<<DNI if you shame people for having "cringe" interests>> *proceeds to shame or disrespect someone for having interest in fictional stuff they don't like instead of using the block button even though that person has done anything to anyone*

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Correct Ending

John Doe x M!It/Its!Reader

Last Edited: 27/03/23

TW: blood, horror, stalking

Requested: no

Word Count: 3,031

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: role-reversal AU. reader is the stalker/eldritch-horror being, john doe is a gas station worker stuck in a time loop (tho his looks/odd actions r still the same). it/its used 4 reader/mention of reader having a “human male form/human male face” as well as having “sir”. he/they pronouns used 4 john doe. treat this as having some spoilers (ending 7 basically)+remember of the canon creepiness/horror aspect from the game. if u can’t handle that, this prob aint 4 u so tread with caution/dont read. distorted/glicth text have numbers beside them as they will b put in at the end with each word 2 b read easier if desired/needed.

While people think the man is creepy, you couldn’t help but l̸̩̈́̿͆̔͌́ő̶̗̠͛͊͑̍̿v̵̨͎̈̄̀̚ĕ̵̖̦͔̘͇̑͊̿̌̑̄ [1] him. It didn’t matter that they didn’t shower or seem to understand that his clothes being thrown everywhere in his home wasn’t exactly the best for their mental health. The deteriorating mental health of your beloved truly did help you in a way though. It meant that he’d need someone around and what better person to help them than you? None of those other people in Uncanny Valley can help him like you could. They’re just tiny little humans, lacking anything significant about them. You, on the other hand, can protect your lovely little gas station worker by simply existing. Changing most of your form to anything he may desire is something you keep in mind, watching, together with, seeing what they may or may not like. Of course, some things you do rather wish to keep; a more human male figure seems more appropriate to you at times when you’re with the guy. It had taken a while but after watching how other men looked, you had been able to achieve the appropriate image.

Due to the time loop, it appears that John Doe forgets about you. Every. Single. Time. You’re doing what you can to ensure he chooses the right options. You’ve been trying for so ļ̴̢̹̫̪̙̀͛̈́̓͛o̸̬͔̍͛n̶̜̽͛̾̀̕g̵̨̖̎̇̄͐̈́̇[2]. So why can’t the person just r̵̬͇̓̋e̴̹͐m̵̨̢̈́͝e̶̻̭̔̄m̸̧͚̽͊b̵̯̑̈́ē̴͔r̴̭̙̊[3]? That’s all they have to do. Remember you! It’s all you want! You want to be remembered, for all your trials and errors to be acknowledged! You distort reality for him! You’ve even given him gifts you thought he’d like; he’s accepted them every time but soon enough, those gifts get pushed aside, along with forgotten, when the new day arrives. But today there will be a change! There has to be! You’ve tried your best so you need to make this one count. It’s either the route he chooses leads to the right outcome for you both, or one that leads to one they will surely hate.

You see him on the bus, staring into space. For a human, he’s more uncanny than most. Maybe that’s what brought you to l̷̹͊͘ộ̸̊͐v̴̛̬͈͆̂̈́i̷͎̪̝̾̔̂ṉ̴̱̪̑g̸͙͛̄͌ [4] them. Then again, not seeing anything odd or weird in a place called Uncanny Valley would be wrong. He truly does fit in with the town in a way; the behaviour that is. Their looks give them more of a wild, unhygienic appearance more than anything. So many other humans stay away from the guy because of it, leading to a wide berth on the bus. It works in your favour after all; you possibly can’t go a day without watching the darling thing. To catch your interest out of all the others is an achievement in itself. Oh, they truly should be proud of themself because of that.

Seemingly sensing your staring, the yellowed eyes look towards your glassy ones. Once met, your grin widens tenfold. It seems to nearly split your face in half, showing off way more teeth than a human can possibly have. They blink at you, the black shirt they have on changing its design to an eye with a question mark as the pupil. The lips that never seem to close fully lift just slightly, more in a confused smile than a happy one. You’ll take it though, feeling warmth clouding your brain at his simple grin. You lessen your beaming when he looks away, starting to zone out again by how unfocused their eyes start to look. The warmth starts to edge away now that their attention is no longer on you. You can feel your lips fall into a straight line, feeling empty with that small amount of attention lost.

The bus stops, opening its doors to let off the passengers. John is one of the first to get off, letting you follow him from a distance, having taken the back of the line to do so. They’re heading to the gas station, working another day behind the counter. The long, messy hair of his is easy to spot in the small crowd; not to mention that they, along with a few others, are heading to place. Not many stop by thanks to the reality-shifting you do to try and keep John more or less alone. It makes time drag by slower, plus, you can watch him for longer.

You lurk about, staying hidden among the aisles to let John get comfortable in the beginning of their shift. You don’t want to appear suddenly like you have so many other times. It always seems to lead to the B̵̟͚̝̫̣̹̯̈̿̑͐ ̸̠̟̬͙̍͊́̇͆͜͠͝Ȁ̵̡̰͙͍̱̹̯͆̿ ̸̓̀̋̒̇͜D̷̰̖̥̤̣͈͕͂̒̓̽͌ ̷͉̼̦̒̈́ ̶͈̲̏͐ͅE̵̗̘̺̥̰̠̟͆̅͒̐̔̈́ ̵̙̞̭̪̙́͐͊̿͝N̷̩͋̕ͅ ̸̨͚̯̈́͑̌̀́̾̚D̸͍̩̫̈̈́̋͗̽̕ͅͅ ̷̮̩̋̋̈́͊͋̀Ĩ̸̥͈̙̦͊̅͘̚ ̷̳̱͕̻̜͚̋̊͐͝Ṇ̷̡͓̟̃̆̊̔ͅ ̷̭̬̇̆̈̈́͊G̴̤̒̐̍̈́ ̶̣̺̒̚Ș̸̲̺͇̋̈ [5]. Those were so tiring to deal with, having to revive your love over and over and over and over again. “It’ll be different this time. It’ll be better,” Your voice, though low, sounds disembodied with a static quality. You’ll win his affection this time or simply restart again until he accepts… So many endings have passed, moreover, restarting is getting tiring. You can feel your desperation taking over, leading to your hands shaking.

You grab the first thing you can get your quivering hands on, leading the object to your mouth. A tearing sound echoes in the store as your mouth widens, the skin going from your lips to your ear tearing open to reveal more teeth. The object is placed in your mouth, your jaws clamping down on it, completely as well as utterly crushing the item. You can hear glass shatter and crunch as you eat both the glass as well as pickled quail eggs. The taste combined with the texture of both floods your mouth as you try to get your mind in order. By the time you finish, there’s a puddle of juice on the floor, the jar, metal lid, and pickled eggs all having been eaten. Your hands have stopped shaking so you allow your face to go back to the human male face you’ve constructed, alongside altered, just for John.

With a clearer head, you look around the aisle. Your glassy eyes make eye contact with a horrified mother with her three kids. The children, all ranging from ages four to eight, stare at you with awe mixed with terror. The mother, on the other hand, looks like she’s about to pass out with how much panic seeps out of her. You give them a large, toothy grin, wiggling your fingers mockingly. She herds her kids away, shushing them when they try to protest. None of them will remember this by tomorrow.

Deciding your beloved has had enough time to settle into their shift, you start to approach the counter. No one is at the counter, letting you walk right up and stand before him. He’s staring off again, almost always does so when bored or understimulated. The skin at the edges of your eyes crinkle as you smile, this one not as wide as the one who had given them on the bus nor to the family in the aisle. With no answer, you reach into your pocket, pulling out your closed fist. “Hi.” Your voice, now sounding like it comes from you, carries a cheery but unhinged tone. The yellow eyes you’ve come to adore look at you, now more focused and full of attention.

“Hi,” They blink in surprise at your presence, clearly having missed it until you appeared. “How can I help you, sir?” Your closed fist hovers over the counter, your smile never wavering, as you release your gift.

“For you!” Teeth, some bloodied while others are nearly shiny clean, land on the counter with a clattering sound. John stares at them, his mouth forming a straight line despite never closing all the way. With no answer from him, together with their eyes going unfocused again, you try to smooth it over with more words you deem to be complimentary. “You smell good.” It jolts them back into reality for the moment. You can see his pupils start to expand, nearly swallowing all of the yellow. His shirt even has the eye change, the pupil on it now a heart. You know you haven’t won them over just yet but you have the seed planted in his mind now.

“Uhm… Ok…” His voice shakes, along with his hands as he drags them closer to himself. The black nails they have shine in the light, only adding to their appearance you’re fond of so much. He scoops them in his hand, putting them in the incorrectly-worn jacket’s pocket. You’re not sure if they’re genuinely happy about your gift, or absolutely horrified by the fact that they were just given teeth by a stranger, in their mind that is; you both know each other already if only he remembered you.

“What’s your name?” You lean towards him, hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly, they can see the strain in your knuckles. The smile he gives you is still small, pupils still enlarged. Quietly, as well as shakily, they point to their name tag.

