#and now for something completely different in essence

[pastelbiohazard]

I was going to wait until a doc was put out to post more about this but seeing as its been threatened since 2022 I'm not sure if it'll ever be out or if it even exists at all.

Firstly, when Jelly was first telling me about this I realized I had an anon ask me if I knew Pepin, I didn't so I didn't answer it. When I showed this to Jelly she showed me an ask she got at about the same time and some fanart she received, both from a blog claiming to be 14.

Jelly had already noticed that the blurred background of that art was definitely the pedophile flag not a blurred sunset.

What also struck me as odd is the age of the user compared to when Jelly was still talking to Pepin regularly, so I went and did some digging to see how old this kid would have had to have been at the time. They would have had to be about 6 at the time, which seems highly suspicious to me. While I was digging I realized that the artstyle is extremely similar to Pepin's (among other things I'll point out down this post). Then shortly after Jelly was sent those Pepin was sent an ask from the same account.

This is the ask that prompted Pepin's post on deviantart. Yes I'm implying that he sent himself this ask. The account was deactivated very shortly afterward.

Now during my digging I had noticed something off about the screenshot of when he told her his age. He said they met in April but didn't give a year, by that screenshot I'm assuming it was in 2016. However with a summer 03 birthday he could not have been 13 in May of 2016. At this point I assume he said that because he was almost 13 but that caused me to scrutinize it further. Pepin says his friendS taught him things, meaning Jelly wasn't the only one who'd have exposed him to nsfw content. I even have evidence that he was exposed to it even before they met.

The first image is almost a year before they met. In case you weren't aware, lemons in this context contain somewhat sexually explicit content. It being a request could mean someone else was trying to expose him at the time which is genuinely disturbing. I know it wasn't Jelly because I had to teach her what it and the citrus scale as a whole meant a few years ago. The second image is the description of some Undertale art that Pepin made for Jelly and some relevant comments I stitched on there. In essence, Pepin dislikes some of the Undertale fandom because he had accidentally seen NSFW content of it including vore. Note that he said on ACCIDENT. Jelly hadn't been the one to normalize his consumption of explicit content.

Now in digging that up I found a post that completely screws up the timeline of events that they presented.

Pepin's fiancé said that he properly met him the day Pepin cut Jelly off. If this post is true and they knew each other a year almost two at that time it happened somewhere in 2018. This means that Jelly could have only been talking to him I'd say about two and a half years, not four. before getting cut off. So it went from when Pepin was 12 (almost 13) to 14 or 15, not the biggest difference but it shows that their timeline was either mistaken or purposely exaggerated.

There's a good amount of evidence that shows that Pepin had a crush on Jelly as far back as late 2016 and evidence that he knew the feelings were not mutual.

It seems to me that Jelly did try to pull back and earlier on than even I'd originally thought based on the vent post on Pepin's deviantart. According to the first screenshot here Pepin had to have formed a crush around December 2016, 8 months after meeting. There was definitely something toxic going on but that actually makes sense to me.

When Jelly and I met in early 2018 we didn't get along AT ALL. She was super cold to me I assume because I had some history with the guy she had her eyes on at the time (her current boyfriend). In fact I wouldn't be surprised if that facebook post about having to hold back loving someone because people would hate her for it was about that. We were at odds with each other for about a year before we started getting along and later became really close. I've seen her grow and change a lot despite having her thoughtless moments still but nothing nearly as bad as back then.

Jelly absolutely should not have been messaging Pepin the way she was, sharing explicit images and audio she found, talking about her sexual escapades, and leaning into dating jokes with someone that young. However, Jelly wasn't the one to normalize it for him nor was she the only one to be sharing that kind of content with him at that time. As soon as she realized how wrong what she was doing was she put a stop to it and tried to keep her distance. She especially tried to leave him alone after he cut her off, having him blocked since. It was only recently that she had unblocked him and it was because she thought it was the right thing to do, so he could see her post.

What was going on was inappropriate but it was not grooming and Jelly is not a pedophile. Things also didn't happen in nearly as long of a timeframe as they said it did, it was only over about 2 and a half years not 4. Yes Pepin was 12 and Jelly 19 but she put a stop to the inappropriate behavior pretty quick all things considered and their contact from that point only lasted to when Pepin was 15 not 16. There's also the possibility that Pepin sent that ask to himself but regardless that whole account is undoubtedly some kind of bait. There's also not a whole lot of dates on any of their screenshots which is what made me dig so deep, I just wanted a clear timeline.

So I have a statement re: starfallbluez/jelly-fish-wishes:

CW: grooming, pedophilia, stalking and harassment

Her and I have known each other for about 6 years. She is one of my closest friends and we've been living together for a little over a year now. She isn't the same person she was when we met and she is DEFINITELY not the same person she was 10 years ago. Was she behaving irresponsibly online at that time, absolutely. However, she was ABSOLUTELY not grooming someone. Grooming and pedophilia mean there would have to be intent to target someone and take advantage of them sexually specifically because they're a minor. There is no evidence of this intent, in fact, she didn't even know the person's age when they first made contact. She treated them like a peer because she assumed they were and didn't think to check, that's not predatory. The messages show me that, after learning the kids age, she tried to make sure they weren't exposed to explicit content. That still wasn't the right move but it isn't exactly nefarious. This does not negate the harm done to a minor being exposed to those kinds of conversations and that kind of content but it also doesn't make Jelly a groomer.

What SHOULD have happened is them both blocking each other and leaving each other the fuck alone and seeking help if accessible. Jelly TRIED to do this, she tried to move on with her life, she couldn't really seek the appropriate help but she left the kid alone and was careful with her interactions with minors from then on. Someone involved kept seeking her and her accounts out and sending messages to those close to her to try to oust her for years. Now as far as I'm concerned, the mistake Jelly made haunts her enough, nobody needs to follow her around online to try to ruin her image over something irresponsible she did as a young adult. Its not heathy for either party, its just really not constructive, and at this point its stalking and harassment. Constantly keeping tabs on her to see if she has changed her name, or is really just trying to use the internet in any capacity, is stalking. You said your piece now block her and her friends and move on because its not good for you to keep this up. Someone should have contacted the appropriate authorities by now if there were that much cause for concern.

There is no proof of this being a CURRENT behavior. She DID take accountability, she accepted the harm she did, she respected the victim's boundaries when cut off, and she changed her behavior so something like that would never happen again. Jelly is not running from anything, she's just moving on with her life. The victim and those around them should be doing that as well. Seeking Jelly out to then relay where she is to the victim does more harm than good already but I can't imagine how harmful it is to them for someone as close as their fiance to be as obsessive about keeping track of her as they are. So just stop, please. Leave Jelly alone, move on with your lives and let her move on with hers. She may have harmed someone by acting irresponsibly when she was younger but she is most definitely NOT a groomer or a pedophile.

[beannoss]

Everything I'm Not

Have 2K words of TwiYor if Pacific Rim happened before the events in SxF canon fic! Flash fic! Rated T.

Yor studied the man standing on the step. So he's the one... He did have something about him. The only person who piloted a Jaeger solo and lived, saving his co-pilot in the process. He looked like someone who could do that. Arms crossed over his chest. An assessing gaze flicking through the little crowd she was a part of. New recruits, carefully selected. Trialling to be his new co-pilot because even though his last one had lived, she couldn't pilot again.

Rumour said that man — Twilight, he went by — shouldn't really be piloting any more himself. It was just that he was the best and they kept losing Jaegers and Twilight kept bringing them home no matter the battle. But the rumours also said that if he ever piloted alone again he wouldn't survive.

Yor shivered. 

As though her movement caught his eye, Twilight glanced her way.

And his eyes slid away again, as though she weren't worthy of his attention. And Yor couldn't really blame him. What was she doing here? Was there a point to any of this?

Before the first Kaiju attacked, before Ostania and Westalis did the unthinkable and reunited (Not unthinkable, the Shopkeeper's voice sounded in her mind. Simply improbable without substantial intervention. And Yor had to concede that giant monsters from the ocean was a substantial intervention…) Before all that, when things were still normal and Yuri...

Yuri...

"Briar!" called Ms Sherwood. "You're first!" She was the one organising the search for Twilight's new co-pilot and had assessed Yor's skills herself. Yor liked Ms Sherwood. She seemed kind and competent, and Yor hadn't felt the weight of her assessment like she did when she first signed up, when some general from the former SSS had smiled like she was telling a joke, explaining her reasons for joining.

Belatedly, Yor stepped lightly to the end of her row and walked through the clear column between the others. As she walked, Twilight watched her. It should feel uncomfortable, the way he was blatantly evaluating her: how she walked, the way she moved her torso, the swing of her arms. But it didn't bother her; it was the same way she would study a potential opponent and would do to him were their positions reversed. When his eyes finally rose to hers, she couldn't help it. She smiled a little.

Then blushed, at the up tick in his eyebrow, the flick of his eyes away.

Still, he stepped down onto the mat, barefoot in his loose trousers, his fitted t-shirt, mirror to hers. Yor untied the boots she'd been issued, feeling awkward tugging off her socks in front of all these people whose attention seemed to suddenly land on her in full.

Ms Sherwood said, "To review, the first to three points wins." An adolescent handed Yor a sparring staff; another was doing the same for Twilight across the mat. "Points are awarded for any tag by the staff only. This is a dialogue and not a fight. To that end, I trust I need not remind either of you that there should be no substantial cause of injury."

Yor swallowed nervously. Ms Sherwood knew Yor's history: but surely she also knew Yor would never kill anyone who didn't deserve it! Twilight hadn't reacted at all though. Maybe it was just a normal reminder?

"I trust you have no questions, Twilight," Ms Sherwood said and he shook his head. She turned to Yor, "And you, Briar?"

"Um." Yor thought for a moment. "You said first to three points, so is the goal to win? There's no option to tie?"

Even watching Ms Sherwood, Yor felt Twilight's attention sharpen on her, her cheeks flooding with heat. Ms Sherwood got the strangest look on her face, almost triumphant, which was very confusing. But Ms Sherwood's voice was just as dispassionate as it always was when she said, "The goal is to see whether you may be compatible in the drift. The three points are one metric, but the particulars are up to the both of you."

Huh?

But there was no way she could make herself ask for more clarification, though she was certain her confusion was all over her face. Twirling her staff to relieve some of her nervous energy, Yor nodded to Ms Sherwood.

"Good," Ms Sherwood said. "If you're ready, step onto the mat into position. You begin when you begin."

Huh?!

Swallowing, Yor stepped forward. Twilight did the same.

Oh, being on the mat was so much better. It was familiar, comfortable, her muscles relaxing, her breath settling into an even flow. Yor indulged in that peace, closing her eyes for just a moment to draw a soothing breath —

The clack of Twilight's staff clashing against hers vibrated down her arm. Opening her eyes she found herself looking into his, his expression unchanged. Her staff pushed back against his, crossed between them, where she had raised hers in defence against his hit.

Yor frowned. "It's rude to begin a spar without saying anything," she told him seriously.

Then dropped to a lunge, thrusting her staff up to tap his hip, his block far too slow.

Sounding amused, he said, "I thought you said it was rude to begin without saying anything." His expression was still impassive when she looked up at him.

Yor blinked. "But you began it,” she pointed out, drawing to her feet and stepping back to reset. "I think that means one point to me?"

"Mm," Twilight agreed, similarly pulling back to his original position. "One-zero to you, for now."

So it was going to be that sort of game, Yor supposed. Well, none of this would lead anywhere, that was certain. It was already clear she couldn't be the type to be good as a co-pilot: Twilight was at odds with her already! But it would be nice to spar with someone again. He wasn't nearly as good as she was, but perhaps she could teach him something before he moved onto the next person. That would mean she accomplished at least a little something here. And, she conceded privately, she certainly hadn't felt this way, heart beating in anticipation, her stomach pleasantly tight, the thrill of something fun, in a very long time.

But if she kept on thinking like that, she might lose her head entirely and so —

"All right," she said, rising to the balls of her feet and drawing her hands behind her. She smiled warmly. A small flutter of happiness in her stomach when, to her surprise, Twilight's lips twitched as though he were about to smile in return. That should count as a point, too, since he seemed to be such a serious person! She didn't think Ms Sherwood would see it that way though. 

Yor tipped her head to one side, invited him, "Let's see what you can do."

He laughed — he laughed! — and it was a very nice laugh, it made her feel like she had won already, and Yor couldn't help a small, “Hehe!” of her own. But she could tell that he was stalling, and she told him so.

"I'm thinking," Twilight corrected, and that was certainly true too. His facial muscles didn’t really move, but there was something about his eyes, the very slight tug down of his brow, even from here. 

Should I close my eyes again? she wondered, then shook her head to herself. No, the first time wasn't a ploy, but he wasn't going to fall for it if she turned it into one. 

Right, the best thing to do would be to stay patient, and watch him, and see if she could work out his tell.

He tried to fake her out — Silly — his eyes moving across the mat as though he were tracing his planned attack. As if she would fall for that! 

His attack when it came was almost disappointingly direct after all that: she indulged him a little out of curiosity, parrying each hit until he made as though to run her through. Yor stepped easily to the side. Ducked his next swipe, danced right, skipped forward, sending her foot into the back of his knees and bringing her staff down to stop a breath from the crown of his head, stirring his hair. 

"Mm," she complained, then gently, "I think you can do better."

"Do you?" Twilight asked, tipping his head back to look up at her from his knees, his staff nudging into her ribs.

"Oh!"

"What was that you asked about a tie?" his tones even, and if Yor hadn't noticed a playful light in his eyes, she would have thought he was entirely unmoved. She did laugh a little again despite herself, and it must have been true: that his staff was in position at the same time as hers, or else surely Ms Sherwood would have said something to correct him.

"It's still two-one," Yor pointed out, though in the spirit of fairness, she added earnestly, "But that was very good!" 

Stepping lightly back, she extended her hand to him to help him up —

Twilight yanked her hand hard: it wasn't enough force to truly unbalance her but the angle he pulled her in meant if she resisted, she may hurt him and Ms Sherwood had been very clear about not injuring one another! Yor allowed herself to follow the momentum through, rolling and arranging herself to connect her staff with his thigh once she rose, but there was a pass of air over her hand still in his and she knew what he would say before he said it.

"Two-two," Twilight said behind her. Then, "Tied.” And after another brief pause, “It was dirty play again though, and you don’t like that. I'm sorry."

Rising from her crouch out of range from him, Yor turned to face him. She tilted her head. "Not sorry enough not to do it again."

"That's true." He took position across from her, a neutral sparring stance. It was a very good stance: his feet planted, hips and shoulders loose. His hold on the staff firm but not rigid. Comfortable. He wasn't as good as she was, that was still true, but he was better than her initial assessment. What had changed? And when?

"Say, Briar," he said thoughtfully, drawing her attention back. Ms Sherwood had called her that but it was somehow very strange for Twilight to refer to her that way. She nearly said so, but then he went on, "You're holding back."

Jolting, caught, Yor swallowed. "Er!"

He didn't respond at first, only held her gaze. Then he raised his staff, and said evenly, "Don't," and launched forward. 

He was quick, quicker than before -- not nearly quick enough to defeat her, but it took her a moment, only because, well, Ms Sherwood had said no injuries! But for all he was faster, he wasn't reckless. This was controlled, and lithe, and calculating. 

Yor tracked each movement and, she could see it: the result of his observing and analysing her fight patterns. Oh, if he were faster, a little bit more skilled, he might match her. 

It had been so long since anyone was skilled enough to track her well enough to even try. Delight bubbled up in her chest.

Is this what it's like when he doesn't hold back?

Well... He had told her not to...

One parry. One dodge. She ducked, pivoted, and lunged. "Three-two," Yor said cheerfully. 

She gave him a moment to rebalance. The precise position of her staff was all that kept him from toppling over after she used it to pull his leg back to a precarious angle for the final hit.

