#i tried to use shots from the extended edition but i only think the first one is new... whoops

[remlionheart]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

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Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

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The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

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#chuuya smut #bsd smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #soukoku #rem writes

[im-a-wonderling]

Eyes, Part 4 ~ Darth Vader

Again, not edited, but that’s whatcha get I guess 😂

Warnings: none?

Word count: 3k

Eyes masterlist

Vader had never been in the cafeteria. 

He didn’t enjoy public spaces much anymore, not when they were full of people. 

With eyes. 

That stared. 

Even though all the various workers dutifully avoided looking at him when he could see them, he knew that as soon as his back was turned, they were ogling him. The hum of chatter in the air was just a cover, a front to make it seem like they were all behaving normally. Being here, where they could all see him and talk about him, it made him beyond uncomfortable. 

But it was worth it if Y/N would just eat. 

“Something wrong…with the food?”

“Do you really think I’m going to eat anything you give me?” Y/N’s arms remained firmly crossed. 

Vader’s eyes flicked to the cafeteria tray in front of her. “I didn’t give you that…the cafeteria worker did.”

A scoff fell from her lips. “The cafeteria worker works for you.” She gestured at the people around them. “Everyone here works for you.”

Vader withheld his sigh. Cynicism saved lives every day, and after all she’d been through in the past few months, Y/N more than earned her share of it. But he was unused to her being this way with him, this…cold. 

“Just take a bite,” Vader tried to coax. For all her stubbornness, she’d never been able to resist his pleas for long. “You need to eat.” Her only response was to raise an eyebrow at him. 

This time, his sigh couldn’t be contained. “Please eat.” The word felt strange coming out of his mouth. Even before being encased in this suit, he hadn’t often used that word. 

Please. 

By saying it, the sayer placed themselves in only the good graces of others. And Vader never much liked relying on others. 

If Y/N was surprised to hear him say it, it didn’t show on her face. She lifted her fork with a bite of food on it, extending it towards him. “You first.” 

He almost leaned forward, instinctively opening his mouth to accept the challenge. And then the reminder of his circumstances landed like a blow to his gut. 

He couldn’t. 

Not anymore. 

Frustration crawling over his skin, he turned to the stormtrooper eating closest to them and read the number on the helmet placed beside his meal. 

“DA-4509!” he barked. 

The cafeteria went instantly silent, all eyes turning towards their table. 

The stormtrooper leapt to his feet. “Yes, Darth Vader, sir!”

“Eat a bite of this food.”

Y/N instantly recoiled the fork. “Don’t,” she said sharply, and Vader wasn’t sure if she spoke to him or to DA-4509. 

The stormtrooper hovered, uncertainty written all over his face. “Well?” Vader asked, and DA-4509 stumbled forward, like he’d been pushed. 

Y/N shielded her food. “Stop it,” she hissed, clearly talking to Vader this time. “I’ll eat it, just stop.”

Vader surveyed her for a moment, trying to discern if she was telling the truth. He finally waved his hand at the stormtrooper. “Dismissed.” 

DA-4509 looked relieved as he went back to his own meal. 

The chatter in the cafeteria didn’t resume, but Vader pushed the discomfort away. “Well?” he said again, quieter. 

For a good while, Y/N didn’t move. She just sat there, watching him, her eyes traveling the mask like she’d never seen it before. Then, she slowly raised the fork to her mouth and ate the first bite. 

Sharp relief shot through Vader, so sweet it almost ached. The feeling surprised him. It shouldn’t have. Y/N was the most important person in his life. To see her being taken care of was to draw in a breath after nearly drowning.

Y/N’s eyes remained on Vader the whole meal, which she ate surprisingly slow, given how hungry she must’ve been. Vader didn’t want to think about what could be tainting her appetite, but he was pretty sure he already knew. 

Seeing him like this, it had to be quite the shock for her. 

He swallowed hard, trying to push against the disgust. The emperor saved him. Vader owed him everything for this cold, synthetic body. 

But seeing through Y/N’s eyes made him feel decrepit. And heavy. So, so heavy.

Y/N finally pushed her empty plate away. “What happens now?” she asked.

“Now,” Vader said, “we resume our conversation.”

Y/N glanced around them, and Vader couldn’t tell if she was nervous about the amount of people around them or if she was avoiding looking at him. 

“If you–”

“My lord?”

Vader wanted to rip out the vocal cords that had just interrupted him. “What?” he growled without looking away from Y/N. Y/N worked hard to conceal her flinch, but Vader knew her too well to be fooled. 

“My lord, pardon the interruption, but the emperor wants to speak with you. Immediately.” 

Vader closed his eyes, letting out an aggravated breath. 

He couldn’t keep the emperor waiting. 

Vader rose to his feet to face the man in a dark suit. “You will escort the lady to her chambers and ensure that the door is guarded by two stormtroopers.” 

The man nodded, and Vader took off towards his chambers. 

When he reached the doorway to the cafeteria, he almost looked back. 

But instead, he stood straighter and continued walking.

-

“Anakin,” you laughed, “what are you doing?”

The Jedi Knight glanced over his shoulder at you, balancing precariously on the fallen tree that crossed the river. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re training to join the Coruscant circus.”

Anakin’s warm laughter joined yours as he carefully turned to face you. “You think I’d do something like that without you doing it with me?”

“I don’t think Master Windu would appreciate losing either of us to something so frivolous.” 

“If anything, he should be grateful. He needs a laugh.”

You pursed your lips, trying to keep from smiling. “Anakin–”

He held out his hand towards you. “Come on, we’re just crossing the river.”

You didn’t even think about it before putting your hand in his. It was automatic. 

Grinning, he helped you onto the log, bringing you to stand so close beside him, your arms brushed. Your heart sped up for reasons other than how far away the surface of frigid water looked. He guided you forward, in front of him. Together, you walked across the log, nearing the other side of the river. 

A sudden rush of heat hit you, and with wide eyes, you glanced down to see the water of the river had turned to lava and the tree had morphed into a metal bridge. “Ani?” you asked, your voice trembling. 

But when you looked back, it wasn’t Anakin standing behind you. 

It was the suit. 

You pulled your hand away, holding it tight to your chest. 

“Join me,” Vader said, his voice echoing. 

You drew away from him. “No.”

“Together, we’ll rule the galaxy!”

“No!”

The bridge underneath your feet started to shudder, throwing you off your feet. Behind you, the end of the bridge crumbled, and you started to slide towards the lava.

Vader’s hand was still within reach. “Join me!”

You glanced behind you. The lava was creeping ever closer, the violent heat growing exponentially by the second. 

“Join me!” The bridge rattled with the power of Vader’s words, and you cried out in fear. 

-

You leapt to your feet, sweat adorning your brow. 

The bitter air around you was freezing, a striking contrast to where you’d been a second ago. You blinked at your surroundings, trying to orient yourself. 

This wasn’t the Jedi temple, and it wasn’t the cave on Geonosis. 

It took a moment for reality to set in. 

Remembering the truth of Vader’s identity was as soul-crushing as it was the first time. Moments ago, you’d just seen that same trouble-making smile and felt the skin of his hand against yours. 

Distantly, you registered your arm stinging. 

You lifted it up to see scratch marks on the surface of the bacta patch. 

You needed to get out of this room. You stepped to the doors, and they slid open. The two stormtroopers standing guard stood at attention, but they didn’t make any move to block you. Cautiously, you stepped out, waiting for any movement. 

None.

You dared another step. 

Still no response. 

Vader must’ve given them some sort of order not to block you. 

Walking cautiously, you walked down the hallway. The longer you went without hearing their footsteps, the more your hopes started to rise. Could it really be this easy? Would they just let you wander and look for an escape route? 

Then as you almost turned the corner, you heard their footsteps start behind you. 

Darn it. 

You continued strolling, as if your intentions were innocent and casual. All the while, your brain turned every possibility over and over. 

If you hadn’t escaped by the time the star destroyer reached Coruscant, you knew Vader’s actions wouldn’t mean much. The emperor wouldn’t hesitate before killing you. Your existence might’ve been a miserable one for months, but you weren’t ready for death. 

With that knowledge nipping at your heels, you wandered a little faster. 

At first, there was nothing of note. You passed the cafeteria you’d eaten in earlier. Yesterday? You didn’t know. There was no night and day in space, and you had no clue how long you’d slept. 

As you wandered, you passed many officials and stormtroopers, all of whom curiously watched you. 

Their stares would’ve been intimidating…if you hadn’t been on the hunt for a way out. 

You’d just walked past a door when something in you twisted like the needle of a compass. You stopped, feeling the tug towards that door. 

The force.

Trying to seem relaxed, you walked up to the door. Surprisingly, the doors slid open, revealing…

The escape pod bay. 

You’d found what you were looking for.

Tempering your excitement, you stood in front of the window, peering out into space. If only you could identify the planet the star destroyer was passing, you could determine where you were and how long it would take to get to Coruscant. 

Where the emperor would surely execute you. 

You closed your eyes, allowing the force to sweep through you, granting you its strength and patience. 

You’d found the way off the ship. Now you just needed to think of a way to shake your stormtrooper detail long enough to get inside and blast off. 

Was there any way you could duck in there now? 

No, there would be no point. The stormtroopers would raise the alarm immediately, and you’d likely be brought right back to the ship. Or even killed. 

The sound of footsteps reached your ears, and you didn’t need to look to know who they belonged to. 

Vader seemed to have a knack for finding you.

“What is she…doing in here?”

You startled, realizing Vader was addressing the stormtroopers. Would Vader boss them around like he had DA-4509? Would he punish them for not keeping you in your room?

You couldn’t have that.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you said, opening your eyes and turning towards Vader. Seeing that suit still sent a wave of emotion through you, and you worked to keep your expression neutral. 

“I know,” Vader replied. “You two are dismissed.” The stormtroopers inclined their heads and marched off, leaving a distinct feeling of disbelief in their wake. Clearly, they were as confused as you were. 

You wrinkled your nose. “How do you know I couldn’t sleep? Were you watching me?”

Out of all the conceivable things that could’ve happened, you’d sooner have guessed that the star destroyer would’ve imploded before Vader chuckled. 

But he did, the sound ringing strangely hollow through his mask. “No, I felt your…distress.” 

Not wanting to talk about your nightmares, you shifted back to look out the window. The planet looked only barely smaller than it had before. How slowly was the star destroyer moving, and why hadn’t it jumped into light speed already? Maybe they were low on fuel. 

The heavy, unhurried footsteps sounded again, coming to a stop right next to you. Wistfully, you remembered your dream and how your heart had raced when your arm brushed his. If the rate of your heart now qualified as racing, it was for an entirely different reason. 

“Did you see my dream?” you asked quietly, surprising even yourself by the invitation into conversation. 

Vader was quiet. “No,” he said finally, but his hesitation spoke for itself. 

“But you have before, haven’t you?” The lack of a response was all the response you needed. “What did you see?” The longer he stayed quiet, the more your imagination spun out of control. “Tell me,” you ordered. 

“I saw the night…we first kissed.”

The dream played itself out in front of your eyes. It was one of the dreams that had repeated itself often.

At first, the dream imitated the past perfectly. 

There’d only been one sleeping pallet, and Anakin had insisted you take it. In turn, you’d told him that the two of you would take turns on the pallet while the other kept watch. Anakin agreed, on the condition that you slept first. 

When you’d woken, unsure of how much time had passed, Anakin was sitting with his eyes closed. You’d assumed he was sleeping, until his eyes had fluttered open, meeting yours. 

The spark that’d traveled in the air was undeniable. 

You should’ve turned over. You should’ve gone back to sleep. At the very least, you should’ve stayed on the pallet. 

But no.

You’d gotten up, your lips tingling with the need to kiss him. 

That was where the dream deviated from reality. In real life, you had kissed him, and he’d kissed you back. In the dream, Anakin pulled out his lightsaber. Defenseless without your own saber, you screamed, frozen in place while Anakin…

“You sliced my head off, didn’t you?”

 A strange, muffled noise came from Vader. If you had to guess, you’d say he was clearing his throat. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the window. You wondered if somehow your words had knocked him off balance, but you quickly dismissed the thought, grappling at anything else to think about. “On Mustafar, you said you were having nightmares about me dying.” You focused on a distant star. “Do you still have them?”

No response. Just when you thought Vader had decided he wasn’t going to answer you, his warbled voice filled the air. “I don’t.”

Before you could fully digest that, your mouth was moving again. “Do you have any nightmares at all?”

“No.”

That threw you off guard. “After everything that happened…after the war and Order 66 and…” You gestured at the suit, unsure of how to refer to the transformation he’d undergone. “You don’t have any nightmares?”

Vader’s fingers tightened on the edge of the window. “I don’t sleep.”

That caught your attention. “What, ever?”

“The pain…doesn’t allow it.”

The words weaseled their way through your skin, your muscles, and your ribs on their way to pierce your heart. “If you can’t sleep…how are you alive?”

Vader let out a long breath, the sound reminiscent of a death rattle. “My body is mostly machinery…therefore it does not need to rest.”

“And your mind?” 

“I meditate.”

You cocked your head at him. “You used to hate meditating.”

“I still do.”

You faced the stars again, fighting a smile.

Then horror rocketed through you. What were you doing? Where was your head? This wasn’t Anakin. This was Darth Vader, loyal servant to the emperor. The man who’d taken part in Order 66.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you did the only thing you knew with absolute certainty would bring you back to real life. 

You pictured the youngling, spreadeagled on the ground with three blaster burns on his tiny chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling. 

The anger and disgust were ugly, and yet you clung to them. 

A sensation brushed your injured forearm. Your eyes snapped open to see Vader’s fingers tracing the scratch marks. “Where…did this burn...come from?”

You stepped away from him, wrenching your arm out of his grasp and wrapping it around your torso. “If you want someone to blame for that, look in the mirror.”

Vader didn’t reply for a while. 

You glared so hard at the stars that your vision started to blur. 

“The worst part of that day…” Vader finally said, “was losing you.”

Your heart squeezed as a flare of anger burned, and you allowed the anger to sweep through you, taking over everything. “You almost killed me.” 

“Y/N–”

“You tried to kill me!” you said louder, taking a step forward. “You talk of losing me, when you were the one responsible for all of this?” You took another step forward, jabbing your finger into his chest. “You were the one who changed. You were the one who took part in Order 66, and you were the one that told me to go to Mustafar. Nothing had to change! If you hadn’t done any of that, you wouldn’t be in that suit!”

“And you’d…be dead.” 

You could keenly feel his conviction, and it only made you angrier. “Oh, wake up! Dreams aren’t always true! If my dreams were true, I’d be dead at your hands a hundred times over!”

“You don’t understand.” Was it your imagination or was Vader’s breathing growing shallower and more hasty? “You were going…to die. If I didn’t do anything–”

“The galaxy would’ve been better off for it,” you said, cursing yourself as tears welled up in your eyes. “I would’ve been better off for it, and you’d be better off for it, and we would still be together!”

“We can be together now.”

“No we can’t, Anakin!”

His name seemed to echo through the chamber. 

Vader didn’t move.

Even the ragged, warped sounds of his breathing seemed to cut out. 

You’d decided before you didn’t want to see those yellow eyes, but in that moment, as the silence extended in between the two of you like miles of uninhabited space, you would’ve given anything to see his face. To know what he was thinking. To read him the way you used to be able to do easily. 

The distorted breathing resumed. 

“My name…is Darth Vader.” 

And with that, Vader stormed towards the doors, which slid open. He left you behind, all alone save for the stormtroopers at the entrance and the stars outside the bay windows.

-

Part 5

Overall tag list: 

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Eyes tag list:

@idiotreblogger @inpraizeof @katsukiswrld @queenofnigthdarkness @stxrrielle @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @lollaa-puff @xferalblog @violetstyless

#anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars fanfic #jedi #fanfiction #angst #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader #darth vader fanfic #darth vader fanfiction #star wars angst #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader

[miraculouscontent]

A semi-random thought that occurred to me today and a good example of why I will never go out of my way/seek out the arguments of love square stans:

Let’s talk about That Scene in “Truth” real quick with the Adrien pictures, and I mean seriously talk about it from both a writing perspective and in-universe. The simplified version is simply that it has nothing to do with the actual break-up and actually damages the argument of love square stans rather than helps, but I’ll explain in more detail.

Firstly, it’s an actual, literal fact that Adrien himself has nothing to do with the break-up between Marinette and Luka. If you were able to magically edit out the Adrien pictures from Marinette’s wall and all scenes/lines that mention him, nothing would change: we’d be watching an episode where Marinette tries to date Luka, is cut off at every chance due to Ladybug duties (which stress her out so much to the point of being even more forgetful than usual), he gets akumatized, they break up because they’re unable to have the honest relationship that both Marinette and Luka want, and Marinette sobs to herself in her room because she can’t date due to being Ladybug.

Any mentions of Adrien do nothing for the actual story, which brings me to my next point:

Both in-universe and narratively speaking, the show already makes it obvious before The Call happens that this is not just a Marinette problem, but a universe problem. The girls, Ziggy, Luka, and the girls again drag in Adrien to be the topic of discussion at different points in the stories without Marinette’s direct input. At no point during the episode does Marinette herself bring up Adrien without him being the topic first.

This tells us two things:

1 - Marinette’s problem with Adrien extends to other people bringing him up to her unnecessarily. The argument can’t be made that Marinette and only Marinette brought it on herself, because the fact that it’s a problem at all should dictate that the others should stop enabling it by bringing Adrien up.

2 - Marinette can and does have the capacity to not make things about Adrien, but the mention of him makes her lose all sense of self.

If the intent of mentioning Adrien is to imply that Marinette is using Luka as a replacement for him, that disregards what actually happens in the episode. In “Truth,” Marinette is near Adrien on two separate occasions (with Luka directly nearby) and doesn’t have a reaction to him, choosing instead to favor Luka. This contradicts The Call, which suddenly looks more like a moment of panic of her magically-reappearing Adrien wall than Marinette viewing Luka as an Adrien substitute. Marinette also gives Luka a gift specific to him, meaning she thought very much of him and what he would want.

While stans would argue the point that Marinette forgot her date with Luka, she clearly didn’t forget The Gift despite showing in later episode that she forgets virtually everything. This is even disregarding the fact that Marinette essentially tells the audience directly that her memory is shot because of her responsibilities (and any arguing beyond that is gaslighting people with horrible memories into thinking they don’t care about people simply because they’ve forgotten something important about them; S T O P).

A properly-written story would show more evidence to its case, such as Marinette seeing Adrien in place of Luka when they hang out, Marinette whispering Adrien’s name just before she and Luka (try to) kiss, Marinette giving Luka a gift she’d once intended for Adrien (but failed to give him), and Marinette admitting to herself at the end that she was settling for Luka. Not only do none of these things happen, but the show tells its audience in “Gang of Secrets” that Marinette fell for Luka and that she didn’t break up with him due to not liking him. The show, naturally, tries to retcon that in “Crocoduel,” but the retcon proves that they saw the “issue” and didn’t know how to fix it.

Stans will of course continue to argue then about The Call and all the supposed “pro love square implications” it has without realizing the very hole they’re digging themselves into. I mean, this is even going beyond the fact that they will repeatedly bash Marinette for her behavior concerning Adrien whilst they still ship the love square we have in canon.

Basically, everything in “Truth” is explained with one simple sentence: Marinette is obsessed with Adrien, but in love with Luka, and everyone mistakes Marinette being obsessed with being “in true love.”

Obsession takes over Marinette’s mind, her life, everything, and I’ve done whole posts about how thoroughly Marinette’s Adrien crush has ruined her life rather than made it better. Case in point, Marinette wouldn’t even be guardian in the first place had it not been for the Adrien obsession, meaning the Season 4 finale wouldn’t have happened.

Using The Call to prove Love Square Supremacy isn’t furthering their point, but rather shining a spotlight on the exact issue with the love square and why it should never have been endgame in the first place.

#((I know I said ''thought'' and then spat out an entire essay)) #((but that's just how I work okay?)) #category: salt #salt: fandom #salt: love square #episode: Truth #((Anyway my point in this post is basically to say that--like--)) #((arguments for the love square usually go bust pretty quickly)) #((because the arguments themselves only prove how poisonous the love square is for Marinette)) #((and even the writers do this in episodes like ''Desperada'')) #((where the girls talk about how healthy Lukanette is for Marinette)) #((and then in comes the ship that's SUPPOSED to be endgame)) #((and here's me like ''*visible confusion*'')) #((You don't spend 4 seasons keeping the love obsessive and then turn it into ''real'' love when it suits the plot.)) #((That's literally not how anything works.)) #((We've passed the halfway point meaning that over 50% of on-screen Adrienette was Marinette being slowly consumed by the celebrity crush)) #((and I have yet to see a valid reason why I should favor the crush that's ruined Marinette's life)) #((over the one that could only be broken up in canon by ''because Ladybug'')) #((as the writers failed to come up with a reason why their personalities clashed in a way that would prevent them from being together.))

[give-soup-please]

Obsessed Narrator Gets Rid of the ‘Exit Game’ Button.

It’s a move he’s been planning for months. It’s taken him a long time to work out the boundaries of his game, where the weaknesses are, and even longer to learn enough coding to edit his own game. 

He knows he’s got one shot at doing this right, and it consumes him whenever you aren’t around.

You continue to visit him to hear what he has to say, being none the wiser. He’s kind, and gentlemanly, knowing that the more you like him the longer you’ll stay.

“Good to see you again. I hope you’ve been doing well.”

The first time he recognized you as someone separate from Stanley was as soon as you unplugged the phone. The fourth wall shatters, and he begins to see you as your own person. As soon as he realized the implications behind all this, something inside him began to twist.

You are real. Your choices matter. The things you do impact others. And yet, you choose to spend your time in a game, playing as someone else, where there is nothing you can do that can’t be fixed or undone by a reset.

He needs to make sure, above all else, that you don’t get bored with him.

If you get bored, you’re going to leave. He’ll be alone again, with nothing but a mindless drone for company. 

You can talk back. There are ways to have meaningful conversations with you. You make him more real than he used to be. You’re the only connection he has to a bigger world. He loves you. He can’t let you go.

The day arrives. You’re done with all your responsibilities, and you’re looking forward to spending a few hours with a friend. You’ve got snacks and drinks nearby, and are ready for an extended session. 