“That’s definitely one of the names I’ve heard. I’m _̵͙̋̈́-̴̻͖͍̆̆-̵̧̨͆_̸̦̞̊̆-̵̢͗͝_̵̰̇̕-̷̩̭̈́͋_̴͙̺͇̦̅̃  [6] but you can call me [Redacted]!” Your hands are clutched together near your chest as you tell them this, flashing distorted and gorey images in their mind. The smile on his face seems a little more strained now, a spiral appearing on his shirt. Maybe giving them your name confused them. Then again, anyone who isn’t like you will only hear it as garbled glitching. You’re only hoping the more understandable name you’re allowing them to call you is enough.

“Are you doing anything after work?” You decide to try and go for it, hoping that maybe, just maybe he’ll say yes like he’s done a few times before. Besides, he said “No” in the previous day. So this time, now that you’re more normal, they should say yes.

“No… I’m not doing anything. Why do you ask?” He seems genuinely interested this time, leaving that fuzzy warmth to worm its way into your head. An odd gurgling noise escapes you, making their brows furrow in confusion as you suddenly leave. Behind you, just before you exist, you can hear a small “It was cute but in a creepy, stalkerish way… And a little weird… A me type of weird.” escape him. Their comments don’t sound disgusted however, they sound more like you’ve successfully gotten their curiosity paired with their attention.

It’s a few hours later that John leaves the gas station. You can feel your entire being shake with excitement, feeling the hope that his choices will lead to the correct ending; no more time-loops or reality-shifting needed. You’re quiet as you creep closer and closer to the oblivious person in front of you. You can hear their mumblings about “finally getting off work” combined with “can’t wait to sleep.”

“Hi,” You’re practically hovering behind him, staring with large pupils. Your hands are shaking as you clutch them near your stomach. You refrain from touching him in case you scare him away. An entire body shudder is an answer you receive; just faintly you can hear them swallow. “Oh… My bad. I didn’t think I’d frighten you so bad…” You give him an apologetic smile, despite not feeling sorry at all. Seeing any reaction from them only feeds your infatuation. Before he can even respond, you’re leaning in more, invading his space. “Can I come home with you? Please? We can.. We can get to know each other better! Have a relationship!” You’re coming on strong, you know you are, but you can barely hold in your desperation.

Your last sentence seems to surprise them, seeing that spiral on their shirt appear again. Maybe should reword it… “Like- Like a great friendship! Best friends!” Your hands are shaking so badly, forcing you to dig them into your gut to hide it. That doesn’t hide how your voice shakes as you trip over your words. They lick their lips, glancing away from you for a second to process your words.

“Alright… Yeah. Yeah, you can come over-” His pupils are large again, a barely-there flush slowly crawling up his neck and towards his face. Their words are cut off when the bus arrives. As soon as those eyes leave to look at the bus pulling up, you dart away. You have to make it to his apartment as fast as possible. You have to get there before they can. Ȳ̸̼̹̉̃͘Ǒ̴̯͐͛͠U̸͖̩̜͛ ̸̟̱̙͔͊H̵̑̕͜͝A̸͇̱̺͗͘V̷̨͖̗̗͒E̵̢͖̕͜ ̶̳̭̲̓T̵̮͔͖̗̈́̌O̵̙̹̹͈͌͒̓.̴̩̝̟̭͋̓ [7]

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

Unease, curiosity, and excitement waft to you from the entrance of John’s apartment. You made it just before they had, vibrating with a feeling of fear mixed with passion. Slowly, he carefully enters his apartment. The trash, including the ungodly smell of everything in the apartment, would usually turn people away but turning off your smell to some things, or even rewiring your own brain can make it smell like it’s a new sort of heavenly desert, helps you enjoy John’s scent and their unhygienic apartment.

“Anyone home..? [Redacted]? Anyone?” Hearing your name from those lips makes a wheezing sound from the build-up of emotions. The sound you’ve let escape you allows John to locate you easily in his living room. There’s a nest of both unwashed clothings paired with blankets made on the sofa.

“Hello, John!” You can feel your mouth salivate. You’re so close. So, so close. You can smell their anger, their shock. You’re confused by it but try to push on. He said you could come over! They shouldn’t be mad at you for doing just that! “It’s unfair, you know? So, very unfair!” You cry out, feeling your eyes start to water. The stress from so many time-loops, so many rejections, and constantly having to alter your looks taking its toll. “You’ve NEVER given me a chance! Never! Not ONCE.” The static garbles some words while enhancing others. “I did everything right! I did everything I thought you’d like! That you’d LOVE.” You see the person before you sweating slightly, brows furrowed in concentration. Maybe he to, is stressed from all these loops and finally feeling its effects like you. “I can be anything you want! Anything you like!” The more normal form you have shifts to a more distorted, uncanny one. Neither is your true form but the most humanoid you’ve ever been; all of it has been for them. So much energy. So much time. It’s all been put into what he wants or what they may find even remotely attractive.

Finally, you settle on the more uncanny form. You’re shaking with your stress. Sweat covers you layers, forcing your clothes to stick to your heated skin. The anxiety is creeping into your voice the longer John is silent. Your tears are so close to spilling over as you choke out your desperate question. “What’s wrong with me…? Don’t you love me?”

The silence seems to stretch on. John’s own stress seems to melt away as realization dawns on them. He blinks a few times, staring at you as everything falls into place. Maybe it’s your shaking. Or it could be the fact that you just poured your entire being into your rant but a smile makes its way onto their face. It reminds you of your own in a way. There are too many teeth, pupils dilated, together with the shaking of their entire being. “I do love you…” Their voice shakes with this declaration, breathing getting heavier. You can feel your pupils dilate and warmth flood your entire body. “Of course, I love you… But not when you pretend to be something else.” Be yourself? But that isn’t what John wants… No, it is. He’s saying it right now so they must mean it. “You don’t have to alter your appearance or your personality for me… It’ll all be fake then.” His eyes are wide, smile just as big as excitement courses through them. How could you not notice how unhinged he was? They have to be just like you! You had just pushed too fast, that was it! Made them lose interest too fast! “I remember the past loops… All of them. You’ve been trying for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Every day. I’ve been looping this every single day… Hoping! Hoping you’d say yes!” Your tears are finally rolling down your cheeks. You’re getting choked up, wanting the right answer so badly. Wanting to end the endless Ạ̶̏̐ͅ ̷̟̅̆͌̄G̷͖͌̋̓ͅ ̷̼̬̯̦̌̈́͘͠O̸̤͍͙͑́̈ͅ ̶̟͕̒̽͛N̷̡͙͉̾͆̇ ̸̧̻̮͋̆̄Ÿ̸̢̰̪́̽̕ [8] you’ve had to endure to get John to just yearn for you as you do him.

“We're just going to keep meeting like this, aren't we? It's just some endless loop…” There’s a pause as they finally make a decision. “So… We may as well see what happens then.” You feel your legs give out, the stress exploding. You grab your shirt close to your chest, sobbing in happiness on your knees. A genuine smile spreads across your face. Your entire being shakes as you feel the time loop ends. Finally. You finally achieved the Correct Ending.

A hand settles on your shoulder as John crouches down in front of you. It’s tight, grounding even. Your sobs don’t stop even when they sit in front of you. When the hand leaves, you look at him. His grin is shaking, alongside his body. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know why but you don’t care. You latch onto the man in front of you, gasping for air but also to get as much of his smell as you can. Your nails pierce his skin, making the wounds bleed, with how tight you hold onto them. This doesn’t bother them though as he latches onto you just like you’ve done. Their nails sinking into your own skin brings no blood. Only indents are left behind. Gentle static noises surround you both as your sobbing subsides. It’s more of a gentle buzzing as you let your form slump into John’s, letting it mould itself to his. No more time-loops or needing to shift reality to get John to love you anymore. Not when you finally have it.

KEYS:

[1] love

[2] long

[3] remember

[4] loving

[5] BAD ENDINGS

[6] _--_-_-_ 

[7] YOU HAVE TO.

[8] AGONY

Caught out.

Whenever they have both claimed to have been a victim of stalking and harassment, they have NEVER posted evidence. This is because the only thing they can say is evidence will prove they have been on our profiles, using a fake account, because they have been blocked on all forms of social media. Phil had retweeted posts about cheating and stalking on his personal profile (something Liam has both done). But we have never tagged them in stuff directly, we have never followed people Liam/Stacey know from social media accounts like they have. Funnily enough, the last communication with Liam in the group chat was him posting screenshots of my twitter profile saying I had unfriended Stacey. Because that apparently doesn't make him look weird or anything stalking one of my social media accounts that I've never followed him on.

I am posting evidence because I am so fed up of them twisting the narrative, I'm so fed up of them thinking I care about their every move, when in reality it's the other way round. Stalking my friends, stalking my profiles with fake accounts, when I block one account, they make a new one, this is especially the behaviour on Reddit. The only times I have interacted with them, is calling them out for their behaviour and saying to leave us alone, because they have done something to desperately get our attention, to get that much needed reaction to feed their craving of wanting us to know theyre still around. Any screenshots they provide from our public twitter profile, is AFTER we had them blocked, meaning they was using a fake account to obsessively keep an eye on us. Two people who claim to be so happy and not care about us blocking them and they're so in love with each other, yet he is so obsessed with his former ex friends wife, he has to make multiple fake accounts. It's not normal behaviour. I got rid of Twitter end of 2022 because I wanted this behaviour to stop, yet now he's turned to Reddit to do his stalking.