As soon as he extricated himself, she drew back a step. Bowed, as the Shopkeeper had taught her. And opened her mouth to thank him for the chance, to tell him she was glad to have sparred with him, and to see if she could muster the courage to offer to train him, because he was very good, but he could probably be better if he wanted to be, although given his reputation, perhaps he didn't — 

"You were right, Sylvia," Twilight said before Yor could speak. "I don't need to see anyone else."

"Maybe now you'll listen to me from the start," Ms Sherwood said, a little snarky. Then she turned to the others, and said, "Thank you everyone. We're done for today."

Yor blinked. "Huh?" Was I so terrible that they cancelled the whole thing?!

But when she looked at Twilight to apologise, her mouth snapped shut. His expression hadn't changed exactly, except that somehow he seemed... She wasn't sure. But it wasn't bad?

Impressed? But that had to have been wrong. She had just done what she could do, that was all. "I’ll see you in the drift tomorrow, Briar," He didn't smile but his voice sounded smiling when he repeated her words back to her, "Let’s see what you can do."

“Huh?”

"Yes," Ms Sherwood said. "Eight a.m." As Ms Sherwood went on, Twilight held her gaze, then raised his hand in a wave as he turned and walked away, leaving Yor to her confusion and the sudden small group of people surrounding her.

The-the drift — tomorrow?! Her mind would be connected to, to his? Already?!

Yor released her staff when it cracked ominously, silencing everyone around her, and the same adolescent took it from her. 

Ms Sherwood’s eyes followed the staff, then slid back to Yor’s. “What do you need to prepare?”

Yor swallowed. “Um… Some quiet?”

Ms Sherwood nodded briskly. “Let’s go get your suit for the drift,” she said, tones warming. “Then I’ll walk you to your cabin.”

“Thank you,” Yor said sincerely, bowing.

Her suit… Her suit! Oh, she had forgotten in all of that, but she had really liked the idea of the drift. That sharing of consciousness… It seemed like magic. Understanding one another so quickly, intuitively, so long as the drift worked. And perhaps… Well, things were so upside down since the Kaiju attacked, maybe… And that light in his eyes looking at her… maybe… Maybe he wouldn’t find her so strange? And oooh, what would it be like, to know a mind like Twilight’s? 

His laugh sounded in her mind, and a thrill skimmed her skin. Yor wiggled a little as she walked beside Ms Sherwood.

"What is it?" Ms Sherwood asked.

"Oh! Um!" What was the harm, in telling Ms Sherwood the truth? "I suppose I'm just... I'm looking forward to trying the drift."

Ms Sherwood glanced at her, her eyes bright with amusement. "I'm glad to hear it."

Choosing to ignore yet another mystery from Ms Sherwood, Yor only beamed at her and nodded once instead.

Tomorrow!

[lacecap]

song about something you'll never be forgiven for. beepbox link here, and a singalong under the read more :''-)

starting point "…so don't look back" i took your hand and led you astray into the light i fear i might have made a fatal mistake walk in a straight line walk in a straight line i couldn't ask i only hope that sinners are saved but in all honesty, my honor keeps me somewhat afraid walk in a straight line don't dare look behind ♫♫♫ i had a dream we tried to reach the finishing line but in the silence still the time we killed had come back to life walk in a straight line walk in a straight line the signs had merged into a single "end of the world" where every undead thing was damned to sing "esrever ni gnos a" walk in a straight line …tell me that you're fine ♫♫♫ walk in a straight line (walk in a straight line) don't dare look behind (don't dare look behind) tell me that you're fine (something that had died) you're still breathing right? (are you satisfied?) walk between the lines (how to save a life) don't dare look behind (change the ending line) reach the end this time (tell a little lie) bring me back to life… ♫♫♫ if i'd look back and held the hands that led me astray into the light i'd proudly cry "this is my final mistake" walk with me this time walk with me this time i should have asked i know the answer's somewhat cliché but was it worth the price and worth the pain? you're fading away— walk with me this time bring me back to life… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if you'd look--

[kalied0skull]

driving myself insane over the fact i spent 20 minutes in bed when trying to fall back asleep this morning remembering the lyrics to a song so i could add it to a playlist later only to wake up and forget every single word

WHERE'D IT GO

GIVE IT BACK

I KNOW IT WASN'T MY THOUGHT BUT I WANT IT NOW >:(

[monstersholygrail]

Easter in Free Use City is, like most things, completely different than what Easter is like for the rest of the world. When you have an entire city with no children you can afford to change up the holiday games and make them a lot more adult friendly.

Bunny Secretary walks up to you at your desk, a smirk on his lips that hold a million secrets. You’re working like it’s a normal day, only kind of wondering why the entire floor is cleared of your colleagues.

“Hey, sweets, you need to get downstairs for the annual egg hunt.”

At your confused glance, Bunny Secretary’s smirk only grows darker, his cock twitching with uncontainable excitement. Pre leaks in his briefs at your pure naivety. That’ll be gone before long and it’ll all be because of him.

“Confused? Well, darling, every year I get to pick one person to plant this lovely egg vibrator inside of. When I do, the office is alerted and the hunt begins.”

He holds up a brightly covered egg shaped toy, decorated as if it were an actual Easter egg. Realization dawns on you and your legs subtly try and rub together, your body throbbing at the idea of all these big sexy monsters pawing at you, plunging their giant fingers inside of you in attempts to find the egg. Bunny Secretary’s eyes gleam as if reading your mind.

“First one to find the egg gets the prize. And this year that prize… is you,” he purrs, his bunny nose twitching as he inhales deep gulps of your arousal.

With a swift push of your chair, Bunny Secretary has you ass up, leaning against the desk and ready for him. Your core leaking with arousal and making him drool.

His hands run over your body, caressing you with a dark and twisted reverence like he just can’t get enough of you. But it’s not just enough to taste and the urge has him leaning in to get a taste.

The moment your essence drips onto his tongue, Bunny Secretary swears he blacks out. All he can sense is your taste, everything else going dark as he eats you out like a man starved. His tongue reaching far into your depths, swirling the thick muscle inside of you. Fucking you relentlessly with his mouth and getting you ready to take the toy.

He works you with his tongue, higher and higher till your pretty hole flutters around him, desperate to cum. You whine in protest when he pulls back but a moment later and the thick egg is stretching your slick walls as he pops the toy inside of you.

At first nothing happens. You stand on shaky legs and your lips part, about to ask what gives, when Bunny Secretary clicks something on a miniature remote and your body is buzzing to life. Sparks of pleasure shoot from your core and instead of words, you moan like the slut you are as your knees buckle. The shock of it instantly turning you into a gushing mess.

It only takes that last bit of vibration to have you coming at your desk, barely able to stand. Bunny Secretary is right there to keep you upright, bringing you firmly against his chest. Even that has you coming harder till finally the vibrations stop and you slump against him.

“Hmm. I wonder how long it’ll take them to find you when you already look so fucking wrecked,” he rasps, voice hoarse with his own need, and his lips curled in a smug grin.

You briefly wonder what he means as he helps practically carry you downstairs where the office is holding the hunt. It all makes sense as Bunny Secretary opens the door and you’re immediately greeted with what looks to be a war zone.

But no, it’s not a war zone. It’s the biggest damn orgy you’ve ever seen in your life. Everyone from the office railing each other in search of the egg. The egg currently inside you. The reminder has you clenching around it and trying to hold in the lewd moans that beg to spill from your lips.

“Happy Easter,” he sings in your ear, “Now get in there.”

[reblog-house]

Would characters actually react that way or is that just my biases? If I had different, or previous, biases, would I say something different? And... Does it really matter?

[gothcowgrrl]

some of you guys need to realise there is a difference between your consciousness and your brain

your consciousness is you - your awareness, your essence - but your brain is just the physical organ processing experiences in each reality. when you shift, you’re moving your consciousness into a different version of yourself, one with a different brain shaped by different life experiences. that means some things won’t feel exactly the same. your thought patterns, instincts, even personality might be different because they were formed by a different life. maybe a food you dislike here is your favorite there, or a skill you struggle with now comes naturally.

“when i first shift i’m gonna be so freaked out!” well, no. the moment you shift, your consciousness seamlessly integrates into the brain of that reality, making it feel completely natural. It won’t feel like some sudden, jarring experience; it’ll just feel like you’ve always been there, like a natural continuation of your life in that reality.

“i’m gonna be so awkward around my friends at first” nope. there’s nothing to ‘get used to’ because your brain in that reality already knows them. their mannerisms, inside jokes, and history with you will feel completely natural - just like any other day speaking to your friends.

so lets cut out all of the ‘omg i met them and they realised something was off’ or ‘omg i almost had a panic attack when i first shifted i was so shocked’ because that’s just not how it works. there’s no dramatic reveal, no awkward adjustment period. you’re simply there, living as if you always have been.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt. 4 of the clone/reincarnation au. The bats find out Danny can be scary.

[Pt 3 here] [Pt 5 here]

Tim is pissed and terrified. He's frantically trying to find a way out of the current situation without Danny regressing on all his progress.

Danny had been with their family for almost 2 years and had come such a long way from the scared kid he was in the beginning. He's going to therapy and can handle interacting with people in general without help. He still tends to cling to familiar people in new situations, but it doesn't have to be Tim or Cass. He goes to school now as Damian's "under socialized and traumatized twin". The official story is that he was separated from Damian, then abused and denied a proper education because he was the second born as well as a meta. It's a believable story between the batfam and Danny's own behavior. But Danny has gotten so much better!

Sure, Danny still has some major issues and won't admit to having someone else's memories, but he's actively working on the former and the batfam is figuring out how to bring up the later without spooking the kid. Tim's not sure if Danny thinks they believe his flimsy excuses over weird comments or the constellations in his room that don't exist or not, but no one wants to push him. It's obvious he had a family that is all now dead, and he was experimented on until he died in the 90s or early 2000s, before he was somehow reincarnated or something into a clone's body. The running theory is that Lazarus waters were used to prolong his original life before he was tortured to death, and his soul or something got connected to the pit somehow during that time, so when that same pit water was then put in a soulless husk, Danny's essence started changing it to reflect that. It took a year and a half to get a blood sample from Danny without him panicking, but the result? Danny's blood's "plasma" is concentrated Lazarus waters, it's "purer" and thicker than the normal stuff. They had to keep their questions and tests light because the moment they commented on his weird blood, Danny had the largest meltdown he had in months, so currently, most of their theories are theoretical. Kid has a LOT of medical trauma.

But Tim is getting off topic. The reason he's freaking out is because the family got caught as civilians. It was supposed to be a nice day out. Tim, Bruce, Damian, Dick, and Danny were out at the mall. Jason was supposed to meet up with them for lunch since it was just a bonding trip. But they can't have nice things.

The only plus side of this situation is Jason hadn't arrived. And this is a plus, because the kidnappers? Joker and his goons.

It was an awful coincidence, even Joker looked surprised to see he had the Waynes. Dick, Damian, and Bruce do their best to keep the mad man's attention away from Tim and Danny. Danny's trembling form is pressed to Tim's back.

"Why does it have to be clowns? Why does it have to be clowns?" Danny is mumbling hysterically. Tim doesn't think Danny has interacted with any sort of clown while with them. Clowns are hard to come by in Gotham for obvious reasons. Meaning this is a Before trauma.

"Tell a different jok-" Dick is cut off by being hit in the face. He yelps as his nose breaks with an audible crunch and starts cursing up a storm.

Tim blocks out his family's shouting and the Joker's taunting to focus on Danny. The kid completely frozen when Dick yelped.

"Danny?" Tim whispers, only to have a gun pulled on him.

"Got something to say, brat?"

"N-no." Tim is panicking, Danny is no longer pressed into his back.

"Good. Now- What the fuck???" The goon clown's stupid face is drawn into a look of horror as he looks over Tim's shoulder.

Tim chances a look over his shoulder to find a terrifying and massive creature where his sweet little brother is supposed to be. And as Tim studies it's starry void figure, all long limbs, eerie glowing, low hissing, what looks like a crown of ice, and face of beautiful pulsing stars that move with it's expression, he KNOWS this IS his baby brother. He briefly wonders if this is how he looked Before, before remembering the gunmen.

"Shit! Don't shoo-!" Tim isn't fast enough and watches in horror as the clowns fire at Danny. His terror is for nothing though as Danny turns them both intangible til the gunfire stops. Then, his feral void creature of a brother attacks. Mauling every single clown in his sight. And Tim can respect that.

He does desperately need to get out of his binds though. Danny is going to have such a massive relapse in his ability to trust them not to hurt him because of this, and Tim takes his job as Danny's "security person" seriously. He NEEDS to be there when Danny is done taking care of the clowns.

"Re-replacement?" Tim has never been so happy to hear Jason's Red Hood mechanical voice.

"Get me untied NOW" Tim spins and demands. "He's terrified, Jay!"

"What?" Jason is totally bewildered, but complying. "Where's Danny?"

"Mauling clowns." Tim grimaces, really hoping no one dies. Danny would be devastated if he accidentally killed someone in his panic.

"THAT'S Danny???"

"Yes. Now shut up. Untie the others and help them check on everyone. I'm going to make sure our little brother doesn't have a complete breakdown that puts us back to square one." Tim tells him and starts booking it after Danny, following the trail of decimated goons. When he catches up, Danny is slamming Joker into the ground and freezing him there. Tim grabs an abandoned gun and shoots the remaining goons in the kneecaps while edging closer.

Danny says something in a language Tim has only heard when Danny is deliriously tired. Tim chucks the gun as far away from them as he can before stepping closer with his hands raised. He projects as much of his concern and thankfulness and love for Danny into his body as physically capable.

"Danny, we're safe now. You kept us safe, kiddo."

There's another gargle of his unknown language before his form shrinks then with great big flash Danny is back to his tiny fae-like form. Tim shoots forward when Danny begins to sway and wraps his little brother in a hug.

"T'm.." Danny slurs.

"I got you. I got you." Tim mutters. It's a little awkward since Danny is only just shorter than him, but Tim picks Danny up in a princess carry, tucking the kid's face in his shoulder and booking it back to their family.

"Tim?? Danny??" Dick shouts, and Danny flinches, sending Tim into his own feral spiral. He literally bares his teeth when the others get too close, making them all pause. They luckily recognize his tales. He's had a lot of feral episodes in front of them since Danny. "Okay. Okay. We'll stay right here, Timmy."

"I'm taking him home."

"Okay... I'll have Alfred pick us up." Bruce easily accepts.

"We'll deal with the cops, Drake." Damian is eyeing Danny with a heartwarming amount of concern. Too bad Tim is too keyed up to appreciate how cute the little demon is being.

Tim takes off again without a word, bundling Danny into the passenger seat of the car they took to get here. Once he's all buckled in, Tim jumps in the drivers seat and peals out of there. He's glad this car isn't a manual because it means Tim can gently reach over and take Danny's trembling hand. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb.

"You're okay, kiddo, I'll keep you safe." Tim mutters to him. "Even if I have to fight the world. I will keep you safe."

Danny starts crying softly somewhere along the way back to the manor. Tim REALLY wishes Cass wasn't in Hong Kong right now.

"Movie, music, or quiet?" Tim asks, starting the breakdown protocol they set up together. It's basically just give Danny comfort options to focus on and tapping or holding up fingers to indicate his choices. Danny taps Tim's hand twice.

"Snacks or no snacks?" 2 taps

"Water, juice, or tea?" 3 taps

"Alfred's choice or do you have something in mind?" 1 tap

"Am I or you showering first? I want to get the clown cooties off me." This time there's a tiny giggle with the tap.

"Should I stay in the room talking or such I wait outside?" The hand in Tim's grips his hand so hard he's sure he heard his bones creek, but he keeps all signs of pain off his face. A single tap.

They pull into the driveway and find Alfred standing in the doorway. Tim quietly greets him as they climb out of the car.

"I hate to ask, but could you make us some tea before you leave? We'll be in Danny's room once we're both cleaned up."

"Of course, young master. Your father and siblings will be otherwise engaged for a while. I do not have to leave for another 20 minutes at the very least and I shall have it ready in 10."

