono stained with a bit of dirt as the bottom hem and your shoulders a bit slumped from the heavy bag slung over them, your limbs aching from the long journey it’d taken to visit a friend a few villages over.

He happens to run by you along the path, and immediately he’s stopping and staring, his chest visibly heaving, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he blinks, pinching himself to make sure this is real, that you’re really standing in front of him, that you haven’t been devoured like he’d been imagining.

But all too soon he’s rushing forward, the wind knocked out of your lungs as he tackles you to the ground, clutching you against his chest as he bombards you with questions, slurred and rushed as he asks if you’re okay, are you hurt? Where were you? Why didn’t you tell me you’d be gone today? Did you speak to anyone? Did anyone touch you? Were you scared without me?

He’s speaking so quickly and loudly into your ear that you can’t even get a response in, his voice slightly uneven and betraying the influx of emotion swimming through his chest. He’ll pull back to gaze at you, thumbs brushing over your cheek, before smiling softly and pressing a soft, long kiss to your forehead, whispering to you that you’ll be safe now, my love, forever.

Then it all goes black, and you wake up dressed in a much too nice kimono, sleeping in an ornate room in a futon you don’t recognize, familiar eyes trained on your form as his seated figure watches you slowly wake up beside him. 

As a captor, Kyojuro is mostly just suffocating.

Because he still heavily believes in the delusions he’s been nursing since the beginning of his infatuation with you, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s done. He doesn’t see his relocation of you as kidnapping, nor does he understand why you seem so unhappy to be with him.

It was inevitable that you’d be sharing the same home and bed, didn’t you know?

Why do you seem so surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his body, spooning you and sighing your name into your ear with just a bit too much reverence?

Why are you flinching away from him when he pulls you close for a kiss, his calloused fingers gently grasping your chin as he whispers between wet, loud kisses that he loves you, that he’s more in love with you than you could possibly imagine, my flame, you are my light in eternal darkness.

He’s sappy and too much and always hovering around you, his presence smothering you in every sense of the word. He’s clingy and needy, always wanting to be watching you and simply observe you, because even though he now spends nearly every hour of every day he has off in your presence, everything you do is still special to him, interesting and wonderful and important, and he has no sense of boundaries.

He will be standing close to you, practically breathing down your neck. He will ask you all sorts of personal questions, ranging from things like your greatest fears and most embarrassing moments to your menstrual cycle and which spots feel best when you’re touching yourself to the thought of him.

(He assumes you must pleasure yourself while thinking of him, because he does, too, religiously, every night, your pretty face and voice and body at the forefront of his thoughts as he paints his fist white over and over and over.)

He doesn’t see any reason why there should be any sort of barriers between the two of you, because you’re soulmates - made for one another, destined to spend your lives together, your fates irrefutably intertwined and brought together by the unyielding, passionate love you possess for one another.

And, unfortunately, this lack of barriers manifests itself in some pretty undesirable ways - you’ll be sharing one singular toothbrush, for example, Kyojuro insisting that it’s romantic and sweet and becoming of a young couple to share everything with one another, even their saliva.

He’s having the two of you share undergarments; they’re all made of soft, smooth cloth, in a variety of neutral colors that he’ll wear for the day, then shuffle up your legs the next day, smiling and licking his lips because the fabric that spent all day pressed up against him is now pressed up against you.

(And, on days where you’re particularly unlucky, sometimes Kyojuro lets his thoughts run a bit wild once he’s wearing them, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines you and subtly ruts against his palm as he waits for nightfall in the small village his next mission is in, the time passing slowly until he’s gasping your name and staining the undergarment with wet warmth, already giddy and excited to have you wear them tomorrow, unwashed.)

He’ll even sometimes share food - and not in a sweet, romantic way, but rather in a raw, connected way; he’ll take a bit of food and chew it, then press his lips against yours and push it into your mouth, encouraging you to chew as well, before eventually kissing you once more and swallowing it all himself, his grin nearly blinding because now he’s eaten both the meal and you, or at least a bit of your spit.

He’s just weird, and while he’s constantly showering you in compliments and spoiling you with anything and everything under the sun, it’ll be hard to adjust to this new, strange lifestyle simply because he doesn’t really allow you time to adjust.

He’s expecting everything to be sunshine and roses from the moment you wake up as a freshly kidnapped darling, his expectations high that you’ll be pliant and willing and happy to learn that you’re finally, finally together.

And while it takes a lot of disobedience from you to snap him out of his rose colored view of you, Kyojuro is doing everything in his power to make sure that your relationship is perfect, that he’s taking good care of you and loving you as he should.

Which leads to another important aspect of being his darling - he doesn’t see women is inferior in any way (Shinobu and Mitsuri alone have dispelled that image), but he likes the idea of you being his housewife, fulfilling traditionally feminine duties.

He likes the idea of you taking care of the home, making sure dinner is cooked and served for him in the evening (he’ll often send a crow your way when he’s heading home after missions, just so that you can prepare for his arrival - normally, this means a meal and very little clothing adorning your frame, so that he can feast on your delicious food and then your delicious body), and attending to his every need as he does you.

He likes the idea of you keeping the mansion clean and eagerly awaiting his return home when he’s away, your devotion to him keeping you motivated to make sure everything is perfectly in order for him.

He’s trying for children very, very early on, his thrusts slow, deep and meaningful as he kisses you and promises that this will finally be the load that takes, because the mere idea of you swollen with his child and needing his help to do things even as simple as sitting down makes him giddy and unbearably excited.

And he doesn’t want just one child - oh no, he wants many, as many as you’re willing to give him.

He wants the perfect family with you, and as your captor, he won’t try to hide this wish. You will be made aware that he wants you to dote on him, that he wants you to spread your legs and conceive his child, that he wants you you you.

(He’s discussing potential names with you within the first week of having kidnapped you, his fingers idly tracing over your stomach as he tells you that the first born must be named Shinjuro, then perhaps we’ll have a daughter, and she can be named Hana! But we must also have some named Takeru, Ucharo, Nakagome, Watabe, and of course Shigeru! And after that, if you have any names in mind, we can surely name the following children them!)

 Kyojuro isn’t necessarily bad, per se, as he does genuinely spoil you and give you all the time and attention and physical affection he can, but you’ll feel weighed down, crushed, drowning in the way he always seems to take and take from you.

But eventually, you will grow dependent on him - how can you not? He’s still so sweet with all the compliments he gives you (a little deranged, perhaps, but the sentiment is there), the reverence in his eyes when he gazes at you, the gentleness and eagerness in his touch when he has his hands on you.

He’s complicated, yes, but life with him will be so very simple - just bend to his whims, and perhaps you’ll even enjoy the way he hugs you so tightly it nearly hurts, or how he limits the number of servants who are allowed to speak with you - he just loves you, and is it so wrong to enjoy being loved?

PUNISHMENTS:

As his darling, you’re somewhat lucky that Kyojuro is as delusional as he is, if only because it keeps him mostly blind to any misbehavior and attitude you can throw at him.

Of course, he has his limits, but in general he’s able to write off any snarky comments of yours or slight attempts to put distance between the two of you as you simply you trying to be funny, barking out a laugh and moving even closer to you, pressing into your space even more, making sure there’s not an inch of space between your bodies.

Or, sometimes, he interprets your very blatant rebellions against him as you simply trying to test his resolve – he thinks you’re trying to force him into showing just how deeply he loves you, as if you’re testing just how strong his feelings for you are.

And while he finds this just the slightest bit offensive (you’re doubting his love for you – his passion for you; can you not tell that his heart beats only for you? Can you not see that alongside his duty to the Corp, you’re the reason he breaths, the reason he wakes up in the morning, the reason he’s alive?), it mostly serves as motivation for him to love you harder, to become more expressive with his feelings.

It pushes him to hug you tighter, his fingers nearly leaving bruises with the strength of his grip around you, the hugs going much longer and getting more intimate, if the brush of something big and hard against your thigh is any indication.

It pushes him to compliment you more, the words falling from his lips with such conviction that it’ll almost make you flustered, if the content wasn’t so unnerving.

(There’s lots of you are so beautiful, my flame, but there’s also a lot of you look so peaceful in your sleep, it makes me want to lock you away forever and keep you mine and deep inhales followed by your scent sets me on fire, my love, you don’t know what you do to me.)

He views most of your rebellions as simply you trying to catch his attention, perhaps being a sign that you feel you’re being neglected by all the missions he must leave you and attend to.