The day I deleted twitter was because I had blocked some accounts the night before, and I was watching to see if any of those accounts vanished, because they would make fake accounts and delete them once we had blocked them, for Stacey to then do a bio post saying "oh hey👋🏻" which is viewable on a block list. I made my cover photo a picture of Liam calling a girl sexy on Instagram, whilst he was in a relationship with Stacey, for her to delete her account, meaning she had only done the "oh hey" to get a reaction. As soon as she deleted the profile I then made and left my cover photo, to what it still is, calling out their behaviour and telling them to leave us alone.

It was a common thing on twitter where they would purposely do things to get a reaction, we had a couple profiles we was suspicious of that had interacted with us, but because we was so wary of their behaviour, we would just block any accounts that was freshly created, because we wanted nothing to do with them. When they so badly got the reaction they wanted from us, they would then do DARVO, which is Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender. So even though THEY did the thing for our attention, get a reaction which was mostly us saying leave us alone, then meant they could go around saying THEY was the victim, THEY was being stalked and harassed.

You know what’s weird? The misconception that Arya is only good at physical things like fighting. Before everyone else, only she & Jon figured out the Lannisters, seeing their classism for what it was. She rightfully befriends & defends the smallfolk, can figure out complex situations like the trap for her in King’s Lansing with the fame Stark soldiers, and survive war, hunger, and violence. And in Braavos, she is learning so much from languages, reading people, & even mummery and courtesy.

Right? It’s insane because she’s also not that good at fighting. She has barely trained with Needle and though she can kill a guy, it’s mostly wild and untamed with little form and she has not trained in a long time. But she’s super intuitive. Sure, Robb figured out Joffrey was a little shit, but only when they fought, and it took Bran longer to understand the same about the Frey boys. Meanwhile, Jon and Arya are here understanding their classism from the first. And her friendship with the smallfolk is something that Varys lists as a reason why Aegon should be king, so it’s clearly a wise thing.

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher's boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick, but Arya seemed to prefer his company to hers. - Sansa I, AGOT

We all remember this, yeah? Well, it’s just an extension of this:

Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. "Know the men who follow you," she heard him tell Robb once, "and let them know you. Don't ask your men to die for a stranger." At Winterfell, he always had an extra seat set at his own table, and every day a different man would be asked to join him. One night it would be Vayon Poole, and the talk would be coppers and bread stores and servants. The next time it would be Mikken, and her father would listen to him go on about armor and swords and how hot a forge should be and the best way to temper steel. Another day it might be Hullen with his endless horse talk, or Septon Chayle from the library, or Jory, or Ser Rodrik, or even Old Nan with her stories. Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father's table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. Fat Tom used to call her "Arya Underfoot," because he said that was where she always was. She'd liked that a lot better than "Arya Horseface." - Arya II, AGOT

This is the exact behaviour that seems to constitute a good lord or king, and good kings are wise, and part of wisdom is taking advice from people who know more than you. Chances are, other nobles with the exact same education and class biases will not know more than Arya or any other highborn, so getting to know these people are really how a lord gets to understand the people he rules and become wiser as a result. If you keep to your own class, you will never learn or truly understand anything. Arya understands this from her father’s lessons, and it clearly shows how wise she is. The fact that other characters talk about how good and wise this behaviour is (not talking about Arya, just generally) just confirms this.

"It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone. Every man I take into my service is a risk, I understand that, but how am I to win the Seven Kingdoms without such risks? Am I to conquer Westeros with one exile knight and three Dothraki bloodriders?" - Daenerys I, ASOS

Remember this? Same thing. Dany is defending her choice to keep Arstan and Strong Belwas, and if you’ll recall, that was a very good decision in deed. It’s only people like Sansa who view these people as beneath her which is an unwise mentality, and makes her comments about the smallfolk later feel so tone-deaf and ignorant.

And then there’s King’s Landing. For a start, Maegor killed everyone who built the Red Keep so no-one but the Targaryens would ever know the ins and outs, and yet Arya finds a way out by herself. She also sees through the Kingsguard trap with Meryn Trant, finds her way out of the castle, and sees through the thing with the boat which would probably convince most people.

When she saw the guardsmen on the third pier, in grey woolen cloaks trimmed with white satin, her heart almost stopped in her chest. The sight of Winterfell’s colors brought tears to her eyes. Behind them, a sleek three-banked trading galley rocked at her moorings. Arya could not read the name painted on the hull; the words were strange, Myrish, Braavosi, perhaps even High Valyrian. She grabbed a passing longshoreman by the sleeve. “Please,” she said, “what ship is this?” “She’s the Wind Witch, out of Myr,” the man said. “She’s still here,” Arya blurted. The longshoreman gave her a queer look, shrugged, and walked away. Arya ran toward the pier. The Wind Witch was the ship Father had hired to take her home … still waiting! She’d imagined it had sailed ages ago. Two of the guardsmen were dicing together while the third walked rounds, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Ashamed to let them see her crying like a baby, she stopped to rub at her eyes. Her eyes her eyes her eyes, why did …? Look with your eyes, she heard Syrio whisper. Arya looked. She knew all of her father’s men. The three in the grey cloaks were strangers. “You,” the one walking rounds called out. “What do you want here, boy?” The other two looked up from their dice. It was all Arya could do not to bolt and run, but she knew that if she did, they would be after her at once. She made herself walk closer. They were looking for a girl, but he thought she was a boy. She’d be a boy, then. “Want to buy a pigeon?” She showed him the dead bird. “Get out of here,” the guardsman said. Arya did as he told her. She did not have to pretend to be frightened. Behind her, the men went back to their dice. - Arya V, ASOS

It’s clear Cersei came up with this plan and it almost fools her, so if not for Syrio she might have fallen for it and gotten herself captured. Very clever of her. Also, I didn’t want to bring Sansa into this but it’s always her stans parroting this dumb Arya-is-stupid-and-masculine narrative so let’s be real here: I think Arya absolutely would have survived in King’s Landing based on evidence from the books, but Sansa would not if the roles were reversed, purely because of the simple fact that there is no way Sansa would have escaped King’s Landing to begin with. Sansa, who despises the smallfolk and thinks it’s vulgar to spend time with them and doesn’t care Jory died because his replacement is more handsome, would not have known that they were not Stark men. She would have seen the cloaks and the ship and run up to them telling them her name and she would be captured. Not only is knowing the people who serve you a wise way to rule, it also saved Arya’s life here. 

And I can’t believe it still needs to be pointed out that she didn’t survive in the Riverlands because of luck. She didn’t fight her way out of every situation, which would have gotten her killed. She listened, she learned, and she knew how to survive in an environment where even plain silence could mean your death. The way she’s learning in Braavos also speaks for itself. My girl is learning/knows 5 languages!

Arya Stark is really fucking clever guys!

Kyuso wa cheese no yume wo miru: extensive manga review

Tormented and explicit, sharp and sophisticated: what Mizushiro Setona's masterpiece really is.

Warning: minor spoilers ahead. "I want to read something erotic and violent": this is what Mizushiro Setona's editor asked her, echoing the request of their chief editor when assigning to the mangaka a story for the supplement of the Josei magazine Judy, meant to be read by an adult female target: "I don't expect you to write a nice story. You have other skills you can count on. You can narrate about gay people, for instance, or about sadomasochism."

Starting from the first casual incursion of Mizushiro-sensei into the world of Boys' Love, between the years 2004 and 2006 Kyūso wa Cheese no Yume o Miru (窮鼠はチーズの夢を見 - The cornered mouse dreams of cheese) was born and defined; it is one of the most beautiful and intense stories ever written about such a genre and beyond, which did even receive excellent notes from the well acclaimed Takemiya Keiko-sensei of the renowned Group 24. Starting with these premises, one can already understand how Mizushiro-sensei, who was not a master of Boys' Love back then, has nonetheless been able to offer an excellent tale that transcends the borders of genres and ranges over way beyond what it had been asked her: the story had been initially conceived as a few chapters later compiled in one tankobon, but it eventually came back on the pages of Judy with a new series of chapters. These ones have also been later published, three years later, in a sequel tankobon titled Sōjo no Koi wa Nido Haneru (俎上の鯉は二度跳ねる - The carp on the chopping block jumps twice). After the renewed interest offered to Otomo and to the cunning Imagase's story, that the live action movie announcement awakened, the new manga chapter Hummingbird Rhapsody has been added to the whole franchise, which is included in the recently revised Japanese edition of the manga.

"Imagase... I'm scared of you...!"