"You're a lifesaver!" Tim cheers before picking Danny up in another princess carry. Danny simply clings to him and let's him. "Do you want one of my hoodies for tonight?"

There's a nod pressed to his shoulder. While Danny is nearly as tall as Tim, he's significantly thinner and lighter, so he still drowns in Tim's hoody. The kid doesn't want to be a vigilante the way the rest of them are. He rather be the guy in the chair or upgrading the bat tech. He doesn't find the appeal in punching criminals and his bouts of being nonverbal being his excuses when asked about it. Which is valid, but Tim knew there was more to it.

Bruce actually shed happy tears over one of his kids not wanting to fight crime and being safe.

Tim walks them through their routine. It makes Danny relax bit by bit. He's nearly completely calm by the time they're comfortably shut in the small space of Danny's bed, tea sitting on the small shelf that was part of the bunk bed's original frame, Tim's phone is playing soft music from than same shelf, and fairy lights casting the whole inclosed space in a soft light. Tim cuddles this poor kid close, but is careful to not get in the way of his iPad.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Tim whispers.

[I guess I have to now..]

"You don't. Sure, I'd appreciate if you told me, but I love you more than my need for answers." They fall back into silence as Danny thinks about it. Tim refuses to rush him and it rewarded for it.

[You knew there was more going on than a mutation, didn't you?]

"Yes.. You're not always as subtle as you think you are."

[My sister, Jazz, said the same.]

"Older siblings, so long as they're doing their job, are bound to realize something is up." Tim smiles. Committing the new name to memory.

[Yeah...] Danny sniffles a little. [I have memories from a life before I was a clone.]

"I know." Danny whips his head around to stare at Tim with wide eyes. "You let little things slip, and I am nothing if not diligent in knowing my precious people and keeping them safe."

[Stalker] Danny gives him a teasing smile, and Tim playfully pretends to be wounded, before Danny looks serious again and Tim matches the energy. [I lived for about 15 years before the 2 I've been here. I am actually Damian's age, despite how I behave.]

"Trauma does funny things to people. I don't see any reason we couldn't indulge you and make you happy."

[I have several theories about why I regress. One is good ol' trauma, but the other is because my core is only 3 years old.]

"Core?"

[All infinite realm beings and some liminals have a core. It's basically your entire being and all your organs in one. It's the most intimate thing to expose your core to someone. And if you crack a core, that's attempted murder/murder depending on how bad it is.] Danny pauses before adding [The core is your everything and will use ectoplasum to create a physical representation and use powers. The buzzing Jon and Kon heard was my core, it's what gave me powers, and I'm positive it's why I no longer look like Damian.]

"Huh...I thought your soul got tied to the Lazarus Pit or something."

[Not far off. Lazarus Pit is corrupted ectoplasum. But my core was implanted into this body by my mentor.]

"Who?"

[Clockwork. He keeps the time safe. He tried to help me, but he's very busy and the observers mess with him to keep him from noticing something is wrong.] Danny fiddles with his stylus. [He was devastated when he found what was left of me in that lab. They did so many experiments before cutting my human body to shreds til I was just my core. But I'm not a normal ecto entity who can heal from losing their body. Their bodies are just ectoplasum, they can regenerate what they need and reform.]

Tim runs a soothing hand over Danny's arm.

[But I'm an abomination even to ecto entities.]

"How so?"

[The way my core formed was unusual. I was a mostly normal human until I was 14. I was just a stupid kid showing his friends his insane parents' lab. My parents were walking OSHA violations on a good day, and I was just a kid growing in a delicate situation.]

Tim had a sick feeling, knowing this wasn't a good memory.

[One second I was just the town weirdos' completely human kid, the next I had most of the city's power grid electrocuting me to death while a portal to the infinite realm opened on top of me, flooding me with ectoplasum, that revived me. Over and over and over and over again til suddenly I was able to escape, but the damage was done. I was suddenly something called a Halfa. Not truly a human, nor truly an ecto entity. Both and neither.]

"Damn, I'm guessing neither party accepted you."

[Not at first. When "ghosts" started escaping and hurting humans, not always realizing that's what they're doing, I was the only one that could do anything. So I did. I became a vigilante. It didn't go smoothly at first, but eventually I understood them and property damage decreased drastically. Only the script flipped and suddenly there was a government agency and my ghost hating parents hunting all ghosts. Nothing and no one was safe and I had to step up again to keep people who hated me safe.]

"They caught you." It wasn't a question, but Danny nods all the same.

[I got caught. I had less rights than a lab rat. I don't want to think about all that happened there, but they eventually slowly started cutting away my human body. But I'm a halfa. I need a human body and my core was a mere infant. That's when Clockwork finally found me. He apologized over and over to my core while trying to find me a new body that was soulless. He told me he'd find somewhere I'd be safe. And next thing I know I was in this body, in an entirely new dimension, and being told to KILL my template?? I was really relating to Dani (my clone sent to kill me) on the way to that roof. I knew I couldn't kill Damian, I never want to kill anyone, but I was still curious enough to go looking. And you know the rest.]

"I'm sorry about how hard your life has been. You didn't deserve any of that. It's okay to be absolutely wrecked after everything that happened."

[Thanks]

"One last question. What was that form earlier?"

[It's new. I guess I have 3 forms now? There's this one obviously, but I also have one that looks like how I used to look. It has all my scars, but is more powerful. I don't like looking at it. Too much hurt. And now I have the one you saw. It felt like a physical manifestation of my obsession of space and my need to protect. Obsessions can influence how an ecto entity looks. A ghost's obsession is everything to them and can get depressed or violent when denied fulfilling it. Indulging in it heals, sooths, and powers them.]

"Not hard to guess yours." Tim teases before pushing the iPad away and putting Danny's cup of tea in his hands. "Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard for you."

Danny shrugs. They drink their tea is silence for a while before Danny yawns, making Tim yawn.

"Guess this means naptime." Tim puts the cups up before burying them both in Danny's fluffy space themed blankets. They're out in moments.

The next day, and with Danny's permission, Tim explains to the rest of the batfam what Danny told him. They fret over and reassure Danny they aren't scared of him, they're not sending him away, he's staying with them as long as he wants. The whole situation is a big step back in their progress in making Danny feel safe, but they all work through it. And Danny starts to willingly share more of his past and "ghost"ness.

They do have to explain to the police that, yes, Danny has a second scary form, and yes, Tim knows how to shoot a gun, but it was self-defense. There's a security video of it all, so it's all indisputable. Everyone is pissed when the video is leaked despite the Waynes best efforts, so the family gets even more protective of Danny.

Damian goes full guard dog when they return to school. Growling and snapping at anyone who so much as looks at Danny funny.

Tim is just relieved he can honestly tell Danny no one died during the mall incident. Sure, more than a few of the goons are crippled in some way, and the Joker is paralyzed from the neck down, but no one died. Danny still feels bad about it, but that's because he's a genuinely nice person who didn't have to be domesticated into not using excessive force.

[glowettee]

✧ how to reinvent yourself without deleting everything this summer ✧

hey lovelies!! WELCOME TO SUMMER! so i've been obsessing over this idea of reinvention lately... like literally woke up at 3am last night to jot down notes in my phone because my brain wouldn't stop thinking about it?? summer always feels like this dreamy little pocket of time where anything is possible... where you can try on different versions of yourself between iced matcha lattes and sunset walks.

i know we've all been there... that moment when you're scrolling through pinterest at midnight and suddenly you're like "what if i just... became someone else??" (guilty of creating entire secret boards dedicated to my "french girl era" that never actually happened lmao). but the thing is, completely starting over is exhausting?? and honestly kind of impossible unless you're in a witness protection program??

so this post is for my girls who want that reinvention feeling without the whole dramatic disappearing act. because honestly? the you that exists right now is already pretty magical, we're just gonna help her shine in some new ways.

✧ why gentle reinvention just hits different ✧

i had this realization while reorganizing my bookshelf last week (yes, for the third time this month, don't judge me) the most interesting characters aren't the ones who completely transform overnight. they're the ones who slowly evolve, keeping their essence while discovering new facets of themselves.

like, remember in "emma" when she realizes she's been in love with mr. knightley the whole time?? she didn't become a different person, she just finally understood something that was already there. that's the kind of reinvention i'm talking about: the recognition, not rejection, of who you are.

✧ actually magical reinvention tips that feel like character development ✧

digital presence evolution (without the cringe factor)

• create a finsta where you post the aesthetic you're curious about but not ready to commit to (mine started as dark academia but somehow evolved into cottagecore with a side of astrology memes??)

• change your social media bios to describe who you're becoming, not who you've been

• make an email signature that makes you feel like the main character (mine has a tiny moon emoji that literally no one has commented on but makes me happy every time)

• curate a new spotify playlist with songs that feel like your "becoming" soundtrack (tip: add one new song every morning as a little ritual)

• start ending your texts with a new sign-off or emoji (i switched from "x" to "✨" and now my friends get worried if i don't include the sparkle)

• take selfies from a completely different angle than your usual (overhead instead of straight-on changed my LIFE)

tiny identity shifts that nobody notices but YOU

• give a slightly different name at starbucks, not completely different, just a variation that feels like an alter ego (i use "amelia" which is my middle name and it feels like slipping into another dimension for 5 minutes)

• create a secret signature scent combination by layering two perfumes you already own (vanilla + something citrusy has main character energy, trust me)

• change your handwriting slightly, make your y's loopier or dot your i's differently (sounds so minor but feels so intentional)

• develop a subtle personal symbol and incorporate it places only you would notice (i draw tiny stars on the corners of important journal pages)

• start carrying something unexpected in your bag that represents your new era (i have a tiny rose quartz crystal that literally no one knows about)

• choose a "power color" you don't usually wear and incorporate it somewhere small every day (even just as a hair tie or phone background)

space magic that costs zero dollars

• rearrange your room based on the energy you want to create (bed facing the window changed my sleep quality so much??)

• create a tiny altar/intention space somewhere private with objects that represent who you're becoming

• switch up where you do everyday activities (i started doing my skincare routine by the window instead of the bathroom and it feels like a whole spa moment)

• change the scent of your space. different candles, incense, or even just boiling cinnamon sticks on the stove

• put up photos from a completely different phase of your life than what you usually display

• rearrange your books by color or theme instead of author (my shelf organized by "books that made me cry" vs "books that changed my mind" feels so personal)

• sleep on the opposite side of the bed or with your head where your feet usually go (literally changes your dreams, i swear)

style whispers that feel like screams

• start wearing your hair in a completely new way just one day a week (slicked back bun on tuesdays has become apart of my routine)

• change where you wear your everyday jewelry. ankle bracelet instead of wrist, rings on different fingers

• try "dopamine dressing" where you wear something purely because the color makes you happy, not because it "goes" with anything

• experiment with makeup placement rather than buying new products (blush higher on cheekbones or across nose bridge instead of apples of cheeks feels revolutionary)

• wear the "special occasion" clothes on random weekdays

• try to add one unexpected accessory to elevate basic outfits (a silky scarf tied on your bag handle)

• match your nail color to your current emotional goal rather than your outfit (blues for calm, reds for confidence)

routine alchemy that changes everything

• take a completely different route home, even if it's longer

• switch when you shower AND the temperature (night showers ending with 30 seconds of cold water changed my sleep quality)

• read the last page of a book first before starting it (chaotic energy but changes how you perceive the story)

• change where you sit in every familiar setting... different spot on the couch, different chair at the dining table

• set alarms for weird specific times (9:43 instead of 9:45) so you actually notice them

relationship refreshers that feel magical

• respond to texts with voice memos if you usually type (this transformed my friendship with my long-distance bestie)

• ask people completely different questions than usual ("what made you smile today?" instead of "how was your day?")

• suggest a different type of hangout than your usual (art gallery instead of coffee shop, sunrise instead of brunch)

• share something slightly vulnerable if you're usually private (i told my friend about my secret passion for astrology and now we have the best conversations about it)

• write actual handwritten notes to people instead of texting

• create little rituals with friends that feel special

• be the first to suggest plans if you usually wait for others (this tiny shift literally expanded my social circle overnight)

mindset magic that costs nothing

• choose a new word to eliminate from your vocabulary (i stopped saying "sorry" before asking questions)

• pick a new word to deliberately use more (i've been using "delightful" instead of "cool" and it makes ordinary things feel magical)

• create a secret personal holiday that only you celebrate (i have "manuscript monday" where i work on my secret novel for just 20 minutes)

• start a collection of something weird and specific (i collect interesting sugar packets from cafes and it makes every coffee shop visit feel like a treasure hunt + i get to discover new food brands).

i literally started taking a different route to my morning coffee last month and ended up discovering this tiny bookstore that's now my favorite place?? sometimes the smallest detours lead to the biggest discoveries.

the most interesting people aren't completely different versions of themselves every season. they're just constantly evolving.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

p.s. make sure to rest this summer, you're gonna need it <3

[flixpii]

| fem!reader x remmick

word count : 777

A/N : No title because this is just straight smut 😭

MDNI (18+) Warnings ! : Unprotected Sex (p in v), drool, brief mentions of oral (f receiving)

————————————————————————

“Fuck—“ his voice catches in his throat as his cock stutters inside of you. His forehead presses between your breasts, and he breathes you in like you are a divine source—empowering him from the inside out.

Your hands grip his shoulders, and he practically begs for you to bury your nails into his skin—branding—no, punishing him for being so pathetic.

A moan chokes up in his throat, and his cock drags out slowly, just before slamming back in. The old wood of the bed creaks with every jostle of your bodies.

“Baby… baby, say I’m doing good. Please…” his head raises slightly so that his eyes meet yours. Tears well up in the corner of those crimson eyes, and your breath hitches as you feel the familiar feeling of drool dripping onto your breasts.

“You’re,” a gasp shoots through your mouth. “You’re doing good.”

He moans. It’s a loud, filthy thing. Mouth opened, ghosting over your nipple as eyes flutter close. His hips tense up as his thrusts speed up.

Remmick’s eyes fall to your cleavage where he spots the pool of drool.

“Aah… I’m sorry.”

Before you can assure him that it’s fine, his tongue darts out and drags a fine lick up the middle of your breasts, causing your body to tense up in surprise.

His tongue is soft. It was rough earlier. Sucking at your clit as his hands held your thighs open. His claws dug into the soft flesh, and he apologized so softly, that you almost forgot he was eating you like he wanted to devour your very essence.

His hips stuttered once more and his mouth shot up to capture yours. You tasted the drool and the hint of yourself from his earlier endeavors.

“Remmick—!”

“Oh! I know. I know! But, I can’t stop!”

His hands grip your thighs as he pounds mercilessly, his fangs glinting as his mouth opens in curses.

The fast drawls of his cock inside of you forces your legs further apart, giving him more access as he shifts his body in a way that drives him deeper.

Your jaw clenches, and your nails finally dig deep enough to break through his skin.

His head tilts back with a groan at the action, and you swear he sees stars from the absolute dazed sheen over his eyes.

“Oh, baby!”

Remmick’s hands grip the flushed flesh of your thighs tighter, and his hold adjusts slowly, but surely, and you barely have time to process what’s happening until your thighs nearly touch your chest.

A muscle in your back pinches and your mouth splits open with a half-moan—half-groan at the new position.

He pushes your thighs down over you and lifts up so that he locks you in a mating press.

“I-I know I can’t give you my baby, b-but, I can try! I can try!”

His thrusts grow erratic as he hits that spot over and over again, drawing stars out of thin air in front of your eyes.

Your cervix stings at the constant abuse that Remmick’s cock subjects it to.

“F-Fuck!” His voice comes out differently now. Deeper. Singed with something starved—waiting for a chance to strike its prey.

Your head lolls to the side as your breath is stolen from you, again and again. But as soon as your eyes leave Remmick, a growl sounds from his chest.

“No. No. Look at me.” His claws dig into your flesh as his hold tightens. “Look at me as I fill you up.”