And frankly, Kyojuro doesn’t blame you – he wishes he could give you more attention too, because although he feels his job is wildly fulfilling and the morally correct thing to do, a more selfish part of his heart yearns to spend his days with you in his hands instead of his sword, your body curled up against his while he keeps you warm and tells you how deeply he loves you.

And because of all the different avenues he employs to simply disregard any negative behavior from you, punishments with Kyojuro are extremely rare. It takes quite a bit to push him into reality for even a brief moment, to force him to come face to face with the fact that you aren’t happy and that you don’t love him.

He only has a few triggers that can be powerful enough to force him into this mindset – you harming yourself, and you attempting to escape.

When you injure yourself, it’s difficult to rationalize why you would have done that, but he’s normally able to scold you (with condescending words and tone, that same smile stretched across his lips), telling you to be more careful and let me prepare your bath next time, all burns from hot water must be avoided in the future! But you trying to escape is not so easy to twist into a pleasing fantasy of his.

It’s much harder to understand why you’re ceaselessly trying to break open the windows of the estate, to the point where your knuckles bleed and your elbows bruise. It’s harder to understand why you try to work at the lock keeping the main doors sealed, your poor fingernails splitting and aching from all the tugging and pulling.

He’s not sure why you’re going through so much trouble – surely there must be easier ways to get his attention. Surely there must be less painful and pitiful methods to get him fawning over you and proving his dedication to you – so why aren’t you taking them? Why are you choosing this difficult path, one that makes him apprehensive to leave you alone for more than thirty seconds?

(Not that that’s the only reason he’s hesitant to leave you alone – his clinginess and desire for your physical touch is the bulk majority – but it’s still a major player.)

And when he asks you, with his arms wrapped around your abdomen, your own arms flailing and your legs kicking at anything you can reach, your answer will have him pausing for a moment, an unwelcome feeling of reality washing back over him.

Because I hate being here, I want to go home! Please, let me go home!

His spine goes straight at that, his eyes widening ever so slightly, your punches and kicks to his shoulders and thighs doing nothing to faze him. You want… to go home? But aren’t you already home, by his side?

His grip tightens on you, a sort of displeased hum ringing in your ears. He’s carrying you away from the front doors and down the convoluted hallways of the estate, his grip on you never weakening.

Your words repeat over and over in his head, each replay confusing him more and more. You aren’t happy being here? With him? He bites his lip, bright eyes glancing down at you in his arms, with big tears slipping down your cheeks and your shoulders shaking with poorly concealed sobs.

This doesn’t seem like an attempt at gaining his attention – why would you go through such lengths? In all his time of falling in love with you, he’s never known you to be such a good actor.

Your tears look real, as does the sound of your voice when you whisper his name and weakly pound your fist against his chest, begging him to let me go home, I can’t be here any longer, I can’t stand it!

He sets you down onto the bed of the bedroom he’s brought you into – the bedroom where he forces you to sleep beside him, your nightclothes sticking to your skin with the heat that radiates from his body and the sheer proximity his forced cuddling creates.

He’ll watch as you scramble away from him, curling your knees to your chest and looking up at him with such raw, pained eyes, and for a moment it makes Kyojuro’s heart clench, genuine regret rushing through him.

Has he made you this upset? Is he the reason for your anguish? It makes something heavy and uncomfortable settle into his chest, and it’s that driving force that pushes him to come closer to you, matching your every scoot away from him with a step towards you.

Eventually your back hits the wall and he kneels before you, his face mere inches from your own.

Tell me, my flame, why are you so displeased?

 His question makes you gulp, but before you can stop yourself your mouth is already moving, every repressed thought and emotion you’ve felt the last few weeks you’ve been stuck with him finally coming to light.

Because you’re a monster! You’ve kidnapped me and forced me into being your wife, and you have the audacity to ask me why I’m upset? I can’t stay with you, Kyojuro, not here, not anywhere! We aren’t in love – you’re mistaken, I don’t love you and whatever this is, it’s not love, so don’t tell me you love me! Please, just let me return to my home and family, I beg of you.

You cut yourself off with a small sob, and as your eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, your blood runs cold when they reopen.

You’ve never seen Kyojuro look like this – gone is that familiar grin of his, instead replaced with a harsh, straight, tight lipped expression. His eyes no longer hold any of the warmth and adoration he normally gazes at you with – rather, they seem unbearably cold, the heavy weight of his stare making you shrink in on yourself despite your rather brave speech. And something about his presence feels much larger than you’ve ever experienced it – it’s in this moment that you realize just how defined and huge the muscles he’s sporting across his upper and lower body are, the man before you holding more strength in his pinky finger than you in all of your body.

It’s crushing, the sick, horrible feeling that something is terribly wrong making your every hair stand on end, your breath ragged as you wait for his next move. Kyojuro nods slowly, his expression not changing.

I see.

You bite your lip, anxiety making a pit form in your stomach.

You need to be reminded of what’s important, my flame. You’ve become misguided – but don’t fret, I will help guide you back to the path. This will hurt, but with time you’ll understand my actions and perhaps even thank me for them.

His words have red flags raising immediately in your mind, but before you can really even process your own questions, his hand is shooting out grasping on of yours, fingers pressing against the pad of your index finger and pushing pushing pushing –

There’s a sickening crunch noise that fills your ears, and everything feels numb for a moment before white-hot, acute agony rushes through you, your finger already swelling and throbbing from the broken bone now within it.

Kyojuro watches as you sob harder, your eyes red and puffy as you look at him, your gaze weak and, quite frankly, pitiful. He only takes a deep breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before moving to the next finger, a matching crunch sound only making you cry harder.

Eventually, each finger on your left hand is broken, his hands already moving to start on your right. He’s quick about each break, not letting the pain linger any longer than absolutely necessary, but it doesn’t matter.

By the time he finishes with your right thumb, you’re nearly numb from the pain, your tears having run dry as you shake and jerk with every hiccup and sob that wracks your frame. The sight hurts Kyojuro, truly – and he’ll tell you as much.

Shh, oh my flame, don’t cry – I know it hurts terribly, but so does my heart. Do you see now? Do you see that I love you? I’m showing you that our love is real and pure – I will nurse you back to your proper health. I will be your hands when you cannot touch, and I will stay at your bedside every free moment to keep you company and ensure a quick recovery. Do you understand now? This is your home – no one can care for you in the way that I can.

His voice is soft, with a certain condescending lilt to it that only makes you dumbly nod, the pain still rendering you numb to your surroundings. And as Kyojuro carefully picks you up once more, moving you to your shared futon and gently tucking you under the covers, he’ll quickly gather some small sticks and medical gauze, wrapping each finger and cooing at you all the while.

And as he places a kiss onto each finger tip once its wrappings are complete, you’ll find yourself considering his words.

The conviction to individually break each finger of your lover is certainly no joke – perhaps he could be correct? Is this love?

Is the way he'll carefully feed you your meals as your wounds heal a sign of his truly undying feelings for you?

Is the way he bathes you (with wandering hands and stuttered breaths) a sign that he does truly care for you?

Is the way he helps you use the restroom without the use of your own hands a sign that he’ll truly stand by your side through darkness and light?

Your brain screams no, every ounce of your independence fighting the stream of questions, but some part of you finds comfort in the notion, in believing Kyojuro when he says that he loves you.

And as the days pass and your injuries slowly heal, your captor’s constant presence by your side helping to keep you clean, healthy and well fed, you’ll find that part of you growing louder and louder, drowning out your mind.

Because really, does it even matter? Kyojuro Rengoku is a man of dedication and unwavering devotion – and if he wants you to love him, isn’t it only a matter of time before he succeeds?

After all, who are you to stand your ground in the face of someone like him?

OVERALL DANGER:

 6/10

Kyojuro isn’t necessarily dangerous, or at least in the sense of being a threat to your life. He’s clingy and needy and out of touch with reality, of course, but he doesn’t enjoy the notion of hurting you. He’s willing to, if it’s his only choice, but you’ll never need to worry that any hidden sadistic tendencies of his will emerge. He’ll never suddenly develop the desire to see you cry, nor will he suddenly discard you should his feelings dissipate.

Once his infatuation begins, Kyojuro is committed to making sure that you stay healthy, happy, and – most importantly – by his side.

He’s convinced that he’s the one that can make you happy, that he can give you the most perfect, loving future, filled with laughter, kisses, stolen touches and even a few children with bright yellow and red hair running around the estate.

He’s convinced that he can make you happy, that he already does make you happy, and it will be extremely difficult to snap him out of this fantasy he’s created for the two of you.