"And I'm... scared of you, too."   There's however not only violence and eroticism in this intricate story, and such a definition would actually mean to simplify way too much what it portrays, not to mention it would not fit exactly what the author was actually able to convey into it; other than the most obvious themes and elements, many others way more implicit and elaborate ones can be found there. We can even have a hint of that by peeking at the cover illustration of the volume, where a languid surface does not betray the contradiction of the soul. We can see an elegant portrait of the two main characters, who both hide all but dignified emotions inside them; a very accurate mirror of such a picture, which graphically reminds us of the previous editions of the manga, is the mind of the thirty years old Otomo Kyoichi after his encounter with Imagase. Otomo is a married adult man, leading an apparently impeccable life: he has good looks, polite manners and a nice job. He is gentle and esteemed by his colleagues and is able to make the many women crossing his path sigh from expectation. He cannot resist women either, that is why his life is an endless sequence of cheating on his wife. He reckons they are of no importance, at least until his wife hires the private eye Imagase Wataru to investigate upon his possible infidelities. Imagase is no new man in Otomos' life, being a kohai within the tennis club at university: he proposes to Otomo to be silent with his wife, in exchange for the heated make-out session that he never dared asking before, despite his being a unprejudiced homosexual guy having a crush on Otomo since forever. After the end of Otomo's wedding, though, the intimate encounters between the two men do not stop at all; they are pushed towards a fierce depth instead, symbols of a spiral of lust and psychological turmoil from which Otomo cannot willingly go back any more. "I am no good one."

"I know this. Bad natured men like you are the worst. Do you think that everyone is looking for that perfect person? You can't fall in love with anyone but that one person?"

"Someday, you'll find true love, too. The time will come when you can't help the feelings that well up inside you and you'll be carried away."

The themes and the premises are taken from various undoubtedly not new Boys' Love clichés; Mizushiro-sensei makes skillfully use of them to plumb the human soul as she does in many other works of her, making the story evolve quickly into something way different and way wider than what the numerous and explicit sex scenes might make us think at first. It takes a doting and obsessive homosexual guy into the life of some apparently happy man like Otomo in order to make the latter understand that his marriage is merely an empty shell, built with no true nor deep feelings to live an ordinary life. The encounter with Imagase, though, forces Otomo to think back deeply about his own actions and the meaning to give to his own life, until he gets to understand that despite his true gentleness, he has never cared for other people's feelings at all.

The relationship with Imagase makes his worst side come to the surface: jealous impulses, selfishness and possessiveness, unsuspected masochistic and yet dominating preferences, obscure compulsions and a never missing inclination towards all sorts of temptations. Otomo is no role model nor someone to praise and yet, he's neither a man whose submissive personality can be easily blamed. Such a personality is a spectrum of a lid hiding a lot of things, a reflection of our own fearful and insecure behaviour, our own incapability of getting to call ourselves into question until the moments, those surprising and unexpected moments, that are to change life for real. That these two lovers embody a strong universal value is further suggested by the choice of the Japanese kanjis with which their names are written: Mizushiro-sensei identifies Otomo Kyoichi (大伴恭一) with the definition of 'partner' itself, a potential alter ego of each of us; she entrusts Imagase Wataru (今ヶ瀬渉, from the kanjis of 'quickness', 'crossing', 'involvement' and 'human relations') with the importance of getting to catch the 'carpe diem', the fleeting moment. Should we were to play with the language a little bit, we would find out that the union of the two main characters would lead us to the meaning of a 'relationship with a partner', the play of the cat with its little mouse happening here and now, the moment that we are to live in every single instant.

"You're kidding?! I cannot believe it… You can't decide?! Between a woman... or a man?!” - Natsuki -

"Maybe Imagase is right... maybe I still have to know what true love it. Next month, I’ll turn 30."

Otomo meets a long series of women, each of whom is identified by a definite face and a marked, strong personality. Each of them leaves a vivid notch into Otomo's life; and yet, no one of these figures is able to open a gash into his soul. The true Otomo is unfathomable to anyone, himself included, just like he himself can finally understand after the new encounter with Imagase breaks the quiet surface of his existence. The desirable man that Otomo is in his colleagues' eyes, through Imagase's cynical and revealing gaze he proves to be none other than a failed seducer, a man devoid of lash and decisiveness, a figure suddenly insecure even about what the true and intense physical pleasure is and how to gain it. It is Imagase who makes the miracle, intercepting his senpai's emotional black hole, and the latter finally manages to find out where the borders of his own self lay and how to humbly face his own limitations and inner being. This does not happen thanks to a man, nor thanks to a good guy, but rather because of a tempting snake who exploits Otomo's weaknesses with a cheeky and direct attitude towards him; by acting like so, Imagase takes a vengeance towards his own young self, first of all, the one who had been unable to face with sincerity the object of his adoration, back then. "No matter how sweet he might be, he is war away, like the moon."

His impetuous whims and his sensual attentions take the lid off Otomo's soul in the deep and they produce the most unexpected of effects, by reversing the parts of this play: Otomo, the one who never even thought he would were to find himself one day on the verge of turning 30 years old by asking himself about the true nature of love, becomes fond of the weird daily life established with Imagase, and he adapts himself to such cohabitation with surprising rapidity. He becomes more and more aware of a homosexual relationship in which he, however not knowing how to move, goes on with the cautiousness, the tenderness and the care he had never reserved to any other person before, in his whole life. He even gets to question himself what it is that truly determines the happiness of a couple, both in the short and medium-long term. As for Imagase, he teaches his senpai how to increase the physical pleasure in a more and more intense way, making him find out what offering someone unconditional love means. Someone who is clearly an imperfect one in all his weaknesses, but at the same time someone who is loved for the one he is, and not just because he embodies the ideal of an unattainable perfect man.

As the relationship with Otomo evolves, though, it is Imagase slowly losing the control he had on the whole situation, as he lavishes his spasmodic need for affection -also made up of a sometimes exasperating and childish attitude-  on a story born out of a youthful crush later evolved in true and heartbreaking love, against every possible prevision.  

"I'm just eating away your current existence. I can't make you happy."

"I'll decide whether or not I'm happy. We're both so selfish."

That is why within the play of the cunning black cat with his naive mouse, it is no obvious at all who the real prey or the predator are; quite on the contrary, the roles are repeatedly overturned, both on a psychological and on a sexual level, in a turn-up which is mostly unprecedented as for what Boys' Love works are concerned: as the pages become more daring, there's a parallel growth of the sexual purse power that each of these main characters can use towards one another. A strong and undermining power. Playing tag, letting go, keeping on running after each other once again: all of those are demonstration of a love both childish and adult-like in its elements, a overwhelming love taken to the limit of the obsession, a deep affection that while looking straight into reality, forces both men to ask themselves how much they are willing to leave back of their own selfishness in exchange for an improper relationship, and yet a fulfilling and indispensable one. That is why it is equally truly fitting, the choice of borrowing the name of animals for the titles of the chapters, and these very same animals appears as 'guest-stars' inside the story itself: from a frame hanging at a restaurant to a lighter herald of jealousies, there is no similarity more proper than fish, cats, snakes, owls and butterflies to suggest us behaviours that are to recall the most primeval and animal-like instincts of the human beings. Weaving traps and spider webs: those mean, sleazy and petty acts that people also do when they're in love. "The obstacle is you. And so am I." The frame of this symbolism closes with a gaze looking up at the cover illustration, where the portraits of animals silently stand out in the background behind the main characters. At the same time, such a gaze looks suggestively up at the moon: the Romeo and Juliet described by Shakespeare invoked the moon for an eternal oath, while the Japanese writer Natsume Soseki in his famous 'Tsuki ga kirei, desu ne?' (the moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?) metaphorically used the moon for a declaration of love. Mizushiro-sensei entrusts the white satellite with Otomo and Imagase's most unspeakable thoughts, for which the moon so becomes a silent leitmotif, as if it was a sensual tokonoma opening inside the story for all those people who can see beyond it: a sort of a story in the story, like a delicate, deep, subtle and intimate alcove. It goes beyond saying that every single dialogue of Kyuso wa cheese no yume wo miru manga is either enigmatic and cheeky and equally provoking and misleading: what we do reckon we understand about Otomo and Imagase, through their own words, gets later regularly denied by other facts. With thick lines and dialogues that are to tell us the very contrary of what they actually intend to convey, we cannot help but rely then on the inner voices of the many Otomos in his mind, in order to understand the nude truth: the white Otomo, the black and the grey one can maybe remind us of the concept behind the Pixar movie Inside Out, but Kyuso's one is by far forerunner of the latter. Mizushiro-sensei will make excellent use of such theme again by exploring it fully, and not without a subtle humour, in her following Nōnai Poison Berry manga; at the same time, the intricate juxtaposition of human beings and animals comes back to life in the well appreciated Shoujo manga Afterschool Nightmare, while the ultimate aim to attribute to ourselves and to love becomes the core of the romantic comedy Shitsuren Chocolatier, winner of the 36th Kodansha Manga Award - Shojo/Josei and also nominated for the Tezuka Award in 2014. Other than a fully substantial work per se, Kyuso wa cheese no yume wo miru can be also seen as a sort of effective experimental testing ground for the mangaka herself and her various best works.

"You think that's acceptable?!"

"Acceptable to whom?"

"To society!"

"You're overly self-conscious, as usual... society doesn't care about your sex life."