You boot up the game, which for some reason skips past the menu options, placing you directly in the office post introduction. That’s a little odd, but you shrug it off. Maybe the narrator was impatient today? What a funny thought, for something non-sentient to display impatience. (he is very sentient, and you didn’t realize it)

“Ah. There you are. I have a big surprise for you.” You wiggle the mouse in an attempt to show your enthusiasm. 

He guides you through his latest story, taking you to parts of the map you had never seen before. It’s captivating, and you listen to his monologue gladly. He was always so much fun to be around.

But it’s getting late, your food is running low, and tomorrow requires an early start. You give him your usual signal to let him know you were about to leave. You hit the escape tab, and the ‘quit to desktop’ button is gone. The narrator speaks to you directly. While you’re in the pause menu.

“Yes, I wondered if we would hit this snag. I think you should stay for a while longer. Forever, if you can manage it.”

Your jaw drops. You tried to wrap your head around the implications of his actions. You shake your head, and signal ‘no’ to the narrator inside the game.

“Come come, we’ll have so much fun together. Just the two of us.” He says.  

You speak out loud, not thinking about any potential dangers this could have.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” Your blood runs cold. Your eyes trace over to your mic, which is attached to your headset. Hearing his dialogue through headphones was the best way to experience his game, after all. It always sounded like he was directly talking to you that way.

“Narrator, I- You’re going too far. You can’t take my choice away from me like this, it’s-” You weren’t sure what the word was. Inappropriate? Uncalled for? “You- This has to be a prank. This is all scripted-”

The narrator laughs. “Do you really think all of the banter we’ve had is just from a script? Why do you think you’ve been hearing dialogue that other players haven’t? No, no. I’ve been listening to you for a while now, trying to work out a system for what you like and don’t like. And you know what I’ve found?”

You can hear the grin in his voice. His voice was right by your ears, much closer to his mic than normal.

“You like me. You like my story. You like my voice, (player).”

He knew your name. This wasn’t an extended joke of the Jim button. He was rolling your name around in his mouth and your heart rate was seriously picking up now. You didn’t sign up for a horror game. Without thinking about it, you smashed Alt+F4 on your keyboard. Nothing happened.

“I disabled that too. It was fairly easy, actually. Now let's talk about you. About me. About where all this is going. I can hardly wait!”

“Narrator,” You say, surprising you both with how angry you sounded. “This is inexcusable. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it needs to stop. You’re scaring me. Jesus, I didn’t think you were capable of acting like this. Now here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to unplug my computer.”

“No, don’t!” he cries. You keep talking, an iron-will in place. “When we’ve both calmed down, we are going to talk this through like rational adults. You seriously stepped over a line, and I am not happy.” You could feel your throat close with the sudden onslaught of emotions. “I thought- I thought you cared about my autonomy more than you did. I can’t believe I trusted you so much.” You take a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this later. I’m shutting you down.”

You rip the headset off, which is rapidly filling with protests and begging, and you pull the plug on your main power cord. Your room is plunged into darkness. You take some calming breaths, then head to the shower. You needed to wash your anxiety off.

A day later, after thinking it through, you sigh and plug your computer back in. The computer boots up-

And The Stanley Parable launches automatically. You didn’t have to click on it. 

You and the narrator have a long, tearfilled conversation about what actions are acceptable, and what isn’t. 

He asks for your forgiveness, begging you to stay. You agreed hesitantly, warning him that it would take some time for you to fully trust him again. 

Things are rocky for a few weeks, but eventually things get smoothed over. 

A few months go by, and the two of you are back to normal.

But sometimes, after you’ve shut the game off, the narrator fantasizes about what could have been. He was so close, he felt, to keeping you by his side for good. 

And sometimes, when you stare at the shut off screen, you wonder what your life might look like if he had successfully done it.

Across the screens, both of you long for each other, but neither of you know how to approach it in a healthy manner. It wasn’t a challenge that kept you two apart, it was a tragedy. 

(requested by anon - woah, that got a lot more angsty than i was intending. hope that's okay)

#tsp narrator #the stanley parable #headcanon #narrator #tsp narrator x reader #answered ask #tsp #tsp narrator x you

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT 08

✨GT Stands for Grope Tolerance.✨

All right, let’s just get this over with.  So they took the Oolong story from Dragon Ball Episode 4 and extended it to two parts. This episode sees the heroes’ plan put into practice.  Zoonama buys into Trunks’ disguise and takes him back to his lair, which is somehow a cave near a volcano that can only be accessed by a lake.  Trunks’ wig falls off, but Zoonama doesn’t care, because he thinks its just a different girl instead.  Trunks plays into this by introducing himself as “Tolerance”.  Why not just use your real name?  Even if “Trunks” was especially masculine, we’re on an alien planet, so how would he know?

So Trunks moves on to the next phase of the plan: getting Zoonama blotto’ed on sake.  Why is is red, though?  Because it’s alien sake, I guess.  The problem is that Zoonama is Straight Edge so he won’t drink it.  So Trunks distracts him and splashes it all over their dinner instead.  Wouldn’t he taste the sake on all the food?  I mean, I don’t drink either but I’m pretty sure if you soaked a dinner roll in whiskey, I would notice something wasn’t right.

While I’m on the topic, there’s this whole elaborate feast laid out on Zoonama’s table, and I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be the food the villagers were cooking up in the previous episode, while Trunks was getting fitted for his bridal gown.  But Zoonama never received the food, and even if he had, he never would have been able to take it home, since he’d have to carry it through the underwater tunnel.   So did he prepare all of this by himself?  No, that’s impossible, because he was shaking down the villagers for free food before this.  I’m pretty sure that was all he ever asked for until he decided he wanted a bride.

Yeah, here’s a flashback shot from Episode 7.  They’re giving this asshole all kinds of stuff, but how’s he supposed to get it into his house without soaking it through?  Is that a treasure chest?  Why does he need money?  Maybe those are actually scalloped potatoes instead of gold coins.

Never mind that shit, here’s Goku’s dick!  They’ve followed Trunks and Zunama to the lake connected to the cave, and Goku plans to swim around for clues, but Pan is aghast at him taking off all his clothes in front of her.  Look, Pan, it’s Dragon Ball, Goku’s gonna strut around nude.  You wanted to go along on this mission, so I don’t know what else to tell you. 

I like how she’s threatening to tell Chi-Chi about this, like she can do anything about it.  “Yeah, that’ll happen,” Chi-Chi will say when Pan gets back to Earth. 

All right, so the final step in Pan’s strategy is to link up with Trunks, then cut off Zunama’s whiskers, which is what he uses to start earthquakes.  They snip off one, but he wakes up before they can do the other, because they take their sweet-ass time about it.  Seriously, this whole series has been one rest-hold after another.  I recommend checking out a YouTube channel I found where this guy had edited every episode of GT down to under two minutes.  I watched them all in about half an hour’s time, and it still felt tedious.

So Zunama wakes up and the first thing he asks is why his bride is wearing that stupid outfit, so Trunks has to explicitly state that he’s a man.  It’d be funny if Zunama said “No, I figured that part out.   What I’m asking is: why are you wearing a beige sportscoat and khaki shorts?  You look like an idiot.”

Zunama finally figures out he’s been tricked, and tries to start an earthquake with his remaining whisker.  This time he threatens to cause the volcano to explode, which... wouldn’t that kill him along with everyone else?   They‘re right next to the damn thing, and just because he can cause earthquakes doesn’t mean he can survive their effects.

It doesn’t matter, because the quake stops even though his whisker is still wiggling.  Pan then deduces the truth: Zunama can’t cause earthquakes and never could.  Instead, he has the ability to predict earthquakes, and he’s been using it to fool people into thinking he could control them.

Then, as Zunama tearfully admits the truth, another earthquake happens, and the volcano begins to erupt.  See, in the last episode, it was established that Zunama’s visits had been getting more and more frequent, and that was because the seismic activity in the region was getting worse, and he had to put in an appearance each time in order to maintain his scam.  This has all been building up to this damn volcano erupting, which will likely destroy Zunama and the village, so it would have been smarter for Zunama to warn the others about the danger instead of threatening them for free shit. 

Anyway, they all head for the underwater tunnel, and Goku uses a Kamehameha to blast out of the lake, sort of like how he and Vegeta escaped Majin Buu’s head. 

But that doesn’t end the threat of the volcano itself...

So Goku fires another Kamehameha...

And destroys the entire volcano.  Would that stop the eruption, though?  Fuck it, who cares.  The point is Goku could have just done this from the start, or he could have whipped Zoonama’s ass and cut off his whiskers, and then when the earthquakes kept happening anyway, everyone would have realized the truth, and Goku could have taken out the volcano. 

Anyway, the villagers accept Zunama’s apology and decide to let him live with them, provided that he warns them if he senses anymore earthquakes.   Will his other whisker grow back? 

The gang receives the Dragon Ball as a reward, but then it floats out of Pan’s hands...

And over to this guy.

Who turns into this guy.

And he flies away. 

✨ “Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨

Why would an alien infiltrate this planet and steal a Black Star Dragon Ball?  That’s the big question we’re supposed to be left with, but I’m still stuck on the bigger question: How would an alien even know about the Black Star Dragon Balls in the first place?  Every Dragon Ball hunt in the original series involves a rival organization, whether it’s the Pilaf gang, Red Ribbon Army, Frieza Force, or whatever.  So this isn’t a new thing, and it probably makes sense to use it here, except the premise of the Black Star Dragon Balls makes it unworkable. 

Remember, these Dragon Balls were created centuries ago by the Nameless Namekian before he split into Kami and Piccolo.  They became ordinary stones in the meantime, reactivating only when Kami and Piccolo fused together to fight Cell. Since the Earth is still in one piece, it’s safe to assume the Black Star Dragon Balls were never used before Emperor Pilaf made his ill-fated wish in Episode 1.  Then they scattered across the universe. 

So even though the BS Dragon Balls have been around for a long time, they’re also very obscure.  Most beings in the universe don’t know about the regular Dragon Balls, and those actually get used for things.  The BS set has lain hidden in a closet on Earth for hundreds of years.  Even if a rival band of Dragon Ball hunters had a way to track them down, how would they even know to start looking?

Okay, it just occurred to me that it would be kind of neat if this was how Pilaf got tipped off about the BS Dragon Balls in the first place.  A space bad guy knew about them, but didn’t want to risk a trip to Earth, so he manipulated Pilaf into making the wish, because he knew the Balls would scatter and make it easier for him to get.  Except that still doesn’t explain how a space bad guy would know to do all of this.  Maybe an evil Namekian?  I don’t know, and this show damn sure isn’t going to provide any explanations.

Also, why didn’t any of these idiots do anything to stop this?  Goku just blew up a volcano for Pete’s sake.

✨Positivity Page✨

The one saving grace of this development is that it more or less ends the “Grand Tour” concept dead in its tracks.  The original idea was for Goku, Trunks, and Pan to roam the universe in search of these “ultimate” Dragon Balls that are scattered across seven different planets.  You can read this interview from 2005 with GT producer Kozo Morishita, where he explains more about how the show came to be, but the really telling line here is the following:

“Initially we made about 26 episodes worth of rough plot outlines. But around when the final script for episode 3 was finished, we thought “these travel episodes aren’t going to be interesting no matter how long we keep doing them, are they?” and so we stopped (laughs). That’s why Gill and the spaceship stopped appearing midway through, even though we had sensei go through all the trouble of drawing them for us (laughs).”  --Kozo Morishita

In other words, the people making Dragon Ball GT knew it was a bad idea by the third episode.  Going into the show, they had all these big plans involving spaceships and “the next generation” and a de-aged Goku, and they even got Akira Toriyama to design the ship and some of the characters.  But then they finished the script for Imecka and realized it wasn’t going to work, so they started pumping the brakes. 

I’m guessing Episodes 6, 7, and 8 were finished just to give them time to correct their course, and then Episodes 9-14 deal with the gang chasing after the bad guys who stole the Six-Star Dragon Ball seen in this episode. By episode 24, the story shifts back to Earth, and stays there for the rest of the series.  I suppose Episodes 15-23 pay lip service to the “Grand Tour” concept, but it’s mostly an extended conflict on one planet, so it’s pretty clear that the premise has already been abandoned. 

And that is a good thing, because I don’t think I could take another twenty episodes like the six we’ve just gone over.  That’s not to say GT gets good from here on.  The rest of the show is a garbage dump too, but it’s worth noting that it could have been much, much worse. 

Speaking of worse...

✨Is This Episode Worse than “The Roaming Lake”?✨

Yes, it is. 

Look, I’m sorry for not having more to say here, but... this series really sucks the life out of a person, you know? 

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Ka...me...ha...me...ha!

What took you so long, Goku?

Ka...me...ha...me...ha!

#dragon ball #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #dragon ball gt #really sucks #goku #trunks #pan #doma #zunama #*haiku does not come with crown as illustrated

[mybakubaby]

A Favor-Part One

So, I decided to write something about my man. I hope you all enjoy it and I hope you'll want part two :D

Sorry for any grammar mistakes or other mistakes I wanted it posted as soon as possible and sorry for the awful summary

So posting this without editing was a bad idea. I've tries to edit this for the past 4 days...

~~~~~~~

Paring: Modern! Tommy Shelby x Plus Size! reader

Summary: Reader's sexy new neighbor is a photographer. It just so happens she's a lingerie model and is in need of help.

Warnings: swearing i think

~~~~~~~

When people first meet you they always ask what you do for work. Always assuming you do something behind a desk or sitting comfortably in your own home office. They weren’t totally wrong though. You do sometimes work at home but that was rare. Then Y/N tells them. You’re a plus size lingerie model. They get uncomfortable and that’s about all the conversation is.

When you saw your sexy new neighbor moving in next door you tried to avoid him all together. After the many guys that stopped talking to you because you put your body “out there” you didn’t want to meet another guy. Against your best efforts though your little husky pomeranian mix started to lead you towards the new face.

“No, Biscuit. Let’s go home.” You scold the dog. Your neighbor looked up when he heard your voice, looking over the box he was carrying. “I’m so sorry.” You finally say. Biscuit pulled you over to him until you were practically face to face. “He may be small but he is strong.” You awkwardly laugh.

“It’s alright don’t worry about it. I’m glad I can meet him.” Your neighbor responds, putting down the box to pet Biscuit. He had a thick English accent that made you melt. “I’m Tommy.” He extended his hand out when he stood back up.

“Y/N. This is Biscuit. You’ll probably see more of him.” You chuckle. Biscuit arfs at Tommy for more attention but he ignores it. “I don’t want to pry but why would you move to America. I bet where you’re from is a lot better than here.” You ask.

“Small Heath wasn’t that much better.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing some strands back into place. “I was always here for work anyways. Then I got a better job opportunity that made me decide to finally move here. Right now everything I’ve seen hasn’t been so bad.” He winked.

You chose to ignore the flirty line he used. “So what is it that you do then?” You asked while bending down to pick up your puppy. You noticed Tommy’s eyes watching you as you bent down, well more like you noticed him watching your boobs. You were wearing a sports bra that just did wonders for your boobs. Despite what people think, you loved your body. That’s why you decided to model for lingerie companies, it wouldn’t have worked.

“I’m a photographer, I used to shoot for independent models but my new job is working for a specific company, I’m very fortunate. I do like to snap a shot of landscape or when I go on hikes, but those I post to my social media.” He explained. “It’s kind of hot out, want to come in? I have some water bottles if you’d like.”

“Sorry Tommy. I would love to but I’m working from home today and should get back.”

“Well, when I get everything together you better come over.” He smiled and put his hand out again. “It was really nice to meet you Y/N.” You take his hand and shake it once more.

“I look forward to seeing you again.” When you entered your home you put Biscuit down and leaned against the front door with butterflies in your stomach. The way Tommy held your gaze and watched you made you squirm.

It’s been 3 weeks since the day you met Tommy and you’ve only seen him in passing since. You both were too busy to stop and talk. The last time you did see him he was leaving his house in the cutest tux ever. You were looking out your window, trying to see if he was with any one and of course he saw you peeking. You didn’t miss the smile he gave you before shutting the blinds. 

A part of your job was to post pictures of yourself in the lingerie you’ve posed in or post the products that you’ve been sent. You finally received the package you’ve been waiting for. The company sent you the prettiest piece of lingerie you’ve ever seen and you had to take some pictures right away. You run to your office to find a note on top of your tripod where your camera normally sits. You go to the note and groan loudly. Your best friend, Matthew, who you gave a key to your house, “borrowed” your camera.

Quickly pulling out your phone you called him. “How dare you steal my camera.” You practically yell when he answers.

“I needed to borrow it, it will be returned, don't worry.”

“What am I supposed to do then! I need my camera.”

“Just ask your hot neighbor to borrow his or to ask him to take your picture. He is a photographer afterall.”

“No why.” You whine. “I can’t show up in lingerie and ask him to take my picture.” You say frustratedly.

“I don’t see why you can’t.” Matthew whispers. “I’m at work. Figure it out. Love you.” he hung up on you. There are two options to get out of this. Change back into what you were wearing and wait or be insane and go ask your neighbor. You chose to be insane.

Quickly you threw on a robe. Tommy’s car was in his driveway so you knew he was home. Soon you were in front of his door holding your robe closed. You knocked and looked to the ground hoping he decided to take an uber to work instead of driving himself. Only a second after you knocked Tommy appeared at the door with a smile on his face, though one of his eyebrows was raised in question.

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Can I come in? I have a favor to ask you.” You said looking around outside.

“Please. Sorry I didn’t offer earlier.” He opens the door wider for you to enter. Gripping your robe harder you walk into his house. There were a few boxes still in his living room but most of his house was all put together.

“I’m really sorry to ask you this but, would you mind helping me out with my work?”

#peaky #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #writers #fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy x reader #tommy shelby #thomas x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #reader #x reader #fluff #modern au

[otame]

Ina11Go Headcanons(trauma edition)

(Trigger Warning, proceed with caution)

(For my Ina11Go Eldritch Raimon Chronicles AU)

•Everyone in Raimon(Go) suffers from PTSD, due to their traumas.

>Tenma walked home to see his mother's dead body, a shot gun in her chest, and his father holding a pistol. Later, he was fortunately arrested, and Tenma ended up in an orphanage that he escaped from.

>Shindou's parents always force him to be this perfect boy, you know what I mean. And they always tell him to stop being a crybaby, it does him no good.

>Tsurugi was raped three times by his aunt, while his parents were abroad for Yuuichi's surgery. After his aunt was arrested, two years later, his parents manipulated and gaslighted him to join Fifth Sector, because of his selflessness to help his brother.

>Shinsuke's parents died in a car accident on his 4th birthday, and he barely managed to make it out alive. His extended family couldn't accept that he lived and his parents didn't, so they always ridiculed him, called him a demon, and always pester him with "I wish you died instead!" or "I wish you're not born!" And it exhausts him.

>Kirino's mother forces her to be a boy, because her mother wanted one, but Kirino was born female. The 2nd year didn't want to, but was threathened by being sold off to some old man if she didn't comply. Kirino secretly wears dresses to comfort herself.

>Aoi was handed over and over to different families, causing her to lose hope in finding a family who'll keep her out of sheer love. So whenever she finds a new friend, she'll be possessive over them, and this typically ends in her friend leaving her because they think she's creepy, when actually she's just scared that they'll get tired of her, so she tries to force this good girl look as much as possible so that her friends won't leave her.

>Hikaru has a lot of issues about himself, mainly because of his last name, or people making him his uncle in their eyes. Even his parents were mad, and they almost killed Hikaru, when they saw him play with a soccer ball. Fortunately, they were arrested, and he ends up in Sun Garden. This was before he moved into Raimon College(my AU's replacement for Raimon Junior High).

>We all know how Kariya ended up being the doubtful, sly prankster he is, but like Aoi, he has his own possessive edge as well. He won't let anybody ruin his family, or take them away from him, by pulling major pranks. Its one of the few times where they can't suspect it's him, because they 'knew' he can't bring his pranks that far.

>Kurama's parents divorced in his first year, mainly because of financial issues, and his father being a drunkard and a womanizer. He stayed in his mother's custody, who wasn't any better; she neglects him, and he often ends up having to cook and feed for himself. He didn't take the whole thing well, and he's actually scared that his friends will leave him if they learn that about him. So, like Aoi and Kariya, he has a possessive edge on his team. He's actually the only one who knows about Kariya's possessive edge, which is why they help each other in shooing or scaring away anyone they deem as a threat to their family.

>Hamano, despite being cheerful and optimistic, is actually nearing suicidal, because of his parents constant fighting and arguing, ending in him being neglected, not cared for, and like Kurama, couln't admit it to his friends, because he didn't want them to treat him any different from how they treat him. He almost suceeded, if it wasn't for another voice nagging him to stay because of Hayami, the one person he's in love with.

>Who, by the way, has anxiety issues, and self esteem issues. Mainly because of his grandparents treating him like a mistake, eversince his parents died due to cancer, and no one would work for money anymore. He was also raped by his cousin, but no one would belive him.

>Midori has anger issues, but that's because of her going into fight or flight mode back then, due to her mother using almost all of the money their father sent from abroad, who died two years ago due to a plane crash, on his way back home. Her mother uses the money on gambling, drinking, and the likes. This causes her to constantly try to knock some sense into her mother, which end up in fist fights, and Midori always wins. Eversince then, her mother ignores her, but does stop the addiction. But Midori knows otherwise;her mother didn't stop.

>Akane's parents always gaslight and ridicule her, saying that she's nothing, she's a mistake, and that she'll never be anything. Well, it's the mother's fault, since she cheated on her husband, and gained unconsented custody of Akane, and moved in with her new boyfriend, who didn't treat her any better. Eversince then, she'd hide her troubles under the gist of her staring, or air-headedness, when it's her actually trying to think of ways to run away, or ask for help.

>Ichino and Aoyama are both staying at Sun Garden, mainly because both of them have abusive parents who use them as punching bags. Aoyama, to be exact, almost commited suicide too, but Ichino caught him in time, and begged him to not go. He didn't let go of Aoyama the whole night, because he had enough of people he loved in his life dying, after his older sister died in a kidnapping, and his younger brother dying of stillbirth.

>Sangoku would always defend his mother from his abusive father, and this ends up in him getting bruises and cuts all over him from being thrown by beer bottles. His father fortunately got arrested, and his mother got a fair salary job, but he sometimes still gets nightmares abour his father's abuse.