He’s an influential man with extreme importance, and you’d be extremely hard pressed to find anyone who would even believe you if you were to somehow escape him, if you were to somehow catch on to his nefarious intentions before he’s stolen you away.

It’s the combination of being surrounded by death, and a yearning to be happy and build a loving family that pushes him to pursue you, developing a future with you feeling so fucking important that he simply can’t resist the drive to court you, to wed you, to see your gorgeous smile and the pretty golden ring with flames engraved on it around your finger.

He’s simply a man in love, and if that love means his hands on your body, pulling you closer and closer and closer until you can hardly breath, so be it.

It’s only natural for something as powerful as love to create such a strong devotion, and isn’t it oddly romantic, in a way? To know that someone as powerful, important and revered as Kyojuro is in love with little old you?

Doesn’t it make you feel good to know you have the Flame Pillar wrapped around your finger, that he’d get on his knees for you at just the merest flutter of your lashes?

He’s truly in love, so embrace it with open arms – he sure is, and things will be much, much better for you the sooner you accept the love he’s so frantically delivering to you.

[queerbutstillhere]

Addressing the Batman Conspiracy theories, on the Wayne Family true crime podcast.

(this is based off of my post. I just had fun with this, and yes it's very chaotic. I hope it makes sense!)

"Welcome, listeners, to this months episode of the Wayne Family Circus-"

"That is NOT what it is called and you know it!"

"Okay okay! Shut up Tim!"

There was a hard cut in the audio. You, the listener, smile and put your car into reverse, backing out of your parking spot, you had a long drive to get home, and hopefully this new podcast will entertain you.

"As I was saying! Welcome to episode seven of Crime In Our Midst - I still hate that name - today we are discussing our most requested case. The Mysterious Batman. We will be discussing where he came from, and conspiracy theories involving him," the voice said, ending with a hum. "Today, I am your host, and for anyone who doesn't know, I'm Dick Grayson, the eldest Wayne child. To my left is our illustrious father, and number one theory for today, Bruce Wayne."

"Dick, I told you I didn't want-" a new, deeper male voice started.

"Next to him is Jason, the second eldest and the wildcard of the family."

"Sup bi*****," was the voice response.

"Master Jason," an older accented voice inputted.

"Sorry Alfie."

"Then we have Cassandra Cain-Wayne."

"Hello!" A chipper female voice said.

"They can't see you wave, Cass."

"Oh, sorry."

"Tim Drake is also present, as always. Tim have you ever missed an episode?"

"No," a softer male voice said with a hum.

"Even Damian has missed."

"Tt, that is because I have a life, unlike Drake."

"I am literally a CEO-"

"And just then you heard Damian Wayne, our youngest and saltiest member. Say Hi, Damian."

"Salutations," a younger sounding, yet still accented voice said.

"So formal," the host, Dick, said with a laugh. "And always, we are moderated by our Butler and Grandfather, Alfred Pennyworth!"

"Hello, listeners."

"And this week, we are joined by special guest, Barbara Gordon, daughter of Ex-Commissioner, Jim Gordon. He's not here in person, because he said, and I quote, 'This is bs and there's no amount of money you could pay me to be on your weird podcast'. To which I would like to counter, Jim, we most likely could pay that amount of money-"

"Grayson, you're rambling again," Damian said, sounding annoyed.

"Why did Dick get to host this episode?" Jason asked.

"Because it's Bruce didn't want to, so it was my turn next, shut up Jason."

"Come at me!"

There was another hard cut and a few seconds of pause. You chuckled, already enjoying this pointless bickering.

"So. We're going to start at the beginning. Batman, the masked vigilante who guards Gotham and battles crime, appeared way back when in the 2000's. He was considered a criminal for a long time, mostly due to his method of fear and violence, despite that he never killed, and solved countless cold cases - much like we do, if I might add -" Dick started explaining, paper could be heard rustling.

"Yeah but we don't dress up in spandex and go out every night and punch people, Dick."

"Okay, obviously, Jason."

There was muffled sniggering and then a grunt as someone got hit.

"Boys, calm down and let your brother finish explaining."

"Thank you, Bruce!" Dick exclaimed, there was the beginning of a yell and then another audio cut.

"Batman eventually became a founding member of the Justice League of America, alongside heroes such as Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Green Lantern and the Flash. It was around this time his protege, Robin, joined his side for the first time. Batman would eventually become the hero of our city, stopping criminals such as the Joker, Bane, Harley Quinn, the Riddler, and Poison Ivy, whom we all Stan," Dick's smooth voice continued.

"Dick," Bruce warned.

"Continuing! It is believed that Batman has had five or six different Robin's over the years, including two female ones, though neither were Robin for very long. The Batman has become a international, and even interstellar hero, working with the Green Lantern Corp on many occasions. I don't think I need to go into further detail, as almost everyone knows who the Batman is. Now let's get into theories!"

"Oh, finally," Tim said, followed by a muffled yawn.

"Shush, Drake. Let Grayson finish talking."

"Now most the theories are about Batman's secret identity or where he came from, right? And obviously the number one theory is that Bruce Wayne, our dear daddy here, is Batman."

"Do not ever say those words again," Jason groaned out.

"I most likely will."

"Can we all just agree this theory is absolute bulls***?"

"Damian!"

"I am speaking the truth father. I live with you, I can confidentially say you do not spend your nights running around Gotham unless it is in a sports car with some annoying woman-"

"Master Damian."

"My apologies Alfred."

"Can I give the evidence?!" Dick exclaimed.

There was mocking noises, and yet ANOTHER hard audio cut.

"So the main source of evidence is that Bruce Wayne and Batman have never been seen together. Which isn't true, because I have seen, and there is photographic evidence of such, which of course, you can find on our website!"

"The second evidence is something about them having the same a**, which I would rather not go into because of obvious reasons. Third, is all of us kids, somebody on Reddit mapped out all of our arrivals with in a years time of the Robin's arrival, and they think that we are the Robin's."

"Implausible. Have you seen Drake? He couldn't be a Robin, he'd snap right in half. And the second Robin died in an explosions, wouldn't that be Jason?" Damian countered.

"There actually was a kid Bruce fostered for a bit named Jason that actually died in an accident," Dick explained. "People think that Jason is the Robin."

"So we're not going to discuss the fact that you had another kid named Jason?"

"Jason, we've already discussed this a million times, I did not bring you into the family because of your name-"

"Can I continue?!"

"Please," A female voice piped in, Cass.

"Okay, the rest of the evidence is just kinda, fishy, I guess? Someone reports having heard Bruce actively state he was Batman as an excuse to not be on a jury duty, but let's be honest, who hasn't? Lastly is that Bruce Wayne disappears a lot around the time big things are happening, which is quote 'awfully coincidentally.' but circumstantial. An example of this is about five years back, Batman and Bruce Wayne both disappeared for a week, and then when Batman came back, he was reportedly 'different, more cheerful, and more charming. Less threatening', while Bruce Wayne remainder missing. Nearly a year later, Bruce Wayne returned, and Batman once again became gruff and intimidating. Shall we discuss this theory?"

"I don't see what we need to discuss," Damian grumbled.

"It's really not good evidence, but it is a good theory," Tim chipped in.

Jason spoke next. "I haven't been here for long, so it seems plausible to me."

"Jason!"

"What?!"

More bickering. Audio cut. This is getting a little weird with all the audio cuts.

"I think we can all agree that Bruce is not Batman," Cass said finally.

"Dad thinks the Bruce Wayne theory is dumb, and he's been working with Batman since year two. They're nothing alike. He suspected Bruce for a few years, but started seeing them in the same room and area and finally had to drop the theory," another female voice spoke, sounding bored.

"See? So, not plausible, moving on," Damian said dismissively.

The next theory was about some random middle aged man, the whole team thought this one wasn't terribly plausible either.

The third theory was that Batman was some type of alien, and this caused a lot of loud bickering and arguing.

The final theory was that Batman was a vampire, and all the kids seemed to like this theory, while Bruce was less then amused.

"Okay, Bruce, who do you think the Batman is?" Jason asked the second Dick closed out his presentation.

"I think he's a hero who protects the city and the planet, and had saved my life, and the lives of those closest too me, many times. If he wishes to keep his identity secret, then we should respect that the same way we respect Superman and Wonder Woman."

"Boooooo!" Jason and Tim yelled.

"Come on, Bruce. Really, give us an answer."

"Okay, I can't because I do actually know who it is," Bruce admitted.

"WHAT?" Tim screeched.

"You know who the Batman is and never told us?!" Dick exclaimed.