The bed creaks out of control as you feel yourself nearing release.

That familiar tightening of your gut, and the clenching of your walls catches his cock in a vice hold.

Drool spills from the side of his mouth as his eyes find yours once more.

“Call out my name! Please, baby.” He pleads as his cock stutters and twitches inside of you.

“Remmick.”

That’s all it takes until he’s a mess.

His mouth hangs open as he moans out your name with the praise of a devoted patron.

Warmth shoots into you, and your walls clench around him, milking him completely.

His hands release your legs, and they fall down as if they are lead.

“Thank you…God’s, thank you..” he breathes you in, and his body lays against yours. Not suffocating, but near.

His cock continues to twitch inside of you as your chest heaves through the aftermath.

“…did I do good?” His words barely reach your ears, but the tone, so needy, so desperate for approval, makes your head shift down to meet his eyes.

You nod, just barely, but enough for Remmick to begin to harden inside of you.

[my-castles-crumbling]

determine - December 20 - jegulus - trans!regulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 471 - request from @anotheronebites-the-dust

When James Potter falls in love, it is with more than the person. Sure, he cares about prank ideas, intelligence, appearance, sense of humor, Quidditch ability. But really, he cares most about something deeper. Perhaps, if he's being sentimental, he could say it is the person's soul. Because he knows that so many things about people can change, but it is the essence of a person that he connects to.

It's probably this that causes him to take so long to realize. He's not stupid or unobservant. It's just that...the parts of Reggie he fell in love with never change.

He recognizes that Reggie has become a bit more anxious. A bit more skittish, and is looking at him with eyes that reflect a bit of hesitation. He sees that now, long hair has slowly been cut shorter and shorter, and outfits have changed a bit. But what does he care? He holds the same person in his arms as night, and that is what matters to him.

He isn't concerned until large, gray eyes look at him with genuine fear, and a wobbling voice says, "I need to tell you something."

And his first reaction is that Reggie is leaving him. Because that's the only explanation. He's never felt good enough for the relationship he's in, so of course, this is it. And he'll be thankful for every moment he was given, surely, but-

"I'm a boy. I'm so sorry, I tried not to be, I tried to stop it, but I am."

He balks a bit at the announcement, not because he's mad or upset, but because it's so...sad. To see his boyfriend so terrified to share this with him.

He choses his next words carefully. "Okay, baby. That's...I'm so glad you decided to tell me. You have no reason to be sorry. How can I support you?"

And he watches as the boy in front of him stares disbelievingly. "You...you're not...I mean...James, you're not gay, are you?"

He wants to laugh, but he knows that's not the best idea. So instead, he tilts Reggie's chin up, so their eyes meet, determined to make the boy in front of him understand. "I love you. I love you whether you're a girl or a boy, or both, or neither, or something completely different. I don't care what label that makes me. I love you, and I want you. So, I'll repeat: How can I support you, love?"

Reggie's chin wobbles, and he looks like he wants to sob. But instead, a watery smile appears on his face. "You can...call me Regulus?" He phrases it like a question.

"Regulus," James repeats, tasting the name in his mouth, grinning. "James and Regulus sounds nice."

It's only then that Regulus throws his arms around James and softly cries there for a long time.

[gyuzgrl]

sixth sense //jww//

anon req- yandere/stalker Wonwoo

summary- when watching you wasn't enough, he'd sneak into your house to get himself off. what happens when Wonwoo realizes he might be able to get something more tonight?

wc- 6k

Wonwoo swore this would be the last time. As his feet carried him further and further, across the street into private property, he promised himself that this was it.

No more.

You see, no matter how hard he tried, Wonwoo just couldn't stop watching you. Where you walked around on campus, the way you spoke to just about everyone so sweetly, how you secretly drifted off in class- he saw it all.

He'd spend hours and hours staring at your face, observing the way your features would morph into all sorts of expressions- so much so he now knows them by heart.

What started as something innocent, however, turned much darker when he realised that you lived in the house opposite his.

Night upon night, Wonwoo would sit by his window, watching, observing as you went about your life, completely unaware.

Your curtains were open- always were.

He knew when you studied, when you slept, when you touched yourself. You were so naive, so innocent, he really just couldn't help himself.

You made it so easy.

And now he's here, inside your house- with an hour to spend and a filthy, filthy imagination.

He's been here a couple of times before. Once when you'd left to go study at the library, another time when Somi and you went out for brunch, last week when your mother and you went shopping.

This time was different, though.

This time, you'd left him a little present on your bed.

As he walks into your room with practiced ease, Wonwoo's breath catches at the sight of pretty pink lingerie and a matching vibrator, laying exposed on your duvet.

'oh you have plans tonight, don't you?'

His thoughts show so clearly on his face- that signature Wonwoo smirk, corners of his lips just barely tilting up, head tipping to one side as his eyes linger over the pink lacey fabric.

Tentatively, he takes hold of the toy, clasping it in his palm, feeling the smooth, shiny plastic against his skin. Wonwoo's thoughts drift to how you'd use it in a few hours, completely unaware that he's been touching it- in turn, indirectly touching you.

'didn't know you liked this kinda stuff,'

'dirty girl'

Your room's mostly clean, usually is, save for the tangle of wires under your desk and a few odd clothes tossed at the foot of your closet. The laundry bin's full; a lid keeps it under control, but fails to hide the silky red fabric of your panties- the ones he saw you take off earlier this morning.

His eyes light up. The vibrator is long forgotten.

Time is of the essence here- there's not a lot of it left- so he grabs the red fabric in a haste and holds it to his face, inhaling deeply to take in your scent.

"fuck-" he groans softly, knees weakening at how goddamn good you smell. There's a hint of that fabric softener you use, clean and floral, but there's also the intoxicating scent of you.

The most intimate part of you.

Wonwoo settles on your duvet, nose still buried into your panties, and his eyes flutter closed as an evil hand snakes it's way into his sweatpants.

His cock jumps at the contact, and he hisses, taking his lower lip in between his teeth. Thoughts of you flood his mind, and he replays the image of you from two nights ago, with your naked body on full display as you lay in this exact spot, touching that pretty cunt of yours.

Slowly, Wonwoo begins to pump himself, squeezing hard around his girth, trying to satiate that red hot pit of desire screaming within.

He takes in a shaky breath, letting you flood his senses, and he feels himself grow in his fist, now moving faster.

Wonwoo thinks of you- of your voice, of your face, of your body. How you'd sound, whimpering, sobbing under him, how your features would settle so perfectly into utter bliss, how your skin; soft to the touch, would jump under his fingertips.

Within minutes, he feels his cock throb. It's hot and heavy in his hand, the tip burns a fiery shade of red as he works himself up to his release pumping faster as he takes you in desperately.

"f-fuck y/n" he chokes out, head falling back into your pillows.

His fist tightens around the width of his dick, trying to mimic what he thinks you'll feel like, and in seconds he tips over the edge. Hot, white ropes stream out of his cock, dribbling out of the tip, and he hunches over quickly to your nightstand to pluck out a tissue or two.

As he cleans himself off, the guilt hits, like it always does.

This is wrong, he knows it is, but he really just can't bring himself to stop. It's as though you've cast a spell on him and now he's become your very own moon- chasing after you, endlessly.

Wonwoo tidies up the bed, fixing your sheets, fluffing up your duvet, and he deposits- albeit reluctantly- your panties back to their assigned spot in the laundry bin.

15 minutes till you come back home.

He heads to your kitchen and discards his soiled tissues into the garbage shoot, destroying all the evidence that he was ever here.

There's still a bit of time left for him, so he looks through your pantry, face falling when he sees the endless sea of instant-meal cartons and ramen packets.

'you really should take better care of yourself,'

Just as he's about to close the cabinet, something catches him eye.

A hand blender- rather, the hand blender you borrowed from him last week. In a sudden burst of genius, Wonwoo comes up with a plan.

It's hasty, definitely reckless, but he has a shot at getting to touch you.

step 1- hide the blender inside the highest shelf of your pantry.

check.

step 2- head back home, shower, put on the cologne you seem you like, change into loose grey sweats and a fitted white wife beater.

check.

step 3- wait till you get home and watch as you settle into bed, ready to play.

check.

step 4- once you begin to work yourself up, almost on the verge of release, that's when he'll strike, ringing your doorbell to ask for his blender.

Wonwoo's heart thuds against his chest as he presses your doorbell. The sound echoes around in his head and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat. Scuffling footsteps draw his attention back to you, and he smirks, imaging what you look like right now; scrambling around to cover yourself up, frustrated that you've been interrupted.

The distinct slap of your house slippers against wooden floors grows louder and louder, in time with Wonwoo's speeding heart, and he feels his mouth go dry.

This is happening.

Creaking your door open, you pop your head out, eyes widening when you see Wonwoo at your doorstep.

"this a bad time?" he asks, tilting his head to the side as his eyes rake over your body, observing the loosely tied robe you've covered up with.

"uh n-no, what's up Won?"

Fuck there was that petname you used all the time. He hated petnames, hated when people called him stuff like that, but with you? God, there was something so cute about it when you said his name like that. Makes him want to push you down and fuck you senseless right here on your doorstep.

"you remember that blender you borrowed? I kinda need it right now," his voice is deep as he speaks, and you notice his apperance.

Tight white vest, baggy grey sweatpants, wet hair- fuck he's your very own wet dream, delivered right to your doorstep. A deep blush spreads across your cheeks and you wonder if he knows what you've been up to.

"y-yeah, come in I've got it around here somewhere," you stutter, stepping back to let him in. Wonwoo steps forward, his long legs closing the distance between your bodies, and you gasp, eyes flicking over to his as he towers over you, barely an inch between your frame and his.

Once again, he let's his eyes skim over you, taking note of the way your cheeks heat up under his stare.

'oh? you like this, don't you?'

There's that smirk again, the knowing twitch of his lips, the condescending look in his eye. He's assured, you're far too desperate to turn him down when he makes his move.

Despite the rambling thoughts inside him, Wonwoo appears composed. He quirks a brow at you, looking almost unimpressed, and you scramble around for words..

"you w- you walk really um, really fast,"

"you don't," he states, bemused, "I really do need that blender, though."

Embarrassed, your skin burns crimson and your lips part, forming an 'o' shape.

"o-oh uh yeah that. it should be in here," you mutter, sauntering your way over to the kitchen with him trailing right behind.

Wonwoo has to physically restrain himself from reaching out to run his palm over the curve of your ass, swaying enticingly as you walk.

'fuck you made this so hard-'

You slip behind the kitchen island, throwing a quick glance his way over your shoulder, before opening up the first cabinet- the one that originally did have Wonwoo's blender.

Clumsy hands, pat around the surface of the shelf in vain, and you turn around, pouting. Wonwoo thinks this is his breaking point (it isn't, but still).

"not here, sorry this might take a while Won"

His heart swells at the petname, and inside he's got fireworks going off. On the outside, however, he remains unmoved.

"yeah take your time, baby, I've got all evening"

You flush.

He called you baby.

Turning to face him, you offer a watery, nervous smile.

"m'sorry Wonnie"

'oh fuck me-'

You turn back around pulling open another cabinet, and then another and another. Moving from the ones at eye level, you kneel down, digging through the shelves under your counter top. The angle makes Wonwoo dizzy.

'you're doing this on purpose, I swear'

On your knees, eyes a little teary from embarrassment, you look up at him, shaking your head. This is the sixth shelf.

"sorry-"

"you're good, here- I'll help you look"

Wonwoo's voice soothes through you, it's low timbre running along your nerves like guitar strings. He steps beside you, eyes scanning over the counter top as you stand up and open your highest cabinet.

You stand on your tip toes, arm fully outstretched, and you begin to search around; this time in the right cabinet. As your fingertips glaze over something that feels like a blender, your eyes light up, and Wonwoo, standing behind you, takes notice.

"think it's here"

The only issue now, is that you can't reach it. It's too high up for you to grasp properly. You stretch as far as you can, straining your body as you try to reach the little plastic device, and before you know what's happening, you feel a presence directly behind you.

Wonwoo.

His chest pushes flush against your back as his arm extends out far beyond yours, and you let out a surprised squeak.

He grins.

The hard muscle of his torso has your mouth watering, only adding to your desperation. Sure, having your orgasm so rudely ripped away is one thing, but to have Jeon Wonwoo of all people, dressed the way he is, pushing up against you, all while you're defenseless and unable to satisfy yourself? Oh this is just pure torture.

"found it" he whispers right above your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it. You shudder.

Wonwoo brings his arm back down, setting the item down on the counter. You turn around, caged between his arms, and your knees go weak at the sight in front of you.

The thick muscles of his arms are on full display, veins jutting out deliciously right beside you. Wonwoo's eyes stay trained on your own, a dark desire, a hunger, running wild in them.

Suddenly, you realise, your little bullet vibrator won't be enough for you tonight.

You gulp noticing the proximity of your bodies, of your faces, and Wonwoo smirks.

"you're all red,"

"s-shut up"

"but you are, I mean look at these" he grins, bringing his fingers up to press your cheeks together. "so fuckin' cute when you blush,"

You're stunned into silence.

"and this-" he motions to your robe, now loose, falling apart at your cleavage, revealing the delicate pink lace of your bra, "who's this for?"

Your eyes almost double in size when you glance down, and you scramble to adjust yourself.

"it's nothing! I was just- I was just um,"

"just what?"

Your brows scrunch up as you bite your lip, suddenly conscious of your surroundings, and you avoid his gaze, opting to look down at the fabric of his vest.

"were you playing with yourself?"

You shake your head furiously, tears welling in your eyes. God, this is embarrassing but for some reason, you find yourself growing hotter, wetter by the second, with your body pressed up against his.

"dirty girl,"

Wonwoo's voice is sultry and low, he's practically purring at you, eyes glazed over with desire. The way he calls you has your cunt clenching down around empty space, and you know you need this. You need him.

"if I was t-touching myself, would you be upset?"

'hook, line, and sinker.'

"oh princess, you were just trynna feel good, of course I won't be upset" he coos, stroking your hair.

"a-and if I say that I was thinking of y-"

"hm?"

"if I say that I was thinking of you, while I was... y'know, would you be mad?"

Oh he wasn't expecting that.

Not one bit.

The stoic, unmoving persona dissipates within seconds and Wonwoo let's out a shaky breath, bringing his face closer to yours, leaving barely an inch of space.

"not at all,"

There's a short pause as you both share understanding glances- a wordless confession.

"this is my mess to fix, isn't it?" he whispers, breath fanning over your face, burning hot against your cheeks.

You nod, desperately, and he leans his forehead against yours.

"and you want me to fix it, baby?"

"please," you whimper, pressing your thighs together helplessly.

Wasting not a second more, rather, unable to wait a second more, Wonwoo pushes his lips to yours, enveloping them in a hungry, needy kiss.

Hot, wet skin greets your mouth, cradling your lower lip as he sucks feverishly at the tender flesh. Wonwoo slides a hand up to your chin, tilting your face up between his thumb and forefinger, and you gasp when he prods his tongue into your mouth.

A pathetic whimper escapes you, and you give in to his body.

"you want this?" he pants, his breath hot, meshing with your own.

"I do- fuck I really do Wonnie"

Your voice is whiny, your eyes gloss over, Wonwoo curses under his breath.

Without warning, he slides his hands under your thighs, and hoists your body up, moving you to sit on the counter. You gasp at how easily he manages to lift you- like you're a fragile little doll, completely at his mercy.

As your thighs spill out from under the robe, they make contact with the cool, hard marble below, and you jump at the sudden sensation.

The fabric of your robe rides up, giving Wonwoo access to the hem of your panties, and his eyes flick down, darkening considerably when he looks at your pink lingerie.

"oh? what's this you're wearing?" There's a smirk in his voice, plain as day. His hands smooth over the front of your thighs, stopping right at the edge of the robe.

"may I?"

His eyes draw back up to yours, and he looks at you, the question genuine in his gaze.

"yes," you breathe, swallowing at the thick lump in your throat.