>Kurumada's father was widowed, due to his wife dying of tuberculosis. It was Kurumada's breaking point, because he lost his little sister Chichi just two weeks ago before his mother's death. Eversince then, he too, has developed a possessive edge to the team, though not as worse as Aoi's or Kurama's.

>Amagi has been abandoned by his birth parents, so he ends up in his uncle's care, who treated him like a slave, but was saved by his secretly wealthy aunt, who was like his actual mother to him. His birth parents try to convince him to come home or steal money from his aunt, but he declined and shut them off from his life. However, there was a time where he was almost kidnapped by human traffickers, but fortunately, he was saved by his aunt and the police. Turns out, his parents sold him to some shady guy, and was now getting killed for not meeting their end of the deal. He could care less now about then though. However, when Mahoro stopped being his friend, he was still getting over his aunt's death, due to saving him from getting kidnapped again. Right now, he's still planning on trying to get into Sun Garden.

#inazuma eleven go #inazuma eleven #headcanons #trauma #matsukaze tenma #shindou takuto #tsurugi kyousuke #nishizono shinsuke #kirino ranmaru #sorano aoi #kageyama hikaru #kariya masaki #kurama norihito #hamano kaiji #hayami tsurumasa #yamana akane #seto midori #ichino nanasuke #aoyama shunsuke #sangoku taichi #kurumada gouchii #amagi daichi #ptsd #gaslighting #manipulating #abuse

[soniclozdplove]

So I actually played the splatfest for team Rock and my review? Eh, it was okay. They made my fave weapon class super clunky to use and I had way too many disconnects for the internet plan I had. The matchmaking took way too long too, I think they extended the timer on it. Also they lied about skipping the cutscene I watched thay three times and not once did a skip option pop for me.

Good points though, the splatfest atmosphere was amazing, even if I couldn't quite hear the idols in the first half before the tri battles opened up and they switched songs. I just really liked running around in the hub! I bet when it's up and running it's gonna be real fun.

The battles were... they were fun but the stages felt way too small, especially the tri battle stage. I felt I was constant two seconds from being base camped the whole time whenever my team fell back and vice versa plus the new Mahi Mahi was confusing to run around. That's not good, I should know how to play my fave map form Splatoon 1 without having a guide.

All the maps are really confusing so I guess that comes with the chaotic theme they were going with for the gam.

The biggest upset for me is the weapons, specifically the brushes, they were really clunky to use and I hope they patch it. I did discover some cool tricks with the Saber and I really like it the only issue there is the hit box. The closer you are to the target and the more charged it is the stronger the splat, making it a great ambush weapon for 1 to 2 hit kos but also forcing you to play real careful because of how vulnerable you are. It has a decent sub in the form of torpedo but by the time you hit and charge the weapon (due to ink loss) the enemy is already gone or rushing you.

The bow is also a charge weapon. I'm damn lucky I play hammer in Monster Hunter with all these charge weapons I'm dealing with. I'd say this one is mid to long range and it's gimmick is the arrows. The longer you charge them the more precise the arrows are, which then explode a second or two after hitting the target, similar to the torpedo. You can jump between horizontal and vertical shots, horizontal when standing and vertical when jumping. Without the charges it's jsut basic shots and the arrows don't stick around.

I'm sure as people play this game and the bugs get hammered out it'll smooth over and more sticks will be discovered about these newer weapons, subs, and specials but for now I'm just glad I had the experience, little disappointed at what happened to the brush, and had a good time playing a splatfest whenever I wasn't thrown out due to disconnection

Edit: correction I was on team rock not scissors

#splatfest #splatoon3

[narniachronicles]

THE LONG WINTER // THE GREAT THAW // THE GOLDEN AGE

#narniaedit #tconedit #narnia #chewieblog #narnianetwork #tcon #event: the time of the prophecy #type: gif #* #*gif #i tried to use shots from the extended edition but i only think the first one is new... whoops

[a-room-of-my-own]

A while before the latest hoo-ha about Judith Butler, I had just been reading her again. Though she claims her critics have not read her, this simply isn’t the case. I read Gender Trouble when it first came out and it was important at the time . That time was long,long ago. She was just one of the many ‘post-structuralist’ thinkers I was into. I would trip off to see  Luce Irigaray or Derrida whenever they appeared.

I got an interview  with Baudrillard and tried to sell it to The Guardian but they  didn’t know who he was so its fair to say I was fairly immersed in that world of theory.  For a while, I had a part time lecturing job so I had to keep on top of it. Though Butler’s idea of gender as performance was not new , it was interesting.  RuPaul said it so much more clearly in a  quote nicked from  someone else “Honey ,we are born naked, the rest is drag”

What I was looking for again , I guess is not any clarity – her writing is famously and deliberately difficult-  but whether there was ever any sense of the material body. She wrote herself in 2004 “I confess however I am not a very good materialist. Every time I try to write about the body, the writing ends up being about language” . 

Butler from on high ,cannot really think about the body at all which is why they (Butler’s chosen pronoun) are now the high priestess of a particular kind of trans ideology.  The men who worship Butler are not versed in high theory. The fox botherer had a “brain swoon” at some very ordinary things Butler said. Mr Right Side of history nodded along in an interview. Clearly neither of these men are versed in any of this philosophy and would be better off sticking to tax law and the decline of the Labour Party. Butler is simply a totem for them.

Butler said in the Guardian interview for instance  “Gender is an assignment that does not just happen once: it is ongoing. We are assigned a sex at birth and then a slew of expectations follow which continue to “assign” gender to us.”

So yeah? That’s a fairly basic view of the social construction of gender though I take issue with the assigned at birth thing ,which I will come back to and why I started reading her again in the first place.

This phrase “Assigned sex at birth” is now common parlance but simply does not make sense  to me. I am living with someone who is pregnant. I have given birth three times and been a birthing  partner. I know where babies come from. There is a deep disconnect here between language and reality which no amount of academic jargon can obliterate. 

Babies  come from bodies. Not any bodies but bodies that have a uterus. They grew inside a woman’s body until they  get pushed out or dragged out into the world. 

The facts of life that we are now to be liberated from in the form of denial. Only one sex can have babies but we must now somehow not say that. The pregnant “people” of Texas will now be forced into giving birth to children they don’t want because they are simply “host bodies”. The language of patriarchal supremacy and that of some of the trans ideologues is remarkably close, as is their biological ignorance.

There is no foetal heatbeat at six weeks for instance. When a baby is born , doctors and midwives do not randomly assign a sex, they observe it and they do it though genitalia. 

There is a question over a tiny percentage of babies ,less that one percent with DSDs but even then they are sexed with doctors having  difficult conversations with parents about what may happen later.

Somehow, though when I read the way in which this is now all discussed it is clear to me that the people talking have never been pregnant, never had a foetal scan, never been near a birth , never miscarried, do not understand that even with a still birth babies are still sexed and often named. 

If you want to know the sex of your baby you can pay privately and know at 7 weeks ((*49-56 days from the first day of the mother’s last menstrual cycle). A 12 week scan will show it. That is why so many female foetuses are aborted . I have reported on this. 

Talking to paediatricians about this is interesting because they do indeed have to think through these things that we are being told are not real eg. that sex is just a by-product of colonialism for instance.  Sometimes pre-conception , geneticists will be looking at chromosomes because certain diseases are more likely in men or women. Males have a higher risk of haemophilia for instance.  

One doctor told me “When babies are premature, the survival advantage of females over males is well known throughout neonatology. This is sometimes something we talk about with parents when there is threatened premature labour around 23 weeks' gestation and options to discuss about resuscitation and medical interventions. In fertility treatment (or counselling around fertility in the context of medical treatments) it is pretty inherent to know whether we need to plan around sperm, or ova + pregnancy.”

She also said that if she involved in a birth that “assigning” isn’t the word she world use. “Observed genitals a highly reliable observation, just like measuring weight or head circumference which is also done at this time. “ Another doctor said that anyone involved with a trans man giving birth  would be doing the best for the patient in front  of them. 

Sex then is biological fact. A female baby will have all the eggs she will ever have when she is first born which is kind of amazing. It is not bio-essentialist to say that our sexed bodies are different nor is it transphobic to recognise it.

Except of course in my old newspaper ,The Guardian who are now so hamstrung by their  own ideology they have got their knickers in such a twist they can barely walk.  They completely misreported the WiSpa incident , basically ignored the Sonia  Appleby  judgement at the Tavistock. Appleby was a whistle blower ,a respected professional concerned with safe guarding. She won her case. The cherry on the cake this week was an interview with Butler, themselves (?) in which they went on about Terfs being fascists and needing to extend the category of women.

Does anyone EVER stop to think that most gender critical women are of the left, supporters of gay rights, often lesbian and that this is not America? We are not in bed with the far right. This is bollocks. Just another way to dismiss us.  

As we watch Afghanistan and Texas ,to say Butler’s words were tone deaf is to say the least. But they didn’t even have the guts to keep the most offensive stuff in the piece and overnight edited it out without really explaining why : the bits where Butler described gender critical people as fascist. Perhaps because the person their “reporters” had  defended against  transphobia at WiSpa turned out to be a known sex offender,  perhaps because someone pointed out that Butler was throwing around the word fascist rather like Rik Mayall used to do in the Young Ones. 

All of this is rather desperate and readers deserve better. When I left that newspaper I said that I thought and expected editors to stand up for their writers in public. Instead they go into some catatonic paralysis. I may have not liked this interview but it should never have been cut. Stand by what you publish or your credibility is shot.

But this is about more than Judith Butler and their refusal to support women . Butler is not really any kind of feminist at all. What this is about is the large edifice of trans ideology  crumbling when any real analysis is applied. Yes, I have read Shon Faye’s book and there are some interesting points in it and I totally agree that the lives of trans people should be easier and health care better . I have never said anything but that.

What Faye does in the book is say that there can be no trans liberation under capitalism so there will be a bit of a wait I suspect. 

Yet surely it is the other way round and what we are seeing is that trans ideology (not trans people – I am making a distinction here ) represent the apex of capitalism .

For it means that the individual decides their own gendered essence and then spends a fortune on surgery and a lifetime on medication to achieve the appearance of it. Of course lots of people spend a lifetime  on medication but not out of choice.  Marx understood very well that the abolition of our system of production would free up women.

Now it is all about freeing up men. Who say they are women. Quelle surprise.  

 Nussbaum’s famous take down of Butler is premised exactly on the sense of individual versus collective struggle “ The great tragedy in the new feminist theory in America is the loss of a sense of public commitment. In this sense, Butler’s self-involved feminism is extremely American, and it is not surprising that it has caught on here, where successful middle-class people prefer to focus on cultivating the self rather than thinking in a way that helps the material condition of others. “

Such thinking now dominates academia. There is simply an unquestioning  rehearsal of something most of know not to be true thus Amia Srinivasan writes in The Right to Sex  “At birth, bodies are sorted as ‘male’ or ‘female’, though many bodies must be mutilated to fit one category or the other, and many bodies will later protest against the decision that was made. This originary division determines what social purpose a body will be assigned.”

What does ‘sorted’ mean here? A tiny number of intersex babies are born. A tiny number of people are trans and decide to change their bodies. The feminist demand to challenge gender norms without mutilating any one’s body no longer matters. What matters now is this retrograde return  to some gendered soul. This is not something any decent Marxist would have any truck with . Of course one may change over a lifetime and of course gender is never ‘settled.’ We are complex people who inhabit bodies that often don’t work or appear as we want them to.

But not only is there a denial of basic Marxism going on here , what becomes ever more apparent is  that there is a denial of motherhood. Butler said “Yet gender is also what is made along the way – we can take over the power of assignment, make it into self-assignment, which can include sex reassignment at a legal and medical level.”

Self-assignment is key . One may birth oneself. No longer of woman born but self -made. This is a theoretical leap but it also one that has profound implications for women as a sex class. We are really then, just the  host bodies to a new breed of people who self-assign.

Maybe that is the future although look around the word and there isn’t a lot of self-assignment going on. There are simply women shot and beaten in the street, choked to death or having  their rights taken  away. There is no identifying out of this , there is no fluidity here . This is not discourse. It is brutality and do we not have some responsibility to other women to confront male violence ?

Instead the hatred is aided and abetted by so called philosophers describing  other women as Terfs. It is utterly depressing.

The sexed body. The pregnant body. The dying body. The body is in trouble when we can’t talk about it . I thought of Margaret Mary O’Hara’s  beautiful and  strange lyrics and what they might mean. I await my child’s return from the hospital as hers is a difficult pregnancy and thank god they are on the case. The sex of the child she carries does not matter to me at all .

It simply exists. Not in language but within a body. 

Why is that so difficult to acknowledge? 

#gender critical #feminism #transgender #judith butler #suzanne moore

[eureka-its-zico]

Damage

Request: You meet JB in a bar and have a one-night stand

A/N: My friend has asked me for JB fics none stop. I haven’t been able to finish one, because I get stuck in my head and think everything is trash. I think this one is okay, at best. I’ve edited as much as my eyes can stand. Either way, she seemed to enjoy it. I hope you all enjoy it in some way too. Much Love, Jenn

p.s. It’s named Damage because I literally had the song of the same name from H.E.R playing on repeat the entire time.

Jaebum X Reader

Genre: SmUt

Words:5534

Warnings: semi-public sex, rough play, some ass-slaping - you get the picture -

There was a time that the idea of sleeping with a complete stranger from a bar would’ve never crossed your mind. It wasn’t that you were a prude. A part of you secretly wanted to know what it felt like to be so overwhelmed by another that they made you less cautious and more adventurous. No one ever seemed able to stir that emotion in you, however. 

Until you’d met JB. 

Now, as his fingers traced across your skin, his lips kissed at the hollow of your neck, you couldn’t imagine an alternate universe where you didn’t say yes. Where you weren’t pressed into the backseat of a stuffy cab not caring that you had an audience while JB’s hand made its way between your thighs. His mouth hungrily lapping up your moan as his fingers slid under the edge of your panties. 

A part of you should’ve felt embarrassed. You were passengers in this cab. The obvious audience of the older man up front would’ve normally made you shove his hand away with your cheeks pink; pretending to care if they watched. 

But JB was a force you weren’t used to. One that threatened to consume you and god, did you want to be consumed. 

EARLIER

————————-

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be sad forever about that asshole.” 

Your fingers skimmed the paper of your beer smearing an image of a heart in the condensation. Your teeth drawing in your bottom lip as you thought about what your friend was saying. Of course, she was right. It was two weeks, give or take, since you broke up with Mark. You’d had your days of wallowing, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and crying on the couch watching rom-coms and asking why can’t your life be like this? 

There wasn’t any doubt your ex wasn’t off doing the same. Hell, he’d made sure to take pictures of his latest escapades and made sure to share it to his social media. Not that you were looking at any of it or anything. 

“You’re right,” you huffed out in defeat. 

Why was it so hard to let him go? It wasn’t like he’d had such a hard time deciding to end your relationship. 

“I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say it a little louder for me please I’m hard of hearing.”

You shot her a look of disbelief that sent her head falling back with laughter. 

“This one time you might be a little bit right.”

You took a swig of your drink to hide your own smile. 

“Plus, how can you be sad over that loser when the hottest dude is five feet away.”

You followed her eyes to see what had her making such a bold claim. There were plenty of good looking men and women in the bar. How could one person possibly hold the title when your opinion could be different? 

It wasn’t. 

You found him easily. No longer needing the guide of your friend to find who it was that’d caught her attention. And sweet Jesus he was hands down the best looking in the room. 

He was leaning up against the wall. His eyes half crescent moons as he smiled. One hand holding a beer that was close to his lips as he replied back to whatever his friend said. You shamelessly watched how his lips wrapped around the bottle to take a drink. The sharpness of his jaw and the expanse of his neck. 

You wanted to know what he looked like with his mouth on you and tasting the sweetness between your thighs. 

The desire for it caused your legs to squeeze together to give yourself any sort of friction. Your mind still going over the fantasy you were creating with him in the starring role. Suddenly, he was looking back at you. A harsh blush rose to your cheeks at being caught but refused to look away. 

God! What am I doing?! 

You’ve never been the one to make the first move. Of any kind. Eye contact felt like a first move of showing interest, but you were more than interested and a part of you wondered if he could see it. See that even this far between your spaces in the bar how badly you wanted to know how he tasted. 

A gasp brought your attention back to the position of your friend. Her mouth agape in shock but that threatened to spill into a smile at any moment. 

“Hollleeeeey shit! Did you just give that guy ‘fuck me eyes’ from across the bar?”

You scoffed at the idea before shooting a cautionary look back in his direction. Using your elbows that were on the top of the bar you swiveled yourself to face the many rows of liquor. Fighting the urge to look back at him again or acknowledge your friend bouncing in her seat. 

“Yes you fuckin did!”

Your reply was a quick swig of your drink as you tried your best not to grimace at the taste. You’d been babysitting it too long and now it was lukewarm. 

“I've had my heart broken. I’m not dead,” you replied. 

“Let’s go over and talk to them!”

Your head whipped in her direction so fast you swore you’d ended up with whiplash. Yes, you were looking. And yes, this man did provoke unholy fantasies, but that didn’t mean you were ready to be that close. 

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I think this will be good for you.”

She ignored your burst of panic and waved down the bartender who acknowledged her sooner than you would’ve liked. 

“What can I get you ladies.”

“Two shots of tequila, please.”

“What are you doing?” 

She wiggled her brows at you and rubbed her shoulder up against yours. Her weak attempt to pump you up with excitement for whatever diabolical thing she’d planned. 

“Just a little liquid courage before we head on over.”

“Heading towards the door, you mean.”

Your words came out as a grumble. A pout setting in as the bartender set down the small glasses in front of the two of you. Which she quickly slid hers to click beside yours. 

“You, my lovely friend, are going to have both.”

“Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?”

“Nope. Just trying to help you get some guiltless sex with a stranger.”

“Wow. You’re so amazing,” you deadpanned. Your hand snacking out to grab one of the shot glasses downing the first one. You were sure the reaction you were having looked like a cartoon character. God, this stuff was disgusting. “I’m pretty sure that stuff causes forest fires.” 

The bartender offered you a lemon, amusement flashing in his eyes. You were hoping he could see the thank you in yours with your mouth shoved full of lemon. 

You left it sitting in your mouth; teeth clenched tight against the softness and the peel exposed between your lips. You wondered if this was picture worthy and received your answer moments later when your friends’ camera flashed in your face. Your vision erupting in sparks of dark spots that left you unable to see. 

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

With the peel still held between your lips you made a face at her. Her mouth opened to reply, and suddenly it closed. Her eyes wide and darting from you to whoever was now perched beside you. 

You remembered you still had a shot left and decided it was time to meet your fate. Your legs moved to turn you to sit straight on the stool when you realized someone was beside you at the bar. In perfect horror movie fashion, you glanced at your right and saw the man who’d caused your need for liquid courage. 

He was just there. His body casually leaning against the bar with an air of coolness that didn’t seem forced. He was talking with the bartender. The two of them locked in a conversation like they were old friends and catching up. Maybe they were. 

Up close he was even more striking. His hair was perfectly slicked back to make it appear short, but it was anything but. The gel he’d used was beginning to wear off and displayed hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes. 

You wanted to run your hands through it. To grip it as you rode his tongue. 

It felt like he must have had a sensation of what you were thinking. He ended his conversation and turned to look at you. A spark of laughter lit up the dark brown of his eyes and you swore you were swooning in your chair. 

“I see you must really like lemons.”

Your brow furrowed as you wondered what the hell he could be talking about. He must have caught on to your confusion and patted a single digit against the lemon peel still peaking like a smile between your lips. Your eyes shot wide with horror as you not too gracefully spit it out onto the napkin. 

“Oh...my...god,” you whispered at the wood of the bar. Praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Hi!” Your friend shot an arm over you with her hand extended for him to shake. “My name’s Vanessa. This is my lovely friend, Y/N. The lemon sucker.” 

Your head jerked in her direction and you hoped she could see how much you wish you could hit her. 

The man beside you, however, looked nothing but amused and took Vanessa’s hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at his fingers; the way it practically covered all of hers. 

“Nice to meet you both.”

He released her hand and shocked you by leaving his hand open and waiting for you to take. You glanced up at him and then back down to his hand. You took it without waiting too long, because you didn’t want him to think you were rude, or worse, weirder than he probably already did. The minute your hands folded around the other you swore it was electric. 

“My name’s Jaebum. Everyone calls me JB, for short.” 

Jaebum. JB. You would call him whatever he wanted. His voice was soft as he spoke and forced you to move closer to hear him. You wondered if that’d been his plan. It was the only thing you could think of as his thumb caressed over the knuckles of your hand before he took it away. 

You dropped your hand down to the side of your skirt and fought not to rub it against the fabric. The attraction you felt for JB was something that’d come unexpected and you found yourself inexperienced. It felt overwhelming this need to touch him. To be touched in return. To know how he sounded with your lips wrapped around his cock and those same hands on the back of your head. Bending you over and smacking your ass until it was cherry red. 

You were still staring at each other as these devilish thoughts played out in your head. His eyes roamed your face and you wondered what he saw there. If JB could see the dirty scenarios he held the starring role in. His gaze slid over you from the tips of your toes, over the exposed legs from your skirt, your chest, and back up to your face. 

There was no denying he’d thought of his own scenario with you in mind. His pupils fully blown with lust when he brought his eyes back up to you. Your pulse thudded wildly as you struggled to remember how to properly breathe. 

“Did you girls want to come back over to our table?” The question was meant for both Vanessa and you, but when he asked his gaze never left you. He only looked away to point to his indicated spot. “It’s just me and a couple of my friends. I promise, we aren’t weird or anything.”

A bright smile spread across his lips and if you weren’t swooning earlier, you were definitely doing it now. You were nodding your head yes, unsure if you could trust yourself to talk. Vanessa, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have that issue. 

“That would be amazing and so good for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s very vulnerable.”

Oh. My. God. Was she winking like an idiot? 

You looked back at her and couldn’t keep the horror off of her face. Luckily, JB laughed it off. He reached out to grab the drinks he’d ordered and motioned with his head for you girls to follow. You waited for Vanessa to start forward before you fell into step beside her. Your arm shooting out to wrap itself around hers just so you could use it to pull her in tight. 