"Did you really miss his speech just now?" Damian asked with a huff. "He obviously wants to protect The Batman."

"You won't tell us?" Cass asked.

"Nope."

More bickering over this for a moment.

"Okay, how many agree with Vampire theory?" Dick asked.

There was a pause in the audio.

"Okay that's four. Any takers on alien theory? . . . No hands. Smith theory? And that's one. Jason and Damian, do you want to elaborate?"

"I still vote for Bruce Wayne theory," Jason said with a sigh.

"OH MY GOD-"

"OW! BRUCE HE PUNCHED ME!"

"BOYS!"

There was muffled speaking and sounds of hitting.

"Damian?"

"I don't like any of the theories."

"Do you have your own then?"

"Not particularly, but I suppose if I would have to give one. . . I believe the Batman is just some random guy with some behavioral and mental issues, and decided that the best way to combat crime, instead of becoming a police detective, was to put on spandex and Kevlar and a bat mask and theme everything after bats."

Dick chuckled. "Well there you have it folks. We finally tackled the Batman conspiracy, now could you please stop flooding our social medias with requests for it? Take that as you may, but obviously, as Bruce said, even if some of our members may know the identity of the Batman, we will not disclose that information, because it's not ours to give away. It's his choice and his privacy, so do not ask us who he is. We will not tell. Guys, anything to say?"

"I'm tired-"

"Tim you're always tired!"

"Ookaaaay! Anyway, next month is Bruce's turn, since we switched, and as always, we'll be putting up a poll on Twitter to see what case you want us to discuss! Until next time, this is the Wayne family signing off!"

"Goodbye."

"Peace out."

"Farwell."

"Death is inevitable."

"Time is a social construct."

"Children- Thank you for listening!"

"Please free me from this hell-"

"And in all the other ways to say it, Goodbye, and Goodnight!"

And you, dear listener, were left to listen to dead silence for a few minutes until you reached your destination, thoroughly confused, and mildly unsettled.

[closemyeyesforgood]

It started when I was just a kid. Our father was always on a war path of beratement, with my mom, brothers, and me. He never hit me directly, but he would grab and smack me, hold me up by the collar of my shirt. Scream at me nose to nose. and I got it the mildest. Everyone else would get hit, unless they obeyed.

I was told every day that I was worthless, useless, pathetic etc. By everyone but my mom, one aunt,  and my grandmother. These were the only people I trusted.

My best friend from age 0 to 11 was...arguably my only friend. Already feeling unworthy of love, I did anything she asked. She eventually went power hungry, always manipulating and threatening me to do as she wanted. She would abuse an assault me, as well as say fucked up things to me so I would hate myself. 

She would get me to tell her classified info, tell me she cared, make me feel loved, then just turn around and use the info to manipulate me. A very intelligent 10 yo. This went on and got worse and worse until some horrific and unspeakable things happened. We were always left unsupervised with her brother, and no one would believe anything I said, because she was always the better diplomat. I stopped contact after the things that happened. She still tries to get back in touch.

Right after this, my dad was kicked out as he started hitting me forcefully, and telling me how stupid, and worthless I am incessantly. My mom couldn’t handle it anymore and at the time he was having an affair, he moved the woman and her son in with us. They all left at the same time, and i think it was mere days before Stepdad moved in.

Stepdad was never physically abusive, but he was a  teenage party animal trapped in a man’s body. I didn’t sleep, because there was suddenly a non stop drug party at my house every night with people having sex in my hallways. And injecting heroin on my couch. The same men would repeatedly break my door down, sometimes passing out in my bed, on my floor, or getting knocked out by anyone who noticed them trying to get in my room. No nothing happened, but its likely because they were too drunk.

Mom got heavily addicted to the party scene, and I barely saw her, and when I did, she was very very rarely sober. My brothers had both more or less found other places to hang out at this time. I had to start cooking my own rice suppers, and making my own lunches, begging for money, and clothes etc. At the time I didn’t really know how to “cook cook”, but I learned.

Every day, stepdad would tell me how stupid and ugly and useless I was for the next 8 years. Always reassuring me that nothing I say or feel matters to anyone. I retaliated, but it would only make his words sharper, and make my mother resent me more and more. The more I stood up for myself the more horrible he would get.

I start middle school at this time. and made a new friend. Coincidentally the same name as the previous friend. Again, the only friend who would put any effort in, and made me feel like no one else would want to know me. She was incredibly manipulative. More so than my previous friend. She would dig and dig and dig so much that she would even “entrap” me into saying things I didn’t even mean, just to use them against me, or use it as ammunition to gossip about me to other people that I also though were my friends. She tricked me into doing humiliating things, degrading things, illegal things. Things I still have actual scars from

She forced me into several relationships with guys she liked so she could make them cheat on me. She would torment me by manipulating other people to berate and make fun of me publicly, and also  harass me on the phone or via msn, just to see me fall apart, and then “help put me back together”.

Manipulating me and turning everyone I trusted against me. Her manipulations and rumors cased me to be assaulted and betrayed several times, and convinced me I should be happy to take the compliment, because no one else would ever want me.  It took a long time, but eventually, 5 years later I realized her motives were all poisonous, and she was more or less pimping me out. Convincing me i’m ugly and disgusting, and I owe it to these boys to give them attention. Its fucked up what taking advantage of vulnerability can do.

it was around this time I started drinking vodka as often as I could get my hands on it. I had run away from home and was staying with a friend. My boyfriend at the time could get me booze, and his friends all had cars, so I was able to find some escape from all the trash in my life. I was 16 at this time. Eventually I had to accept that begging for money, and doing odd jobs wasn’t enough. I had to go back home and face the mess. At the time mom was on meds for her back, and I started hand feeding her supper, because she was on opiods. Then the hurricane hit and I had to move in with my aunt. 

Within the first few weeks of living there, I was still coming home to see my mom once a week. But, her and my brother just kept stealing my things and my money to buy weed or booze or whatever. I got fed up and called her out on it. To which she slapped me across the face, shoved me out the front door and told me I wasn’t her daughter. I fucked right off and didn’t look back.

My aunt treated me like a dog. I wasn’t allowed to use the hot water, or turn the heat on in my room. I wasn’t allowed to go with them on trips or dinners or anything. I wasn’t allowed to enjoy much at all. Not allowed to go to the mall with my cousin, not allowed to go fishing etc. Despite my dad sending her $1000 a month for me. But at the same time was in charge of 4 other kids, plus 3 more when the cousins were there for a visit. All the while, cooking and cleaning and making lunches, and delegating chores and helping with homework etc. These kids still consider me to be more like an aunt than a cousin or foster sister. 

Each day, the only things my aunt would have to say is that I was not good enough, no one cared about me, i was worthless, and useless, and barely a person to her.  People only pretend to like me because I am pathetic. When people would visit, they would call me cinderella, if that doesn’t say enough She would always talk about how I was a worthless slut who didn’t appreciate her generosity, and would never amount to anything. I would just be an addict like my mom, blah blah blah. This never stopped me from telling her off. But telling her off only made her angrier and more viscious. 

One day, I had come home from visiting with my other aunt and found a van packed full of my stuff. My uncle had just had a heart attack and was recovering in the hospital. She blamed my uncles (who is nothing but pie) heartattack on my insolence and had made the decision to kick me out before I even reconciled with my mother. My mom took me back but she was pretty fucked up about it. My previous boyfriend had also recently left me for a girl he had been seeing, my new boyfriend was a very cruel and distant guy, always telling me how stupid and weak and etc. I was, and I just had my wisdom teeth removed so I was not in a great headspace either. Thankfully it was only a few weeks away from staying with my grandmother for the summer.

By this point, I was “adopted” by another girl, who was also a victim of the previously mentioned girls abuse. Though it turns out she simply learned the tactics for herself. It was a repeat of the previous two friends. She was very clung to me, as I think she became addicted to abusing me. So much that she even followed me to the city when I moved for school. She squatted in my dorm room and refused to leave. 

And again, found my best friend trying to pimp me out so she could get the guys on her radar. Or just to watch me suffer, or berate me for allowing my weak mind to be manipulated. After countless abuse and manipulation, I just snapped out  of it, and wasn’t falling for it anymore. I started to be resistant to her manipulation. Not enough though, again she was still me only real friend in a new world. 

I had told her many secrets and personal things that I hadn't told anyone before, and again, all she did was use it against me, calling it “experience” instead of “trauma” and used me as a pawn because of it. Just like the previous friends I had also trusted.  We ended up moving in together, and lived together for a year until I eventually became a lost cause for her.  She moved out, leaving me with no way to pay rent, and i ended up renting a room to a sleezeball whose cheques always bounced. She too, lied to me constantly, telling sob stories and manipulated me out of thousands of dollars.