Eager hands slide up, disappearing momentarily under your robe to feel you first, before pulling the loose fabric apart completely.

Wonwoo slips the silky fabric over your shoulders, letting it pool around your thighs on the counter, and it's as though life presses pause for a while.

He stares at you in awe, in wonder, eyes tracing over every curve, every contour of your body and the lace against it.

"you're so beautiful-" he shudders, unable to stop himself from looking.

"I am?"

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

"what, you didn't know?"

"uh uh," you shake your head, staring up at him through thick lashes, "nobody's called me that before"

There's a pause. You can practically hear the gears twisting and turning in Wonwoo's head, with his brow set in a frown.

'you really didn't know'

'how do I show yo-'

His lips twitch up, revelation written all over his face.

"as much as I'd love to fuck you into this counter, there's something better in store upstairs,"

"u-upstairs? but how do-"

"shh, princess, don't bother your pretty head about silly things, hm?" he cooes, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

In a swift motion, you feel the surface beneath you shift away as Wonwoo lifts you into his arms, hands hooked under the flesh of your ass.

You yelp, eyes wide with panic, but the adoring grin painted on his face calms you down. He walks up the stairs, turning to the right, unlocking your door.

"but how do you kno-"

"patience, pretty- we'll talk when I'm done with you" his voice takes on a darker tone, and you feel your arousal seep through the flimsy lace of your panties. Feeling the tip of his fingers dampen, Wonwoo smirks knowingly.

"someone's eager"

You blush, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Wonwoo's quick to pull you back.

"don't you dare hide from me."

The familiar, plush mattress of your bed greets your thighs as he sets you down gently, eyes practically glued to your face, scanning for discomfort.

"if you wanna stop you're gonna tell me, kay? if you can't use your words, tap twice" he says, bringing your hand to his bicep.

"uhuh" Your eyes are hazy, staring into his, as you marvel at how breathtaking he looks crouched down towards you, watching, observing.

Your hand smoothes over his muscles, dipping into the ridges, feeling how firm and strong he really is. Wonwoo shivers under your touch, revelling in how soft your fingers feel tracing over his skin.

"keep touching me and this is gonna go a lot different than how I planned,"

"oh yeah? what did you have planned?"

"you see that mirror there?" he tips his head to the side, angling it toward the mirror standing opposite your bed,

"I'm gonna make you watch."

Wonwoo crawls his way up the mattress, shifting himself to sit up against the head board. His legs are folded at the knees, spread just enough to fit you in between, and he smirks.

An arm moves to rest on his knee, and he crooks two fingers at you, a dangerous smirk playing at his lips.

"c'mere"

Wordlessly, you obey, moving shyly into his embrace, facing him so innocently, Wonwoo can barely bring himself to tell you that you need to turn around.

You shuffle onto your shins, awaiting his next command, and he sighs.

"so fuckin' eager- god I bet you're soaking"

Bashfully, you nod your head, eyes lowered.

"turn around for me, hm?" he ushers, his voice gentle yet firm, and you comply once again, turning in between his knees.

The sight before you has your face flaming. Right there on the wall sits a painting of you and Wonwoo, exposing your most intimate moments, bringing them to view. Your eyes meet in the mirror, and his own shine knowingly at the blush searing across your cheeks.

"keep your eyes on us, sweetheart" he mumbles into your ear, breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps spreading over your neck and shoulder. "don't you dare look away"

A soft whimper escapes you as Wonwoo's lips attach themselves to the skin just below your ear, kissing so gently it raises the tiny hairs on your neck. Your eyes narrow in on the spot connecting your bodies- his lips, your neck- and you feel yourself grow hotter, needier, just from the sight alone.

Leaving wet, dull red marks as he moves to the side, Wonwoo reaches a sensitive spot just above your collar bone, grinning against your skin when you gasp.

"see how pretty you look right now? all marked up for me- all mine,"

"a-all yours," you breathe, head lopping to the side, giving him better access to your neck.

His hands grasp your shoulders, smoothing down your arms slowly before settling at your stomach, essentially caging you into himself.

The sharp sting of his teeth nipping at your skin, the way he holds you so secure, how his voice- sensual and deep like the ocean- resonates deep inside you; it's simultaneously soothing and exciting.

While one part of you wants to melt into him, let yourself drown in the ebb and flow of his voice, the other part is on fire, raging within you, begging to be quenched.

"can I take this off?" he murmurs into your skin, hands grazing over the hem of your bra.

"please,"

Tantalisingly slow, Wonwoo rakes his nails lightly along the width of your bra, until they find your clasp.

Deftly, he clicks you free, ridding your body of the fitted fabric.

"oh would you just- just look at yourself, christ-"

Feverish hands slide under your arms, cupping your breasts, toying with your nipples, as your eyes remain trained on yourself and on the way he handles you.

Wonwoo kneads the flesh of your breasts, squeezing the supple flesh in his grasp, feeling how you fill up his palm so perfectly.

"Wonnie-" you whimper, watching how he manhandles your body, doing as he pleases with you.

"that's right, baby, Wonnie's right here"

His lips resume their work on your neck, pressing sloppy, heated kisses along your skin, occassionally nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot.

The hardened peaks of your breasts poke out enticingly, and Wonwoo knows it'll be criminal to leave them untouched. He pinches each one between his forefinger and thumb, rolling, tugging, squeezing the dark nubs, giving you a different kind of pleasure.

"oh my god-" you gasp, back arching when he tweaks one of your nipples with more pressure than before.

The motion sends a jolt of light all over your body, and you feel yourself yearning for more.

"didn't know you were such a dirty girl," he mumbles into your skin, "letting me touch you like this- must've needed a cock inside you really fucking bad, yeah?"

"uh uh- wanted you for so long Wonnie, just you"

Your voice is embarrassingly whiny and breathy, but Wonwoo hears you loud and clear. He looks at your reflection, meeting your eyes.

"just me, huh?"

You nod, biting your lip, suddenly embarrassed of your sudden confession-

"I- I like you,"

Wonwoo let's out a quivering breath, hands leaving your chest to pull you into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as he leaves you with a muffled- "I like you too, god I really like you"

He sighs into your skin, relaxing as he doesn't have to hold his cards so close to his chest anymore. His feelings, your feelings, were out in the open. You feel for him the way he feels for you and that's enough.

The moment you share is almost sweet enough to let you forget the ache deep in your cunt.

Almost.

You need him.

"Wonnie,"

"yeah baby?"

"need you to touch me" Your voice is a mere whimper, you sound pathetic, but you can't bring yourself to care.

The corners of his lips turn up into a sly smirk, and you feel it against your skin. Wonwoo lifts his head, eyes finding yours, and you note a dangerous fire dancing behind his gaze.

His ankles hook over your own, trapping your legs under his as he spreads you open, completely at his mercy. You gasp, feeling your limbs move without your command, and Wonwoo mimics you, mocking your naive surprise.

"oh look at how pretty-" he mirrors your gasp, your wide-eyed expression, "all spread out for me, hm?"

For some reason, you can't bring yourself to bite back. Insults and snarky remarks flood your mind, and you chastise him internally, calling him an asshole, a cocky, arrogant idiot; but the sight in front of you brings you back to reality.

You like this- you like being mocked and ridiculed. You like being at his mercy, unable to control your body. The flush on your cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, tells you all you need to know.

Curse him in your head all you want, your body likes this.

Wonwoo let's his hand trail down, snaking past your collarbones, your tummy, just above the hem of your panties. You watch, transfixed, as his touch raises the tiny hairs on your body, creating a path of goosebumps.

A thick lump forms in your throat when he reaches where you need him most, and Wonwoo notices how your eyes are narrowed in on his hand.

"good girl, keep looking at yourself baby-" he breathes into your hair, sending a shudder down your spine.

Your heart swells at his praise, and you look at him, wide-eyed.

"hey," he warns, sliding a finger along your clothed slit before pressing down on your clit, "here. keep your eyes right here- you're gonna watch me fuck you,"

Your hips jerk up, jolting at the sudden stimulation, but his legs force you back down, pushing your body further against him.

Words escape you, your mouth feels dry, and your eyes snap back to the image of your clothed sex. The way his finger toys with your clit, teasing just enough, has you growing so desperate, you're willing to do just about anything to get him to touch you.

"Wonnie p-please," you shudder as his finger presses into you again, "please just- oh," Your voice breaks off into a broken moan when Wonwoo begins to rub firm circles into your clit.

The textured fabric of your lingerie adds an additional layer of stimulation to your nerves, sending sparks flying all over your skin like scattered fireworks.

"please?" he echoes, his tone mocking your own.

His fingers move faster, pushing down on your most sensitive spot, and you can't help but stare shamelessly at how effortlessly he plays with you.

Wonwoo reads the silent language of your body like no other, watching each crease in your forehead, each stutter of your hips to see what you need. Those long, slender fingers flick at you so easily, so deftly, it's as though he knows you better than you know yourself.

Soon enough, your clit throbs under his touch, and he knows you're close.

"oh sweetheart-" he coos, "I haven't even touched you yet-"

Your cunt clenches down at his condescending tone, anticipation building to a shocking crescendo. Just how far is he going to push you?

"m'gonna- fuck m'gonna cum-" you moan, head tipping back. Your legs twitch under his, and your thighs work tirelessly to press together, but in vain.

You're trapped.

"aw baby look," Wonwoo brings his free hand up to clasp your neck, forcibly turning your head straight. "so pretty like this- fuck you're shaking,"

Your eyes flick over your reflection, hazy as ever, and you feel your orgasm coming on. There's something so sexy about watching yourself come undone, watching Wonwoo spread you apart and use you like a little toy.

A wave of pleasure, approaching fast, washes over you as he works you up to your orgasm. The rough texture of your panties has you drooling, and soon enough, you're nerves ache from overstimulation.

"that's it, princess- so good for me,"

Wonwoo pushes the crotch of your panties aside, without warning, and dips two fingers into your cunt, pushing deep inside to collect your essence. Your body jolts in his embrace, thighs tensing with effort to squirm away from him, but again, there's no escaping.

"oh you taste like heaven," he groans, slipping his fingers into his mouth, licking up every drop he collected.

You find yourself entranced by the sight, watching him clean off his fingers, slipping his tongue so deftly between each digit, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like inside you.

Noticing the fascination with which you observe him, Wonwoo shoots you a sly smirk, letting your legs slip free.

'I know what you're thinking,'

"turn around,"

Your body moves on its own, following his voice, and you shift in his arms with your back to the mirror.

"now c'mere," he licks his lips, moving his hands to your waist, pulling you onto his thigh.

Within seconds, his lips are on yours, pressing needy, hungry kisses to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy, in dire need of more.

Air escapes you quicker than water in a broken dam, and you find yourself growing light-headed, pulling away for breath despite Wonwoo's grumbling.

When you draw back for the third time, he's beyond frustrated, groaning as his lips chase yours.

"get back here." he seethes, hands gripping the flesh of your waist, "right. fucking. now"

Your body, unfortunately, is slow to respond.

Wonwoo curses under his breath before flipping you over, arms straining as he lays you down as gently as he can.

You yelp, clutching onto his biceps like your very own safety belt, and your eyes widen at how easily he moves you.

"what are y-"

"can't have you running away," he smirks, tongue running along his lower lip.

Balancing his weight on one arm while bringing your hand to touch the other, Wonwoo repeats himself-

"if you want to stop, tell me. if that isn't possible-"

"tap twice, got it" you interrupt hastily, impatient as ever. He smiles fondly at you, a soft huff of laughter spilling past his lips.

"that's my girl,"

Your nails run over a thick vein jutting out from under his skin, and he swallows thickly, Adam's apple dipping low into his throat.

"you're really fucking distracting, y'know that?" he tuts, grabbing your hand and pinning it up above your head.

Before you can respond, Wonwoo captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips, and exploring the expanse of your mouth fervently as if he's trying to memorize the way you feel, the way you taste.

The hand on your wrist loosens its grip and Wonwoo runs his fingers down the inside of your arm- ghosting a feathery touch over the sensitive skin.

"Won-" you whimper into his mouth, desperate for air, but he doubles down, pushing his lips closer to yours. Your helpless, muffled whines fill his ears and he can't help but grin against your lips.

'you make the prettiest sounds,'

Finally showing mercy, Wonwoo lets you breathe, moving from your lips to your chest, kissing his way down to your soaked panties.

"made a mess of these-" You can practically hear the smirk in his voice and you want nothing more than to smack it off, but you know he's right.

"you'll clean me up though, won't you?"

Silence.

Wonwoo sucks in a deep, composing inhale. His eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches. There's a deep, dark desire, an untameable lust behind the browns of his eyes, one that sends a shiver down your spine.

His fingers hook into your panties, tugging them off firmly, and his jaw clenches at the sight of your bare cunt.

"fuck-"

As if under a spell, Wonwoo finds himself drawn to you, placing his lips to your sex. He sticks a kiss to your slit before running his tongue along your folds and you know you're done for when your legs begin to twitch.

"oh please-" you whimper, hips bucking up into his tongue, and his lips twitch up. He brings his tongue to your hole, prodding it inside you, flicking in and out as his hand splays over your lower belly, thumbing your puffy clit.

Your jaw falls slack, hanging open, and your head lolls over to the side in pure ecstasy.

Wonwoo moves inside you with ease, pressing into every spot you need, rubbing lazy circles into your sensitive nerves. A choked moan claws its way up your throat, flooding the room, and Wonwoo knows he's doing something right.

All those nights studying you, the way you touched yourself, the things you seemed to like- they paid off in the end.

Your breathing grows unsteady and rapid, and he moves faster, pushes deeper into you, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

"f-fu- Wonnie m'gon-" you stutter, breathlessly, and he hums an affirmation, his voice sending waves reverberating through your nerves. The added stimulation of his voice, buzzing through you, is just enough to send you over the edge, and you cum on his tongue, back arching off the bed.

Unable to control the sounds escaping you, you're a whimpering, moaning jumble of nerves.

"that's it, baby-" he soothes, easing his tongue over your cunt, lapping up the remnants of arousal as you shudder uncontrollably. "taste so fuckin' good,"

Wonwoo kisses up your torso, settling on his knees to take his clothes off.

The white tank goes first, revealing his chiseled upper body, and your jaw drops. He looks unreal. The sweatpants are next, leaving him in a pair of fitted black boxers that cling to the width of his thighs and do little to hide his size.

"you're still okay with this?" he asks one last time, fingers halting at his boxers.

Stunned by the view, you nod dumbly, lips still parted in surprise.

"baby- I need wor-"

"yes! yes- yes I'm o-okay with this" you blurt out, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"do you hav-"

"I'm on the pill" The boxers are shucked off.

Oh my God.

The mattress dips under his weight, dimples forming under his knees and elbows as he hovers over you. Wonwoo places a chaste kiss to your forehead, aligning himself with your entrance before easing into you.

"you-you're so big-" you breathe, feeling the wind knocked out of your lungs. "Wonnie- oh my god"

Your eyes widen, brows knitting together as he pushes further and further, until he bottoms out inside you.

"shi-shit that's it- takin' me so good-" he hisses, clenching his teeth.

The girth of his cock has your walls stretching wide, trying desperately to accommodate him, and your eyes roll back. Wonwoo finds himself in a bit of a dilemma, unable to figure out whether to keep his eyes on your face, contorting in undeniable pleasure, or on your cunt being stuffed full by his cock.

With each thrust of his hips, you feel him move further, reaching deeper inside you until his tip nudges your cervix, coaxing out strangled moans on your part. The thick, pulsating vein running along the underside of his cock drags against your walls, and you feel him grow inside you- getting even bigger than before.

"W-onnie-" you mewl, words cut off by sharp gasps every time he slams back into you. "too big oh my g-"

"shh, you're takin' me so good doll, doin' so fucking good for me-" His voice is tainted with effort, each consonant ringing sharp and breathy as his lips ghost over yours.