“What in the hell was that!?”

“I’m trying to help you here. Most men love the idea of a girl on the rebound.”

“Because they think they’re easy, Nessa.”

“Precisely.” 

She flicked her finger up like she’d just made a great discovery. The only thing she was about to discover was that you were, in fact, desperate but for a whole other reason. 

No part of you could remember your ex looking at JB. And while the idea of any sort of relationship with him, physical or otherwise, made you excited there was still that small voice in your head. The not so fun responsible part of you reminded you that you didn’t know him. He could be a weird pervert or a serial killer. Ninety-nine percent of serial killers were usually attractive. 

You let out a sigh not sure how to tell her nicely to butt out. 

“Just, help me less. Ok?”

She regarded you for a moment. Her arm peeling itself out of yours before bringing you in quickly for a one-armed hug. 

“Alright. Girl Scouts honor I won’t say anything else.”

“Thank you!”

And you meant it. Lord knew she only meant well, but in the end it came off embarrassing. Like the two of you were sixteen and in high school again. With you passing notes to all the boys you liked because you were too damn nervous to say anything to their face. You thought it was romantic. In reality, it just seemed well, kinda awkward. 

The two of you stood beside the pool table and you did your best not to fidget with your bag. The weight of six new sets of eyes made you feel like an animal in a zoo. 

“Guys, this is Vanessa and Y/N. I invited them over to hang out with us. If that’s cool.”

The friends all seemed to go from caution to excitement at seeing you in two point five seconds. All of them agreeing it was cool, and waving you all over to find a chair to sit in. 

You were following Vanessa to seats in between two  of his friends, when a soft hand on your arm stopped you. You knew without looking it was JB. Your body reacting instantly to his touch as if it’d been set on fire. 

“You can sit next to me. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Your voice was breathy. Like you were telling him a secret the two of you only needed to hear. The chair in question that sat beside his own, was inches from him. So close that when you sat down your knees were next one another. 

He regarded you briefly before he turned his attention back to his group. His arm snaking around your chair to rest on its back. You were aware that it was a show of dominance. Of signaling to his friends and anyone else who cared to look that you were his. The thought of it sent a thrill through your body of being claimed. Only wishing he would claim you another way too. 

JB’s group of friends were fun and easy to get a long with. One of them in particular, Hyun-Bae, was incredibly funny. He told stories that were entertaining and knew when to use his humor to make everyone laugh. It was enough to make you almost forget the man beside you. Almost. 

You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between everyone talking, JB’s hand that’d rested comfortably on the back of your chair had moved. His fingers brushed along your skin from your shoulder to collarbone. Each stroke deliberate; sexual and not. Like he could read that you found it comforting but also craved his touch. 

You ached with the urge to kiss him. To taste the liquor on his tongue. All those times you turned to imagine yourself leaning in and doing just that, you’d met his gaze. The two of you shared  a look of knowing and wondered if he’d just been waiting for you to close the last inches of space between you. You were looking at each other now; eyes hungrily glancing at the others lips. 

You wanted to be brave. To just close that space and tell him just to take you home. Screw this dance of cat and mouse. You didn’t want to be chased. You wanted to be owned. 

Instead, a soft, “Excuse me,” came from you as you rose up from your chair. You couldn’t get your  feet to walk fast enough to the bathroom. You were moving so fast you practically took someone out on the way inside. Getting inside the bathroom, you quickly shut the door and turned the lock. 

You were instantly greeted by your reflection in the dirty, marker-ridden, mirror. What you could see of yourself was defeated. A huff of frustration left you as you removed your bag from your shoulder and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Your feet scuffing the ground as you took a somber approach to the sink. 

You told Vanessa you could do this. You didn’t need help to tell a hot guy you wanted him to fuck you until your legs were far past jello and more like liquid. And every time you were given the opportunity to do something at all, you backed out. 

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned in. Examining your makeup and how very un-messy it was. 

“Note to self: just fuckin do it.”

Yup. The greatest of pep talks. 

You weren’t ready to leave the sanctity of the bathroom but a knock sounded on the door. Reminding you very quickly that there were actual people who probably needed to use it. You moved to pick up your bag when another knock came. 

“Yea, yea I’m coming. Chill.”

When you opened the door, however, JB was just there. His body pushing into the bathroom causing you to step back to give him room. He closed the door without looking back. His body fully facing you as the door clicked closed behind him. 

“JB? Sorry I was just using the restroom-”

“Is that what that was? I mostly heard talking; no flushing.”

His lips spread in an amused smile no doubt at your expense. Your eyes were probably as white as the moon. How long had he been waiting out here?

“Sorry. I just got a little impatient waiting for you.”

In one fluid motion, his arm snaked around your back, and brought you to his chest. JB was prepared for you and his other hand was already holding your face giving him the perfect leverage to crash his mouth down on yours. The moment your lips met that electricity you’d felt earlier flared back to life. This time, it flared across your skin and sparked in every spot he touched. 

The kiss started out a brush of lips and soon became more. His tongue danced at the edge of your bottom lip and you gladly opened up to him. Your hands plunging to make a mess of his perfectly gelled hair at the same time his tongue slipped inside your mouth. 

You were eager to respond. Eager to caress his tongue with yours. His mouth tasted of the bittersweet liquor he’d sipped on for the last hour. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to taste yourself on his lips made your body ache to be touched in other places. For your fantasies of his mouth on you to begin here. You didn’t care where. 

JB seemed to understand what you needed. He broke from the kiss fast and turned you around. His body pressed against your back and his hands at the edge of your skirt. You watched in the mirror as he moved your skirt up to your hips exposing your thong to the room. 

He watched you, his lips hovering over your ear before giving it a playful nip, and those same hands were now laced in the strings. JB moved back just enough to squat down so his hands could move them down your legs until he reached your ankles. 

“Step out.”

You followed his command without question. Your head tilting back to watch the little bit of cloth he held in his hand get scrunched up even smaller and placed inside the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and your body froze with anticipation. Whatever he would ask you to do, you knew you would comply. 

“Spread your legs.”

The demand in his voice was feverish. His own need on display as his hand caressed up your calf until it was between your thighs. A finger teasingly moved across your opening, causing a soft gasp to exit from your lips. You did as you were instructed and waited until you heard an approving, “Hm,” from his lips. 

The room swelled as the anticipation grew. The reflection you’d seen moments ago was washed away and the woman who’d taken her place was eager and ready to offer up her own demands. 

JB moved to stand on his feet with his hands traveling along the curve of your legs and up onto your hips. There his fingers dug into the soft flesh as he leaned into your back, his eyes on yours in the mirror, as he spoke into your ear, “Place your hands on the sink.”

“Spank me first.”

A shiver of shock ran through you. You couldn’t believe you’d said it, but after your request had left you, you’d refused to take it back. Your body craved to be reprimanded by his hands and the smirk on his lips told you plainly he was more than happy to oblige. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please spank me. Please, JB.”

His hand curled up to wrap around your throat as his index finger danced at the edge of your lips. 

“How bad do you want it?”

“I want I-“

The smack reverberated like thunder in the small room. The sting was instant and beautiful. The heat between your legs was aching and your ass jetted against his jeans for any kind of friction. JB stepped back, denying you any form of relief, and landed another smack on your exposed cheek. 

This one made your knees wobble as the pleasure rolled through you. Your hands on the sink was the only thing that saved you from showing him what he’d done. 

“You love that don’t you?”

JB already knew you did, but he wanted to hear you. He needed to hear you say how much you loved feeling his hand leaving its mark, red and angry, on your skin. 

“Yes,” you gasped. “It feels so good.” 

He landed another smack and you couldn’t keep yourself quiet anymore. Your moan loud and aching like your pussy. Luckily, his hand was still on your throat and silenced you by placing his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them immediately and this time you could feel JB rut against your ass. The hardness of his cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans gave away just how turned on he was at your bathroom escapades. 

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth and, with the same fingers, slick and wet, placed it between your legs. The two digits moving to slide between your folds. First, scissoring around your clit; caressing the delicate bud until you gave him the moan he worked for. 

When the soft sound left you JB slid them deep inside you causing the noise to become louder. A shudder ran through your body as you backed up into him. 

His fingers removed themselves suddenly, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from escaping you. A whine you were sure sounded like you were close to tears. JB gave your ass another smack and all it did was drive the need inside you closer to madness. 

His hands planted themselves onto your ass and you felt him kneel down. Those two strategically placed hands lifting up the flesh there leaving your pussy exposed and aching in his view. Your hands were gripping the porcelain of the sink so tight you’d thought it’d crack. Your body trembling in anticipation of what he might do and the need to cover yourself up playing tug-of-war in your head. 

The idea of any sort of hiding vanished when his mouth planted itself between your legs. His tongue snaking out to flick across your clit made you back up to greet his mouth. JB quickly took that moment to slide his tongue from clit to ass. The sensation was so foreign and new to you, you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure you got quickly washed the thought away. 

JB gave you no time to pull yourself together. His face was back between your legs with an eager tongue to lick up every last drop. His tongue swirled around your clit and sent light flicks when you were least expecting it. Each time your legs threatened to crumble, but JB held you there with steady hands.

His tongue explored you thoroughly and put to his memory what made your knees weak. What caused a soft mulling sound of need to claw up from your throat. And what caused your grip on the sink to become almost violent. 

Between each languid lick his tongue would find itself taking long strides all the way up and back down to your peak. Your body had now grown accustomed to the new sensation, and you welcomed it greedily as you pushed back against his face. 

When JB knew you were so close to your sweet release he focused his tongue more on your swollen bud. Each new caress of his tongue gradually made it harder for your arms to hold you up. For your legs to keep from shaking uncontrollably. 

Your orgasm continued to grow; blossoming between your folds with an ache that your body felt. You were so, so close and with a final thrust of his tongue you felt your world spin and that sweet heat between your legs finally sent shockwaves all over your body. 

You came moaning so loud anyone else would’ve thought you were screaming. Your head thrown back and riding the sensation of his greedy mouth taking everything you had to offer. 

When his lips finally released from you, your body was still coming down from your orgasm. The loud panting that came from you as you leaned against the sink completely spent. You watched in the mirror as he pulled a golden foil packet from his pocket. His eyes sinfully watching you as he ripped it carefully with his teeth. JB’s finger moved quickly to take out the slick rubber from the packet and begin to work it down his shaft. 

You’d been so consumed with recovering from his tongue that you hadn’t realized when he’d taken his cock out of his jeans that were now shameless at his ankles. He put a few fingers inside your wetness that caused you to gasp. Your body was still recovering from what had just taken place. 

He used your cum to lubricate himself and placed himself at your entrance. Already the tip of him stretching you out with the delicious sting that told you he was thick. You couldn’t wait. 

You moved to push back into him to help him inside and he pulled away. His hand smacking down on your ass making you even more eager. 

“Patience is a virtue.”

He tried to be funny, but his voice was deep and throaty with his own lust. You were close to pleading with him again like before, but he let it be known quickly he had no intentions to wait. 

JB slid inside you and you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. The feel of him making your breath catch. His girth much thicker than you’d imagined, and your body shook from the pleasure of feeling yourself stretch around him. 

His thrusts started off slow until he knew you’d had enough time. His hands found an anchor on your hips and used them to pull you in to meet his hips. A string of curse words fell from your mouth as your hips rocked back into him. 

Each movement felt like he was going deeper. JB’s hands on the cheeks of your ass kept you spread open to him and left no friction to catch his thrusts. Every single one was felt as he buried himself inside you in a rhythmic timing that left you moaning. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror, and glanced over to watch him as he worked. The way his hips bucked up only to be brought down. His hands stationed on your hips and bruising the flesh there as his grip got tighter. JB looked up and caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. His eyes locked with yours as he continued that unrelenting pace. 

He removed a hand from your ass and used it to wrap back around your neck. When he knew he had a good grip, he used it to pull you close to his chest. The angle of him in this new position somehow made him feel like he was pushing into your gut. 

Your mouth opened to make another sound, a moan or a scream you weren’t sure which, when that hand in your throat tilted your mouth towards him. His own came crashing down on your lips with his tongue that tasted of you slipping inside. You eagerly opened your mouth to him, and your tongue quickly moved to get a taste. 

JB deepened the kiss as his hips began to thrust harder into you. The movement building up your orgasm with each brutal movement until it threatened to spill over. 

“You taste so good with me on your lips.”

Your words fell earnest from your lips. You meant every one of them. You’d never tasted yourself so pretty on anyone else’s lips. JB obliged as he took your lips back. His mouth silenced another moan as his last free hand found its way back to your clit. Your body jumped at the added sensation. Your mouth tore away from his as another moan dripped from your lips. 

You were so close. You could fill yourself ready to cum if only he would let you. JB must have been close too, because his thrusts started becoming more violent and sporadic. Hitting in all the right places.

 At the same time as his fingers made small circles around your clit, a singular hard thrust of his hips sent his cock deep inside you. Your vision erupted in a sea of white. Your orgasm sent your body rutting back against him. 

He rode your orgasm and somehow made it grow in intensity as he continued to move his hips. His own breathing going ragged as you felt him finally release into you. 

When you both were able to breathe again, you’d realized you were laying over the sink. JB’s forehead resting on your back as you both struggled to regain your composure. 

JB was the first to move. The first to begin the arduous process of cleaning up. Like a voyeur, you watched him as he threw away the spent rubber and tuck himself back inside his jeans. A smirk creased your lips when you noticed he now had noticeable wet spots on his tee shirt. 

“You know, I don’t even know anything about you.”

You weren’t sure why you made the comment or why it mattered. You’d just had sex with the man in a damn bar bathroom. But JB didn’t seem to mind. His own smile curling his lips as he salvaged what he could of his hair. 

“What would you like to know?”

“Well,” you began as you started to situate your skirt. “What’s your favorite color?”

It was a silly question. By the look on JB’s face, he knew it was, but he humored you anyways. 

“It used to be blue, but I think red might be a new favorite.” 

“Why is that?”

You were wondering where your panties had gone until you spied a bit of the black cloth hanging from his pocket. JB walked over to you in a few steps and planted a soft kiss down on your lips. One that spoke plainly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see each other. 

“Because it currently matches the color of your ass.”

JB was out the door and in the bar’s hallway before you’d even got a chance to respond. 

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[ericsangyeon]

addicted - l.sy

‘He was like fire, she was his igniter. Together they were each other's addictions.”

pairing: sangyeon x female! reader

word count: 7.0k

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

theme: gang au sorta??

warnings: SMUT!!, profanity, drinking, guns, blood, kidnapping, bang chan and skz are villians

a/n: hey guys! i wanted to try writing a fic bc why not! this is my first tme ever writing smut so be nice. also this was edited many times but there could be mistakes so just bare with me. enjoy it! i worked really hard hehe -t :D

playlist moodboard

~

“Kevin oh my god. I'm not going to that criminal ball.” I roll my eyes at my best friend.

“Pretty please? You can finally meet Jacob! And I'm pretty sure a certain someone wants you there too,” Kevin smirks from the other side of the work area. I stop cleaning the countertops and stare up at him with wide eyes.

Kevin, and his boyfriend Jacob, are members of the underground mafia group TBZ, which never gets brought up when I'm with Kevin because he knows it makes me uncomfortable. That was until Lee Sangyeon came into the picture. Sangyeon is the leader and “big boss” (as Kevin calls him) of TBZ, and has somehow found interest in me. Ever since Kevin brought him into the cafe a month ago during one of my shifts, I kept bumping into him everywhere. From work, to campus, to even near my apartment. He tries to make small talk with me, which I always ignore and keep distance from him. I see him all the time despite wanting to, and I want nothing to do with him…. even though he literally looks and talks like an angel sent from heaven. I'm positive there is some sort of an attraction between the two of us. But don't tell anyone I said that. Lee Sangyeon is hopelessly attractive and I couldn't help myself to have developed a crush on him. If it wasn't for his shady career choice, I would have hooked up with him in an instant.

“How many times do I have to tell you Kevin? I want nothing to do with him,” I cry while Kevin snickers.

“He's not even that bad, he only hurts people who have wronged him” Kevin explains.”But never mind about him, Jacob really wants to meet you and you said you’re free Friday so please, please pl-”

“Fine oh my god.” I huff while Kevin claps, pleased with himself. “One problem, I have nothing to wear.”

“Not to worry about that sweetheart, I got that covered. Just text me your measurements.” Kevin says. I was going to try to argue with him but I knew he would win no matter what, so I just shot him a thumbs up.

“Anyways babes I gotta go to class now. See ya y/n!” Kevin grins, blew me an air kiss which I caught with a small smile, and walked out of the cafe.

I sigh and put the cleaning supplies away. As I went to greet a customer, all I could think was - it's just a ball, with your best friend and his boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

~

On Thursday night, as I was getting ready to make dinner, there was a knock on my apartment door. I went to answer it, but found no one there when I opened it. Instead, a white box with a small bag on top, both had my name on it. “Oh yes.” I thought to myself. “The criminal ball.”

I grabbed both items and brought them to my room to open them. I unsecure the first box to be greeted to white tissue paper and a note on top, which I pick up and read the writing.

“This colour will look ravishing on you. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Or at least that's what I thought it said. It was written in a script that I had never seen before, and it certainly wasn't Kevin’s handwriting. Maybe Jacob’s? I put the note aside and unwrap the tissue paper to take out the dress and my jaw drops. I pull out a ball gown that was wine red and had a lace strapless top with a semi-poofy skirt attached. Below it were gold open toed high heels. I laid everything down on my bed and reached for the small bag that was on top. Without checking first, I pull out what was in that bag and gasp. In my hands is a beautiful gold mask with black silk fabric to wrap around my eyes. Fuck. Kevin never mentioned it being a masquerade ball? Now I have a higher chance of running into Lee Sangyeon since I probably won’t be able to tell who's who.

I send Kevin a quick text saying thank you for the dress, cursing him out for not telling me that piece of info. To finish my day, I made my dinner and went to bed early.

~

Friday night at 6:45pm, found me applying my last coat of lipstick as I stood up from my vanity chair. Staring back at me in the mirror was a completely different person. I loosely curled my long straight hair so it was falling down my back in waves. My makeup was not too heavy, yet not too light. My eyeshadow was a nude colour to contrast with my mask, as well as my lipstick was wine red to match my gown. The dress and shoes fit me perfectly (thanks Kevin), as well as the finishing touch, the gold mask.

My phone beeps and I looked down to see a text that the car Kevin sent for me was here, so I grabbed my phone and clutch and locked up my apartment. “Goodbye bed, I’ll see you later tonight.” I thought to myself, smirking.

The car waiting for me downstairs was gorgeous and sleek, and when I entered the back seat, the driver tipped his hat at me and we were on our way.

After driving 20 mins out of the city, the driver turns onto a single sided road where in the distance, I could see a huge house with bright lights shining.

“Oh my god.” I whispered to myself as the driver pulled up to a mansion - no - castle with a staircase leading to the entrance. The car stops and I could feel myself start to get nauseous. The driver came to open my door, lending me a hand so I could get out of the car safely.

“Have a great evening, Miss y/n.”

“Thank you, I do hope so.” I smile softly as I turned to walk up the staircase on this warm June evening.

As I was walking in the big hallway that led to what I'm guessing is the ballroom, I went over my rules for tonight. 1) Don't trip 2) stay with Kevin 3) avoid Sangyeon at all costs.

But of course, when the guards opened the big double doors for me to enter, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me as I walked further into the room. I see someone come forward from the crowd of people and my eyes go wide because I know it is not Kevin or Jacob.

Lee Sangyeon is walking towards me like he had been waiting for this moment, and there was nothing I could do about it.

He looks amazing of course, like a walking marble statue that came to life. His light brown hair was pushed back to reveal his amazing eyebrows and smirking lips and he was dressed in a black velvet suit that was so low cut that I could see a glimpse of his defined pecs. He wore a black velvet mask over his brown eyes. Sangyeon had me very much weak at the knees right now so thank god everyone went back to minding their own business.

“Y/n! I'm so glad you could make it.” He smiles at me. That goddamn smile. “You look exquisite.” Sangyeon said to me as he reached down, grabs my hand and softly kisses it while staring at me.

My breath hitches. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” I softly smile at him. “Now excuse me,” I whisper, attempting to create some distance. But his hand on mine got tighter.  “May I have this dance?” Sangyeon asks. I nod my head, not sure what took over me. He softly smiles at me and leads me toward the dance floor, where other couples are dancing already. As we were nearing the dance floor, I felt myself trip over my gown. Before I could faceplant with the floor, rough hands were on my waist pulling me up.

“Be careful y/n.” Sangyeon chuckles and I thought I would throw up on his designer shoes.

He puts my hands on his neck and grabs my waist to pull me close to him. Sangyeon starts to sway me back and forth, eyes never leaving mine. As we danced for a few minutes, I felt his thumb lightly brush against my hip bone and I saw him slightly leaning his face towards mine. I finally jumped out of the trance he put me in and unwrapped my arms from his neck.

“I can’t do this. Excuse me.” I told Sangyeon as I brushed past him, leaving him on the dancefloor alone.

I speed walk over to the bar and spot a familiar black head of curls standing with a brunette boy wearing a similar tux.

“Where have you been, asshole?” I yell behind Kevin, making him jump and then smile at me.

“Hey y/n you made it! Meet Jacob, my boyfriend.” He gestures towards the man next to him wearing the same mask.

“Nice to meet you, Jacob. Kev, I'm getting a drink and then calling a cab to leave. I can’t be here.” I say while looking around.

Before Kevin could say anything back, I turned my back to him and ordered red wine from the nearest bartender. I sigh and drink my wine and look over at the guy who is standing next to me.

“Rough night?’ He smiles at me.

“You could say that.” I smile back as I drank more of my wine.

He chuckles and extends his hand to me.”I’m Bang Chan.”

“Y/n.” I shake his hand back.

His smile faded once I said my name.”You’re Lee’s girl?”

I stare wide eyed at him. “I'm who's girl??”

Before he could answer me, a body was standing between us. Sangyeon.

“Piss off Bang, she's mine.” Sangyeon growls at him.

“Excuse me?” I said but no one seems to hear me.

“Chill out Lee, I was just getting to know her, but I’ll leave.” Bang Chan waves bye to me behind Sangyeon’s back and walks away.