Unfortunately you would think this would have opened my eyes, but I was so lost and confused, it only made me blind and unsure. I felt I could no longer trust friends to respect anything about me. I stopped opening up to friends, and assumed boyfriends would be a better bet.

I started seeing someone who I had been friends with for a few years. I had dated a few guys, but they were all more interested in their ego than anything else. Again always telling me I was nothing, worthless, stupid, gross, ugly, unreachable expectations of respect or consideration etc. This guy though. He was very sweet, always knew the right things to say to make me feel sorry for him, make me trust him, find him non threatening etc.

He became physically and sexually abusive almost immediately after he got me to open up to him about myself. As soon as I told him anything personal, he would use it as a bargaining chip, or as a threat, or would use it to manipulate me into thinking he was being normal. I was trapped with him for a little over a year before I found a weak link and broke free. I am still unable to have showers with an obscured curtain without the risk of a panic attack. 

Not ONE of my friends would listen to me when I tried telling them what he was doing to me. They just told me I misunderstood him, and that he is a sweet guy with his own issues and I just have to be okay with that. “Don’t throw him away and disrespect him like all the others”. Not even telling me to leave if I’m unhappy, but that I owe it to him to try harder to accept him.

He then stalked me for a few years, and still even now, most of my friends don’t want to hear it, they love him, and whatever I say is probably a fabrication to make myself look better than him or whatever it is they tell themselves.

I had finally broken things off right before moving to  new place. I started seeing another old friend, who was fairly reliable and a lot of fun to be around. We had lots of mutual friends, and his parents took me in a lot in high school. We started to talk, and open up to eachother, and slowly but also quickly, I found out he too was a very troubled guy. It didn’t sink in until it was too late, I knew things were shitty, but he convinced me that moving in together would be the best thing for us. 

He was incredibly controlling right away and I don’t believe one day went by where he didn’t sit me down and berate me into crippling despair. He would not be affectionate even in the slightest with me, other than to humiliate me in front of our friends. After he would have one of his “talks” with me, I would be a ball on the floor sobbing, and he would just leave the room and tell me i was a “stupid worthless bitch”. I was confined to his parents house. If I went out for a walk, or anything of the sort without getting permission first, he would scream at me and berate me. If I got out of bed before him, same thing, if I didn’t make him breakfast perfectly before work, same thing. He was never physical, but he would throw things around, and scream and yell. He is still one of the most intelligent people I have ever met, which basically just means he knew all the right words to rip someone apart. And all the right arguments to make them feel wrong.

Every minute detail I told him about me, became a tool. Every single bit of knowledge became a point of manipulation and control. He didn’t want a girlfriend, He wanted an outlet. He even forced me to go on meds, so I wouldn’t be so emotional about it. SO I wouldn’t retaliate and see what he was doing.

I eventually started seeing what was happening, when i got used to the feeling of my face being swollen, but it took a year and a half of it for me to realize I didn’t deserve what he was doing to me. Unfortunately during this same time I had found a new friend, who I was only kind of open with, but I was on meds at the time, so I may have been more open with her than I realize. She was using 100% of the info I gave her to turn other friends against me, and to eventually alienate me entirely for reasons I couldn’t really figure out. She claimed she was helping me deal with my abusive situation, but she was just using the opportunity to manipulate, and control someone so she could feel superior. 

Her recently exed boyfriend realized what she was doing, and decided to tell me about it. we started talking more and more, and we started an emotional affair. my boyfriend found out about it pretty quickly as he was always reading my e-mails and texts while I was sleeping or out. at that time we were just about to move to another town for him to finish school. We broke up, but he convinced me I needed to make a friendship work with him. Keep in mind, I was living with him in an unfamiliar own yet again. 

I then didn’t sleep for months, as each night he would sit at the foot of my bed and tell me how much of a piece of shit I am, and that I don’t deserve to live. If he kills himself it will 100% be my fault etc. I would go to work exhausted with swollen eyes. He would visit me on lunch breaks to berate me some more. making me cry in public, them making me feel like shit for embarrassing him for crying in public, and being weak and pathetic enough to do so.

During this, I was still talking to the other guy, we were meeting in hotel rooms and whatnot. he was the only person who would listen, or help. Eventually I made my brother move to the town and get a place with me so I could escape. and this guy moved in also.

He was smart, and kind. We opened up to each other quite a bit. I don’t believe any guy has ever been as open with me as he was. I felt comfortable being 100% transparent with him in no time, same on his side. This probably sounds great, but sometimes you forget that fact knowledge isn’t always emotional knowledge. and when you know enough about someone, you think you can rewire them.

Instead of accepting me, and loving me for who I was, he spent the next 5 years trying to groom me and change me to what he wanted. Using every aspect and detail I had opened up to him about to use as leverage. He often told me I was disgusting, or weak and that no one could ever love me like he does. On a daily basis he would tell me no one would ever care about me or my feelings or my life. I was never pretty enough, or well dressed enough, or clean enough, or organized enough. Nothing about me was perfect enough for him. Like previous boyfriends, he spent a lot of hours trying to convince me to just not have friends. He would make me feel like shit for spending time with people, or investing in them, and always try and convince me I don’t need them and shouldn't trust the,.

Always bringing up things from the past  as evidence I should only ever trust him, and depend on him. The worst part about this, was that I always believed him, always. Every word he said, every action he took, every opinion, every resistance. Every time he would discourage me, I always was convinced it was “for my own good”. He seemed to resent me for everything I did, or said, or thought. I was unhappy for most of the relationship, but was convinced no one else would ever love me.

If this wasn’t enough, I was simultaneously being abused and manipulated by my boss. She had successfully convinced me I was worthless, and without any value what so ever. That I always needed to be “taken down a peg” because i was so full of myself. Daily she would plant a seed of doubt, and watch it grow into fruition. As my home support was not helpful, It was not easy for me to see what was going on from either front. She would play me against coworkers so I wouldn’t have an opportunity to see that she was puppeteer all of us. She would set me up with a false sense of security, by being seemingly nurturing, convincing me to open up to her when we would be stuck in a room alone for hours. Then use it against me, telling me I deserve nothing, and she has been so generous, and understanding, how could I have the audacity to question or disrespect her.

When I became pregnant, the beratement, and doubt, and hate and resentment got much worse from both of them. They saw me gaining more confidence, and they were losing control. My pregnancy brain gave me more clarity as it wasn’t about me or them anymore. It was about my baby. I started seeing the relationship was toxic, and that my boss was a fucking horrible person. I started seeing what I wanted for myself and my baby, instead of what everyone else wanted of me.

I had already made the decision to try and work from home after the baby was born, and I was going to try and make things work with my boyfriend, as he had convinced me the problem was my boss, and taking her out of the picture would fix everything.

Then, my baby died, a week after her due date. So I was completely fucked up, I felt like JFK when Jackie tried to put his brains back in. I lost what little support I did have in my life. And the two of them saw it as an opportunity to gain control of me again. For a little while it worked, until I started seeing a Councillor for the loss. My boyfriend continued to insinuate that it was somehow my negligence that killed our baby, and my boss bullied me back to work after 6 weeks.

The abuse and manipulation and beratement became overwhelming, and I started a blog, which my boss read and dissected and would use as reference when trying to berate or manipulate me some more. My boyfriend would just constantly be bitter toward me, and resentful for any reason he could think of. Always telling me I was pathetic and no body wants to hear about my problems and I need to get over it etc.

Then I quit, started a new job, left my boyfriend, and started a new life with the only man who has ever been considerate and kind to me for purposes of love, and not an agenda. First guy to not try and change me for what he wants from me. 

So basically I had a constant stream of abuse and manipulation form every person I trusted until now. Each person I opened up to, used the info for their own gain, and never once used it to consider my personality or feelings. So its really difficult to open up to or trust anyone. I didn’t stop drinking heavily until I got pregnant, I didn't stop drinking all together until my mother passed away, and its still a struggle to not get trashed, but my stomach issues help me stop thankfully.

Alcohol made life bearable, and fun. I was able to enjoy myself and let go of things. Unfortunately it didn't make the thoughts and feelings and memories go away. It repressed them, and when my mother was no longer in my life, all the memories and feelings began flooding back in. So minimum 14 years of me shutting out emotions and memories. This is what caused my "mental breakdown" among some other circumstances.