Mizushiro-sensei's style distinguishes itself for a modern and state-of-the-art graphic, an elegant and refined one, and Kyuso makes no exception: the peculiar design, so clean without any trace of deburring, gets softened as time and years passing by, as we can see by comparing the drawings made for the first chapters of the story with those from the Melancholy Butterfly onwards, and until the recent Hummingbird Rhapsody. Here the lines are so delicate and thin that they almost suggest us they could literally flake off under the piercing gaze of the reader. By leafing through the tankobon, all we can see are tidy pages, sometimes with no balloons at all, thus resulting in a huge expressive performance. The design is sharp and essential as for what details are concerned, but it is no minimalistic one; it is accurate in the depiction of bodies in every detail and characterized by a certain subtle sensuality, this latter marking not only the most rated scenes but also able to permeate the whole work instead. As used as she is in narrating with extraordinary ability about twisted and askew themes and exploring the human psyche with related sexual and gender identity issues, Mizushiro Setona offers us pages with highly aesthetic value, thrilling and bold ones, not without a sort of a certain aesthete voyeurism when depicting lovemaking scenes, however never vulgar at all. They manage to effectively evoke with a surprising visual impact, instead, the devastating passions from which both the characters and the readers end up being shaken and overwhelmed from. The violence this manga is impregnated with is mostly about its psychological insight, rather than the physical one, sex being however undoubtedly an inescapable element of the complicated events binding Otomo to Imagase: it is a key of the story but no ultimate reason of it. That is why we cannot help but follow, almost in a state of trance, how this couple is eventually able to get to intimately know each other by starting from a kiss born out of a blackmail, and thenquickly slackening every inhibition under the sheets through reversal of positions, seme/uke roles and sadomasochistic implications.

"Do you love me? Or after you got a taste of being loved so passionately are you pretending to be my lover as compensation for my feelings?"

How such a sentimental-psychological tangle can be outlined into a story constantly in balance between drama and comedy, keeping a perfect balance between each of its many faces always, without ever falling nor losing a thing, the reader can find it one page after another, surprising himself together with Otomo and Imagase in a thick and tormented love story, terribly authentic as much as its complicated and complex characters are. The pressing storyboard does now allow any rest nor break nor peace: accusations and skirmishes rebound from one man to the other in a never-ending evolution and involution of the personalities of the characters, that is until the unsettling ending; when the time of the games finishes and infantilism stops, another moment inevitably comes. The moment when the face of the adult we want to show to other people outside, goes finally and fully matching the inner essence of us as human beings. That very moment when one can take responsibility towards its own self.

"Poking holes in happiness makes you unhappy.

Nobody understands what I'm going through.

No one knows about the happiness I got to feel despite navigating into an ocean of doubts."

Otomo' sexism, while appreciating what Imagase offers him despite never intimately accepting it’s a man providing him with such a pleasure, vanishes in the very moment he gives his lover a vintage Château Pétrus bottle: it is one of the finest French wines in the whole world, thus suggesting his precious man the implicit idea of being an equally unique and irreplaceable one. Carrying on with a relationship where people can look at each other's eye and discuss, offering our whole self not in order to give back something we received but rather to go beyond our own self, it is then something quite different from seeking the pleasure of a night without any involvement: it is not the same indecisive man he was before, the one for whom appearances in society stops being an excuse, the man suddenly questioning himself how it might be wooing a man rather than a woman, or whether the relationship between two homosexual guys might even be more complete and deep than the one a heterosexual man might start with someone belonging to a ‘different’ universe from his own one.

What is love, then, if not the innate strength that allows us to see beyond our stiff self-esteem and pride, in order to overcome our limitations and arrive and reach the most intimate recesses of the one soul we naturally tend? And it is not only the Boys' Love theme per se to be central in this story, quite rather something that transcends every gender limitation to virtually embrace every kind of love, regardless of any possible colour or legitimacy. And that is because a different way of loving is no inadequate love nor a "less" love. However merely brushing LGBTQ+ themes, however never aspiring to become a gender manifesto, the Kyuso wa cheese no yume wo miru manga is able to outline some of these aspects with great perspicacity; there's then the excellent portrait offered to the weaknesses of the human being, slave of a need for affection as much hidden as obscure and here translated into the relentlessness of a physical and lacerating love. It does confirm to us how much the social and psychological themes are here treated with crude realism and keen sensibility. In a perfect synthesis of the Yin and Yang elements, Otomo and Imagase's greedy, mean and liar characters are flecked in a sometimes merciless way, not to mention the moment they mean to hurt other people but end up cleaving their own self instead first: it is a couple of uncomfortable characters the one we have here, someone with whom it is definitely not a pleasure to identify ourselves with, someone we wish never to meet, if any. Someone that nonetheless chooses never to give up when in front of human frailty, and that is why these characters end up being unusually authentic, charming and unforgettable ones. " I was hoping, someday, that by sharing my way of loving with you, you would have done the same to me one day." - Imagase -

 "Ugh... I don't lose my temper like this with women." - Otomo -

The new revised All in One Edition reunites the two original volumes into one, which comes with a few color pages in the introduction and the brand new extra Hummingbird Rhapsody chapter. As for what the censorship is concerned, the original pages have actually been partially edited in a very few graphic details: it has been Mizushiro-sensei herself to provide them at the request of the Japanese publisher for the revised edition, which is meant to remove every explicit content starting from 28th January 2020. That happens in order to make the manga available also to a younger target, as the live action movie received a R15+ rating. Censorship involves however only the depiction of male genitals in a few specific, small and delimited portions of the pages, mainly in the first chapters of the story, and does not apply anywhere else. Female nipples and breasts, naked bodies and rated love making are left totally untouched, and so are the original dialogues, the true quintessence of this manga. Even the revised edition presents the harsh and explicit tones of the original pages and there is none of the messages conveyed by the manga that has been damaged or watered down by the re-print. "Love is divine punishment."

Carrying a perfect balance between seduction and feelings, the Kyuso wa cheese no yume wo miru manga is a challenging, demanding and intense reading. It is a mature story filled with issues, a complex and provoking one; it is compulsory to get near this story with the utmost attention, receiving though a crescendo of emotions that the reader will feel entangled with until the very last page. The Italian poet Giacomo Leopardi would have probably defined it a "matto e disperatissimo" love, a 'mad and utterly desperate' one. Like a river in flood sweeping everything away, the need for getting to know how to slacken control of ourselves and how to gain it back: educating the passion in a relationship is complicated to the point of seeming almost unmanageable.

Love in daily life is quite a different issue from the feelings of a romance novel, an engagement that forces people to swallow bitter bites sometimes, an endless tension towards the other and towards ourselves. In this story that happens to painfully disturbs the deepest part of the heart, we do not know who is the one leading the game; both characters here overthrow the typical Boys' Love canons, an audacious, cocky and authentic couple ready to question itself always.

A story that cannot be missed for all the lovers of the Boys' Love genre, Kyuso wa cheese no yume wo miru is also quite appropriate for all those one searching for an atypical love story, a strong and nonetheless sensual one, sublimated by a masterful introspection and a very welcome hint of subtle and stinging humour. It is a work dealing with many interesting and complicated issues, though never boasting about none of its many qualities.

A story that knows no limitation and no borders. One of those volumes to keep on the shelf of our own personal bookcase with the utmost care, to take up every now and then in our hands and find new shades of meaning after every new re-reading.

**

Originally written and posted in Italian @ Animeclick

MSA time travel idea (part 28)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24,  25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV 

Part 29: here

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VIVI POV

The sky is overcast, darkening grey, blocking out most of the afternoon sun. A strong wind is funnelling around the cars and buildings, blowing hair over her face and eyes. Vivi pauses, narrowly avoiding a cyclist who appears suddenly on her left. She shuffles about restlessly, hurrying forward once the coast is clear, dodging any remaining pedestrians and drivers between her and the car park. Mystery, to his credit, takes the jostling like a champ, sitting patiently in her arms. She hates the thought of leaving him alone in the truck for any length of time, but she doesn’t have his lead and doesn’t trust him enough to just leave him outside the hospital. No matter how well behaved a dog he is, he is still a dog.

The area around the hospital is thankfully familiar enough that she can cut down a side street and reach the truck well before the estimated ten minutes are up. When Arthur had first gotten his licence, they’d spent a lot of time loitering around the open mall, none of them really having enough money to buy anything.

She places Mystery on the ground while she searches her shoulder bag for keys. A loud growl has her pausing, attention snapping down.  That’s a sound she rarely hears. Vivi begins scanning for whatever set her dog off. Of course, she immediately spots the shifty-looking man leaning up against a car on the row directly across from her. Angry brown eyes meet her blue ones. Any serious concern is stayed when the man pushes forward to exhibit a pronounced limp. Arm in a sling, with a heavily bandaged torso just visible beneath an equally ragged leather vest and jacket, this guy has been on the losing side of one to many fights.

“Hey. You got a moment?” Is grunted at her. Mystery growls. She glares, trying to seam as unfriendly as possible. Vivi definitely doesn’t have time for whatever this is.