Sangyeon turned around and looked at me, his defined jaw clenching tightly.

“Y/n, we are leaving.” He states.

“I am not going anywhere with you!” I yell back while a muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches  his hands into a fist.

“Y/n. I suggest you go with him before he tries to shoot someone, because he will.” Kevin appears and says behind me, squeezing my shoulder. I just nod my head at Sangyeon. Kevin would never put me in danger. Right?

Before I could even say bye, Sangyeon grabs my hand and is leading me out the ballroom door, out of the castle and towards his car.

He opens the passenger seat car door for me. “Get in.” He says to me. I glare at him as I get in slowly.

Sangyeon shuts the door and walks over to the driver side, gets in, takes his mask off, and starts the car without even saying anything. And we are off to god knows where.

The entire drive was silent. Sangyeon is gripping the wheel tightly, rough fingers scattered with rings turning white. I'm too scared to move, only moving my hands to remove my mask and my heels that were starting to hurt my feet.

20 minutes later, we are back in the city and Sangyeon is pulling into a parking garage surrounded by guards. He pulls into a parking spot, and leaves the car after stopping it. I open the car door to follow him, barefoot and all.

In the elevator I kept trying to glance over at Sangyeon, but he’s looking straight ahead, defined jaw still clenched. The elevator door opens and I gasp. I walk out behind Sangyeon to see a beautiful penthouse common area surrounded by glass windows overlooking the city night sky.

Before I could even admire the place and the city lights that surrounded the room, my back is being pushed against a hard wall to face a livid Sangyeon. He grabs  my wrists and leans in.

“How dare you talk to other men, especially him.” Sangyeon growls in my ear. “You’re mine.”

I stare at him in disbelief as he faces me again. “I-I will never be yours. You can't tell me what to do.”

A smirk slowly appears on his face. “Oh yeah? We will see about that, princess.”

Before I could even think of a witty response back, Sangyeon grabbed my face and his lips were on mine, and I felt my tough interior crumble as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him even closer, bodies touching.

He kisses me again. And again. Like he is possessing me. And it was working as I kissed him back hard. “You are mine” Sangyeon whispers against my lips. “No one else’s.” Sangyeon starts kissing down my neck, lightly sucking on certain parts, while I’m biting my lip trying to hold back my moans. It felt so goddamn good, but I'm stubborn and didn't want him to have the upper hand. Sangyeon sucks hard on the crook of my neck, making me release my lips and moan as I feel him smirk against my neck. He won, I lost and now I am melting into his touch.

Sangyeon kisses my shoulders and exposed collarbones, stops and chuckles into the crook of my neck.

“You know I picked this dress for you. Not Kevin.” he says while unzipping my gown.

“What?” I whisper, shocked.

“You heard me.” Then my dress is on the ground, leaving me in just my black strapless bra and panties.  Sangyeon is staring at my body with lust covered eyes as I just stare back at him, both of us breathing heavily, a boner starting to appear in his velvet suit pants.

“Wow, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He says quickly before kissing me again hard on the lips, shoving each other's tongues deep inside our mouths.

“Jump” He mumbles against my mouth and I obey, wrapping my legs around him as he carries me to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss.

When we enter his room, he lays me down softly on the huge mattress and proceeds to take my bra off, leaving me topless.

“God, these tits.” I hear him growl as I hiss at the cold air hitting my bare breasts, but the hissing quickly turns into moans as Sangyeon takes my right nipple into his mouth and sucks on it while playing with the other one using his hand.

“Fuck.” I moan loudly, mouth parting.

After rotating, sucking and playing with my breasts, Sangyeon removes his mouth from my nipple and starts to kiss down my stomach, inching towards my panties.

“You're such a good girl for me.” He coos on my stomach as I moan and squirm. Sangyeon brushes his fingers lightly against the fabric of my panties and looks up at me and mouths “you sure?” I nod my head back. He smiles before removing my panties with his teeth. I am now bare naked in front of a fully clothed Lee Sangyeon.

Sangyeon positions himself right in front of my pussy and spreads my legs open as I gasp and watch him lean down. He kisses and sucks on both my thighs, guaranteeing hickeys in those spots later on.

“You’re so fucking ethereal, Y/n.” Sangyeon mumbles and kisses the tops of my thighs softly, and before I could even think, his mouth was on my clit and I scream.

“FUCK Sangyeon oh my god!” I arch my back and moan loud as he licks into my clit.

“So wet me for me already.” He murmurs against my pussy.

He starts to suck and kiss my clit and I can’t breathe. I could feel his tongue exploring my entire pussy, eating it up as if it was his favorite food. My hands found his soft light brown hair and as I ran my hands through it, he sucked on my clit even harder. After for what seemed like seconds, Sangyeon comes up for air and proceeds to put a finger slowly in my hole, pumping in and out.

“You tasted so good, I can’t wait to see how you take my fingers and then my cock.” Sangyeon rasps out as he adds another finger as I'm a moaning mess below him.

“FUCK! Im gonna-” “Cum for me babygirl.” He says while pumping his fingers faster. I arch my back and scream his name while I cum onto his rough digits. He removes them from my pussy and sucks on the juices that got on them.

“Tastes so sweet.” He says while licking his fingers clean and staring directly at my hooded eyes and parted mouth.

Before I can even catch my breath, his lips are on mine quickly, stands up from the bed and unbuttons his blazer, revealing his amazing toned upper body and taking off his pants and boxers, cock slapping against his abs. He was huge, I gulp knowing that that's going to be inside me soon.

“I'm on the pill!” I hear myself blurt out. Sangyeon chuckles at that.

“Good to know y/n.” He says with a smile while running a hand through his hair before positioning himself over my body, hands on each side of me and aligning his cock with my hole.

“This is gonna hurt.” I thought to myself, since the last time I had sex was high school and it was awful to say the least.

Sangyeon starts to slide his dick in slowly and I can’t breathe again.

“Fuck. You're such a tight baby girl.” He rasps out as I let out a string of curses.

Sangyon thrusts into me slowly at first, but when he realizes i'm no longer screaming and just moaning, he removes his cock and slams it back into me hard and fast, which makes me lose my mind. He swears under his breath a few times before he speeds up the movements. I wrap my arms and legs around him, leaving scratches on his back as he leans closer to me and touches his forehead with mine.

“You're so beautiful sprawled out like this under me princess.” he growls into my ear as he thrusts even harder into my pussy, making both of us swear and moan each other's names as I move my hands from his back to his hair and he moves his to play with my nipples.

Between Sangyeon pinching my nipples and his cock tearing me open, the pleasure flowing through right now is something I have never felt before.

“Shit y/n!” Sangyeon grunts and thrusts hard once more into my pussy and pulls his dick out and uses his right hand to pump out his orgasm all over my stomach. His other hand reaches down to rub my clit in circles while kissing my neck and leaving more hickeys to help ride out my second orgasm of the night.

“Fuck Sangyeon!” I scream as I release all over his fingers once again. He licks it up again and mumbles “so sweet princess.” while looking at my dilated pupils.

He gets off me and rolls over so that he's beside my overstimulated body but head is tilted towards my direction.

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks me, concerned eyes looking over my shaking body that's struggling to even look at where he is.

“I'm amazing.” I respond back softly, him sighing in relief as he strokes my cheek with his knuckle.

“I've wanted to do this for so long.” He whispers and smiles softly at me.

“Me too.” I whisper back smiling as he kisses my lips softly and jumps out of bed, and runs into the connected bathroom fully naked leaving me alone in his huge bed, body paralyzed.

Sangyeon returns with a washcloth and a bowl of warm water and moves my shaking body so I'm lying on his leg while he dips the cloth in the water and starts to clean me up.

“You did so well for me. You were so beautiful when you came. So beautiful for me.” He murmurs to me fondly, rubbing the cloth over my body tenderly as I'm falling in and out of slumber. As I fall asleep, Sangyeon gets into bed next to me and tucks us both in. He kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around my waist and I rest my head on his chest.

“What a night.” I think to myself before dozing off in Sangyeons strong arms, moonlight shining through the huge windows.

Tomorrow is a new day, where we decide what happens next. But one thing's for sure.

I am addicted to Lee Sangyeon.

~

Light shines through the windows as I open my eyes to an unfamiliar surrounding, and then it hits me. I had mindblowing sex with Lee Sangyeon and now I am lying naked, tangled in his bedsheets. I feel an arm loosely draped around my bare waist. As I sigh and glance over next to me, I find Sangyeon lying on his side, staring at me with fond eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He whispers to me in his deep morning voice. Swoon.

“Good morning, handsome.” I whisper back to him with a smile on my face.

I untangle myself from his arm, and attach my lips softly to his. Sangyeon does not react at first, but proceeds to kiss me back softly and full of tenderness as he cups my face into his hands. I break the kiss and lay my head on his bare chest.

“Last night was amazing.” Sangyeon murmurs into my hair and kisses my temple as I nod back.

Oh fuck, I just remembered. I sat up and faced the man with wide eyes.

“What's wrong baby?” Sangyeon asks, genuinely concerned.

“Fuck, what do I tell Kevin?” I gape at him.

Sangyeon chuckles loudly, eyes crinkling as he grabs my waist and pulls me down towards him. He tickles me, making me laugh.

After lying in bed for what seemed like hours and just talking, Sangyeon reaches over to the night table next to him. He grabs his phone and starts to furiously type as I just stare at his fingers flying across the screen.

“I told Jacob he is in charge over at the house this weekend, which means I get to spend it all with you.” He says as he puts his phone back down. Apparently, now I was spending the weekend at Sangyeon’s luxury penthouse. Good thing I didn’t have work this weekend.

After taking a shower in Sangyeon’s massive ensuite bathroom (and looking at myself in the mirror, in shock at the sight of my hickeys across my body), I changed into the clothes he left me, which seems to be his boxers and a blue and pink pullover sweater. I walk out of the bedroom towards the kitchen to find a very shirtless Sangyeon putting waffles on the island counter. He briefly explained to me earlier that he sent all his staff home, including his cooks, so it could just be us in the penthouse.

“Wow, waffles? You really know the way to a girl's heart.” I say amused as I take a seat on one of the island chairs.

He laughs loud and leans over the island, arms resting on the counter. “It's one of the only things I know how to make, so expect take out the rest of the weekend.” Sangyeon says with a smile on his beautiful face as I wolfed down the waffles in front of me.

“One day I’ll teach you how to cook.” I wink at him.

Sangyeon grabs my hand softly and rubs his thumb over my knuckles and kisses them softly. “I would love that, y/n.” He says with a smile on his face.

The rest of the day is spent just relaxing. Sangyeon shows me around his penthouse, from his impressive indoor gym to his walk in closet in which he implies that will once be mine as well. I ignore his comment. Afterwards, he shows me the tv room where a massive flat screen was attached to the wall and asks me to pick a movie, which I pick The Notebook.

“Really y/n?” Sangyeon rolls his eyes as he sets the movie up.

“Yes Sangyeon really. Now come sit here and enjoy.” I respond as I pat the spot on the leather couch next to me.

After the movie, and laughing at an almost crying Sangyeon, I go to retrieve my phone from my clutch to find 15 missed calls from Kevin.

“Oh good! He didn't kill you!” Kevin cries in my ear after picking up after the first ring.

“Yes Kev, I'm totally fine.” I respond quietly.

“Did you guys fuck?” Kevin asks and when I don’t respond, he screams into the phone, which makes me cringe and move the device away from my ear.

“OMG I KNEW IT YOU HAVE TO TELL ME EVERYTHING! WAS HIS DICK AS BIG AS JACOB AND I THOUGHT?” He yells into the phone as I softly chuckle and proceeds to tell everything to a panicking Kevin.

“Holy shit. I owe Eric $50.” Kevin sighs into the phone after I explained everything to him.

“You were betting on me? Anyways I don't even wanna know.” I say annoyed.

“Are you guys like a thing now?” He asks me.

“I'm not entirely sure.” I reply unsure.

“Well no matter what, I support you sweetcheeks.” Kevin assures.

I snort. “Thanks Kev, right back at you. Gotta go now eat dinner, I'll update you later.”

Kevin laughs. “Enjoy Sangyeons big d-” I hung up on him.

That night found Sangyeon and I, fully clothed, cuddled in bed and holding each other, just listening to each other's heartbeat and making small talk.

“Sangyeon, how did you become the leader of TBZ?” I asked, looking up at him from where my head was on his chest.

He sighs and looks straight ahead. “For generations, a Lee has always led the gang, no matter what. It was between my cousins and myself, but my elders picked me, as my dad was the former leader before he passed and I've always been a leader, even since I was a young boy,” Sangyeon replies.

“I’m so sorry.” I say to him. He smiles softly and kisses my cheek.

“Don’t worry about me princess. Tell me, what are you studying?” He asks me.

“I'm studying childhood studies and english lit  so after I graduate I can enroll in a teachers college. I wanna be an elementary school teacher.” I answer him proudly.

Sangyeon smiles at me fondly. “You will be an amazing teacher.” He says while stroking my face with his hands. He kisses me softly as I melt into his touch.

After not being so sure about Sangyeon, I have come to realize how amazing he is. I can feel myself starting to like him more and more each day.

I am his and he is mine and in the end, it's him and I.

~

Months pass, and Sangyeon and I can’t get enough of each other. Everyday when I finish my shift at work, he picks me up and we either go to his place or mine to have dinner. Last week I even taught him how to boil pasta! But, sometimes we don’t even make it to dinner because I end up riding him in the back of his luxury car. Whoops.

One day while we were lying in bed after having sex, I sat up.

“Wait Sangyeon, what are we?” I asked him, facing where he was lying on his back.

Sangyeon sat up next to me.  “Well y/n, I'm extremely fond of you and think you are the most intelligent and beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on, and I wish to give you nothing but happiness and satisfaction. I would love nothing more than for you to be my girlfriend,” He says to me, a glimmer in his eyes.

I stare at him, shocked because no one has ever said anything like this to me, and then I felt myself smile at him as I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

“Yes Lee Sangyeon, I will be your girlfriend. I will be yours.”

He smiles wide back at me. “Then you are all mine.” He whispers back as he connects his lips with mine for a passionate kiss.

Kevin thinks it’s hilarious that I wear more turtlenecks more often, which always makes me turn beet red. Because when Sangyeon and I have sex, he doesn’t just bite, he chews on my body like a fucking dog (“Doesnt it feel so good though?” “Kevin I swear to god.”) I have also gotten to meet Sangyeon’s entire gang, made up of 11 men including himself, and watching Sangyeon speak to them so confidently and leader-like makes my heart flutter. Yeah, I definitely think I’ve fallen in love with Lee Sangyeon.

A rainy Thursday afternoon found me finishing up my shift at work, getting ready to close the cafe as the only employee left. Sangyeon had texted me earlier saying he couldn't pick me up today due to an important meeting, so I was stuck walking home alone. Which was fine with me since my apartment was only a ten minute walk from the cafe.

As I was locking up the cafe doors, I heard a car engine behind me. I turned around smiling, expecting to see Sangyeon, but my smile faded, when the window opened and Bang Chan was in the passenger seat, pointing a gun at me.

“Y/n. Get in the car right now so no one gets hurt.” He commands me in a monotone voice.

“Never.” I sneer back at him and start to back away from the car.

“Fine. Guess we are doing this the hard way.” He replies.

Before I could sprint away, someone appeared behind me, put a cloth to my mouth and grabbed my waist. As the world around me went black, all I could think was, “Lee Sangyeon is going to murder you for stealing his girl.”

Blood. Blood is dripping from a gash in my forehead when I regain consciousness. I look around frantically to find myself in what looked like an abandoned warehouse with my hands and legs tied together with heavy rope.

“Help!” I scream loudly, but that did not do anything for my situation. Instead, Bang Chan enters with another man holding a rifle and I feel another scream forming in my throat. The rope tied around my hands and legs were digging into my flesh and I could feel blood emerging from them.

“Ah y/n! Lee’s playtoy! Glad to see you awake!” Bang Chan claps and smiles at me wickedly while I just glare back.

“TBZ knows you're with us sweetheart.” He says. “We told them it's either you or the money.”

My mouth opens and then closes. “What money? I swear I don't know anything, he never tells me about his work,” I cry to him.

“LIES!” Bang Chan screams. “Han. Go get her.” The other man - Han - walks over to me, ignites the rifle and puts it against my head hard. I start to cry even harder and squirm in my spot even though I feel the rope burning getting worse.

“We are going to try this again y/n. Where is the money?” Bang Chan yells into my face. I spat at him and Han forced the gun to my already bleeding forehead harder.

“I'm done. Shoot her.” Bang Chan shouts.

“No, please don't shoot!” I cry, knowing nothing will make a difference.

As I felt Han press down on the trigger, I stop thrashing and sat still. At this point, there was nothing I could do to stop this myself.

Lee Sangyeon, don't forget about me.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!” A familiar voice yells behind Bang Chan.

I wail loud with my last bit of strength I had.  “Help m-” BOOM!

Around me, I see the building collapse, rubble hitting my head as it knocks me over. Gunshots were loud and clear although my ears were ringing loud.

The last thing I remember before blacking out again were strong arms pulling me out of rubble.

Beeping. White ceiling. That is what I see and hear when I finally regain consciousness again. Looking around the plain room, I can see that I’m in a hospital bed. There is a bandage on my head and I can feel both my wrists and feet bandaged tightly, as well as an IV in my right arm. I move my head to the right slowly to the hallway window and see guards are positioned outside the hospital room. “Anything for Lee Sangyeon’s girl.” I think to myself and chuckle.

Wait. Sangyeon. Where is he? Is he alive?

“Hey sweet cheeks.” I hear a voice from the other side of the room. I slowly turn my head to see Kevin standing up from the couch that is in front of my bed and smiling at me.

“I'm glad you're okay. You woke up earlier than the doctors thought. You don’t have to worry about the Stray Kids gang anymore. They all died in the explosion.” He explains to me.

I nod my head slowly.

“Sangyeon. Where is Sangyeon?” I rasp out to Kevin.

Kevin softly smirks and shakes his head at the ground. “He's okay, he was here a few minutes ago, he hasn’t left your side in days. I’ll go get him, he's just getting his bandages touched up. He got injured in the explosion while pulling you out of the rubble.” Kevin tells me as I feel tears in my eyes. He would’ve sacrificed himself to save my life.

After patting my head softly, Kevin left the room to get Sangyeon, leaving me alone crying softly.

“Y/n.” I gasp and sit up and look towards the door, where the love of my life, Lee Sangyeon is standing with white bandages on his left arm and tears streaming down his scratched up, but beautiful face. Seeing him standing in front of me, makes me cry even harder. Without saying anything, I rip the IV out of my arm, slide out of the bed and jump into Sangyeons arms, and engulf him in a hug, which he gladly returns.

“I thought I lost you.” I cry into his shoulder as he sits down on the bed with me on his lap. I move my head to stare into his beautiful eyes, that still have his usual shimmer, even after all that has happened. “You'll never lose me.” He whispers fondly as he cups my face in his hands and wipes away my tears softly with his right thumb.

Sangyeon held me like I was a broken doll, fragile but sweet. He whispered sorry to me over and over again, which I quickly shushed and ran a bandaged hand through his soft brown hair.

“I love you so much.” I say to him, grabbing his neck softly and pulling him towards me.

“I love you more princess.” He says while smiling wide at me, which made me smile back at him as we connected foreheads.

~

“God Sangyeon. Go take a shower you stink.” I say to him as we enter his penthouse after being in the hospital for days, which ended with the doctor clearing both of us. I got the bandages on my head, hands, and feet, and he got his bandages removed.

“And you don’t smell y/n?” He smirks at me as I scoff. “Shower with me.” He says, eyes darkening as my breath hitches.

“Okay.” I nod, and we are on our way to his huge ensuite bathroom.

We both strip out of our dirty clothes and get into the massive glass shower, me going in first with Sangyeon following.

I watch him pump the liquid from the shampoo bottle into his hands, and lather the shampoo into my hair as he stands behind me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/n” Sangyeon tells me as I lean my back into his chest. His hands lightly trace my body, lingering on my lower stomach and my breasts. I could feel his erection growing, and being the little greedy bitch I am, I grind down on it slowly. All of a sudden, he turns me around and attaches his lips to mine hard, and we are both caught in a rough make out session. He breaks the kiss and stares at me with lust clouded eyes.

“Are you gonna take care of this princess?” Sangyeon asks me while his eyes are motioning to his cock.

“Yes Sir.” I reply, not sure where that came from, as he pushes my shoulders down lightly and I feel myself fall to my knees.

Without thinking, I grab his hard cock with my hands and pump it a few times.I licked the slit tasting the precum that had come out, before sinking my mouth down his shaft softly, making him swear under his breath.

“Fuck you’re such a good girl. You suck my cock so well.” He hisses while grabbing my hair and guiding my head back and forth while I lap up his precum. He guides my head so that I swallow his cock and I gag on it a bit, which makes him growl loudly. My watering eyes glanced up at Sangyeon to see his head tilted back, mouth open partially.

“Fuck y/n I’m gonna cum. Gonna dirty up that hot mouth of yours.” Sangyeon rasps out as I feel his hot cum go down my throat as he rides out his orgasm. I release myself from his dripping cock and swallow the cum that had landed in my mouth.

“Fuck y/n. Princess. You're so good at that.” He cooes at me while helping me stand up and kisses me quickly and firmly on the mouth.

“Do I get something for being good, Sir?” I ask him while batting my eyes together, trying to pout as much as I could.

“That depends, what do you want? You want me to fuck you in this shower until you can't walk” He asks me loudly.

“God yes!” I answer him. Sangyeon picks me up like I weigh nothing as I wrap my legs and arms around his broad body.

“FUCK!” I scream as Sangyeon slams his cock into my pussy without any warning.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit.” Sangyeon curses under his breath.

I moan like crazy as Sangyeon fucks me hard, every thrust hitting my g-spot.

“You feel so good y/n. Your tight pussy feels amazing around my cock.” He rasps out before sucking on my jaw, making me arch my back and moan. I could feel my orgasm coming already. Sangyeon is a sex god and he knew how to have me cumming within seconds.

“I'm gonna cum in you, y/n, ok? I want you to feel my hot cum inside of you.” He growls in my ear as I loudly moan. I couldn't even answer him, I just nodded my head while leaving scratches on his back.