[bri-chihaya]

Falling For Your Voice

Fandom: The Promised Neverland

Pairing: Norray 

AO3

Summary: Norman Minerva is one of the most recognized singer/songwriters of this generation, captivating thousands with his beautiful voice, detailed lyrics, and charming personality. And Ray is in love with him.

81194 is the most popular author of this age with dozens of best sellers to his name, despite fact that no one knows his true identity or anything about the person behind the numbers. And Norman is in love with him.

They live in different worlds. The two of them ever meeting is impossible—just as impossible as both of them falling in love with just a voice.

Chapter One

If Ray had known Emma was trying to get his attention, he probably would have taken his headphones off and listened to what his adopted sister had to tell him. Or maybe he would have made the music several clicks louder and tried to leave the room. The one thing he knew for certain was that he would not have turned his back on her and give her the perfect opportunity to throw her cup at him.

In her defense, it was an empty plastic cup and he barely felt it hitting the back of his head, but that didn’t mean that the reaction wasn’t a little bit of overkill.

“Earth to Ray!” She was saying. “Is there anyone up there?”

“You know I thought when you turned twenty you’d stop acting like a five year old.” Ray rolled his eyes at her.

“Is that why you base all of your children characters after me?” Emma crossed her arms as she asked this.

“They’re not all based after you,” Ray told her not for the first time. “Just the annoying ones.”

“Hey!” She narrowed his eyes at him.

“What were you trying to say to me?” He asked her.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Just if you’re going to listen to your boyfriend you might as well plug it into the speakers so you don’t kill your eardrums.”

“I’m not killing my eardrums,” Ray argued.

“Yes you are!” Yuugo shouted from the other room. “Just listen to Emma!”

Ray had the childish urge to shout back that Yuugo wasn’t his dad, but that counter argument had stopped being valid five years ago when him and his husband Lucas had legally adopted both Ray and Emma.

“Fine,” Ray relented, unplugging his headphones and tossing his phone to Emma. “Just don’t make fun of me again. It’s not like you don’t listen to them too.”

“I make fun of you ‘cause this band is literally the only thing you listen to,” Emma said flatly.

“I know what I like,” Ray shrugged before sitting next to her on their couch.

She had a point, although he was far too stubborn to recognize that out loud. Ray’s taste in music didn’t really reach farther than Lambda—or, to be more specific their lead singer and songwriter Norman Minerva.

Ray had been sixteen, coincidentally the same age as the artist himself, when he’d first heard one of Norman’s songs. It was before Ray had finished his first book, the one that only a few months later would end up making him enough money to pay off all of his adopted parents debts and ensure that him and Emma would never have to worry about landing jobs. It was back when the only thing keeping him on this earth was the fear that Emma couldn’t take another heartbreak. It was back when he felt pathetic, and alone, and hopeless.

Norman’s voice had made all of that hurt a little bit less. Norman’s lyrics had spoken to Ray in a way that music never had before. They were poetic and far more intricate than anyone gave the then teenage credit for. The melodies of the songs filled Ray’s head with thoughts that weren’t deadly, and dark, and dangerous. In a way, Norman had saved Ray.

And Ray was in love with him.

Maybe it was better to say that Ray was in love with the idea of Norman, he wasn’t delusional enough to think that it was possible to be in love with someone you’ve never met—someone who didn’t even know that you existed. Ray was in love with the voice, and the poetic mind, and the talent that was Norman Minerva.

At some point he’d get over it, he was positive of that. Maybe four years and several best sellers later he was still in the same boat he’d been in back when he first fell for that voice, but eventually it would pass. Ray didn’t mind being in love with Norman for now.

Ray was a writer. He’d been a writer ever since his first foster mom had given him a notebook and a pen and told him that if he didn’t want to talk about his feelings he could try scribbling them down. Writing had brought him the success that seemed to take everyone by surprise when he published his first book not under his name, or even a fake one, but under a string of numbers instead.

After the rather complicated story had commenced he’d added an incredibly cryptic and difficult to decode author’s note, and almost over night what felt like the entire world was demanding to know who 81194 was and what brought these ideas to his head.

This was the first time he’d been told he was talented by anyone other than Emma, Lucas, or Yuugo. It was also the first time he’d been given any sort of attention by people aside from them, and it wasn’t even him that the critics, and fans, and conspiracy theorist were so fixated on.

It was his words and his mind. He used that.

That was how his career started and how he ended up making a small fortune, being able to support the four of them easily. It was nice. Comfort had been something that he and Emma had never had or even dared to want before, and it took a few years for him to fully accept that this new life wasn’t a dream he was about to be wrenched from.

Through all of this, he still listened to Norman’s music. They seemed to both grow in the public’s eyes at the same time—no one aside from Ray and his small circle knowing that the entertainment world was being rewritten by two teenagers. Part of Ray had thought he wouldn’t need the music now that he’d found his place and had the help he needed to chase away the bad thoughts, but he’d been wrong.

Ray started all of this listening to Norman’s voice as he wrote, and somehow that music was the one thing that could soothe the tangles in his mind whenever he felt the pressure of success or fear that he was going to lose his touch.

“This reminds me,” Emma cut through his thoughts. “I know what I’m getting you for your birthday.”

“My birthday was a month ago,” he reminded her dryly. “You got me a pen.”

“It was a really cool pen,” Emma huffed. “But I’m giving you your second present now.”

“Okay,” he raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“They’re doing a meet and greet next week,” Emma gestured to the air which usually meant she was referring to whatever music was playing. “It’s a few city’s away, so I’m driving.”

“No thanks,” Ray stated.

“Oh, come on,” Emma crossed her arms. “I know you want to meet him.”

That was true. Ray did what to meet the person behind the voice that had practically saved his life. But that would make Norman a real person and not just the perfect being Ray’s head had made him into. Real people weren’t perfect, real people were full of tiny flaws that could ruin the beauty they created, and real people didn’t care about Ray.

“And we haven’t done a road trip in a long time,” Emma added. “It’ll be fun.”

“Plus you need to get out of the house more!” This time it was Lucas who called at them from the other room.

“I’m a writer,” Ray yelled back. “I’m supposed to be a shut in.”

“If you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to go, I’ll tell Gilda to cancel the tickets,” Emma informed him.

“You already bought tickets?” Ray asked.

“There’s only a limited amount of VIP ones and I’m not gonna stand in a three hour line,” Emma exclaimed in her defense. “So do you want to go or not?”

That was a hard question. Maybe seeing Norman—the real Norman—would be the kind of closure Ray needed to put this stupid crush behind him. Personally, he didn’t see the harm in being more in love with someone who had no idea he existed than someone he actually knew, but Emma and his parents were starting to nag him about how he avoided genuine relationships.

And maybe that was a bit of a problem. Ray didn’t trust people. He didn’t know how to trust anyone aside from his tiny, broken family, but it was easier to use this pretend version of love to avoid confronting that.

“Okay,” Ray said out loud. “Let’s go.”

“Yes!” Emma pumped her fist in the air. Ray made a big show of rolling his eyes at her.

It was only a week later, when he was throwing a spare change of clothes into a bag and making sure Emma had filled the car with anything they could possible need, that what he’d agreed to really set in. It was as Ray was thinking about how he hadn’t been this nervous about anything for a long time, and how he had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, that he realized this might not have been such a good idea.

So he handled these emotions the way he handled everything. He wrote.

It wasn’t supposed to be a confession, Ray was sure someone as famous as Norman got those everyday. It wasn’t supposed to be something that was ever actually read either. Ray was certain that this man would receive a pile of fan mail at this event alone and knew that his letter would probably just sit in the middle of the stack before it was eventually tossed out.

He didn’t take offense to that. In fact, that was the best situation he could ask for. It would give him a chance to get these feelings out without having to talk to anyone.

So Ray wrote a thank you letter to the voice that had saved him. He came clean about the foolish emotions he had towards said voice, but how he wasn’t stupid enough to think that something would ever come of it.

He put the letter in an envelope and tucked it into his jacket pocket. For now, he’d ignore how poetic it was that the piece of paper seemed to fall over his heart.

“Got everything?” Emma asked when he slid into the passenger seat of her car.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” he reminded her. “There’s not a lot of things to forget.”

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” she beamed at him as she pulled out of the driveway.

He thought about telling her about the letter, but decided against it. She’d probably want to know what he put inside of it, and Ray wasn’t sure he wanted to say any of those words out loud. They were better where they were, sitting in his jacket pocket never to see the light of day again.