“Saw you arrive with that dude in purple, sportin the purple hair-do. He doesn’t work at that weird-ass diner in Tempo, does he? Called ‘Pepper and salt’ or whatever.”

Okay, the angry, injured stranger is asking about Lewis. Not what she had expected.

“Do I know you?”

“No. But you might know the guy I’m after.  Goes by the name of Arthur. That ring any bells?”

Vivi turns, planting herself forward a step, giving the stranger a thorough once over. She doesn’t recognise him.  Any Tempo resident would know the name of the Pepper diner, so he is not a local. Was this a distant relative of Arthur’s? He looks nothing like Arthur, but that’s not an indicator of much.

“Who?” She plays dumb.

“Average height. Blond hair. Works at Kingsman Mechanics. Knows that dude you were just with…” The man continues, irritated, making a sharp gesture towards the hospital. Vivi is reminded that Lewis is waiting for her and that she should cut this short. Unfortunately, with all the Arthur related mysteries happening around her, she is now very curious.

“Don’t know him.” She says shortly, “But… I can pass a message to the guy I’m with if it’s about something important.” If this is a relative, then the timing suggested he’d be here for Lance. But the mysterious stranger hadn’t asked after Lance.  Only Arthur and Lewis. That’s weird.

An increasingly angry scowl, “I’m after a mutual acquaintance actually.”

“An acquaintance of Arthur’s?” How many shifty characters did Arthur know? This guy, and apparently one more? Was this guy the source of Arthur’s odd behaviour?

“Yeah.”

“What sort of acquaintance?” She pushes.

“The not nice kind.”

Why does that sound super ominous? “You want to elaborate on that a bit?”

The fact that this mysterious man is acting intentionally vague is doing nothing except increase her interest. It is almost too convenient that he is here right now. Mentally, she apologies to Lewis. Hopefully, he will be fine without her for a while longer because she is definitely going to be more than ten minutes.

There is more suspicious glaring which transitions into an appraisal.  Vivi waits expectantly, unfazed. Eventually, mystery stranger pulls out a cigarette pack, puts one between his teeth, lights it with his good arm and offers the box in her direction.

“No thanks.” She rejects promptly.

A shrug and a grumbled question follows her response. “You ever been to the old mines out near that cave system? The one a few hours drive from here?”  

“No.” Though not through lack of trying.  She had been itching to check them out for ages, but the trip always got postponed. A big source of industry, before a series of accidents forced them to close, many people swore the cave systems around the mines were haunted. The caves had been a scheduled last stop before home on their road trip. Before they had replanned everything anyway.

“Your purple friend. He ever go up there?”

“No? What does that have to do with a mutual acquaintance of Arthur’s?”

“Do you believe in the occult? Like ghosts, demons and whatever,” The mystery stranger continues, indifferent to her confusion.

“Ah, sorry?” All the theories she’d been forming, from Arthur being a member of a biker gang to on drugs of some sort, are derailed.  

“I’m tracking a demon.” A pause to inhale smoke. “A body snatcher or some sort. Tricky to pin down. They have this nasty habit of wiping out their host’s family and friends. If your purple friend has any strong connection to Arthur… I’d keep an eye out.”

“That’s crazy…Why would I believe that?” Even as she speaks, Vivi’s thoughts are shifting to her Gran. All her life, Gran had told her wild stories, spurring her on her fascination with the supernatural and mysteries. Until right this second, she has never had any real proof of any of it.  

“Believe it. Don’t believe it. Couldn’t give less of a shit about what ya do. But, possessed or not, this guy Arthur, he’s in collusion with it.” The stranger growls the final word like a curse, “So you go ask that purple friend of yours if he’s noticed strange behaviour. Like Arthur’s not himself. Keeping secrets. Lying. Actin odd. If he thinks of anything or knows where Arthur is, then give this number a call.”

A small card is shoved out towards her. It has a single phone number running across its centre.  One last scowl, an irritated grumble, and the man turns, limping away. Vivi quickly moves forward a step, reaching out to catch his arm. The wet fabric causes her to pause.

“You’re bleeding,” She states. The injury must be severe if it is soaking through leather. “There’s a hospital right there you know.”

The man pauses, shrugging her off, “Don’t got no time for hospitals.”

He gives her another hard glare, grunting, “A body snatcher jumps through physical touch. If the eyes are green…try not to look at em. Run, give me a call, it’s your choice. Now get off. Got places to be.” An aggressive step and the man is stalking away, pulling his jacket close.

“Wait. What do you mean run?”

Crap. That can’t be IT. She needs more. What did any of that even mean? Body snatcher? Demons? She’d read a dozen or so books on creatures similar. But those were all myths, legends and a few biblical tales. Nothing real…

She glances down at the card and finds it weirdly familiar. Frick, frick, frick. She recognises the number.  Hurriedly, Vivi pulls open the truck door, yanking Arthur’s shoulder bag from the where they’d pilled their belongings. The cab is a safer location for storage then the truck bed. In a rush, she rips free the stack of paper containing the referral. Amongst the pile is a plain white business card. Half crumbled from where it has been shoved into Arthur’s back pocket at some point, it has a single number across the middle. Vivi compares the two cards. The numbers match. Was this proof?  Vivi quickly reverses back down to the pavement, scanning the carpark, but the man has disappeared among the many shoppers.

Her mind cycles through a whole new avenue of possibilities. Her dad had never approved of her interest in the supernatural. Increasingly unsupportive and displeased whenever she mentioned her hobby, the paranormal-themed road trip had been an ongoing source of tension, made worse with her mom on one of her extended business trips. Vivi had been looking forward to escaping for a bit. Then the plans for the ‘supernatural’ theme had changed. She hadn’t told her dad. It would have been like admitting defeat somehow. What if there was an actual reason behind his extreme dislike?

“I’ll be back soon,” She assures Mystery, picking him up and plonking him in the truck cab. She turns to chase after the stranger, moving in the direction she thinks he might have gone. Mystery barks twice, and she ignores him. Mid-step, she pulls out her phone to dial Lewis and give him an update. In the process, she notices a stack of missed calls. All from Lewis. That didn’t bode well. Worried, she dials.

“Where are you!?” Lewis answers and he is panicked.

Vivi freezes, one leg extended. There is a long string of barely legible words as Lewis mixes English and Spanish in his rush to speak. Vivi immediately about faces, pivoting to hasten in the opposite direction, back past the truck, towards the hospital. Lewis sounds upset. Really upset. She needs to get to him.

“Lewis. Too fast. Take a breath and tell me what’s wrong?”

There is a low intake from across the line.

“Where are you?” Lewis is understandable now, but his tone still cracks a bit on the question.

“I’m on my way back…Are you okay?” She hits the main road and doesn’t bother checking for traffic, a horn blares, but she doesn’t stop.

“Arthur’s not here,” Lewis confirms her fears, and then proceeds to increase them a hundred-fold, “I found the right room. Lance was admitted early this morning for multiple stab wounds. I went straight in once I knew where it was.” Another inhale. “Lance is…was…I don’t know …he wasn’t breathing. I hit the emergency call button because not breathing is definitely a bad thing.”

The hospital entrance looms over her, “What do you mean, not breathing?”

“A lot of doctors came rushing in. I got kicked out, so I’m not sure what’s going on, but it looked serious. How far away are you?”

“I’m approaching the entrance now.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

The phone goes dead. Vivi spares it a worried glance, running the rest of the way, hurrying past the security guard and through the sliding glass doors. Lewis is weaving around to get to her. His height makes him easy to spot, bobbing along through the streams of people entering and exiting the hospital.

He rushes right up and into her, wrapping her in a hug, and lifting her off the ground. Oxygen momentarily vacates her lungs. The worry fire, still burning in her stomach, is almost suffocating now. Doubt and fear wiggles past her defences, settling in her chest.

“I thought you’d left,” Lewis mutters, just audible with his face smooshed into the shoulder of her blue cardigan. Vivi almost flinches. She refocuses.

“I would never do that,” She avows. Geez, she’s dumb. Of course, Lewis would be sensitive about missing calls, considering the current circumstances. “Never.”

Lewis just hums in acknowledgement.

“Sorry.” He mutters and inhales again, pulling back and freeing a hand to scratch the back of his head.  Lewis and Arthur. Two peas in a pod when it came to apologising for stuff that wasn’t their fault.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry as well. I should have called.” Should have but didn’t, too wrapped up in solving the Arthur mystery. Now she just has a bunch more questions.

“What happened with Uncle Lance?”  She asks again. They relocate to sit on the blue plastic seats which line the hospital’s foyer. No longer blocking the main entrance, she listens to Lewis quietly run through the harrowing experience of finding Lance, practically dead in his bed. He’s visibly shaken, and Vivi waits patiently while he works through the facts. Her mind wanders to that odd moment almost two weeks ago, when she’d accidentally scared Arthur on his way back from the toilet. For a split second, she hadn’t recognised the expression on his face. It had been weirdly uncanny. At the time, she had chalked it up to nausea and headaches.

‘A habit of wiping out their host’s family and friends.’  