Every fiber in your body buzzes with electricity, sweat glistens off of you like gold- you're on top of the world right now. The pleasure you feel in this moment is simply unparalleled. Nobody has, or ever will, come close.

Wonwoo's motions pick up speed, as he hooks his arm under your thigh, pulling it over his back- angling himself deeper into you, reaching spots you don't even know exist.

The first thrust with this newfound angle has both of your lips parting, breathing out shaky "oh"s against each other. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head, breathing ragged and fast.

Wonwoo lets out a huff, smirking like he isn't gasping for breath the same way your are-

"that's it- I know you're close baby"

His hand leaves your thigh, rubbing zig-zag patterns into your clit, just enough to steal that orgasm out of you. The calloused pads of his fingers show no mercy, pressing directly on your nerves, and your hole spasms around him. You're certain you can feel your heartbeat where his finger presses, you can feel his too with the way his cock throbs inside you.

"so goddamn tight-" Wonwoo seethes, now feeling his own high approaching. He continues his motions on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves from left to right, until you finally give in with a sob.

"m'cumming oh fuc- oh fuck"

The muscles of your thighs tense momentarily, cunt clenching down hard around his cock, before you let go completely. A warm, prickly relaxation washes over you, and Wonwoo grunts, releasing himself inside you.

His thrusts slow to a halt, and he lets out an airy laugh, in disbelief. He stares down at your disheveled frame- flushed, sweaty skin, blown pupils, hair tangled up around your head.

"you're beautiful," he breathes, unable to hold his tongue, and you giggle, turning away bashfully.

Wonwoo tilts your chin back, pulling you to face him-

"I really like you, y/n,"

You smile, eyes shimmering up at him. "I like you more"

There's a brief pause as you gaze into each other's eyes, before you realise something.

"wait- how'd you know wh-"

"sixth sense" he grins, eyes carrying just a touch of madness. "I know everything."

[sidemari]

Hii ur smut is scrumptious! Can you do size kink/height difference with jinx (you can add more characters if you want) where reader’s significantly smaller

• Feels like falling in love again •

Character: Jinx x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fingering (reader receiving), very mild size difference kink, really soft dom Jinx, Jinx being a sucker for reader, I guess.

Mari's note: Thanks for the compliment and request. I hope you enjoy this text. Feel free to request anything else ♡

She was an intense person.

Especially intense with the ones she loved.

With you, she wasn't any different.

You were her everything.

Her whole world.

Her refuge from the cruelty of life.

And she made sure that was clear in your mind.

Her eyes were glowing with something different that night.

Perhaps it was due to the torturous days she had to wait before finally getting back to you. Perhaps it was just a dark necessity within her.

"Jinx..." You gasped between her kisses, your lips almost numb from the constant sucking of her. Her gaze finally met yours after hearing your voice.

"You're so precious" She sang against your lips, her hand finding yours just so she could intertwine fingers with you. "So tiny and pure... Almost fragile" She chuckled after the last word, squeezing your hand playfully. "Spread your legs for me, love" Her tone was challenging yet reassuring, impossible to be ignored.

Her hands gripped your waist before you could oblige her, easily bringing you to the edge of the bed.

"I think it's so cute when you're this worked up and still..." Her thumb brushed against your bundle of nerves making you whimper and roll your hips, seeking for more friction. "... you manage to look so innocently sweet"

"Please..." You whined, uneasiness and urge growing inside of you.

"Please what, little one?" Her tongue explored your sex, collecting some of your essence before she could swallow it with content. "Use your words and I promise I'll make you feel good"

"Please, make me yours... Claim me, mark me... I need you so badly-" Your reasoning was ruined when you felt two of her fingers stretching you suddenly.

You moaned, hands gripping the bedsheets for some sort of support as you ineffectively tried to control your sounds. Her long fingers explored spots inside of you you could never reach by yourself, so easily bringing you to melt under her.

"Look at you... Struggling to take only two of them?" Her pace was now vicious enough to make your own small body jerk up. "Fuck, you're so perfect"

"Jinx... Too m-much" You gasped, trying to close your legs in reflex, only to feel her other hand grip your thigh - so easily and hard enough to leave marks - forcing you to keep them open.

"I know you can take it..." She said softly. "You always do, my love" Your heart was pounding inside your chest, your body responding to every single stimulus it received.

Your thoughts were confusing, the only thing that seemed real was how your girlfriend was making you feel and the only crystal clear thought inside your head was how undying her love towards you was.

"Cum for me, love" She purred, watching so attentively how impeccable you looked under her. So small, sweet and vulnerable.

Your body obeyed her words, waves of pleasure washing over you repeatedly until they completely faded away, leaving you in bliss, unable to process what happened in the next minutes.

Opening your eyes when you felt her hair tickling your face, you came across the most beautiful features you had ever seen. It felt like falling in love again.

Pulling you for a kiss, she chuckled between the small pecks, lovingly brushing her nose against your own afterwards.

"You're my everything, Tiny." The nickname had you blushing.

"Hey! Ugh, you're impossible"

[carnallysm]

Taking it out on you.

warnings: dom! Emily, sub!fem!reader, gun play, degradation, praise, light mommy kink, lmk if i forgot something!

It wasn't uncommon for Emily to have a bad day—or even bad weeks—due to her profession. Being the Unit Chief of the BAU came with more cons than pros, if she had to be honest.

Emily didn't enjoy it, but she liked it. She liked serving and doing it for her people, her family. That didn't mean it kept the stress away. It simply meant Emily dealt with it trying to appear as composed as she possibly could, and she was good at it. Emily was good at faking being just fine not to worry others.

Nonetheless, you could tell.

Be it the way her steps echoed through the entire apartment, even scaring the poor cat Sergio away to some corner of the house; be it the frown your girlfriend was showing on her features.

You could tell it was a bad, bad case.

"Bad day?" So you asked, stopping your movements alongside the rhythm of some bad song at the radio.

"It was definitely a day," Emily responded with a large sigh, leaving her coat on the couch before stepping towards you, her hands immediately grabbing your waist tightly as Emily sank her face into the crook of your neck. "Thank God you're here." She spoke after taking in a deep breath of your essence.

"I'm always here—" But before you could finish your sentence, you felt a cold metal hugging your wrists together in a rapid movement. "What are you doing?" You questioned, not with fear but mere confusion at having your hands handcuffed so suddenly.

"You want to help me feel better, right?" At that, you did nothing but nod slightly, feeling a warmth spreading across your whole body due to the position you were in—Emily hugging you from behind, with you completely at her mercy.

"Then don't question me, understood?" Another nod, and in a second Emily had you whimpering lowly as her hands went to undo your shorts, pulling them down alongside your panties in a single second.

"I bet you're wet already, aren't you?" One of her hands went to your throat, applying enough pressure to cut off some of your air but not enough to hurt, while her other hand went straight away to cup your wetting pussy. "See, I was right after all." Emily spoke with a mocking scoff, her fingers circling your clit for a few moments, causing your breathing to become further ragged, before pulling away at once.

"Emily—" Her name left your mouth in a whiny tone, barely audible due to her left hand still restraining your air and pushing more pressure in your throat.

"I said, don't question me." Her voice came out firm, determined, and you didn't dare say anything else after that, instead yet another low moan left from you at that.

You heard some ruffling, and before you could even try to turn around and find what the sound was, Emily had took her gun out of her holster and was holding it close to your now drenched cunt.

A hint of fear appeared inside you, followed by a sensation of pure thrill and need. Unable to say anything, you opted to grind your hips a bit, desperate for Emily's touch.

"You want me that bad, hm?" Keeping the firm although mocking voice, Emily instantly pressed the tip of her gun against your drenched pussy, pushing inside you inch by inch at a torturously slow pace.

The sensation of the cold metal against your warm, slicky folds had your head falling back to rest on Emily's shoulder, your eyes almost rolling back in pleasure and the strange, terrifying and exciting tingle all at once.

"You definitely must be a different kind of slut to enjoy this." Emily said with a huffing laughter, her free hand leaving your throat and allowing you more oxygen, but it all went out when she slapped your sensitive clit while still pushing her gun into you mercilessly.

"You're going to cum on my gun, like a good dirty whore, aren't you?" Each and every word pronounced by Emily made its way directly towards your entire body, a shiver running down your spine as you felt that familiar coil settling in your lower stomach.

"Yes, fuck, Emily, please—" Another slap to your clit made you unable to finish your words once again, all the while more breathy moans escaped your lips. "Mommy, please!"

You rectified her name, knowing what Emily wanted from you at the moment, and what you needed to do to get the pleasure you so intently searched, your hips bucking against the gun now covered in your juices.

"I'll be good, mommy," You promised, and you right away felt the speed of Emily's gun pounding more fiercely into your clenching cunt. "Please."

"That's right, you're my good little slut," With that, her free hand pinched your puffy clit with enough force to tear a guttural moan from you, as you cummed in that moment thanks to Emily's skilled touch and gun-play.

As you came down slowly from your climax, your legs almost gave up and Emily had to hold you more tightly towards her, her arms wrapping around your waist after she pulled her gun back into her holster.

"You've been a good girl," Emily murmured against your ear, her breath hitting your skin and making you tremble further still. "You've been so good for me."

"I'm always here for you." You managed to reply in a breathless voice, finishing the sentence she didn't let you before.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

Could you do platonic yandere Bucky barnes x teen reader who is a super soilder. The reader is like 13-14 and was apart of Hydra like him but escaped. After the avengers and bucky find reader, bucky takes them under is wing after the reader escaped hydra

「 LITTLE SOLDIER 」

Synopsis; Trapped in the darkness of his obsession, desperately seeks to reclaim a child lost in his past. After discovering that someone else has taken him in, his broken and twisted mind drives him to commit an unimaginable act of violence. Is it salvation, or a curse? In Bucky's mind, everything makes sense. But who is the true monster here?

Pairing ── James 'Bucky' Barnes x Super Soldier! Teen! Reader. (Platonic!)

Content. MDNI ⚠︎ ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, delusion, Angst, murdering, child abuse, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language — Spanish — Ahhh, it took me forever to post this, I know . I’m so sorry! I got so caught up in other things that I completely forgot about how the Winter Soldier was… and now that I’ve seen him again, what a nostalgia hit! It’s like time hasn’t passed, but at the same time, everything feels so different. Like every time you see him, you discover something new about him, you know?

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... observed the way your eyes filled with terror as you saw him, a mix of fear and confusion, like a creature trapped in a cage, unsure how to escape. Hydra had molded you, but it had also stripped you of your essence. Like many before you, you were a piece of a gear, meant to be used, controlled, and destroyed when no longer needed. You didn’t understand why you had been chosen for the experiments or how you had ended up here, you only knew you were fragile and that nothing in Hydra was truly "safe."

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... approached you with calculated coldness, like a shadow crawling in the dark. His gaze, initially empty due to the lobotomy, seemed to fixate on you now, as if a spark of humanity had reignited in his mind. His eyes didn’t shine with empathy, but with a dangerous curiosity. "Little one... how did you survive?" he murmured, more to himself than to you. The idea that someone so fragile could endure Hydra’s tortures, the serum, the constant pressure, intrigued him. But that curiosity soon turned into obsession. The protection he felt for you wasn’t a natural instinct, but one imposed by Hydra, who had ordered him to watch over you, keep you alive, but also keep you under control. You didn’t know that control would become your worst nightmare.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... watched as you were subjected to more and more experiments. The nights of training were long, endless, filled with violence and blood. But the worst part wasn’t Hydra’s violence, but the way Bucky treated you. Sometimes, his low and calm voice filtered through the screams of others, speaking to you in a tone that seemed meant to be reassuring, but deep down, it chilled your blood. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. Everything will be fine, you just have to follow my orders." What else could you do but obey? Desperation, the feeling of being trapped in an endless cycle of pain and humiliation, enveloped you like a cloak. And he... he was there, always watching, always waiting. But Sometimes, when your eyes met his, you saw something else, something that made you shudder: the echo of the darkness that once was Bucky, the shadow that could no longer be erased

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... began following you with palpable obsession, as if you were his property, an object he had to protect at all costs. He no longer confined himself to Hydra’s orders. He found you in every corner of the facility, his presence a constant shadow behind you. "Don’t stray from me, do you hear?" His voice was colder, sharper. Every time you tried to escape, even in your thoughts, the fear of facing him became a constant threat. But something in his gaze had changed, and it wasn’t concern for your well-being. It was control. It was possession. And you had become just another pawn in his game, as captive to him as you were to Hydra.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... mistreated you in ways you couldn’t comprehend, and the worst part was that after every hit, every cruel order, he would always return to you with a vacant smile, repeating the same words: "I do this for your own good." Why did he do it? Was that his way of showing you there was still some humanity left in him? Or perhaps, he could no longer distinguish between his own identity and Hydra’s orders. Every time he hit you, every time he left you marked, you could feel the confusion in his gaze, as if it wasn’t him acting, but something bigger, darker, that had taken his place.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... after the last failed mission, when you faced an enemy stronger than you could handle, Bucky took you to his side, pressing you against his chest, soaking you in his blood and yours. "Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you," he whispered, his voice rough and full of desperation. The obsession he had felt for you, growing over the years, exploded in a scream. He wanted you to know that you, you alone, belonged to him. And though he feared you, that obsession had replaced everything else. Hydra had turned Bucky into a machine, but now he only wanted to have you under his control, beyond what he understood or wanted to admit.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... was no longer just a Hydra soldier. He was a monster created by the shadows of the past, and your presence in his life was the only thing that kept him tied to something human, something he could never control. He looked at you with blind madness, he needed you, but worst of all: he feared you. And while he kept you captive with his cold hands and broken mind, what was left of his humanity slowly faded, leaving only a sick need that not even he could comprehend.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... saw you fade into the shadows, like a whisper in the dark, escaping from his reach. Panic struck him like a torrent, but not in the way one might expect. It wasn’t just the fear of losing you, but the feeling that something had been taken from him, something he could not recover. You had escaped, and it was his fault. Hydra wasn’t going to let him go so easily. With a roar of fury, he ran through the hallways, his heart pounding. "Come back here! Don’t you dare run from me!" he would shout, but his voice only echoed in the empty corners, with no answer. He knew it was too late, that you had already escaped, and something inside him began to break, a part of his mind crumbling under the weight of his own guilt.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... felt Hydra drag him back into their control, like a shadow that devoured him slowly. The anxiety of losing you wasn’t just a worry, but a madness that ate away at him from the inside. His superiors, with their cold and commanding voices, ordered him not to pursue you, to let you go. "You are nothing but a tool for us, Soldier. If she escapes, it doesn’t matter. You must complete your mission." But Bucky didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. All he could hear was the sound of your breath, your distress, and how your figure faded from his reach. All he wanted was to see you again, to take your hand, and never let you go. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t escape Hydra’s grasp.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... was once again subjected to Hydra’s yoke, as if he were a machine with no right to feel. Every attempt to escape their control was useless. Every attempt to rebel against what was expected of him only led to deeper torture. Physical pain, mental pain, it didn’t matter. He felt nothing anymore, only the constant sting of despair over your loss. Hydra had broken him once again, but this time, the feeling of losing you consumed him in a far worse way. You were gone, and he was to blame. How could he have allowed you to escape? How could he have failed to protect you?