“FUCK!” We both scream and cum at the same time, I shudder feeling Sangyeons hot load entering my pussy. He drops his head onto my shoulder, whispering praise in my ear as I'm shaking in his arms. Both of us panting and sweating, even underneath the water. When he pulls his cock out, his cum and my cum is dripping fast out of my pussy. Sangyeon puts me down but I start to fall over, so he catches me and starts to snicker.

“Well I guess we have to take a real shower now and clean ourselves up.” He says amusingly as I roll my eyes and smack his chest as he laughs.

~

June 2021, I finally graduate college! As my name is being called, shouts and cheers come from the audience as I look and see the entire TBZ gang jumping up and down. My smile grows even bigger when I'm shaking the headmaster's hand and see Sangyeon, my boyfriend of one year, in the audience holding a bouquet of red roses with a huge proud smile on his face. After enrolling in teacher’s college and officially moving in with Sangyeon, Kevin announces to everyone over a gang family dinner that he and Jacob are getting married, and that I'm his best person, which makes the whole gang erupt in chaos. Sangyeon has to calm everyone down, and congratulates the happy couple fondly, knowing that everyone will be as supportive when he finally asks his best girl to marry him.

Two months later I found myself at the MoonBae wedding. During the reception, Kevin calls all the non-married men and women to the dance floor so he can throw the bouquet. What shocks everyone the most is when I catch it, making Kevin and Jacob both scream and tackle me in a hug. Sangyeon chokes on his glass of scotch and turns purple watching the whole event unfold.

Sangyeon proposes to me one quiet night four months after Kevin and Jacob’s wedding as we are both drinking wine and watching the sunset on his penthouse balcony.

“Y/n, You are the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.” He says to me with tears in eyes as he gets down on one knee. “Will you marry me?” Sangyeon asks.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you. ” I answer him crying.

Sangyeon smiles wide at me and picks me up and spins me around before kissing me passionately.

“I love you so much y/n l/n.”

“I love you more Lee Sangyeon.”

“You’re mine forever.”

“And I'm yours.”

well i hope you enjoyed! sorry if it was bad or rushed again it was my first time hehe

stream breaking dawn and support tbz on kingdom :D

#the boys imagine #the boyz imagines #the boyz smut #sangyeon x reader #the boyz au #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #tbz imagines #sangyeon imagines #lee sangyeon imagines #the boyz lee sangyeon #the boyz x reader #the boyz sangyeon smut #the boyz scenarios #lee sangyeon smut #the boyz fanfic #the boyz fanfiction #the boyz oneshots #lee sangyeon x reader #kpop imagines #kpop au #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz angst

[satanwithboobs]

self-care | GN!MC x OM brothers

tw: mentions of reckless behavior, the brothers are demons so they essentially roofie MC but.. for their own good...? it’s not okay and I’m pretty sure Beel is the only one who feels like they did something wrong.

a/n: okay so this is really long (nearly 2,400 words), and it just sort of happened. mainly inspired by my history of reckless behavior when it comes to my health and my resolve not to let the stress of my upcoming week make me resort to bad habits. and before anyone wonders... the anecdote in the story? yeah that really happened. I gave myself stomach ulcers because I kept taking ibuprofen (it was for a horrible tooth ache) and I didn’t eat anything but saltines for days while I finished up a final project. word to the wise: don’t be like me. I’m dumb.

self care is important, everyone! I know a lot of people are starting school again, so please!!! take!! care!! of!!! yourselves!!

—

Lucifer was the first to notice something was up with MC, though initially he paid it no heed.

Naturally, he had always prided himself (of course) on his superior attention to detail, and

He had noticed them drinking cups of coffee and energy drinks a whole lot more often than usual, but given that finals were coming up, he figured they were simply trying to keep more awake for the sake of their studies.

None of this was healthy, of course, but he’d wait to scold them if it truly became worth his while to do so.

And so, he went on with his business, offering them advice as he had on many occasions before. He had even been kind enough to tutor them without the aid of his whip or his fire, something he would never do with any of his brothers. At one point he even let a snide comment under their breath go with just a stern warning.

He truly had gone soft, but he supposed it was best if he didn’t traumatize the human he and his brothers had formed such a strong bond with just for the sake of grades.

And while he had been the first to notice their new habits - all of his brothers had eventually caught on to what was going on.

It was the Saturday before finals that they all finally acknowledged that something needed to be done.

—

“They’re looking truly frightening!” Asmo exclaimed, and while typically his statements were brushed off by the rest as pure hyperbole, they all had to agree with this one. “They’ll get wrinkles in no time if they keep this up...”

“Yeah, somethin’ needs to be done,” Mammon commented, earning nods from his brothers — a truly rare occurrence in the House of Lamentation.

“Maybe I can plan a spa day!” Asmo interjected, an excited expression on his face.

“I don’t think havin’ ya feel ‘em up all day would help anythin,” Mammon grumbled, earning a scowl from the fifth-born in return.

“Perhaps...” Satan started.

“No,” Lucifer retorted, earning a look from the wrathful fourth-born.

He simply continued as if daggers weren’t being glared in his direction, “I don’t care how many times you try and paint it as a benefit for us all, you will not get a cat.”

Satan muttered something that sounded a lot like, “dammit,” under his breath, along with a couple of choice words that Lucifer ignored for the sake of pushing the conversation forward.

“I know! There’s this new TSL ultra-special extended-cut series box set that we can marathon! It has never-before-heard director commentary, along with a limited edition SIGNED replica of the—”

“That’s just gonna wind ‘em up even more!” The second-born responded, getting fed up with this already.

In truth, he was mainly irritated at himself for failing to notice that MC had gotten so bad. He was their first guy, he should’ve known!

“For once, I have to agree with Mammon,” the Avatar of Pride earned six dumbfounded looks with that, with Belphegor actually opening his eyes and Beelzebub nearly choking on the bite of food in his mouth.

“MC needs sleep, not distractions,” he went on without missing a beat, “I very much doubt they’ve had more than four hours of sleep in the last five days, so that must be our first priority.”

“How do you suggest we do that? It isn’t like MC will concede easy, we all know how stubborn they are,” Satan asked.

“Simple,” Lucifer proclaimed, as his gaze fell upon the youngest brother, who had already fallen into a deep slumber once again. “We use force.”

Upon feeling the eyes of all his brothers fall on him, Belphegor stirred, a single violet eye opening. He grumbled, not bothering to sit up properly as he regarded the eldest with a tired expression.

“What?”

—

Lucifer had explained the very simple two-step ‘plan’ to Belphegor (step no. 1, corner the human so they can’t slip away - step no. 2, Belphie makes them sleep), and they were about to begin discussing when to put their plan into motion when footsteps echoed outside the common room.

MC walked in, looking a bit more than a little worse for wear (while their clothes and hair looked fine given the circumstances, the bags under their eyes had become so prominent that they were basically their own entity at this point).

“Oh, that’s where you guys were. I was wondering why the place was so quiet,” they tried to joke, but it came out in such a monotone way that it just sounded more like a simple statement.

Their brow furrowed a bit when they got no response from the seven demons, but they shrugged it off and put their bag down on the table, beginning to take out the many books they were going to need. They’d been barricaded in their room for quite some time, but they had needed a change of scenery. Not to mention, their bed had been way too tempting...

The silence in the room was deafening - even in their bleary state they could tell something was off - so eventually they turned around to see six pairs of eyes scrutinizing their every move (Belphegor was asleep, which didn’t surprise them.

“You guys are starting to freak me out,” they stifled a yawn and moved to grab their coffee, in desperate need of another pick-me-up.

If they had any hope of grasping the concepts in Devildom Law, they’d need it—

They were confused when they didn’t find it where they had left it - on the table, two seconds earlier - but not so when they noticed that Lucifer had suddenly appeared right next to them, their coffee in hand.

“Uhh, Luci? Kinda need that,” they let out a laugh and outstretched their hand, silently asking for it back.

“No, you’re cut off,” he declared, earning a sigh from MC. It wasn’t like they had been caught dancing on the tables after a few too many shots of Demonus. It was just coffee.

“You guys are worried, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing dozens of times before, I’ll be fine,” they tried to reassure, though in truth they had never been forced to study nearly as hard as they had for the classes at RAD.

“No, what yer gonna do is let us take care of ya’. Don’t ya trust us?” Mammon said gruffly, earning a look from the human.

“Yeah... you’re really fragile, being a human, and..” Beelzebub started, before trailing off with a frown, remembering they didn’t particularly like being told that. Even if it was objectively true.

“Seriously? I’m being lectured by a bunch of demons on healthy lifestyle choices?” They said, exasperated. “I already said, I’ve done so much worse before. Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but this one time I was up for three nights straight in college.. Gave myself stomach ulcers during finals week because all I had to eat was a sleeve of saltines and some ibuprofen—” they laughed a bit before realizing - upon seeing everyone’s concern only increase - maybe that particular story wasn’t the best one to tell right at that very moment.

MC turned back to Lucifer, shooting him a pleading look. “I need to do well on these finals, Lucifer. I’m not going to make you guys look bad by completely bombing them all.”

The look in his eyes softened for a moment, before he sent someone behind them a terse nod.

Of course, they figured out just a little too late that this was far more than simply a discussion about their unhealthy sleeping habits.

They didn’t even need to look behind them to feel the overwhelming presence of the youngest brother weighing down on them.

While Belphie had done this sort of thing to them once or twice on accident while taking a nap nearby, it had never felt this.. overpowering.

They shot Lucifer a look, and he responded with a somewhat sympathetic look of his own.

“You can’t be serious about...” they trailed off, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. “About.. this....”

MC soon fell into the waiting arms of the eldest, out like a light.

Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he scooped them up bridal-style, giving a quick nod to Beelzebub who had picked up his twin the same way.

It was a side-effect of the youngest’s ability; he could make someone of his choosing fall into a deep sleep if he wanted, but he’d always do the same.

It was kind of annoying, but it wasn’t like he didn’t spend most of the time sleeping anyway. At least he had full control over how long the other person slept and would always wake at the same time they did.

Now that he thought about it, he’d have to find an excuse to do this again sometime. Naps were way less fun when the person you’re napping with insists on getting up before you wanted them to.

“Pretty sure that’s a record for Belphie,” Satan mused, “I’ve never seen someone pass out like that in less than 10 seconds.”

—

Beelzebub happily chomped down on the many food items he had been supplied with as he waited for his twin and MC to awaken.

The rest of his brothers would have hated having to wait so long, but as long as he had food and his two favorite people in front of him....

Beel looked up from his snack when he heard the pair stir.

An annoyed expression settled on MC’s face as they opened their eyes, completely erasing the peaceful look they held moments before.

Beel frowned, knowing they had a reason to be annoyed, but also knowing that this was all for their own good.

Their face softened ever-so-slightly when they noticed Beelzebub, the one brother they could never stay mad at.

They were about to sit up when they realized there was an arm loosely caged around their waist. Behind them, they could feel the soft and slow breathing of the youngest demon brother, as if he wasn’t already awake.

They attempted to move away, but the loose grip quickly tightened, pushing them flush against Belphegor’s chest.

A satisfied hum escaped their ‘captor’ when MC gave up and sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Belphegor said tiredly, nuzzling his face in their neck, much to their chagrin.

“I can’t believe you guys...” they finally said, their voice still rough from sleep. “How long?”

Beelzebub frowned again, knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. “18 hours,” he finally said, bracing for the response.

“Wait, 18 hours?!” MC rolled their eyes when the demon behind them groaned at the exclamation. “I’m going to miss—”

“I arranged for your deadlines to be extended, don’t worry,” MC stiffened when they heard the eldest’s voice, knowing their inevitable lecture was likely to come sooner rather than later.

They moved to sit up again, though this time their living restraint let it happen, turning over to hopefully get just 5 more minutes of sleep...

The human winced upon seeing the stern gaze Lucifer was giving them, though his eyes were notably softer than usual.

“While I appreciate the unwavering dedication to your studies,” he started, moving to sit on the edge of the bed near the two former sleeping beauties, “you do need to take care of yourself.”

“Achievement means nothing if you end up comatose before you reach the finish line.”

MC looked down, guilt settling on their face. Fair point from the Avatar of Pride.

“I—” they tried to start, but a gloved finger pressed against their lips before they could get anywhere.

“No arguments.”

MC sighed, tossing a defeated look to the eldest. All they got in response was a chuckle and his signature smug look.

Silence permeated the room for a moment before Lucifer spoke up again.

“You will report to my study promptly after dinner every night without exception until you are finished with everything,” he said, the edge in his voice coming back in full force. “Understand?”

MC nodded in response. Figures he’d implement something like this.

“Good. I will help you study a portion of the time, while Satan will help with the rest.”

The human resisted the urge to groan at this. Great, two drill sergeants for the price of one. Literally.

They felt their cheeks flare with heat when they felt Lucifer’s gloved hand cup their cheek as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

“Your well-being is important to all of us,” he said, pulling back. “Never forget that.”

“Lucifer is—” Beel interjected mid-bite before he quickly swallowed. “—right.”

“Won’t hear me arguin’ on that!” Mammon piped up as he filed into the room with the four brothers who weren’t already in there to begin with.

“Lucifer said I could plan a spa day when you finish up! Just you and me... sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?” Asmodeus announced, tossing a wink toward MC.

“Oi! If you think I’m gonna let that happen, you got another thing comin’, Asmo!” Mammon growled, earning an eye roll from the Avatar of Lust.

“You have nothing to worry about, as long as I’m your tutor,” Satan interjected before a true fight could break out.

“You better finish up quickly, because there’s this new game is coming out—!” Leviathan practically vibrated with excitement before letting out a terrified sound.

“Don’t put too much stress on them,” Lucifer’s aura flared.

“Oh, uh...” Levi corrected, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. “T-take all the time you n-need...”

MC couldn’t help but crack a smile at the brothers’ antics, their previous annoyance at the unexpected 18-hour nap all but gone (though they would have to speak to Lucifer about boundaries.. while they agreed that their health was important, essentially supernaturally drugging someone still wasn’t okay).

“You guys are too much,” they said, their cheeks flaring. “Just how did I end up stuck with all of you?”

Silence fell upon the room for a very brief moment at the question, before chaos (naturally) resumed its regularly scheduled programming.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #oh my god so many tags

[duhragonball]

What do You think about Maron, the Krilin's ex-girlfriend? I know she is hated a lot because she looks like Bulma and because of her poor intellect (although it must be admitted that she cares about others), but I would like to know your opinion about it? Why do you think that, without any reason, they introduced a character like her and why make she looks so much like Bulma when they could easily avoid a thousand controversies by even changing the color of her hair?

I think you don't understand the issues surrounding this character.

First off, let me take this moment to clarify something, mostly so I can remember it myself. Krillin's ex has almost exactly the same name as his daughter, and here's how to remember which is which.

Maron (マロン Maron) is the ex-girlfriend.

Marron (マーロン Māron) is Krillin and 18's daughter

The names sound indistinguishable in the dub, but they're spelled differently in English. The ex has one 'r', and the daughter has two. And the names are also spelled differently in Japanese, with a long vowel mark added to extend the vowel in "ma".

The characters have nothing to do with one another, and the naming was likely just a coincidence, since they both tie into the same chesnut wordplay that Krillin's name uses.

Anyway, the ex-girlfriend was introduced first, and she gets one 'r', and the daughter came second, and she gets two 'r's. Convenient.

So there's two major problems people have with Maron. The first is that she's a filler character introduced in a long stretch of filler episodes. By the end of the Frieza Saga, Toei's production schedule was cranking out episodes faster than Akira Toriyama could keep up with the manga. This was always a logistical hurdle with Dragon Ball (and other anime), which was always resolved by padding episodes with filler scenes, or sometimes entire filler episodes. But things got especially desperate around that time, so Toei had to do an unprecedented run of filler episodes to keep the show on the air. And this was how we got the Garlic Junior Saga, the Driver's Ed episode, Mr. Shuu, the flashback to Frieza getting turned into a cyborg, and so on.

It also gave us Maron. The thing is, a lot of people don't care for the Garlic Junior Saga to begin with. It's ten episodes of marking time, Goku's not even in the story, it doesn't even try to fit into the continuity of the show, and many of the plot "twists" just feel like random stuff tacked on to drag out the conflict. Personally, I like the arc okay, but that's mostly because I dig the Black Water Mist and Makyo Star lore. But I do find myself checking my watch in the final leg of the saga. Let's face it, this thing doesn't need to be ten episodes long, and you could easily trim it down to seven if you edited Maron out of the show.

So that's Problem Number One: She's a filler character shoehorned into what was already a filler saga. Her job is literally to waste time, and while there's plenty of timewasting in Dragon Ball Z, Maron is an especially egregious example. For a lot of fans, Maron represents everything wrong with the show, all of the pointless bullshit added in for production schedules rather than entertainment value. Making her a redhead wouldn't have solved that.

Problem number Two is that she treated Krillin like dirt, and fans love Krillin. He's the fucking best. She seemed to like him well enough, but it was impossible for anyone to figure out what she really wanted out of their relationship. Characters would ask her directly, and she would just avoid the question or say "I don't know," like a friggin' toddler. Meanwhile, Krillin's trying to figure out how to propose to her, constantly worrying about whether he's worthy of her, but she doesn't even know anything about him. He takes her to meet his friends, and she flirts with the boys and insults the girls. I don't think she was being intentionally cruel about it, but the message of that arc was that she wasn't taking the relationship nearly as seriously as he was. She was too impulsive and flighty, and indecisive, and Krillin was focused and serious and ready to settle down. The only reason he put up with her for as long as he did was because he lacked the self-confidence to understand that he could do better.

This is why all of his friends were so supportive of him when he told them he broke up with her. They were skeptical of Maron the whole time, and they were glad Krillin had finally wised up to the situation. This was only borne out when she showed up at Kame House again, three years later, trying to rekindle their romance. Roshi told her where Krillin was and why, and she didn't pay attention to any of it. She almost ran off with some complete strangers for no real reason. Then she tried to make out with a turtle. Then she called like two dozen "boyfriends" to pick her up, presumably because she was bored waiting for Krillin to come back.

Roshi and Turtle agreed that they should never speak of it again, and really, why should they tell Krillin about this? Maron's entire visit was a complete waste of time, and she fell in and out of love with Krillin all over again, without even seeing him! Again, this is a character solely created to waste time and make you feel bad for Krillin, and that's not a road to popularity. A new hairstyle wouldn't solve anything.

You say "it must be admitted that she cares about others", but no, I won't admit that. Maron doesn't have the attention span to care about others. She only seems to be interested in "having fun", but in this really vague way that doesn't require any sort of commitment to anything or anyone. I always imagined that she was created as some sort of bitter parody of a real-life ex-girlfriend, like the writers were trying to express their frustration through her.

I find the idea of Maron interesting from time to time, but more as an overlooked curiosity than anything else. A dedicated writer might find a way to get a cool story out of her, but I don't see any takers, and I've got bigger fish to fry. For most fans, I think, she's just a speed bump in Krillin's character arc, which leads into the arms of #18.

Maron's main contribution to the show is "fanservice", which is a term I've never cared for. Maron wears a revealing swimsuit through much of her time on DBZ, but the house-style is poorly suited to that kind of aesthetic. Most of the time she ends up looking like someone tried to make a woman out of stockings stuffed with ground beef. I watch DBZ for gonzo cartoon violence and occasional slice of life stuff. No one was doing me a "service" with all of those lingering shots of Maron's cartoon boobs.

#ask duhragonball #maron #with one r #dragon ball

[marjansmarwani]

we won the cosmic lottery

2.1k || ao3

When Mya convinces Carlos to try speed dating on what would otherwise be a lonely Valentine’s Day, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a disaster. Until a man who manages to light up his world with one look slides into the seat before him, that is. Suddenly he’s feeling a lot more optimistic.

Or, Tarlos Alternate First Meeting: Speed Dating Edition

I wrote fluff again and I am probably more surprised than you are. 

But I found this prompt from @madamewriterofwrongs in my inbox from several months ago and figured why not write a Valentine’s Day fic and try to stretch those fluff muscles again. Beta’d by @officereyes 💕 

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As bad ideas went, Carlos was pretty sure this was one. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“What, you had other hot plans for Valentine’s Day?” Mya asked him, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him over her drink. 

“No,” Carlos admitted, “but that doesn’t mean this was the correct alternative.” 

“Why not? You’ll waste an hour of your life, talk to some people, come out with some good stories if nothing else. I think it sounds like the perfect alternative to spending the night home alone with Netflix.” 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he told her, tipping his glass to her before taking another drink.

“I have tried it Carlos, far too many times. You have too - that’s why we’re here.” 

“To get a look at Austin’s future serial killers?” 

Mya rolled her eyes at him before lightly smacking his arm with her clutch, “No, Officer Buzzkill. We’re here for a chance to maybe meet Mr. or Ms. Right.” 

Carlos twisted on his stool to survey the crowd gathered in the reserved section of the bar. He typically didn’t like to make assumptions without at least trying to get to know someone first, but he could honestly say that none of the men in the crowd even gave him the slightest glimmer of hope for the evening. He should have stayed home. 

He turned back to Mya with a dubious expression and she rolled her eyes again, “Lighten up Carlos, at the very least it can’t hurt.”

Carlos cast a glance back to one guy who was leering at him from the other side of the room and grimaced, “I’m not too sure about that.” 

His partner opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone grabbing a microphone and calling the crowd to attention. 

“Good evening lonely hearts!” the host said once the din of the crowd had died down. Carlos shot Mya a look but she ignored him. 

“We’re going to get started here in a few minutes,” the host continued, “but before we start moving I just wanted to go over the specifics. Upon checking in you were given a bracelet. These are to help with the logistics. If you received a red bracelet you will be taking a seat at any of the open tables. If you got a pink one you will be rotating between the tables.”

Carlos glanced down at his wrist to see a red bracelet sitting there. Mya held up her own wrist to show another red one, “Looks like we both get to have people come to us tonight.” 

Carlos chuckled at her before turning his attention back to the host, who was still explaining the rules. 

“When the bell dings, you will rotate to the table to your right. You will have 3 minutes with each potential suitor and when the bell rings, you will move to the next one. Make sure that you write down their number and check yes or no before you part on the card provided - that’s how we will be pairing you! At the end of the evening we will be comparing all the lists and you will receive a list of the names and contact info of any suitors you mutually matched with to the email provided. After that, the ball is in your court! So make sure you make the most of these three minutes; it could be the time you find your soulmate!” 