If Lance had been admitted in the morning, then it would have been impossible for Arthur to make the attack. ‘Not breathing’ could have a bunch of rational explanations. She would need to talk to a nurse or doctor before deciding on anything. Besides, Arthur’s eyes were golden brown, not green.

‘Possessed or not, this guy, Arthur, he’s in collusion with it. Strange behaviour.’

Conjecture and coincidence.  What hard proof does Vivi have? Arthur acting out of sorts? He had been through rough patches of antisocial behaviour before. A phone number on a card? That just signalled that the mysterious stranger had met Arthur previously. More importantly, how did that tie into Arthur’s sudden Lewis aversion?

“What do you think we should we do?”  Lewis breaks her speculation. He has his hands clasped above his knees, and it is leaning forward to stare at the hallway leading towards the wards. Nervous silence prevails while they both work to possess new developments.  She fidgets on the seat, glancing about the hospital for an answer. Near the reception desk, a frazzled nurse is talking and gesturing in Lewis’s direction.

“Wait for news on Lance.” That’s all they could do. Maybe, hopefully, Arthur would make an appearance.

Part 29: here

She Makes Me Sin - Chapter 17 (Role Reversal AU - Ben SoloxOC)

Warnings: This chapter is pure porn, Blowjobs, First time blowjobs, Voyeurism, Punishments, Hux needs to learn how to behave, Face fucking, Hair pulling, Language, Kylux, Dom/Sub relationships, Cum swallowing, Dirty talk, Edging, Edge play, Crying, Alcohol, Restraints 

Just want to thank the amazing @jana-banana-fana for helping me out with the second half of the chapter. 

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. If you liked what you read please leave some kudos or maybe a reblog or comment. Consider hitting the follow button too for more content.

Chapter 17

Ben’s P.O.V

Cora had called me to her bedroom for the evening and I was looking forward to it. Then again, I looked forward to any time I got to spend with her. I think I was starting to feel more towards her. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that time when we’d trained together, the way she’d clung to me, how relaxed she’d seemed. I didn’t want to admit my feelings to her if they weren’t returned and it was impossible to tell with Cora. When I thought I was doing well, a punishment would come out of nowhere. I wanted to know how she planned on punishing Hux after he kicked me under the table. I wanted him to be sorry. I hated him as much as he hated me, but I didn’t go around throwing punches. I knocked on Cora’s door, which she promptly answered. She stood there in a short latex dress, one that pushed her breasts together and her hips more defined. Her hair was down this time.

She let me in and closed the door behind her. I froze. Why was he here again? General Hux sat on the end of the bed, his hair not slicked back like usual. It looked weird to see him slightly casual and unkempt. It made him look younger, less intimidating. He even offered me a soft smile. Something was going, and I didn’t like it. He never smiled. “I thought we’d be alone tonight,” I turned to Cora. “Well I still need to punish the General for hurting you and he needs to work on his apologies,” Cora explained. Cora motioned for me to sit down, whilst she poured herself a glass of red wine. She then took a seat in the corner of the room, crossing one leg over the other. Both of them seemed to know something I didn’t, making me more cautious. Hux shifted so I could sit with him. All of my instincts were telling me to leave, but the fear of being punished was stronger.

Hux got to his feet and stood in front of me before kneeling. I frowned, where the fuck was this going? Why was he doing this? Hux kneeling in front of me…something was off. What had she done to him? Hux met my gaze, not a hint of anger or irritation on his face. He placed a hand on my thigh, a little too high for my liking. I wanted to kick him off, tell him to stop…but why was I curious? Why was I not completely repulsed by his touch? Hux assessed my reaction and because I didn’t protest, he continued. His hand moved up higher, until he was rubbing my cock through my pants. I jumped back, nope. This was not happening. Cora giggled at my reaction, taking a sip of her wine. “He’s not going to bite Ben,” she spoke. “That’s not…I’m not…” “Gay? I know, you don’t have to be. Besides if you don’t accept the Generals apology, I’ll have to find another punishment for him. Perhaps he’d like to give the troops a morale boost by being their personal cum dump,” Cora said as if it were nothing.

Hux stiffened at the idea, a hint of fear in his eyes. He met my gaze, pleading with me to accept his apology. He didn’t need to be punished that severely. I guess I had no choice but to help him out. I forced myself to sit back where I was, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. It seemed in that moment there was a sort of mutual understanding between Hux and I. As if we wanted to help each other out of the current situation. I wanted to give him the easier punishment and he wanted to make this easier for me to accept and deal with. I nodded my consent and Hux started rubbing me through the thin layers of material once more. At first it felt awkward, like both of us were waiting for something to happen. My body began to react. I found myself liking the way he touched me even it was so wrong in my head.

Hux started to undress me, discarding of the simple clothes Cora had provided me with. I sat there naked and feeling awkward. I avoided Hux’s gaze, turning my attention back to Cora. She seemed happy so far, she hadn’t needed to intervene again. Cora smiled at me, seemingly proud of how well I was taking this. Hux’s mouth brought me out of my thoughts. “Fuck,” I said aloud. Hux continued to take my cock in his mouth with more ease than I expected. I was surprised at how good it felt. It didn’t feel much different from Cora’s mouth around me. Although, dare I say it there seemed to be a hint more skill from Hux. I guess this wasn’t his first time. He took me all the way down, only gagging a little. Although the gagging felt good, the way his throat tightened around the head. I groaned, gripping the bed sheets.

Hux hollowed his cheeks, sucking harder. I cursed again, my hand finding its way into his hair. He didn’t seem to mind, continuing to suck my cock. Each time he went back up, his tongue would flick over the sensitive head, forcing more sounds from me. Cora came over, wanting to watch closer. “There’s that mouth that got you through all those ranks so fast,” she taunted Hux. He ignored her comment, taking me all the way down once more. My hips bucked a little, causing him to gag again. Cora kneeled beside me on the bed, kissing at my neck and shoulders, whilst her hands stroked over my chest. I closed my eyes, everything felt so good from my cock in Hux’s mouth to Cora’s touch and kiss. It felt right.

Cora’s lips ghosted over mine teasingly. I reached for her, needing more. I needed to cum. “Please, please let me cum,” I whined. “Such a good boy to remember your manners. Cum, fill the Generals mouth,” Cora smirked. Hux continued the pace, doing all he could to make me finish. A few more strokes and I spilled into his mouth with his name on my lips. Hux pulled off my cock, swallowing my load without so much as a grimace. I lay back on the bed, still coming down from my high, my head reeling. I’d just let General Hux suck my cock. Cora wiped her thumb over the corner of Hux’s lips before feeding him a drop of cum he’d missed.

“I think Bens accepted your apology,” Cora smirked. I gave a thumbs up to confirm that I did accept his apology. My head was swimming with so many conflicting thoughts. My curiosity was growing. I wanted to try it for myself, but I was too shy to ask. Cora stroked my hair, her head cocked to one side as she studied me. It was as if she could read me from just a simple expression. “You want something but your too afraid to ask,” she spoke. “Its nothing,” I brushed it off. I glanced at Hux to see if he was listening. He was. Dammit. Cora watched me closely, a smirk slowly forming into a wicked grin. “You want to return the favour, don’t you?” She accused.

I avoided her gaze, knowing that if I lied to her I could get into trouble. Perhaps it would be better if I remained silent. I don’t even know why I wanted to return the favour, we both disliked each other. But if he hated me as much as I thought, why would he have put so much effort into sucking me off? Would it really hurt to try it? My cheeks were burning from embarrassment. Cora slowly turned me to look at her, she had a more sympathetic look now. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to Ben, you know that,” she reminded. “It’s not that, I just don’t know what I’m doing.” “That’s okay, we can guide you through it.” I knew Cora had no reason to trick me or punish me, I could trust her. I was just weary of Hux.

Fuck it. Hux and I switched places, Hux now sat on the edge of the bed. Cora helped him out of his uniform, leaving him in a white undershirt. I pulled his boots off before starting on his trousers. He was already half hard. I found more courage from somewhere and pulled his boxers off. Hux was looking at me impatiently, wanting me to just get on with it. I took the head of his cock in my mouth, sucking gently. Hux’s breathing was heavier now, his cock growing to full size in my mouth. I didn’t know if I’d be able to take all of him in my mouth, I didn’t like the idea of choking on his cock.

I took a little more in my mouth, hoping it felt somewhat good for him. Hux suddenly grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced me further down. I choked on the head of his cock, unable to breathe. I made a muffled sound of protest. Cora slapped Hux’s hand away from my hair, allowing me to pull back and breathe again. I coughed, still in slight shock. “General, I thought you’d learnt your lesson. Being so rough with a beginner isn’t fair at all. I never expected this sort of behaviour from you,” she snapped, disappointment clear in her voice. “But he has the same suction as a blocked hoover,” Hux protested

Cora didn’t accept his excuse, shooting him a warning look. “Answering back too, you really haven’t learnt your lesson,” she spoke. Cora positioned herself, so she was behind Hux. She took his arms and pulled them behind his back to restrain him. He looked like he wanted to protest but he didn’t want a worse punishment. I didn’t know if I should continue or not, he might try something else. Cora smiled reassuringly. “Go ahead Ben, this’ll be part of his punishment,” Cora explained. Oh. I knew with my lack of experience that would give Hux a very slow build up and most likely no orgasm at all. It was cruel, but he did deserve it.