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... in his desperation, sank into madness. He became a wandering specter within Hydra’s facility, every dark corner becoming more torturous than the last. Every second, his mind fragmented, the images of your face, your frightened eyes, repeating over and over like an echo he couldn’t silence. "You’ll come back, right? You’ll come back to me..." he whispered alone, but there was no answer. And when Hydra finally decided to send him on a mission against the heroes, his mind was on the edge of collapse. It was yet another sacrifice by the same machinery that had created him.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... when the Avengers found him and freed him from their control, reality hit him hard. The internal war between his desire for redemption and his madness over losing you exploded in his chest, like an emptiness so deep it seemed to swallow everything. There, in the midst of battle, the truth crushed him: “I let you escape… I failed you...” Panic enveloped him, and his teammates, while helping clear his mind of Hydra’s shadows, didn’t know the truth behind his suffering. They knew Bucky had been manipulated, but they never understood that for him, the true enemy had been guilt. The guilt of letting you slip away, the guilt of not keeping you under his control, of not protecting you when it was his only mission.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... had spent so long, years, fighting to find something that would redeem him, something that would pull him out of the abyss Hydra had thrown him into. The Avengers had accepted him, and little by little, the darkness that once dominated his mind began to fade. He had reconciled with Steve Rogers, his old friend, his brother. The wounds of the past began to heal, and at last, Bucky could feel something close to peace. He had found a purpose fighting alongside the heroes, protecting the innocent, trying to make right all the destruction he had caused in his life. But though his soul seemed to find some calm, his heart was still a battlefield. The obsession with you never disappeared. It was something that stayed hidden in the depths of his mind, where guilt and despair never completely abandoned him. Every time someone mentioned a child or a young person with traits or abilities similar to yours, a shiver ran down his spine. What if it was you? What if he found you again? That was always his broken hope, his private demon that never stopped haunting him.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... walked through the city on a regular day, like any other, without expecting something so deep and disturbing to happen. The air was fresh, and the city thrummed with the normality of everyday life. Children played in the park, adults walked calmly, unaware that something sinister lurked in the shadows. It was then that he saw him. A teenager, about 13 or 14 years old, with his hair falling messily over his forehead. But it was something more that made Bucky freeze in his place: that small mark on his arm, almost faded, but unmistakable. The same Hydra mark that had been etched into your skin, the symbol that had marked him too, that had made him its own. The mark he would never forget.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt like the world was crumbling beneath his feet. His heart began to race, his breathing erratic. It couldn’t be... It couldn’t be that after all this time, after all the suffering, after the guilt he had carried for years, he would find you like this, so close, yet so far. His legs trembled, his fingers clenched into fists, trying to hold on to any semblance of sanity while the emotion drowned him. The teenager didn’t look at him, distracted by his own thoughts, but Bucky couldn’t stop staring at him, observing every small detail. Everything about him screamed that it was you. "It’s... It’s my child." He thought, but his mind was so fragmented that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling overtaking him. Terror and hope mixed like poison in his veins.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... began to walk slowly, as if approaching a specter, as if he feared that by getting closer, the dream would vanish. The elderly couple didn’t notice him, and the teenager remained as oblivious to his presence as if everything were in place. But Bucky knew something had changed, that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, even though his mind was so confused he didn’t know if it was a dream or a nightmare. Each step he took toward you made him feel more and more desperate, more anxious, as if an abyss were opening beneath his feet. "Should I do it? Should I get closer? Would he want to see me?" he thought, his hands trembling with uncertainty and guilt. Time had passed, but for him, the child he had lost was still the same, and his madness made him think that maybe he could still fix it, repair what he had destroyed, as if he could take your hand again and tell you everything would be fine.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... finally crossed the threshold of doubt. With each step toward you, his mind emptied of logic, and the only thing he felt was a wild urgency, a deep desire for everything to return to how it was before. He only thought of the child he had let go, the child who had been marked by Hydra, the child who was now here, in front of him, unaware that his savior was also his jailer. With his heart pounding, a mixture of fear and hope, Bucky took the last step and stood before you, his gaze filled with twisted and anxious devotion, while his lips whispered almost breathlessly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "It’s you... it’s really you, right?"

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... watched as your face, upon noticing his presence, transformed from a calm expression to one of pure panic. The eyes of that teenager widened as if he had seen a ghost, his body instinctively recoiling, a visceral reaction to seeing him. The fear reflected in your gaze was like a dagger stabbed into his chest. His fractured and obsessed mind didn’t understand what was happening at that very moment. He couldn’t comprehend how, after everything he had done, after the life he had stolen from you, you could still be so afraid of him.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt something twist inside him. It was pain, but also anxiety, a sensation that suffocated him when he saw you take a step back, trembling all over. And then, to his horror, something he hadn’t anticipated: you started to cry. Tears began to stream from your eyes, as if your body couldn’t contain the fear any longer, and Bucky froze at that moment. How could it be that he caused you so much pain, even now? "No... I didn’t want to scare you," he thought, but his thoughts couldn’t reach you. The horror in your face was a warning that you never, ever wanted to see that monster you once were again.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... watched as you turned and began to run, your figure quickly disappearing into the crowd. Anguish enveloped him, the fear of losing you again made him react in desperation. He tried to reach you, to shout at you, but his legs seemed incapable of moving quickly enough. "Wait, please!" he screamed in his mind, but the words didn’t leave his lips, they were trapped in a sea of madness. You were gone. And Bucky, with a broken heart, stood there frozen as your figure vanished before him, like an illusion he couldn’t hold onto.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t let the tragedy repeat itself. Using his sharp tracking skills, he delved into Stark and SHIELD’s technology, recovering all available resources to follow you, to know who you were now. The Avengers helped him, yes, but what he needed most was to find an answer, a solution, something that would lead him to you. Every second that passed without knowing about you was driving him crazy, feeding his need for possession, his urgency to have you, to protect you, to reclaim you.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... for days, Bucky unearthed information, tracked records, and dove into the Stark and SHIELD databases. Nothing stopped him. He knew your Hydra mark would give you away, that even if the scar was almost erased, someone, somewhere, would know something. And so, it was how he finally uncovered the truth: you had been adopted by a local family in the city. In fact, they lived in a quiet neighborhood, far from everything that could have been your past. A loving family, seemingly, who had given you a home and a life he could never offer. The revelation overwhelmed him. They had forgotten you, but to him, you were no ordinary child. You would always be his child, the one he had left behind and now could not let go.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt a growing rage inside him as he clung to the new information. How could someone else take his place? How could he allow it? The people who had adopted you, those strangers who treated you as their son, didn’t know what was behind you. They didn’t know what Hydra had done to you, what he had done, what he had promised you. And in Bucky’s mind, that only meant one thing: he wasn’t going to let them go on with their peaceful life. You belonged to him, and although the idea of being a father terrified and disgusted him, to Bucky, all of that boiled down to an unhealthy obsession with possessing what he had lost. Reconciliation with his own past didn’t matter because, at that moment, only you mattered.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t stop thinking about how, after everything that had happened, you could be happy with a life he hadn’t been able to give you. But the guilt consumed him. Every time he thought about the family that had adopted you, his mind filled with dark shadows, disturbing thoughts about what he could do to "protect" you from them. He knew his obsession was becoming more dangerous, darker, but he could no longer stop. He couldn’t lose you again.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t bear the fact that someone else had you, someone who didn’t know your pain, your suffering, or your true story. When he found the house where you lived, his mind twisted even more. Steve’s warning still echoed in his ears, his friend insisting: "Bucky, don’t do this. You can’t go on with this madness." But the warning was useless. To him, there was no turning back. Steve’s words no longer had power over him, fear, guilt, or remorse faded into the darkness. The only thing left was the sick desire to have you back, to "save" you from those people who were "usurping" you.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... infiltrated the house, getting rid of any security or surveillance as if they were mere obstacles in his way. No one in the house knew what was about to happen. The darkness of the night enveloped him as his footsteps echoed silently down the hallway. He moved with the precision of a predator, his breathing calm and cold, knowing exactly what he was going to do. The first victim was the adoptive father, a man who never saw the danger coming, a lethal shadow that pounced on him, and before he could react, Bucky had already silenced him brutally. With a precise blow, the blood spilled mercilessly, staining the floor and walls as Bucky continued his mission without a hint of emotion on his face.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... killed the adoptive mother with the same efficiency. It didn’t matter who they were, whether they were young or old, if they had raised the child with love, their presence in the life of his child was the only thing that mattered. As his knife sank in again and again, the blood flowing from the victims formed a river of chaos and death. The rooms of the other adopted siblings became a massacre without remorse, their bodies fallen in silence, as if their lives had no value in the face of his obsession with you. The metallic shine of the blood on the walls, the way the lights reflected on the surfaces of the house, only fueled his euphoria. No one in the house survived, they all fell to his unstoppable violence.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... finally ascended the stairs, his mind shadowed by what he had just done, but without remorse. He reached your room and stopped at the door. You could hear his breathing, heavy but calm, as if everything was under his control. And then, he saw something that made him smile, that twisted and macabre smile only he could show: you. You were asleep, unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded downstairs. There was no way you could hear the screams, the sounds of blood being spilled. You were just there, resting as if nothing had happened.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... approached your bed, his hand trembling slightly as he watched you. The horror of what he had done no longer mattered. The only concern in his mind was seeing you, the child he had lost, again. You belonged to him. Madness enveloped him as he looked at your innocent face. He leaned down to you, and in a soft voice, he whispered through subtle laughs, his warm breath on your ear: "I’m so happy to see you, little soldier. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. No one will hurt you again." The softness of his words completely contradicted the sea of blood he had left behind, but to him, it all made sense. He had brought you back. Finally, after so much suffering and pain, he had claimed you.

The floor was covered in blood, the echoes of the massacre ringing in his mind, but all he could focus on was you. You, his lost child, his little soldier. He watched you while you slept, completely unaware of what had just happened around you. And despite the violence, despite how horrible everything had been, he was happy. He knew that from now on, everything he touched, everything he desired, he would steal for himself. And finally, Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, felt that his life had regained something he could never have: control.

[sunniedesi]

The Decay of Andy and Leyley: the bad, the ugly and the terrible

Now that it’s been a while since I finished the Decay route, I think I’m ready to finally analyse this chapter as a whole. I’ve collected my thoughts and read through a couple of people’s opinions here and there… just to be utterly disappointed. I knew casual fans generally didn’t understand much of the subtext for tcoaal, but damn are they completely lost with this one. Maybe it’s the fact that I only interact with a small echo chamber of the fandom that does get it, but after all the terrible takes I’ve had the displeasure of seeing, I think it’s time I leave my own. There is quite a lot to comment on, since this part of Decay builds upon several plot points of the story: the quarantine, the entity, lord unknown, and namely, the main duo’s upbringing and relationship. While I’d love to pick apart every nook and cranny of this episode, this analysis will only focus on Andrew and Ashley’s relationship, as that alone has plenty of things to dissect for one post. I will also comment on some of the changes done to the previous episodes and what that could mean for the next routes. (More below the cut, this will be a long one).

But before I begin anything I want to start with a disclaimer of the obvious; yes, this game is fucked up and the relationship is toxic, horribly so (wow, who would’ve thunk it?). If things weren’t messed up before then they certainly are now, so I understand why nobody would want to touch this game with a ten-foot pole. In fact, I’ve noticed many let’s players who’ve previously played it either not mentioning it or going as far as to delete every video they’ve made on it (not dropping names here but I had a couple of videos in my watch later taken down mere minutes after I saved them because of this). I often see people saying “it’s just fiction” as a defense for talking about this, which is totally valid, but my view of it is a bit different. It is fiction, yes, but also something that could very easily happen in real life and that a lot of people could (unfortunately) relate to. That’s what makes it uncomfortable and gross, and that is exactly the reason why we should talk about it. As per words of the author “although unpleasant, true [CHAOS AND MAYHEM!!!] can only be achieved by unearthing the root cause of one's issues and addressing the underlying decay.” Even if you think it’s icky and gross that doesn’t disqualify it from existing. Moreover, it calls for analysis as to why it makes you feel gross, which might I add is an impulse reaction to something much deeper than a simple “nooo they’re related,” as there are many layers to this from a moral, ethical and psychosexual perspective.

So… let’s talk about it. 

The Bad: Andy and Leyley

The beginning of the episode tells us a lot about the upbringing of our characters, though most of it was writing on the wall if you paid attention during episode 2. We play as Andrew, examining his psyche and going through the motions of how to be a walking disappointment. As he cooks, cleans, excels at school and sets order in his family, he accomplishes a level of independence many don’t reach until adulthood, all before the age of 10. Yet every single mistake, as small or out of his control as it may be, is a cause for reprimanding. Renee doesn’t spare the emotional rod with him per se, expecting Andrew to go above and beyond for tasks that she should be responsible for. And whenever her live-in maid complains or dares to set an even playing field, such attempts are crushed by repressing him further into his shell. Berating, insulting, belittling him.

Nothing he does is ever enough, and it can’t be,  lest giving him hope of ever meeting others’ expectations, of ever doing better. The more suppression, the less of his independence, say or personality, the easier to control. The less of Andrew the better. And as such, Andy was born: a sorry replacement for Andrew’s essence, easily malleable and capable of becoming everything you want him to be. Many believe Andy is a result of Leyley, but really

Andy was a nightmare of Renee’s own making. And speaking of nightmares, Leyley’s origins aren’t much different. Having a second child as a middle finger to your disapproving family is no good if you don’t intend to raise said child. But what’s the need when Andy is there to do it? Disciplining a kid aching for attention is far too taxing for Renee, especially one with as much attitude as Leyley. So, instead of inflicting more trauma as she’s done with Andy, she lets him pass his own over to her, creating a direct pipeline to the cycle of abuse. It should be noted that in one of the new visions available we see that Renee is an older sister herself, and was expected to also go above and beyond for her sister despite being completely disregarded by her family.

In other words, her treatment of Andy and complete neglect of Leyley are anything but surprising. It’s all she’s ever known. (Not excusing Renee, I hate her with a passion, but it’s important to know where everything is coming from).

Funnily enough, Leyley’s personality isn’t as innate as many believe. It’s easy to see her as the “difficult child,” but in reality, everything she does is a cry for help. We’re dealing with a lonely, undisciplined girl, disregarded by the world as a crybaby and a freak, left to be raised by trash TV and her clueless older brother. The result of this terrible concoction is a self-loathing, marshmallow spine of a boy and a lost, shrieky viper of a girl. Neither can like each other, because they don’t like themselves. And neither can help the other, because they refuse to see themselves for what they are. These are Andy and Leyley, the antagonists of the story.

As much as people have difficulty separating Andy and Leyley from Andrew and Ashley it must be noted that, from a narrative perspective, these are entirely different characters. Andy and Leyley are the immature, worst traits of our main duo personified: Andy is a paranoid pushover garnering resentment every time his buttons are pushed, while Leyley is nothing more than a scared little girl, terrified of abandonment and terrified of change. The more they push and pull, the more they test and bring out the worst in each other, the more they decay. But if these are Andy and Leyley, then who are Andrew and Ashley?

The Ugly: Andrew and Ashley

I believe the cliffhanger route is where we get to see the most of these two, though glimpses of them can be seen in the Shots and Such route. Andrew we know (thanks to his lengthy pov) is a crude and relentless antisocial who can’t stand anyone. He only does so out of keeping appearances, instilled by his mom, but just like her, is incapable of caring for anything. Something Ashley is very quick to point out when they were children.

We also see he’s very manipulative, sly and finds fun in (mentally) messing with people and romanticising the shit of his life, perhaps as a way to feel something other than the misery it bestows upon him. However, not playing nice can only bring trouble, so he hides behind the mask of the innocent pushover (Andy). Needless to say, this is a life full of lies and deception, utterly unsatisfactory. It will never fulfill his true desires and can only push him further into nihilism. But what are his true desires? 

Well, to be seen and understood, the one thing no one’s ever bothered to do. No one except the mess of his own making. Ashley, the girl Andrew raised, is full of wit and charm. As seen in the flashbacks, she’s perceptive and quickly calls bullshit whenever she sees it. She doesn’t play nice, she doesn’t put up a front, she’s everything Andrew could be if he wasn’t afraid to show his true colors. This last bit is why I would argue Andrew is so drawn to her, that and of course all of the trauma bonding. As Andrew says himself, his attraction is pathological, i.e. unreasonable and irrational, a result of his loneliness and conditioning from childhood. And as much as I agree that it is paraphilic in nature, I do believe there is a logical side to his attraction; Ashley is loud, obnoxious and annoying. Carefree and unbothered, the flip-side to his Andy facade. In fact, she hates having to keep up appearances and how everyone around her is a phony. For Andrew, the man that has endured years of suppression and self-loathing, it is a relief, it is liberating to have someone just as bad as him. Someone who wouldn’t be afraid of him. Someone who could meet him at the same level; an equal.