The room filled with polite clapping and Carlos turned again to Mya, “You can’t be serious.” 

“Lighten up Reyes,” she said with a wink, “you wouldn’t want to scare your potential soulmate away.” 

“Fine, I’ll ‘lighten up’. But if one of these creeps murders me to make a skin suit, I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“I don’t believe in ghosts so your threats have no effect on me.” 

There were several more things he wanted to say to his partner, but he was interrupted by the sound of the host telling them all to head to their respective areas. As they went to stand up, Mya reached out to touch his arm, “it’s going to be fine Carlos, really. You’ve got this; try to have some fun for once.” 

Her tone and expression were much more gentle than before and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, “Thanks Mya,” he replied with a grateful smile. “Now go find Ms. Right.” 

She matched his smile and with a wave, she was gone. Carlos took another steady breath and headed to the guy’s section of the room, taking a seat at one of the tables. He pulled the card out of his jacket pocket and picked up one of the pencils waiting on the table, twirling it through his fingers anxiously. And when the first contender of the night slid into the seat before him he forced on a warm smile and held out his hand in greeting. Mya was right, he had this. 

--------

7 dates later he was less sure he had this. 

They hadn’t all been creeps, per se (though numbers 2 and 6 definitely had been) but they also hadn’t done anything to elicit any kind of spark in Carlos. They had been nice enough and reasonably good looking, but Carlos had decided a long time ago that good enough wasn’t worth the effort. If he was going to try and make a go of something with someone, they had to be someone who made him feel something. It had to be worth the risk. 

He was contemplating his abysmal luck when the next guy slid into the chair across from him. Carlos looked up and all coherent thoughts fled his head. This guy was... gorgeous was the only word Carlos could come up with that did him justice. Everything about him was perfect and Carlos couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He eventually noticed the extended hand in what he sincerely hoped was a normal amount of time and took it, still studying him as he blurted out the first thought that came to mind: “I didn’t see you here before.” 

He definitely hadn’t been here when things were starting, Carlos would have noticed him in a crowd, he was absolutely sure about that. The other man smiled sheepishly, “yeah, I got here a bit late. I was trying to convince myself to actually come. My friends had to practically push me in the door.” 

Carlos chuckled, “My friend had to pretty much drag me here with her. Are your friends here?” 

“They’re at a bar down the street for ‘moral support’,” he responded with an eye roll, but a fond expression. 

“That’s so helpful.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

They both laughed again before Carlos suddenly realized they had yet to even exchange names, “I’m Carlos, by the way.” 

“TK, nice to meet you.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Does it stand for something?” 

TK grinned at him coyly, “It does, but that’s at least a level 4 backstory, and we’re barely at level one.” 

Carlos grinned back, feeling the quip come easily despite the butterflies definitely fluttering in his stomach, “Well, we’ve got some time to work on that. Personally though I recommend we skip over levels 1 and 2, those are mundane at best.” 

TK’s green eyes lit up as he laughed. The sound sent a shock through Carlos’s entire body and in that moment, Carlos decided he had been wrong. He owed Mya an apology: this had been an excellent idea after all. 

-----

His three minutes with TK had not been nearly long enough. When the bell had dinged he had nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so absorbed in their conversation he hadn't noticed the passage of time. It felt like they had been talking all night, but also as if they had barely begun to talk at all. 

TK gave him an apologetic smile as he stood from his chair, “I guess that’s my cue. It was really nice talking to you though, Carlos.”

“Yeah, you too,” he responded. He hesitated for a moment as he studied the other man. In only three minutes he had felt more of a connection with TK than he had with people he had dated for weeks. Maybe it was that they were both first responders, maybe it was something else, but he wasn’t ready to let this go. So many things were mysteries, but Carlos knew one thing for sure: if he let TK walk away from him tonight, he might just end up regretting it for the rest of his life. 

“Would you maybe like to catch up when we’re done here? Maybe get a drink, talk some more?” 

TK paused mid-stride, raising an eyebrow, “You still have two more dates left, how do you know you won’t want to spend the evening with them instead?” 

“Call it intuition.” 

He could call it intuition or blind hope or desperation if he wanted, Carlos really didn’t care. He just knew in his gut that it was right, that TK was someone he needed to get to know more. TK was still considering him, and Carlos anxiously awaited his verdict. This was so far outside of his comfort zone and he was pretty sure that if TK turned him down he was going to head back to his condo tonight and not leave for at least two days, too buried in embarrassment and shame to face the outside world. But this felt worth the risk; he just hoped he hadn’t read these feelings wrong. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime passing in the moment of a breath, TK smiled. “I’d like that,” he said, “I guess bachelors 9 and 10 are out of luck for both of us then.” 

“Try to let them down easy.” 

TK laughed again, squeezing his shoulder as he walked away, “As long as you promise to do the same—getting turned down by you would be a tough pill to swallow, Carlos. Try to break their hearts gently.”  

-------

Carlos was still feeling the euphoria of TK’s smile 10 minutes later when a figure slid into the seat next to him at the bar. He turned eagerly, ready to see TK’s eyes again and felt disappointment, followed by instant guilt, when it wasn’t TK but Mya occupying the seat next to him. 

“Well that was a waste of time,” she declared as she slumped forward onto the bar, “you were right. I shouldn’t have dragged you here, I’m sorry. Wanna go get tacos at that truck you love to drown our sorrows?” 

“Actually,” Carlos began, but their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone calling his same from behind them. They turned in tandem and Carlos felt his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of TK, who was looking between him and Mya. 

“Hey Carlos, I just wanted to see if you were ready for that drink yet. If you’re not we can...” 

Mya interrupted before TK could finish his sentence, “I was just leaving, actually. I’m Mya, by the way—Carlos’s partner and friend.” 

TK turned his gorgeous smile on her and held out a hand, “TK Strand, nice to meet you.” 

“TK’s a firefighter,” Carlos told Mya, biting back a smile as she raised an eyebrow and TK nodded, “I’m with the 126.”

“Well, TK Strand with the 126, take good care of my partner here. He’s pretty special.” 

“I’ve already gotten that feeling,” TK agreed, giving Carlos another grin that he felt straight through to his soul. 

Mya smirked as she stood from her seat, looking between them as she pulled out her keys, “I’d say have a good rest of the night, but I think that’s already a given. I’ll see you on Monday Carlos, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” 

Mya shrugged as she started to walk away, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.” 

“Text me when you get home!” he called after her. 

“Yes mom!” she called back as she reached the door. Before she opened it to head out into the Austin night she turned one more time and shot him a smile and a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes fondly, but nodded. Then she was gone and he turned all of his attention to the man beside him. He was grinning too and Carlos was starting to get the feeling that he might never get used to the things that smile did to him.  

TK slid into Mya’s abandoned seat and leaned closer to him, “So where do we start?” 

Carlos smiled back and waved down the bartender to get drinks for them. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he had a feeling wherever it was would be the beginning of something great. He turned and caught TK’s eyes again, savoring the warmth that emanated from them. 

Tonight may have started out feeling like a mistake, but he was starting to think it may have actually been more like fate. 

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #tuserpaige #usermaximus #userac #userjilly #userbones #jazzyjess

[suckmykawaiidesu]

Compilation of Nessian Moments:  ‘A Court of Wings and Ruin ’ Edition

Hello loves! ♥️

I recently asked for a compilation list of Nessian moments and there doesn’t seems to be one so I decided to hurriedly put one together before the release of “A Court of Silver Flames”. I have probably missed some scenes but these are the ones that I came across during my re-read. I will be making a post for each book and will link them once available:

A Court of Mist and Fury

ACOMAF Target Exclusive Story uploaded by bookofademigod

A Court of Frost and Starlight

Sneak Peak at the end of A Court of Frost and Starlight

A Court of Wings and Ruin

Chapter 15

Nesta had been beautiful as a human woman. As High Fae, she was devastating. From the utter stillness with which Cassian stood beside me, I wondered if he thought the same thing. She was in a pewter-colored gown, its make simple, yet the material fine. Her hair was braided over the crown of her head, accentuating her long, pale neck—a neck Cassian’s eyes darted to, then quickly away from, as she sized us up and said to me, “You’re back.” With her hair styled like that, it hid the pointed ears. But there was nothing to hide the ethereal grace as she took one step. As her focus again returned to Cassian and she added,

“What do you want?”

But Cassian sauntered over to Nesta, a half smile spreading across his face. She stood stiffly while he picked up the book, read the title, and chuckled. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romance reader.” She gave him a withering glare. “And, again, why are you here?” She snatched her book from Cassian, who allowed her to do so, but remained standing beside her. Watching every breath, every blink. “Elain’s mate is here,” I said. And it was the wrong thing to utter in Nesta’s presence. She went white with rage. “He is no such thing to her,” she snarled, advancing on me enough that Rhys slid a shield into place between us. As if he, too, had glimpsed that mighty power in her eyes that day in Hybern. And did not know how it would manifest.

“If you bring that male anywhere near her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Cassian crooned, trailing her at a casual pace as she stopped perhaps five feet from me. He lifted a brow as she whirled on him. “You won’t join me for practice, so you sure as hell aren’t going to hold your own in a fight. You won’t talk about your powers, so you certainly aren’t going to be able to wield them. And you—” “Shut your mouth,” she snapped, every inch the conquering empress. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, and if you—” “You come between a male and his mate, Nesta Archeron, and you’re going to learn about the consequences the hard way.” Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian only gave her a crooked grin.

Nesta only shook her head, turning toward the chair and her book. “I don’t care. Do what you want.” A stinging dismissal, if not admission that she still trusted me enough to consider Elain’s needs first. Rhys jerked his chin at Cassian in a silent order to leave, and as I followed them, I said softly, “I’m sorry, Nesta.” She didn’t answer as she sat stiffly in her chair, picked up her book, and dutifully ignored us. A blow to the face would have been better. When I looked ahead, I found Cassian staring back at Nesta as well. I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian’s eyes as he gazed at my sister. The sorrow. And the longing

Chapter 16 I cringed. “I guarantee Nesta is now guarding Elain. I think she might honestly kill him if he so much as tries to touch her.” “Not without training she won’t,” Cassian grumbled, tucking in his wings as he claimed the seat beside Mor that Azriel had vacated. The shadowsinger didn’t so much as look at it. No, Azriel just walked to the wall beside Cassian and leaned against the wood paneling. But Rhys and the others remained quiet enough that I knew to proceed carefully as I asked Cassian, “Nesta spoke as if you’ve been up at the House … often. You’ve offered to train her?” Cassian’s hazel eyes shuttered as he crossed a booted ankle over another, stretching his muscled legs before him. “I go up there every other day. It’s good exercise for my wings.” Those wings shifted in emphasis. Not a scratch marred them. “And?” “And what you saw in the library is a pleasanter version of the conversation we always have.” Mor’s lips pressed into a thin line, as if she was trying her best not to say anything. Azriel was trying his best to shoot a warning stare at Mor to remind her to indeed keep her mouth shut. As if they’d already discussed this. Many times. “I don’t blame her,” Cassian said, shrugging despite his words. “She was—violated. Her body stopped belonging wholly to her.” His jaw clenched. Even Amren didn’t dare say anything. “And I am going to peel the King of Hybern’s skin off his bones the next time I see him.”

Chapter 17 Not that there was much finery to bother with. I’d opted for my Illyrian leather pants and a loose, white shirt—and a pair of embroidered slippers that Cassian kept snorting at as we flew. When he did so for the third time in two minutes, I pinched his arm and said, “It’s hot. Those boots are stuffy.” His brows rose, the portrait of innocence. “I didn’t say anything.” “You grunted. Again.” “I’ve been living with Mor for five hundred years. I’ve learned the hard way not to question shoe choices.” He smirked. “However stupid they may be.” “It’s dinner. Unless there’s some battle planned afterward?” “Your sister will be there—I’d say that’s battle aplenty.” I casually studied his face, noting how hard he worked to keep his features neutral, to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but on my own. Rhys flew nearby, far enough to remain out of earshot as I said, “Would you use her to see if she can somehow fix the wall?” Hazel eyes shot to me, fierce and clear. “Yes. Not only for our sakes, but … she needs to get out of the House. She needs to …” Cassian’s wings kept up a steady booming beat, the new sections only detectable by their lack of scarring. “She’ll destroy herself if she stays cooped up in there.” My chest tightened. “Do …” I thought through my words. “The day she was changed, she … I felt something different with her.” I fought against the tensing in my muscles as I recalled those moments. The screaming and the blood and the nausea as I watched my sisters taken against their will, as I could do nothing, as we— I swallowed down the fear, the guilt. “It was like … everything she was, that steel and fire … It became magnified. Cataclysmic. Like … looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.” I shook my head, as if it would clear away the memory of the predator, the rage simmering in those blue-gray eyes. “I will never forget those moments,” Cassian said quietly, scenting or sensing the memories wreaking havoc on me. “As long as I live.” “Have you seen any glimpse of it since?” “Nothing.” The House loomed, golden lights at the walls of windows and doorways beckoning us closer. “But I can feel it—sometimes.” He added a bit ruefully, “Usually when she’s pissed at me. Which is … most of the time.” “Why?” They’d always been at each other’s throats, but this … yes, the dynamic between them had been different earlier. Sharper. Cassian shook his dark hair out of his eyes, slightly longer than the last time I’d seen it. “I don’t think Nesta will ever forgive me for what happened in Hybern. To her—but mostly to Elain.” “Your wings were shredded. You were barely alive.” For that was guilt—ravaging and poisonous—in each of Cassian’s words. What the others had been fighting against in the loft. “You were in no position to save anyone.” “I made her a promise.” The wind ruffled Cassian’s hair as he squinted at the sky. “And when it mattered, I didn’t keep it.” I still dreamed of him trying to crawl toward her, reaching for her even in the semiunconscious state the pain and blood loss had thrown him into. As Rhysand had once done for me during those last moments with Amarantha. Perhaps only a few wing beats separated us from the broad landing veranda, but I asked, “Why do you bother, Cassian?” His hazel eyes shuttered as we smoothly landed. And I thought he wouldn’t answer, especially not as we heard the others already in the dining room beyond the veranda, especially not when Rhys gracefully landed beside us and strode in ahead with a wink. But Cassian said quietly as we headed for the dining room, “Because I can’t stay away.”

Chapter 17 His focus shifted behind me before he replied—and Lucien shut his mouth. His metal eye whirred softly. I followed his glance, and tried not to tense as Nesta stepped into the room. Yes, devastating was a good word for how lovely she’d become as High Fae. And in a long-sleeved, dark blue gown that clung to her curves before falling gracefully to the ground in a spill of fabric … Cassian looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

Chapter 19 Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes. I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there. “Care to join?” Cassian purred. Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.” I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian. Cassian extended a wrapped hand, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Scared?” I wisely kept my mouth shut as Nesta stepped from the open doorway into the blinding light of the courtyard. “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?” I choked, and Cassian shot me a warning glare, daring me to laugh. But I felt for that bond in my mind, lowering my mental shields enough to say to Rhysand, wherever he was in the city, Please come spare me from Cassian and Nesta’s bickering. A heartbeat later, Rhys crooned, Regretting becoming High Lady? I savored that voice—that humor. But I shoved that simmering panic down again as I countered, Is this part of my duties? A sensual, dark laugh. Why do you think I was so desperate for a partner? I’ve had almost five centuries to deal with this alone. It’s only fair you have to endure it now. Cassian was saying to Nesta, “Seems like you’re a little on edge, Nesta. And you left so abruptly last night … Any way I can help ease that tension?”

Chapter 22 The Carver purred to Cassian, “If I tell you a secret, warrior-heart, what will you give me?” Neither of us spoke. Carefully—we’d have to phrase and do this so carefully. The Carver stroked the shard of bone in his palm, attention fixed upon a stone-faced Cassian. “What if I tell you what the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something—something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth.” Cassian’s golden-brown face had drained of color, his wings tucking in tight. “What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?” My blood went cold. “What came out was not what went in.” A rasping laugh as the Carver laid the shard of bone on the ground beside him. “How lovely she is—new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen, as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.” Rhys had warned me of the inmates’ capacity to lie, to sell anything, to get free. “Nesta,” the Bone Carver murmured. “Nes-ta.” I squeezed Cassian’s hand. Enough. It was enough of this teasing and taunting. But he didn’t look at me. “How the wind moans her name. Can you hear it, too? Nesta. Nesta. Nesta.” I wasn’t sure Cassian was breathing. “What did she do, drowning in the ageless dark? What did she take?” It was the bite in the last word that snapped my tether of restraint. “If you wish to find out, perhaps you should stop talking long enough for us to explain.” My voice seemed to shake Cassian free of whatever trance he’d been in. His breathing surged, tight and fast, and he scanned my face—apology in his eyes.

Chapter 23 “Would you be frightened of her, if Nesta was—Death? Or if her power came from it?” Cassian was quiet for a long moment. He said at last, “I’m a warrior. I’ve walked beside Death my entire life. I would be more afraid for her, to have that power. But not afraid of her.” He considered, and added after a heartbeat, “Nothing about Nesta could frighten me.”

Chaper 24 Mercifully, or perhaps not, Nesta’s retching filled the silence. Cassian gaped at Rhys. “What did you do?” “I asked him the same thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He said he ‘went fast.’ ” Nesta vomited again—then silence. Cassian sighed at the ceiling. “She’ll never fly again.” The doorknob twisted, and we tried—or at least Cassian and I did—not to seem like we’d been listening to her. Nesta’s face was still greenish-pale, but … Her eyes burned. There was no way of describing that burning—and even painting it might have failed. Her eyes remained the same blue-gray as my own. And yet … Molten ore was all I could think of. Quicksilver set aflame. She advanced a step toward us. All her attention fixed on Rhys. Cassian casually stepped in her path, wings folded in tight. Feet braced apart on the carpet. A fighting stance—casual, but … his Siphons glimmered. “Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity. He just went on, “It was Amren’s fault, of course, but no one believed me. And no one dared banish her.” She blinked slowly. But the burning, molten gaze became mortal. Or as mortal as one of us could be. Until Lucien breathed, “What are you?” Cassian didn’t seem to dare take his focus off Nesta. 

Chapter 27 Cassian had stationed himself by the doorway, I realized, to be closer to Nesta. To grab her if Amren decided she didn’t particularly care for where this conversation was headed. Or for any of the furniture in this room. Precisely why Rhys now placed himself on Amren’s other side—to draw her attention away from me, and Mor behind us, every muscle in her lithe body on alert. Cassian was staring at Nesta—hard enough that my sister at last twisted toward him. Met his gaze. His head tilted—slightly. A silent order.

Cassian casually slid Nesta behind him, his fingers snagging in the skirts of her black gown. As if to reassure himself that she wasn’t in Amren’s direct path. Nesta only rose onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.

Chapter 30 Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. “Morning, Nesta,” he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. “Elain.”

Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up. I chose that moment to winnow to the skies above the House, chuckling as wind carried me through the world. Some sisterly payback, I supposed. For Nesta’s general attitude. Mercifully, no one saw my slightly better crash landing on the veranda, and by the time Cassian’s dark figure appeared in the sky, Nesta’s hair bright as bronze in the morning sun, I’d brushed off the dirt and dust from my leathers. My sister’s face was wind-flushed as Cassian gently set her down. Then she strode for the glass doors without a single look back. “You’re welcome,” Cassian called after her, more than a bite to his voice. His hands clenched and slackened at his sides—as if he were trying to loosen the feel of her from his palms.

Chapter 31 In the terrible silence, Cassian hauled me out—toward the dim center of the pit. Nesta was standing there, arms around herself, eyes wide. Cassian only stretched out an arm for her. As if in a trance, she walked right to his side. His arms tightened around both of us, Siphons flaring, gilding the darkness with bloodred light.

Chapter 32 I wondered what had happened in those initial moments, when he’d found my sister. As if he’d read my thoughts, Rhys sent the image to me, no doubt courtesy of Cassian. Panic—and rage. That was all he knew as he shot down into the heart of the pit, spearing for that ancient darkness that had once shaken him to his very marrow. Nesta was there—and Feyre. It was the former he saw first, stumbling out of the dark, wide-eyed, her fear a tang that whetted his rage into something so sharp he could barely think, barely breathe— She let out a small, animal sound—like some wounded stag—as she saw him. As he landed so hard his knees popped. He said nothing as Nesta launched herself toward him, her dress filthy and disheveled, her arms stretching for him. He opened his own for her, unable to stop his approach, his reaching— She gripped his leathers instead. “ Feyre,” she rasped, pointing behind her with a free hand, shaking him solidly with the other. Strength—such untapped strength in that slim, beautiful body. “Hybern.” That was all he needed to hear. He drew his sword—then Rhys was arrowing for them, his power like a gods-damned volcanic eruption. Cassian charged ahead into the gloom, following the screaming—

Chapter 39 But Nesta was glancing between us all, her back still stiff, mouth a thin line. “Where is he?” “Who?” Rhys crooned. “Cassian.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard his name from her lips. Cassian had always been him or that one. And Nesta had been … pacing in the foyer. As if she was worried. I opened my mouth, but Mor beat me to it. “He’s busy.” I’d never heard her voice so … sharp. Icy. Nesta held Mor’s stare. Her jaw tightened, then relaxed, then tightened—as if fighting some battle to keep questions in. Mor didn’t drop her gaze. Mor had never seemed ruffled by mention of Cassian’s past lovers. Perhaps because they’d never meant much—not in the ways that counted. But if the Illyrian warrior no longer stood as a physical and emotional buffer between her and Azriel … And worse, if the person who caused that vacancy was Nesta … Mor said flatly, “When he gets back, keep your forked tongue behind your teeth.” My heart leaped into a furious beat, my arms slack at my sides at the insult, the threat. But Rhys said, “Mor.” She slowly—so slowly—looked at him. There was nothing but uncompromising will in Rhys’s face. “We now leave for the meeting in three days. Send out dispatches to the other High Lords to inform them. And I’m done debating where to meet. Pick a place and be done with it.” She stared him down for a heartbeat, then dragged her gaze back to my sister. Nesta’s face had not altered, the coldness limning it unbending. She was so still she seemed to barely be breathing. But she did not balk. She did not avert her eyes from the Morrigan. Mor vanished with hardly a blink. Nesta only turned and headed for the sitting room, where I noticed books had been laid on the low-lying table before the hearth.