—--

Norman was ready to get this over with. It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing his fans--he knew how pompous he’d sound if he said he didn’t--but it was these sort of events that always seemed to drain his energy from him, even though all he was expected to do was sign CDs and pose for selfies.

Still, it never really felt like any of this was about him. Here, fans wanted the chance to see the image he created, but the person sitting next to them with his camera-face on wasn’t the same one they’d see on stage or hear through their earbuds.

That was the real Norman. Interviews and things like this was just a chance to show off the little, small-town boy act everyone seemed to love so much. He often found himself wondering why they did when this wasn’t anything like the person who wrote the songs they listened to.

The line was supposed to open in twenty minutes. They were already all sitting at the table, even though it wasn’t the rest of the band that everyone knew these people were here to see. That was another thing that bothered Norman. Sure, they marketed him as the heartthrob, and he was the face of the band and the writer behind it, but that didn’t mean that the rest of them didn’t work just as hard as he did.

“Haven’t you already read that book?” Hayato’s voice broke through Norman’s focus.

Well, almost all of them.

Norman closed the volume he’d been trying to secretly read under the table and shot Hayato a deadpan expression before his attention shifted to their manager. Wordlessly Vincent held out his had for the book. Norman let out a sigh before handing it over.

“Sorry,” Hayato said sheepishly.

“We talked about putting distractions away,” Vincent chided Norman. He wasn’t really that annoyed, if he was he would have made sure Norman hadn’t brought the book with him in the first place. Still, Norman had agreed that once they reached where the event was being held it was time for his game face to be on.

“I know,” Norman waved him off. “I want it back after.”

“Okay,” Vincent just shook his head, a knowing look on his face.

He was probably the only person Norman actually listened to. That was one of the reasons why he was the band manager. The other reason was that after being taught how cruel the world was at such an early age, none of them had wanted adults with money and agenda to infiltrate their little circle. They could do this on their own, just their little family of kids who’d been denied exactly that.

“Yes, he’s read it before,” Vincent answered Hayato’s question.

“He’s read all of them before,” Barbra spoke up. Her feet were already on the table.

Vincent sent her a warning look but Cislo was the one who guided them off. Norman didn’t bother reminding the two of them that she’d be back to her position of undignified comfort as soon as they were distracted. That was one of the things he really liked about Barbra, she never seemed to care if she was impressing anyone. She was just herself. Norman could never be like that.

“Which is more than any of you have,” Norman crossed his arms.

“I tried to,” Hayato said in a small voice. “I got confused.”

“It’s the writing style,” Vincent commented. “There’s a lot going on.”

“It’s beautiful,” Norman said softly.

“Here he goes again,” Barbra nudged Cislo in the ribs as if Norman talking about his favorite author was some sort of big event.

It shouldn’t be. Norman talked about the mystery behind 81194 often. He talked about the tragic but gorgeous stories each book seemed to take him on. He talked about how if you took the time to piece together the notes at the end of each of them you could find an entirely different story being told. He talked about how complex and intelligent the mind behind it had to be.

And he talked about how he was in love with them.

It was stupid. It was very stupid, especially for someone as smart as Norman. No one knew anything about this person, not their age, or their gender, or where they came from.

But when Norman had stumbled upon this author’s first book he was nearly seventeen and had gone from the entire world tell him he was worthless to it worshipping him. He’d felt alone in all of the praise, because he knew it wasn’t real, and aside from the four people that had become his family, he didn’t trust anyone.

Still, as much as he cared for the others and knew they cared about him, they didn’t think like he did. That was why he was the brains, it was why he was the leader, it was why he felt so incredibly lonely.

Even though nearly all of 81194’s books ended in tragedy. Even though they were dark, and odd, and something many had found difficult to relate to, reading them made Norman feel less alone. This person’s voice made him feel less alone.

Almost three years later, Norman hadn’t exactly opened up much more to people outside of his circle. There were few he considered real friends, and the idea of having a romantic relationship was laughable. Being in love with someone he didn’t know, someone he could never have but could always turn to helped ease the hurt that came with all of that.

“I like the way it’s written,” Norman said out loud. “And a lot of people read books more than once, so I don’t see why I’m being made fun of.”

“We’re not making fun of you,” Cislo told him with a chuckle. “We think it’s cute.”

“That’s demeaning,” Norman said dryly.

“The doors are opening now,” Vincent cut the conversation off.

“Let’s get this over with,” Norman muttered.

He’d been at his favorite part too. It was a short scene where the two main characters were forced to admit that they’d been lying each other for the entire story thus far. It was the turning point of the book and never failed to give Norman chills. He supposed he’d just have to read it back in the hotel room that night.

Slowly, Norman watched the minutes tick by, not once letting anyone see how draining this really was. He wore a bright smile, grasping the hands of the excited people who came here to see him and asking their names. The faces seemed to blur by, but Norman continued to grin and chatter away with them. They came all this way to talk to him, he didn’t want to disappoint them even if the real him—the one whose songs they claimed to love—wasn’t the one laughing and talking to them.

The haze seemed to briefly stop when a boy around his age with black hair and grey eyes approached the table. He didn’t seem half as thrilled to be there as everyone else, and at first Norman thought that he was just the dutiful boyfriend accompanying the girl by his side. Then he noticed that she was the one pushing him forward and not the other way around. She seemed more bubbly, but Norman couldn’t tell if it was the idea of being near famous people of just her personality. Still, her attention was more on the boy than any of them.

“Hi.”

Given the demeanor, Norman almost didn’t expect this guy to meet his eyes, but he did—and with a stare that seemed to see so deeply inside of Norman that he almost looked away. For a second he was thrown off his guard. That usually didn’t happen, especially from just a look.

“Hey,” Norman pressed the smile back on his face. Reaching forward to sign the CD the girl had placed on the table. “Who should I make this out to?”

“Ray,” the boy uttered. “Just Ray.”

“I think I’ll leave out the ‘just,’” Norman replied. He was slipping back into the charismatic pop-star routine. “Your name’s Ray?”

“Yeah,” the boy nodded.

He didn’t exactly seem shy, so maybe he was just awkward. That was normal when meeting a celebrity. Yeah, the more Normal looked at him the more he could tell he was nervous. That was kind of cute. Usually the guys, especially the ones who weren’t teenagers, would go to further lengths of hide things like that.

He was kind of cute. Norman couldn’t tell if it was the way his choppy hair framed his face or those dark eyes, but he was definitely attractive. So was the girl behind him who was currently bouncing from foot to foot and looking at Norman with an interested, but not overly impressed expression.

“Does your girlfriend want something signed?” Norman asked. Deciding he might as well make conversation with the first people that had stuck out to him all day.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” The boy—Ray made an odd face at that.

Norman had a feeling he knew what that face meant, and since he was tired, and really wished he was still reading his book, and wanted to have a little bit of fun, he doodled a little heart next to Ray’s name before sliding the CD back to him. It was only then that he noticed the envelope in Ray’s hands.

“Is that for me?” He asked out of curiosity. It was normal for him to get gifts during these events. He already had a growing pile next to him of cards, and notes, and little baked goods.

“Yeah,” Ray reached forward, as if to drop the envelope in that pile but Norman stopped his hand and took it from him instead.

“Thanks,” he smiled at Ray and then at the girl behind him. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Ray said awkwardly before walking away and giving the next person in line their turn.

Norman tucked the envelope in his pocket.

He only remembered it was there that night when he was back in the comfort and quiet of his hotel room and getting ready to read before bed. The day had been long and the encounter had completely slipped from his mind until that moment. Usually Norman had someone else go through fan mail. If it was particularly interesting or moving they’d show it to him, but he usually found reading praise from these people who claimed to adore him a bit overwhelming.

Still, this letter intrigued him, and he didn’t have much else to do until he fell asleep so he found himself opening it anyway.

Four lines in Norman nearly fell to the floor in shock. He knew this voice.

Slowly, and with his heart hammering in his chest, Norman read the beautifully written thank you note and admission of feelings written by the nameless man he’d spent over three years silently loving.

That boy with the choppy bangs, and the grey eyes, and the completely awkward way of speaking was 81194. The mind behind books that had baffled and moved so many couldn’t be anymore than a year older Norman. The man that held that respect and admiration had come to Norman’s meet and greet—he was one of Norman’s fans. Norman knew his name, and what he looked like, and how his real voice sounded.

And he was in love with Norman.

And Norman had no idea how to find him.

Read More On A03

[migleefulmoments]

@ajw720...I wrote a thing

Oh you misguided little CCer.  Yes, let’s talk about the video from 10/30/15. 