Continuing with Ashley, one of her most emblematic traits is that she’s self-assured and doesn’t care about anything or anyone except for Andrew. This is quite the contrast to Leyley, who is incredibly insecure, selfish and does not care for Andy, only the reassurance he brings. And how do we know Ashley cares about Andrew if Leyley does not? Well…

This flashback is the single most important piece of information we get from the whole chapter. So let’s analyze it from the start. Julia takes Andrew to visit Nina’s grave, bringing back a slew of emotional turmoil he’s still haunted by. He immediately goes home to unpack it with Ashley.

(because god knows he was thinking about her the whole time he was talking to Julia). Ashley shows her first signs of maturity in the conversation that ensues, accurately pointing out the impending doom of Andrew and Julia’s relationship, and being a little more… introspective.

It’s clear that Leyley’s view of relationships is skewed, to say the least. She barely distinguishes romance from platonic love and has a very childish take of sex being "gross and all men want.” I’ve seen many people, before and after this chapter release, theorize that Ashley is asexual, something that’s always bothered me to no end. It’s one thing to just headcanon a character having “x” sexuality for the sake of it, but here people were using a headcanon to explain a critical part of her characterization, one of her Leyley traits. It is reductive and misguided, not to mention a terrible example of what asexuality would actually look like. Because this isn’t an innate characteristic from Ashley, it is a sign of immaturity, and to a certain degree, also insecurity.

Leyley has been conditioned her entire existence to believe she’s loathsome and undesirable, so anyone sticking around would never be out of their own volition. It would have to be a transaction, give and take. If Andy and Leyley marry it would have to be this way, a selfish exchange on both ends. But as she says: “different is fine, sometimes.” This is Ashley talking, taking into consideration Andrew’s needs for once and for all, which is the reason she made a move after he woke up. She understands his needs and is willing to put out for him, thinking maybe it could be good for her too. 

But boy does he fumble hard. Which I don’t blame him for, dude wasn’t in the right headspace at the time. Though this is the moment that set Ashley’s development far, far behind square one. She didn’t take the rejection well. For once she was doing what he wanted, and he pushed her away (mixed signals much). He began being very cold to her afterwards (albeit in a fruitless attempt to repress his feelings, which as we see through the puzzle sequences, the more he crushed his feelings on the outside, the further they spread on the inside). The moment Andrew reached out for her again, a year later might I add, he did it because of Ashley, or rather Leyley, needing to be reprimanded and set on the right track (with the massage parlor job).

This sealed the deal for Ashley that the only way to secure Andrew’s attention was the way that Leyley used to do with Andy: bitch and moan until he pays attention. In other words, it’s Andrew’s fault that Ashley is the way she is… though he’s not entirely aware of it, as seen in parts of his pov. And to a certain extent, Ashley also plays a part into why he’s so apprehensive to the idea of liking her. Her childish nature and refusal to grow up is proof to Andrew that if she were to indulge his desires, it would be to keep him around, but it wouldn’t be reciprocal (which is ultimately what he desires the most). 

This is my main takeaway from the cliffhanger route. I won’t be theorising much on what the outcomes for this route could be (more on why later), though I will be referencing this heavily for the analysis of Shots and Such.    

Also the symbolism in this scene is quite strong (couldn’t fit it into the previous paragraphs but wanted to bring it up anyway).

Her painted nails are trashy, and Julia's nails are painted. Andrew stares in silence as Julia rings away...  

Also:

This is after you destroy the Leyley plushie on the wedding cake scene, to retrieve Ashley's choker (which can later be used to create Andrew's partner... which also grants you a star). Originally, the plushies were watching cartoons, but now that Leyley is gone... something else surfaces. Interestingly enough, if you refuse to destroy it when prompted, the narrator will say "what are you, some Andy?" And if you try again after that, it won't allow to you to tear it apart, saying "you've made your choice." Very strong symbolism there. Let's move onto Shots and Such now.

The Absolutely Terrible: the Decay of Andy and Leyley

A terrible, disgusting, horrifying and necessary ending. Necessary to really discern the differences between Andy/Leyley and Andrew/Ashley, plus why the former will ALWAYS be a pointless, troublesome pairing. They hurt, abuse and tear each other down in the most sadistic and depressive ways possible. Long gone are the days of their playful banter, they are now replaced with just plain ol’ spousal abuse. Even when they try reviving their spark with their quick banter about the vacuums, it is soulless and dry, the damage done to their dynamic far too damming to ignore. 

They are never honest with each other, and they’re always afraid and resentful of the other. The only thing keeping them together is codependency and lame sex that sometimes distracts them from how miserable they feel. The one sex scene in this chapter reads like a dagger to the heart, because it is everything neither of them wanted to happen. Andrew yearned for something reciprocal, for him to be seen. And as much as he begs and pleads for Ashley to understand, Leyley’s fear of abandonment overtakes her, diminishing the little trust she had for him and respect she had for herself. As a result, they both hated the encounter, and the only two solutions are ending themselves or committing to a life of such misery.

In the splat ending, we indulge Andy’s desires of ending it all, and Leyley reluctantly follows, scared and unsatisfied until the bitter end, but unwilling to let go of her Andy. In the Shots and Such ending, we indulge Leyley’s fantasies of a forever union, which turn out to be anything but the ideals she had for Andy and Leyley’s marriage. It is more of the same old horrific abuse, dishonesty and bickering over nothing, with maybe one glimpse of honesty forced out by the alcohol every once in a blue moon. 

No matter the end, they’re both together forever as Andy and Leyley, dragging each other down into the lowest of levels. It’s pointless and bleak, and it certainly sent the fandom into a frenzy. You think the people defending Andrew “I’m normal” Graves or the people saying Ashley “did nothing wrong” were bad? Well, just as this route brought the worst out of the Graves, it also brought out the worst of these fans.

Every time I look into the comments section of a video or discussions for this chapter, it’s a constant shit-flinging contest of who had the worst upbringing, who has the worst personality, who is the most abusive, (which most people seem to be pointing fingers at Ashley for that one). It’s all blah blah blah who’s the woest of the woe. And worst of all, plenty of men (they’re almost always men) saying “Andrew should beat Ashley up some more.” I understand that Ashley’s worst traits as Leyley were amplified in this chapter, but honestly, men who had that takeaway from this chapter disturb me more than the game itself. Heck, even mother-of-the-year Renee calls bullshit on this:   

(context: this is a rhetorical question, the answer being no, obviously.)

Let’s get one thing straight: no character here is worse than the other. They’re both awful, they both beat each other, they both abuse each other and they're both victims of each others’ abuse. The tragedy here is that they are as much victims as they are perpetrators, with no end in sight, because the more one hurts the other, the more retaliation ensues. Characterizing one as the worst is, again, completely reductive and overlooking the point of the ending: nothing gets better because neither got better. We only saw Andy and Leyley in this route, with brief glimpses of Andrew and Ashley, that are quickly crushed by their inability to disengage from their toxic habits.

I think it’s clear to see how Ashley is regressing more into her fears (Leyley), given the threat of being murdered by the only person she has left forced her into that state. She doesn’t want to die, she’s terrified of death, and wants the security she believes Andy will bring her back. Except Andy is the one harboring resentment, as Andrew is the one trying to work past it. And to the people who think we’re playing as Andrew and Leyley in this route because “we chose Andrew,” no we’re not. There’s a reason the beginning of both the Andy and Andrew (shots and such) routes look the same in terms of the area we explore in the demon realm. 

There’s a reason why he keeps devolving further and further into resentment for Leyley. The “Andrew” choice means nothing if Ashley refuses to stop being Leyley. And her regression is reinstated by the selfish decision to kill Andrew in the bullets ending (and yes, I’m calling it selfish, since it is once again denying Andrew of his need to be rid of the Andy and Leyley dynamic). This reinforces Andrew’s belief that Leyley doesn’t want him, that his love is one-sided, and that she doesn’t care for his needs. The moment this choice (shooting Andrew) is set in stone it’s game over for both, because one can’t heal without the other. Again, nothing gets better because neither can get better.

The only difference between both routes is that when we pick Andy, Andrew surrenders. He’s hurt, battered and confused, but Andy’s instinctual need to please Leyley reigns above all. He knows it won’t get better, he doesn’t know how to make it better, so to hell with it. If we choose to be Andrew, Andrew never surrenders, insisting there must be a way to fix this, but can’t due to Leyley’s insistence. This leads to Andrew's decay, as he devolves into a mixture of Andy’s resentment boiling over and Andrew’s sadism. The logical part of him (which is Andrew’s lingering care for Ashley) tells him to disengage from the fighting. But his resentment (Andy’s decay) is overpowering his love for her. It gets to the point where both Andy and Andrew become undistinguishable, as they have melded to become his most deranged self. Surprisingly, something similar happens with Ashley, who also struggles to surrender in this route. There are two moments of honesty in the Shots and Such route, the only moments we get to see Andrew and Ashley completely. First is Andrew comforting Ashley’s sobs:

Here, Ashley was actually honest with him for once, which allows both of them to open up. This exchange is much more lighthearted compared to the rest of the route because both are meeting each other at the same level, talking through things together, addressing their happiness and where they want to go. Ashley shines through, taking genuine interest in Andrew’s happiness, but before things can settle…

Ashley must face her fears of freeing Andrew, trusting him. And she doesn’t, because let’s remember, we chose Leyley in this route and let Ashley decay. So once again, things go back to how they were, pointless resentment. There was also a time where Andrew opened up, and that’s when he was drunk out of his mind.

He put his front down, enough to indulge in his paraphilia but not enough to fully express his love. The mixed signals are strong with this one, which further confuses Leyley. However, when they go to sleep that night, Andrew opens up about his needs, about needing Ashley to see him for the mess of a man that he is and still accept him. Ashley takes the stage, reassuring him that she knows all his secrets and loves him regardless. Andrew is honest about why he pushes her away, because it’s the last thread of normalcy he has left. However, things quickly go back to normal, when Leyley refuses to give him a kiss due to all the times he pushed her away. At the end of both of these scenes, we hear a sad music box tune, a sad reminder of how crucial these scenes are. How easily things could be fixed with the care and honesty they warrant, and how easily they fall apart out of simple reluctance and conformity. 

This is a constant thread we see in their relationship, throughout flashbacks and present time, as well as symbolisms throughout Burial and Decay. The choice to not only trust, but to be honest with one another despite their fears could’ve been the fix they needed all along, the one thing they needed to mature. Their bond is so fragile, so easily twisted, that the only way to salvage any semblance of tenderness is to address their underlying decay. I find it funny how there are still people (few but still some) who were disappointed to see that Decay wouldn’t be the "normal" route. I read a few comments of people wanting their relationship to be fixed and be a normal sibling dynamic. To which I just have to say, that is way more delusional than the people who expected any routes of this game to be all fluff and rainbows.

The relationship was already screwed from the get-go, but here’s the hard pill to swallow: having a normal relationship is not the fix they need nor want. The paraphilia has consumed Andrew so thoroughly that his only solution is to completely wipe his brain or fully indulge in it (possibly the two routes of episode 4), while Ashley has to let go of her selfish, childish desires to recognize the Andrew she wanted has been there all along if she cares to meet him there. Is it an unsavory solution? Yeah. It’s gross, morally and ethically reprehensible. But that’s just who they are as people. And accepting themselves for who they are is ultimately the last ditch effort they could ever take to salvage this volatile, fragile relationship. I mean, this optional dialogue really puts it best:

(This is the single line of dialogue that actually made me tear up btw, not even the splat/shots and such ending tore into me so much as this line). 

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is, at its core, a cautionary tale of generational trauma and the cycle of abuse. How far will people go if pushed to their limits? Is it ever possible to remedy yourself once you’re at the point of no return? And is that remedy worse than the sickness itself? Can the doomed ever be redeemed? And if so, what are the necessary steps to take in order to redeem yourself, before it all goes dark? Andrew and Ashley can keep longing for one another all they want, but until Andy and Leyley are ripped and torn to shreds, neither will improve, and are fated to decay in the coffin of a different apartment, one built out of their own hangups and fears. We’ll see what episode 4 has in store, I trust the author will give us a satisfying conclusion. And speaking of the author…

The Meh: Changes to Episode 2

This new update brought about a couple of changes to the previous episodes as well. Namely, the wording for the decisions that split the story into Burial and Decay, as well as revamping the Burial route. I’ll be honest… I’m not a big fan of some of these.

For starters, this new update made me realize the author, as offline as she appears to be, is keenly aware of people’s opinions of the game and takes quite the contrarian attitude to people who miss the point of the story (something I can’t blame her for entirely, and seems to be the reason why things escalated so much in this chapter). Take for example the Grave Mistakes vision, Andrew explaining why they’re not addressing the Toxisoda thing anymore, and going as far as to add a bloody sprite for Ashley in the Burial route (something a few people were complaining about back in the day). Also, there is an optional dialogue in the highschool flashback that feels like a clapback to the Renee mod:

I’m glad the author is aware of people’s criticisms and takes the time to sort through them, but part of me wishes she didn’t try to over-explain some plot points. The thing that I originally loved about the game was the subtle storytelling, how it takes you a couple of playthroughs to fully understand everything lying beneath the surface. It plays tricks with you and makes you think about the characters’ true intentions, goals and desires, all the way until they spiral out of control and pretenses can’t be kept anymore. I liked that Ashley has a little back and forth between wanting to trust Andrew, being unable to because of her insecurities, and falling back on the trinket. But now…

The choice kinda spells it out for you already. For one, the choice of dialogue feels a bit clunky and also redundant given the next couple of lines confirm this already. The change in the olive branch choice, with it now being reflect/decline, doesn’t bother me as much, but this feels a little too in your face. Same thing with the changes to the Burial vision. I like that you have to put the green plushie back in the cage at the end, as it’s something you also did earlier in the puzzle, so it feels less contradictory. But the change to this line…

It’s honestly giving too much away. People go through the Burial route because they want the siblings to trust each other, and they select the left door for the questionable outcome because they want to make the questionable choice. However that route turns out, whether good or bad, is for us to find out as we play. And mind you, I already know it’s not ending so well given the hex Andrew gets in Burial is the same as in the Decay Andy route. That just cannot be any good. Plus, the fact that Burial is all about burying things under the rug. I suspect that while Decay is more about Andrew due to its reflective nature, Burial will be all about Ashley due to her nature of compartmentalizing. I imagine both Burial and Decay will have their own good and bad routes, but I’d rather not jump the gun into assuming what each will pan out to look like, as chances are I’ll be completely mistaken.

And I say this as a good portion of the fanbase was proven wrong with this new update, in terms of what Decay and Burial are about. The general consensus used to be Burial = romance, Decay = hate. Some fans even came up with the bizarre defense that the game is not so bad because the incest is totally optional! It's on the player to pick it. All the while you have Andrew grabbing Ashley's belt loops and cuddling her on the couch in both routes...

I can appreciate asking people to look at what's beneath the surface and analyze things a little more critically, but that was just plain wrong lol. In the back of my mind, I always hoped that Decay would address some of Andrew's feelings to completely shut down all the "optional" nonsense. Welp, that it did... way more than I anticipated.     

Anyway, my point with this last bit of the rant was that I hope these changes don’t become a trend of the author trying to make things clearer for normies or paying any mind to them, as that would only cheapen the storytelling. Those who get the story get it, and if not, they can read people’s shizo analyses online. But I don’t need my hand held throughout the game; I like figuring things out on my own. To wrap things up, I’ll just say I’m very happy with the outcomes we got. They were terrible, but necessary for the reasons explained above. I was originally very scared of the Decay route, as I didn’t know exactly what to expect and angry Andrew scares me. But this has quickly become my favorite episode of all and I can only hope the next ones do it justice. Keep cooking Nemlei, you’re doing good.