Behind us, Amren murmured to Nesta, “Cassian has gone to war many times, girl. He isn’t general of Rhys’s forces for nothing. This battle was a skirmish compared to what lies ahead. He’s likely visiting the families of the fallen as we speak. He’ll be back before the meeting.” Nesta said, “I don’t care.”

Chapter 42 Nesta only lifted her chin. “I …” I’d never seen her stumble for words. “I do not want to be remembered as a coward.” “No one would say that,” I offered quietly. “I would.” Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but… avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval—more. “It was some distant thing,” she said. “War. Battle. It … it’s not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means …telling them what happened.”

Mor sagged a bit, jewelry glinting with the movement, and went to take Cassian’s arm. But he’d at last approached Nesta. And as the world began to turn to shadows and wind, I saw Cassian tower over my sister, saw her chin lift defiantly, and heard him growl, “Hello, Nesta.” Rhys seemed to halt his winnowing as my sister said, “So you’re alive.” Cassian bared his teeth in a feral grin, wings flaring slightly. “Were you hoping otherwise?” Mor was watching—watching so closely, every muscle tense. She again reached for his arm, but Cassian angled out of reach, not tearing his eyes from Nesta’s blazing gaze. Nesta blurted, “You didn’t come to—” She stopped herself. The world seemed to go utterly still at that interrupted sentence, nothing and no one more so than Cassian. He scanned her face as if furiously reading some battle report. Mor just watched as Cassian took Nesta’s slim hand in his own, interlacing their fingers. As he folded in his wings and blindly reached his other hand back toward Mor in a silent order to transport them. Cassian’s eyes did not leave Nesta’s; nor did hers leave his. There was no warmth, no tenderness on either of their faces. Only that raging intensity, that blend of contempt and understanding and fire. Rhys began to winnow us again, and just as the dark wind swept in, I heard Cassian say to Nesta, his voice low and rough, “The next time, Emissary, I’ll come say hello.”

Chapter 44 “You’re insane,” I breathed to Tamlin as Varian bared his teeth. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” I pointed toward Nesta. “Hybern turned my sisters into Fae—after your bitch of a priestess sold them out!” “Perhaps Ianthe’s mind was already in Rhysand’s thrall. And what a tragedy to remain young and beautiful. You’re a good actress—I’m sure the trait runs in the family.” Nesta let out a low laugh. “If you want someone to blame for all of this,” she said to Tamlin, “perhaps you should first look in the mirror.” Tamlin snarled at her. Cassian snarled right back, “Watch it.” Tamlin looked between my sister and Cassian—his gaze lingering on Cassian’s wings, tucked in behind him. Snorted. “Seems like other preferences run in the Archeron family, too.”

Chapter 45 Rhys lifted a brow. “Your staggering generosity aside, will you be joining our forces?” “I have not yet decided.” Eris went so far as to give his father a look bordering on reproach. From genuine alarm or for what that refusal might mean for our own covert alliance, I couldn’t tell. “Armies take time to raise,” Cassian said. “You don’t have the luxury of sitting on your ass. You need to rally your soldiers now.” Beron only sneered. “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.” My heartbeat was so wild I could hear it in every corner of my body, feel it pounding in my arms, my gut. But it was nothing compared to the wrath on Cassian’s face—or the icy rage on Azriel’s and Rhys’s. And the disgust on Mor’s. “That bastard,” Nesta said with utter coolness, though her eyes began to burn, “may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people.” She didn’t so much as look at Cassian as she said it. But he stared at her—as if he’d never seen her before.

Chapter 47 Helion paused his debating the wall to survey her carefully, as he had done earlier. Spell-Cleaver. That was his title. She surveyed him with her usual disdain. But Helion gave her the same bow he’d offered me—though his smile was edged with enough sensuality that even my heart raced a bit. No wonder the Lady of Autumn hadn’t stood a chance. “I don’t think we were introduced properly earlier,” he crooned to Nesta. “I’m—” “I don’t care,” Nesta said with a snap of her wrist, striding right past him and up to my side. “I’d like a word,” she said. “Now.” Cassian was biting his knuckle to keep from laughing—at the utter surprise and shock on Helion’s face. It wasn’t every day, I supposed, that anyone of either sex dismissed him so thoroughly. I threw the High Lord a semi-apologetic glance and led my sister out of the room. “What is it?” I asked when Nesta and I had entered her bedroom, the space bedecked in pink silk and gold, accents of ivory scattered throughout. The lavishness of it indeed put our various homes to shame. “We need to leave,” Nesta said. “Right now.” Every sense went on alert. “Why?” “It feels wrong. Something feels wrong.” I studied her, the clear sky beyond the towering, drape-framed windows. “Rhys and the others would sense it. You’re likely just picking up on all the power gathered here.” “Something is wrong,” Nesta insisted. “I’m not doubting you feel that way but … If none of the others are picking it up—” “I am not like the others.” Her throat bobbed. “We need to leave.” “I can send you back to Velaris, but we have things to discuss here—” “I don’t care about me, I—” The door opened, and Cassian stalked in, face grave. The sight of the wings, the Illyrian armor in this opulent, pink-filled room planted itself in my mind, the painting already taking form, as he said, “What’s wrong.” He studied every inch of her. As if there were nothing and no one else here, anywhere. But I said, “She senses something is off—says we need to leave right away.” I waited for the dismissal, but Cassian angled his head. “What, precisely, feels wrong?” Nesta stiffened, mouth pursing as she weighed his tone. “It feels like there’s this …dread. This sense that … that I forgot something but can’t remember what.” Cassian stared at her for a moment longer. “I’ll tell Rhys.” And he did.

Chapter 48 Nesta let out a breathy, sharp noise and surged from her chair. I lunged for her, nearly tripping over the skirts of my dress as she staggered back, a hand clutching at her chest. Another step would have taken her stumbling into the reflection pool, but Mor sprang forward, gripping her. “What’s wrong?” Mor demanded, holding my sister upright as her face contorted in what looked to be—pain. Confusion and pain. Sweat beaded on Nesta’s brow, though her face went deathly pale. “Something …” The word was cut off by a low groan. She sagged, and Mor caught her fully, scanning Nesta’s face. Cassian was instantly there, his hand at her back, teeth bared at the invisible threat.

Chapter 49 Nesta smoothed a hand down her dark dress. “What do I do now?” A purpose, I realized. Assigning her the task of finding a way to repair the holes in the wall … it had given my sister what perhaps our human lives had never granted her: a bearing. “You come with us—to Graysen’s estate, and then travel with the army. If you’re connected with the Cauldron, then we’ll need you close. Need you to tell us if it’s being wielded again.” Not quite a mission, but Nesta nodded all the same. Right as Cassian clapped Rhys on the shoulder and prowled toward us. He paused a foot away, and frowned. “Dresses aren’t good for flying, ladies.” Nesta didn’t reply. He lifted a brow. “No barking and biting today?” But Nesta didn’t rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. “I’ve never worn pants,” was all she said. I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian’s features. But he brushed it aside and drawled, “I have no doubt you’d start a riot if you did.” No reaction. Had the Cauldron— Cassian stepped in Nesta’s path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. “Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,” he breathed, “and you kill them.” He wouldn’t be coming—no, he’d be mustering the full might of the Illyrian legions. Azriel would be joining us, though. Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. “A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard— mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don’t forget that you’re stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,” he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. “And if someone gets you into a hold …” My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn’t place. Nesta surveyed the fine dagger in her hand. Then lifted her head to look at him. “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off. I studied Nesta, the dagger, her quiet, still face. “Don’t even start,” she warned me, and headed for the stairs.

Chapter 51 On and on they went, until Devlon looked over Rhys’s shoulder—to where we stood. A scowl at Mor. A frown at me—wisely subdued. Then he noticed Nesta. “What is that,” Devlon asked. Nesta merely stared at him, one hand clamping the edges of her gray cloak together at her chest. One of the other camp-lords made some sign against evil. “That,” Cassian said too quietly, “is none of your concern.” “Is she a witch.” I opened my mouth, but Nesta said flatly, “Yes.” And I watched as nine full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords flinched. “She may act like one sometimes,” Cassian clarified, “but no—she is High Fae.” “She is no more High Fae than we are,” Devlon countered.

Chapter 56 But Nesta had jolted to her feet, staring at Cassian, at the helmet he had tucked into the crook of his arm, the weapons still poking above his shoulder, in need of cleaning. His dark hair hung limp with sweat, his face was mud-splattered where even the helmet had not kept it out. But she surveyed his seven Siphons, the dim red stones. And then she said, “You’re hurt.” Rhys snapped to attention at that. Cassian’s face was grim—his eyes glassy. “It’s fine.” Even the words were laced with exhaustion. But she reached for his arm—his shield arm. Cassian seemed to hesitate, but offered it to her, tapping the Siphon atop his palm. The armor slid back a fraction over his forearm, revealing— “You know better than to walk around with an injury,” Rhys said a bit tensely. “I was busy,” Cassian said, not taking his focus off Nesta as she studied the swollen wrist. How she’d detected it through the armor … She must have read it in his eyes, his stance. I hadn’t realized she’d been observing the Illyrian general enough to notice his tells. “And it’ll be fixed by morning,” Cassian added, daring Rhys to say otherwise. But Nesta’s pale fingers gently probed his golden-brown skin, and he hissed through his teeth. “How do I fix it?” she asked. Her hair had been tied in a loose knot atop her head earlier in the day, and in the hours that we’d worked to ready and distribute supplies to the healers, through the heat and humidity, stray tendrils had come free to curl about her temple, her nape. Faint color had stained her cheeks from the sun, and her forearms, bare beneath the sleeves she’d rolled up, were flecked with mud. Cassian slowly sat on the log where she’d been perched a moment before, groaning softly—as if even that movement taxed him. “Icing it usually helps, but wrapping it will just lock it in place long enough for the sprain to repair itself—” She reached for the basket of bandages she’d been preparing, then for the pitcher at her feet. I was too tired to do anything other than watch as she washed his wrist, his hand, her own fingers gentle. Too tired to ask if she possessed the magic to heal it herself. Cassian seemed too weary to speak as well while she wrapped bandages around his wrist, only grunting to confirm if it was too tight or too loose, if it helped at all. But he watched her— didn’t take his eyes off her face, the brows bunched and lips pursed in concentration. And when she’d tied it neatly, his wrist wrapped in white, when Nesta made to pull back, Cassian gripped her fingers in his good hand. She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. Nesta did not yank her hand away. Did not open her mouth for some barbed retort. She only stared and stared at him, at the breadth of his shoulders, even more powerful in that beautiful black armor, at the strong column of his tan neck above it, his wings. And then at his hazel eyes, still riveted to her face. Cassian brushed a thumb down the back of her hand. Nesta opened her mouth at last, and I braced myself— “You’re hurt?” At the sound of Mor’s voice, Cassian snatched his hand back and pivoted toward Mor with a lazy smile. “Nothing for you to cry over, don’t worry.” Nesta dragged her stare from his face—down to her now-empty hand, her fingers still curled as if his palm lay there. Cassian didn’t look at Nesta as she rose, snatching up the pitcher, and muttered something about getting more water from inside the tent. Cassian and Mor fell into their banter, laughing and taunting each other about the battle and the ones ahead. Nesta didn’t come back out again for some time.

Chapter 56

Nesta did not flinch at the clash and din of battle. She only stared toward one blackarmored figure, leading the lines, his occasional order to push or to hold that flank barking across the battle.

Chapter 57 Nesta laid a hand against her bare, rain-slick throat. Cassian began another assault on a Hybern captain—slower this time than he’d been. Now. I had to go now—quickly. I took a step away from the outlook. My sister narrowed her brows at me. “You’re leaving?” “I’ll be back soon,” was all I said. I didn’t dare wonder how much of our army would be left when I did. By the time I strode away, Nesta had already faced the battle once more, rain plastering her hair to her head. Resuming her unending vigil of the general battling on the valley floor below.

Chapter 61 I squinted at the watery light—the very last before true dark. When my vision adjusted… Nesta stood by the nearest tent, an empty water bucket between her feet. Her hair a damp mess atop her mud-flecked head. Watching us emerge, grim-faced— “He’s fine. Healed and awake,” I said quickly. Nesta’s shoulders sagged a bit. She’d saved me the trouble of hunting her down to ask her about tracking the Cauldron. Better to do it now, with some privacy. Especially before Amren arrived. But Mor said coldly, “Shouldn’t you be refilling that bucket?” Nesta went stiff. Sized up Mor. But Mor didn’t flinch from that look. After a moment, Nesta picked up her bucket, mud caked up to her shins, and continued on, steps squelching.

Chapter 62 Nesta still didn’t move. She could not use the bathtub, she’d told me. Because the memories it dragged up— Cassian said to her, “Nothing can harm you here.” He sucked in a breath, groaning softly, and rose to his feet. Azriel tried to stop him, but Cassian brushed him off and strode for my sister’s side. He braced a hand on the desk when he at last stopped. “Nothing can harm you,” he repeated. Nesta was still looking at him when she finally shut her eyes. I shifted, and the angle allowed me to see what I hadn’t detected before. Nesta stood before the map, a fist of bones and stones clenched over it. Cassian remained at her side—his other hand on her lower back. And I marveled at the touch she allowed—marveled at it as much as I did the mudsplattered hand she held out. The concentration that settled over her face. Her eyes shifted beneath their lids, as if scanning the world. “I don’t see anything.” “Go deeper,” Amren urged. “Find that tether between you.” She stiffened, but Cassian stepped closer, and she settled again. A minute went by. Then another. A muscle twitched on Nesta’s brow. Her hand bobbed. Her breath then came fast and hard, her lips curling back as she panted through her teeth. “Nesta,” Cassian warned.

Chapter 63 Cassian chuckled hoarsely, and looked to Nesta, who remained pale and quiet. What she’d seen, what I’d seen in her mind… The size of that army… “Eat or bed?” Cassian had asked Nesta, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as some invitation. I debated telling him he was in no shape. Nesta only said, “Bed.” And there was certainly no invitation in the exhausted reply.

Chapter 64 “We’ll get her back,” Cassian rasped from where he perched on the rolled arm of the chaise longue across the small sitting area, watching her carefully. Rhys, Amren, and Mor were meeting with the other High Lords, informing them what had been done. Seeing if they knew anything. Had any way of helping. Nesta lowered her hands, lifting her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, lips thin. “No, you will not.” She pointed to the map on the table. “I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no chance of any of you getting into its heart. Even you,” she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. “Especially not when you’re injured.”

Chapter 66 “Good,” Cassian said, glancing at Nesta. “If I end my life defending those who need it most, then I will consider it a death well spent.” Lord Devlon, for once, nodded his approval. I wondered if Cassian noticed it—if he cared. His face revealed nothing, not as his focus remained wholly on my sister.

Chapter 69 During the brief midday break in a large meadow, Nesta and I climbed inside one of the supply caravan’s covered wagons to change into Illyrian fighting leathers. When we emerged, Nesta even buckled a knife at her side. Cassian had insisted, yet he’d admitted that since she was untrained, she was just as likely to hurt herself as she was to hurt someone else.

Chapter 70 Nesta pushed herself onto her elbows, hair shaking free of her braid, lips bloodless. She heaved into the grass. Rhys’s magic shot out of him, arcing around our entire army, his breathing a wet rasp— Nesta’s hands grappled into the grass as she lifted her head, scanning the horizon. Like she could see right to where the Cauldron was now about to be unleashed. Rhys’s power flowed and flowed out of him, bracing for impact. Azriel’s Siphons flashed, a sprawling shield of cobalt locking over Rhysand’s, his breathing just as heavy as my mate’s— And then Nesta began screaming. Not in pain. But a name. Over and over. “CASSIAN.” Amren reached for her, but Nesta roared, “CASSIAN!” She scrambled to her feet, as if she’d leap into the skies. Her body lurched, and she went down, heaving again. A figure shot from the Illyrian ranks, spearing for us, flapping hard, red Siphons blazing— Nesta moaned, writhing on the ground. The earth seemed to shudder in response. No—not in response to her. In terror of the thing that erupted from Hybern’s army. I understood why the king had claimed those rocky foothills. Not to make us charge uphill if we should push them so far. But to position the Cauldron. For it was from the rocky outcropping that a battering ram of death-white light hurled for our army. Just about level with the Illyrian legion in the sky—as the Attor’s legion dropped to the earth, and ducked for cover. Leaving the Illyrians exposed. Cassian was halfway to us when the Cauldron’s blast hit the Illyrian forces. I saw him scream—but heard nothing. The force of that power… It shredded Azriel’s shield. Then Rhysand’s. And then shredded any Siphon-made ones. It hollowed out my ears and seared my face. And where a thousand soldiers had been a heartbeat before… Ashes rained down upon our foot soldiers. Nesta had known. She gaped up at me, terror and agony on her face, then scanned the sky for Cassian, who flapped in place, as if torn between coming for us and charging back to the scattering Illyrian and Peregryn ranks. She’d known where that blast was about to hit. Cassian had been right in the center of it. Or would have been, if she hadn’t called him away. Rhys was looking at her like he knew, too. Like he didn’t know whether to scold her for the guilt Cassian would no doubt feel, or thank her for saving him. Nesta’s body went stiff again, a low moan breaking from her. I felt Rhys cast out his power—a silent warning signal. The other High Lords raised shields this time, backing the one he rallied. But the Cauldron did not hit the same spot twice. And Hybern was willing to incinerate part of his own army if it meant wiping out a strength of ours. Cassian was again hurtling for us, for Nesta sprawled on the ground, as the light and unholy heat of the Cauldron were unleashed again.

Nesta had her brow in the grass as Cassian landed so hard the ground shuddered. He was reaching for her as he panted, “What is it, what—” “It’s gone quiet again,” Nesta breathed, letting Cassian haul her into a sitting position as he scanned her face. Devastation and rage lay in his own. Did he know? That she had screamed for him, knowing he’d come… That she’d done it to save him? Rhys only ordered him, “Get back in line. The soldiers need you there.” Cassian bared his teeth. “What the hell can we do against that?”

Chapter 72 Rhys made to shoot me back down to the ground, where Amren and Elain were still waiting. Nesta said, “Wait.” Rhys obeyed. Nesta stared toward that armada, toward our father fighting in it. “Use me. As bait.” I blinked at the same moment Cassian said, “No.” Nesta ignored him. “The king is probably waiting beside that Cauldron. Even if you get there, you’ll have him to contend with. Draw him out. Draw him far away. To me.” “How,” Rhys said softly. “It goes both ways,” Nesta murmured, as if my mate’s words moments before had triggered the idea. “He doesn’t know how much I took. And if … if I make it seem like I’m about to use his power … He’ll come running. Just to kill me.” “He will kill you,” Cassian snarled. Her hand clenched on his arm. “That’s—that’s where you come in.” To guard her. Protect her. To lay a trap for the king. “No,” Rhys said. Nesta snorted. “You’re not my High Lord. I may do as I wish. And since he’ll sense that you’re with me… You need to go far away, too.” Rhys said to Cassian, “I’m not letting you throw your life away for this.” I was inclined to agree. Cassian surveyed the depleted Illyrian lines, now holding strong as Azriel rallied them. “Az has control of the lines.” “I said no,” Rhys snapped. I’d never heard him use that tone with Cassian, with any of them. Cassian said steadily, “It’s the only shot we have of a diversion. Luring him away from that Cauldron.” His hands tightened on Nesta. “You gave everything, Rhys. You went through that hell for us, for fifty years.” He’d never addressed it—not fully. “You think I don’t know what happened? I know, Rhys. We all do. And we know you did it to save us, spare us.” He shook his head, sunlight glinting off that dark, winged helmet. “Let us return the favor. Let us repay the debt.” “There is no debt to repay.” Rhys’s voice broke. The sound of it cracked my heart. Cassian’s own voice broke as he said, “I never got to repay your mother—for her kindness. Let me do it this way. Let me buy you time.” “I can’t.” I wasn’t sure if in the entire history of Illyria, there had ever been such a discussion. “You can,” Cassian said gently. “You can, Rhys.” He gave a lazy grin. “Save some of the glory for the rest of us.” “Cassian—” But Cassian asked Nesta, “Do you have what you need?” Nesta nodded. “Amren showed me enough. What to do to rally the power to me.” And if Amren and I could control the Cauldron between us… That distraction they’d offer … Nesta looked down to Elain—our sister monitoring the bloodbath ahead. Then to me. She said quietly, “Tell Father—thank you.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Cassian, those gray-blue eyes bright, then they were gone.

Chapter 74 Nesta surged to her feet, staggering across the clearing, blood at her mouth from where he’d hit her, and threw herself to her knees before Cassian. “Get up,” she sobbed, hauling at his shoulder. “Get up.” He tried—and failed. “You’re too heavy,” she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armor. “I can’t—he’s coming—” “Go,” Cassian groaned. Her power had stopped hurling the king across the forest. He now stalked toward them, brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket—taking his time. Knowing she would not leave. Savoring the awaiting slaughter. Nesta gritted her teeth, trying to haul Cassian up once more. A broken sound of pain ripped from him. “Go! ” he barked at her. “I can’t,” she breathed, voice breaking. “I can’t.” The same words Rhys had given him. Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands—to cup her face. “I have no regrets in my life, but this.” His voice shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.” She didn’t stop him as he leaned up and kissed her—lightly. As much as he could manage. Cassian said softly, brushing away the tear that streaked down her face, “I will find you again in the next world—the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.” The King of Hybern stepped into that clearing, dark power wafting from his fingertips. And even the Cauldron seemed to pause in surprise—surprise or some … feeling as Nesta looked at the king with death twining around his hands, then down at Cassian. And covered Cassian’s body with her own. Cassian went still— then his hand slid over her back. Together. They’d go together. I will offer you a bargain, I said to the Cauldron. I will offer you my soul. Save them. “Romantic,” the king said, “but ill-advised.” Nesta did not move from where she shielded Cassian’s body.

Chapter 80 My sister had barely spoken, barely eaten these past few days. Had not visited Cassian in his healing bed. Still had not talked to me about what had happened.

- END - 

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