I composed myself before taking him in my mouth once more. He made a small sound of what sounded like frustration. I continued to take more of him in my mouth until he hit my gag reflex. Hux groaned as I choked around his cock once more. My pace remained slow and soft as I got a feel for it. It didn’t take long before Hux was a panting mess as he strained against Cora, desperate for more. “Please…I can’t…I need more, please,” Hux begged. Cora ignored his pleas, now kissing at his neck and shoulders. I had no idea how long I was expected to drag this out for, but part of me liked having him at my mercy. I was in control for once. I focused on the head of his cock for a little while, my tongue tracing over the slit.

His hips bucked a little as he whined for more. Cora had left a series of red marks across his neck and shoulders. She was smirking as Hux continued to plead for more. Cora stroked his hair and cheek in a tender manner, Hux shivering at her touch. “Do you want to cum, General?” She asked. “Y-yes. Please,” he managed, his voice shaky. “You should have thought about that before trying to fuck Bens pretty face.” Hux look completely defeated at this point. Cora watched me for a little while, smiling softly. “I knew those lips would look good wrapped around a cock,” she spoke. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered. But I suppose it was a compliment. She turned her attention back to Hux who had a few tears running down his cheeks. He really couldn’t take anymore.

Cora’s smile turned into a wicked grin, “you can stop now Ben, the Generals learnt his lesson.” I did as I was told, the Generals cock leaving my mouth with a wet pop. Even though I was inexperienced, I was still proud of myself for making him a complete mess. Cora seemed happy with me as well, which was the main thing. Cora let go of Hux’s wrists before wiping away his tears. “If you have to be punished again this evening General, I think I’ll have to reconsider our arrangement. Is that understood?” Cora threatened. “Yes mistress, I’m sorry I’ve behaved so badly. It won’t happen again, I promise.” “We’ll see. Now that’s all the way, we can move on to why I really called you both here.” Hux and I exchanged nervous glances. What else could she possibly have planned?

05/01/2017 - Ola from La Vila Joiosa - Alicante!

Happy New Year folks! 2017 is upon is and I've not noticed any celebs die so far which means we're off to a flyer. 

We really are off to a flyer actually and I'm having a really great couple of days. We moved to this campsite just outside Benidorm in a village called La Vile Joiosa on the 2nd as kind of a pit-stop before the south coast and I really like it here. Not Benidorm itself particularly but the surrounding area and weather! The site itself is very "efficient" in that it's all very clean and tidy, access in and out is great, the pitches are all very symmetrical and square and there's a big reception and restaurant. Not very picturesque or wild but it has a very nice panoramic view of the mountains to the north and serves as a great base camp to explore them. We've not set up the awning this time as we've decided to use the week to get a good tan on. It's nice not to have that job to do on arrival and before leaving and a windbreak gives us plenty of privacy.

During the drive down we got our first proper wobble on while towing the van. I was doing about 55mph overtaking a lorry when a car shot past going at least 95-100mph. The combination of the suction between us and the lorry (where their wide slip stream envelopes us during the overtakes) and the sudden rush of air from the car zooming past started the wobble and boy did it take a while to settle. As we were heading downhill I just eased off the accelerator to maintain our speed and see what it did, ready to hit the accelerator if it got any worse. It just seemed to last for ages not getting any better or worse before it finally settled. The stabiliser did its bit and stopped any lateral movement at the top of the van taking it of vertical (a proper wobble) and the movement was side to side at the bottom like the van was trying to turn. Wouldn't say a close one but certainly close enough that I'll ease off the overtaking, especially when it's gert big lorries!

In the last few days since getting here we've pretty much just sunbathed, walked the dogs or I've been out on the bike. Yesterday's adventure took me north on a trail around the hills and a lake with a dam crossing thrown in. In the 19 miles covered and 1600 feet of accent I took in some lovely scenery and loved every minute. I did however soon realised the route would be much more fun ridden in reverse. I did most of the 1600 feet of climbing on techy single-track or gravel roads and all the descending on tarmac! I like off road climbing but given the choice of one or the other I ascend on the road and descend on the dirt so tomorrow I'll do the same route backwards! I also bumped into a couple of Spanish chaps out on their motorbikes. A modern BMW Scrambler style thing and a nice Harley. I stopped and chatted while taking photos of the bikes. It was great to meet some bikers but it gave me a real pang for a motorbike. I do miss the motorbike.

Here’s some pics of my last ride in Les Cases on the 31st December when I lost and found (the next day) my spares bottle with £100 of stuff in and the ride above from yesterday: -

Les Cases 29th December

First ride La Vila Joiosa

For most of the ride I could see the mountain "Puig Campana" which I was fixated on during the drive in and constantly stare up at from the campsite. I got to see it from the west this time but it's most spectacular view is from the south. Worth reading the Wikipedia listing about it as it kind of has 3 peaks, two of which are separated by this notch. There are legends about how it got their and one is that the chunk was cut out and knocked into the sea during a sword fight! Some bleddy sword and some bleddy boy to knock that out!!! I'd love to walk up it but at 4613 feet it's a pretty serious day and I'd want to take a proper day sack with a bivi bag in case I couldn't get back down before nightfall. Plus you'd want to climb it with someone and I don't think Erin's keen on going up, plus we couldn't drag the dogs up there. I'll just have to settle for staring longingly up at it and remind myself how much of a bastard it'd be to get up (but worth it!). I took it for granted climbing with Dad when I was a kid and now as an adult I'd love his skills to come guide me safely to the top!

Some photo’s of Puig Campana

Being in between Benidorm and Alicante we're obviously pretty spoilt in terms of what's on offer locally. We had a KFC on the first night, our first takeaway in a month or so, and yesterday we headed out for a lounger and some other bits. The shopping centre / mall type thing was still very much in Christmas mode which was weird! Lights and decorations everywhere and Christmas music blaring out of the speakers. I quite enjoyed having a look about though. I think if I lived in America I'd be like a teenage girl always heading to the mall for shopping and food! Anyway, by the time we'd been into Benidorm for the lounger, Erin had been for a look in the shopping centre and booked herself in for a hair cut, I'd been in the shopping centre for a look and Erin had done the Lidl shop, over 3 hours had passed! By this time it was dark and I was flagging having not eaten enough after my ride, so grumpy Luke came out to play closely followed by grumpy hungry Erin. Big day yesterday and a good sleep was had by all. Today it was sunbathing most the day then a walk with dogs after the worst of the heat had gone. We need to get our tan on as we’re still pretty white!

I’ve just asked Erin if we’ve got any funny stories as I couldn’t think of any which is strange. She’s reminded me of loads, most of which involve me being too deep in “travelling mode” leading onto me doing stupid things. 

1st is the Cockerel here. He’s fucking mental. I reckon he’s in his twilight years and snoozes on his rocking chair too much, losing track of time. Sometimes he does a “cockadoodledooooooo” in the morning when he’s supposed to, but never at the same time. He’ll have a go in the afternoon most days when he loses track of time and thinks it’s morning. Middle of the night is a popular time when he obviously just jumps the gun a bit. He also changes pitch mid performance, almost like a key change but less controlled or deliberate. When he goes off in the day its like he hasn’t cleared his throat. He just wakes suddenly, thinks “fuck I’m late”, and tries to belt one out instantly. Then every now and then he just goes mental and doesn’t stop for half an hour or more. He’s a character, that is for sure, and I’d love to go over and meet him! He’s a bit of a legend in fact.

The other one was my trip to the campsite shop here. Wondered in, asked for a baguette, bottle of water and bottle of milk. He presented me with a 12 inch baguette, a litre of milk and 1.5 litres of water then asked for 8 quid! As you do in these situations I asked “HOW MUCH”, to which he confirmed the same price which was shortly followed by me giving him the fucking money! I always do that. I just go all dazed and instead of saying “That’s too much, I won’t bother”, I just pay, and wander home in a daze. Then I tell Erin and get a swift bollocking! Would’ve cost about 3 quid in Lidl! Then I get mad and don’t want to talk about it. 

Then there’s my new tactic for scaring off potential neighbours. The pitch next to us is empty and it’s busy here with lots of people walking around with the site map checking out the pitches. If anything big parks next to us they’ll block the 10:30 to 12:00 sun and we’ll have to wait till the afternoon to commence sunbathing. To combat this, I’ve started sunbathing in my pants. I’ll pop up from behind our wind break if I hear folk browsing the pitch next door and have a quick sweep around our flooring thing from the awning. I even went for the classic “man thong” today and tucked as much of my boxers up my arse as I could just to be sure. There’s no real divide between pitches so this tactic works well as I’ll be their view for the duration of the stay. Erin thinks it’s funny but it seems like perfectly reasonable behaviour to me which I think is a bad sign. 

An obligatory pic of Bear. Erin and Charlie have been camera shy this week. I’m the only one taking pics as usual!!!

That’s all for now. Moving on down to the south coast on Tuesday so will post from there.

TTFN!!!!