(scroll down to watch the video.)

Ajw says: “Let’s Talk About that Video from October 30, 2015 shall we?  I am really glad I was reminded of this this AM as it truly highlights how much he LOVES Chris. But it is also an excellent comparison to the manner in which he talks about his girlfriend of 10,572 years”.  

The video doesn’t highlight how much Darren LOVES Chris Colfer.  It is a few random comments- stories he has told over and over and over again because Chris hates being talked about and these stories are already been told so they are safe fodder. You read too much into things and ignore what they are actually saying.

“In this segment of 4 minute and 10 seconds (prior to the song) Darren mentions the word(s) Chris or Chris Colfer a total of 8 times (I think the end is quick) as he recounts for what I believe is the 4thtime in a span of about 10 months the story of their first date. A night he remembers in detail. (funny, I have never once heard him talk about his first date with M as the fact remains, no one even knows when they actually started dating and the recent push is that it may have been even before he went to Italy, yet again changing the timeline)”

He won’t share his first date with Mia for several reasons- 1. it’s private and why should he 2. it was a first date, probably not that exciting 3. when would that come up in an interview? People care about the first time two costar spent time together. They don’t care about when Darren met his fiancée.. . and again It’s private.  Why the hell would he share that with us? Nobody SHOULD know the story or the date. That isn’t our business. 

People wanted to hear about Glee especially as it was ending.  They were coworkers in a job that was very significant to Darren’s current status as an entertainer making the story interesting to the audience  Repeating Chris’s name or saying his entire name is inconsequential to anything...it certainly doesn’t mean love.

“And remember, this show was 10 months after the last time he “publicly” saw one Mr. Chris Colfer.  A man he allegedly hates and only “kind of sort of hangs out with.” (sorry Chris but that quote is going to remain one of my favorites)”

The “Man date” story is safe ground to cover because it has been told over and over and over.  Darren likes to deflect from how own talent and talk about other people. He likes to set the stage for how generous Chris was when meeting Darren-a nobody- who was a nobody walking on to the set of a huge show. 

“Interesting. Let’s see. I believe, and correct me if I am wrong, I have heard him utter his lovely lady of many, many moons name publicly 3 times. The first time was in a radio interview right before Elsie 2015 which coincidentally aired about 3 or 4 days after the Alan Cumming version of mandate aired.  The 2nd on her Birthday during a live stream with Paul from Broadway.com. And the 3rd on his snapchat during Cats when he said she was taking over his phone as his battery had died. This is the grand total over the 10,572 years they have been dating. (But willing to bet we hear it again soon after they read this).”

You missed “My Darling MIa....” and also the time he posted in Insta that he is getting married to MIa and that he and Mia opened a bar baby. 

“What did Darren have to say about Chris in 4 minutes and 10 seconds:

The date he started filming he put together that “he would be linked to Chris Colfer’s character.”

“I went to Chris” (and asked him to go see Sutton as his friend “dropped out”) and when he described how his man agreed to go, Darren said “Oh Thank you, I was so touched he wanted to come along.”

We went to see Sutton Foster, me and Chris Colfer.

Darren next describes how he realized, on day 1, when he didn’t even know what would happen between Kurt and Blaine, that if the story took off “Chris and I will never ever go out in public together ever again” so Darren “needed to embrace the opportunity.”  It is AMAZING how Darren was able to foretell that. I mean at the time he was only signed for a limited number of episodes.  There was no actual plan for Kurt and Blaine to date. But Darren, being the fortune teller he was, knew he had to take this opportunity to take Chris on a date as he knew they would never be able to go out in public again.

“I love telling that story about Chris because I like telling how generous he is even though he was years younger than me. He was a big TV star, he like won a Golden Globe and I’m this new guy.”  Ok, so Darren actually does get one fact wrong, but I think its because he is so in awe of Chris’ accomplishments that he forgets that Chris did not in fact have a Golden Globe when they met. That happened a few months later.

“Very cool, I have nothing but good things to say about Chris Colfer.”

Darren messed up, claiming that Chris had a Golden Globe when they met because time had gone by and it didn’t matter that much to him- simple error. Time has a way of doing that. 

He claims he knew he couldn’t hang out with Chris if their characters dated- that isn't something he knew at the time but something that makes the story juicer. It gives context to the fact that they don’t hang out at all because the fans made it hard.  It’s just amping up the story. 

“And then, when Seth next asks him about singing live with Chris, he says (the beginning is quick so perhaps not 100% accurate) “Me and Chris, well Chris hates, hates when you talk about him.  He hates singing live, he hates it, he hates singing live.  Doesn’t like it.”  That is a lot of knowledge about  Chris Colfer that Darren has considering, again, he had not even seen the man in months and that are not even friends.”

I don’t know Chris Colfer and I Know that he hates singing live and that he hates when people talk about him. He has said so many times. You see, while YOU are paying attention to matching details in photos like they both wore plaid suits in 2018 and explaining TrueLoveAlways because they both like Harry Potter and Star Wars...I am listening to what these actually people say-using words- and I respect what they say because that is what grown ups do. 

“Let’s see what has he said about his girl over the entire course of their relationship as opposed to in 4 minutes 10 seconds:

“She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Darren would NEVER criticize fans in a goofy radio interview or a short fun entertainment setting.  He knows his audience and he knows when the time and place is appropriate to talk about horrible fans who attack his fiancée. 

“She is a very lovely lady I have been with for many, many moons.”

It’s private and I am not going to give you specifics about my private life.

“My partner in crime.”

he is endearingly calling the person who he lives his life with his “partner in crime”. He is making the analogy that his “life” is the “crime” here. I don’t know why you can’t understand this simple thing.  It is mind boggling that you won’t let this go as if it means something devious.   

“I’m a ball and chain kind of guy.”

Again he is defecting from speaking about his private life with a reporter. He’s calling himself the ball and chain... aka he’s a one woman man, old morning couple, you don’t care about us, move on to next question.

“She works at Fox” stated almost one year after she left their employ. Yes, they have tried to fix that and have since allowed her on set to fetch coffee and snap about 3 times since Darren made this statement, but she was not employed by Fox when this was stated, as proven by her own LinkedIn account and her going away party many months prior”.

Literally you are going with “proven by her own LinkedIn account” who updates their LinkedIn? We have no idea what special projects she was doing for Fox. What this really means is ajw wasn’t privy to the private life of Mia Swier.  Boohooo. Newsflash:  You can’t find everything on the inter webs.  The fact is-I know that Darren was there and there was NO reason for him to be there so if he says he was there because Mia was working for Fox then I have no reason to doubt that.

Has mentioned her wearing heels on multiple occasions. Ummm…..no, barely ever Darren.

Seriously? OMG the heels comment was a fucking ad.  How stupid can you be- Darren didn’t write that. THAT was a literally written by either the magazine or Darren’s PR team.  She wears heels every time she goes to a red carpet event. Just because the photo doesn’t show her feet doesn't mean she doesn’t have feet....or heels on. You get that right? 

Has stated how he has asked her not to share things on social media. Which she does all the time.

No, she doesn’t put anything on social media anymore. A few pics get posted with her in them...there is NOTHING in those photos that are private. Being in public places and at public events and posting a picture isn’t private life.  I know you want it to be so you can bitch but you sound unhinged when you do.  The truth is we don't know if Darren asked her to post or not to post. we have one story about one photo from Becca’s horrible podcast.  Darren would NEVER share an actual private moment with us. Mia’s IG is private-I know that PISSES you off so much. She rarely posts to Snapchat when they are going out to an event. Clearly Darren is in the picture and knows she is posting.  

I mean, I could go on and on and on. There have been many quotes, most of which have not been very kind. None of which have ever been loving. None of which have ever been gushing. None of which has made him revert back to the High School Darren talking about the person he has an enormous crush on. And none of which have been said while so much love is emoting from his entire persona.  

I am sure you could go on forever and ever. but none of it is important or factual or shocking. At the end of the day and your latest rant, the only thing that matters is that they are living their lives without you and you don’t matter to them. They are engaged and I know this because Darren Told us he was and his behavior has been consistent with a man who is about to get married. Shall we review: they had a bachelorette  weekend and a wedding shower that Darren attended. He has talked about planning a wedding many times. Lea acts like he is engaged. Three is nothing to suggest that he is lying. 

So you tell me. What is the truth here?  I think we all know

Yes we all know the truth: you are a conspiracy theorist who looks for patterns and makes up a ton of shit to fit your trope with no regard to how much you make Darren sound like a complete douche.