#*proceeds to ignore myself and continue*

[spinoff-antithesis]

(muth being music theory!)

[ghostlysoaps]

Emergency First Aid

He finds Ghost in the bathroom, needle and thread in crimson-stained hands. 

White porcelain muddled with grime and blood, smeared across the cubicle glass. A bottle of something see-through sitting on the lip of the tub – the label near illegible by the fingerprints wrapped around it. Every detail pointing towards it being a scene from some B-list horror flick. Except it can't be. Because Johnny’s nails dig into the palms of his hands and pain has no presence in dreams.

Ghost's skin is almost as pale as the cradle he sits in. Johnny can see the stark blue of his veins through the fragile skin of his wrists. A far more flattering colour on him than red, it's why he pretends he doesn’t know where his favourite henley ended up.

"Get out of my fucking room, Soap."

Johnny nods and then proceeds further into the room, careful to avoid the droplets of blood staining the tiles in a fucked-up breadcrumb trail.

Ghost levels him with an unamused glare, a non-verbal "go away," ringing louder than if he'd said it outright. 

He ignores that too.

The stitching is neither crude nor neat when he leans in for a closer look. Serviceable. Bound to scar. It might have regardless, medical ain't miracle workers, but it might, might have left a thinner mark.

"Soap?"

Ghost's eyes are brown as jasper, doe-wide, extruding exhaustion and warmth – in spite of how much effort he puts into burying that bleeding heart of his. They track Johnny’s progress warily. Glides over him when he wraps his own fingers around the bottle, fingers a good half-inch shorter than the red stains already there. Johnny knows all this despite not looking. Because they've been here before. Too often for his liking. 

He sets about cleaning the tacky trails of blood from Ghost’s skin. 

"Johnny?"

Why are his hands shaking? They're not supposed to do that he doesn't think.

"It's just a scratch, I've had worse."

His tongue unsticks from where it lies dead and heavy in his mouth. "I fuckin' know. 'M not blind."

Warm, calloused hands envelop his own. They stop him from digging deeper welts into his own skin. Massages gently until Johnny, against his will, unclenches and unfolds like a flowering bloom at the first hint of sunlight.

"This won't be what kills me–"

"Haud yer wheesht! Whit this shoddy excuse fer sutures anything's–"

"–because I've no intention of leaving you yet," Ghost– Simon continues, as if Johnny hadn't interrupted him at all. "I've clawed myself back from the edge of hell more times than I care to count." He knocks their heads together, one hand moving to thread fingers though Johnny’s hair. "It's much easier now that I have something to come back to."

Johnny takes a moment to process and sift through the wreckage those words leave behind.

"Take yer damn mask off an' say tha' to my face," he growls.

And Simon doesn't hesitate for a second. He peels the mask off, his second skin, as if it's easier than breathing. As if Johnny’s words were the decree of a higher power he's helpless to obey. Scarred skin and chapped lips and dark circles blending into greasepaint greets him – a sight no longer unfamiliar, but a privilege to behold nonetheless. 

"I-" is as far as Simon comes before Johnny is surging forward to take his bottom lip between his teeth. He kisses him like something feral and starved. As if he could crawl into Simon's mouth if he tried hard enough. Push through muscle, bone and sinew to make space for himself in the hollow of his ribcage.

He doesn't like the anger with which he devours him – the ever-present companion snarling in his chest – but he needs him to understand. Thinks that if he tries hard enough Simon might taste the words lodged firmly behind his molars. I can't stand to lose you. It scares me to the point of losing my breath. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

For all his rage, for all the fiery passion with which he lashes out, in the end it all stems from fear.

"Could've at least gone to medical, ye absolute weapon," he bites out, one hand stressing over the skin right beneath Simon's wound.

"Couldn't stand the thought of anyone touching me," Simon murmurs, catching Johnny’s wrist the moment he goes to pull away as if burnt. "'S better now. I'd have told you to fuck off proper if I didn't–" he cuts himself off, the tips of his ears going pink.

Johnny fills in the blanks, eyes falling shut for the fraction of a second.

"Dinnae deep down wan' me to be here."

Simon shrugs.

Johnny exhales, leans forward and rests his forehead to Simon's shoulder, kisses him sweetly right after.

"Let me help you."

"Please." 

He's glad to be looking at Simon now because Simon, whenever Ghost has fled his visage, is an open book. And the way he's looking at Johnny? It's as if he'd taken every soft, sweet thing Johnny feels for him and is reflecting it right back.

With another steadying breath, Johnny gets to work. Gauze and adhesive tape, as quick as he dares so as to not prolong the pain. And when he's done he brushes his lips over the white bandaging, looking up through his lashes when the simple gesture of affection causes Simon's breath to hitch. Keeps to his knees despite the ache in them.

"You come to me next time," Johnny says, a plea more so than the demand he'd hoped for.

Simon reaches for him, cups his stubbled cheek in hand, thumb rubbing in broad strokes across a near imperceptible scar there – his next words ringing with the gravity of church bells and promises spoken within. 

"Alright, Johnny."

---

Prompts via @whumperless-whump-event and @seth-whumps

[strangerstilinski]

𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; steve takes care of his sick gf

warnings; no use of y/n, (steve refers to reader as ‘girl’ but no mentions of specific anatomy i don't think), multiple descriptions of vomiting, steve being stupidly sweet, casual/non-sexual nudity, sickfic, fluff

word count; ~4k

a/n; i wrote 99% of this while i was sick and exhausted myself, so i'm not insanely happy with it??? but, uh.. fuck it? right? also this is my first time posting something on here that isn't DOB so pls, pls be nice — i beg you.

You had thought it would get better.

You'd thought that sleep would be enough to get rid of the overpowering warmth that had begun to prickle uncomfortably under your skin, the congestion that left your head feeling like it was just a little bit too big, too heavy, for your body. The better part of the last twelve hours have been spent curled up in bed, hoping to sleep it off.

You're not entirely sure what illness is to blame for your current state, but you're cursing each and every possible one as you stumble into the bathroom and fall to your knees in front of the toilet. An immediate ache from the collision against the floor goes ignored, as does the cold that bites at your shins through the glossy tiles.

Now, as your body rolls and tenses with heaves and coughs that have you spilling the remains of your dinner from the night before into clean porcelain, you can't quite believe that you'd dared to be so naively optimistic.

Time passes in that horrible way it always does when you feel poorly, too slow at times and a total blur at others. Your head has been pillowed on your arm at the edge of the toilet for one of those blurred stretches, time fuzzy while you catch your breath. You hear the loud trill of the phone ringing out from down the hallway and your head shoots up at the sudden noise. You intend on hobbling out of the bathroom to answer it, but the too-quick motion of your head snapping to attention has your stomach turning all over again.

The ringing continues as you upend the final contents of your stomach, and the grating noise of the telephone finally dies off only to pick back up again just as your puking turns into nothing more than dry-heaves, body still protesting despite there being nothing left inside of you to give.

When the roiling of your stomach settles slightly, it takes all of your strength to pull yourself to your feet, flushing the toilet and grabbing the bottle of perfumed bathroom spray to mask the lingering smell that's doing absolutely nothing to ease your nausea.

You fumble for a moment as you locate your thermometer, placing the end of the small glass tube under your tongue as you lean onto your elbows over the sink, head dropping weakly as you wait. When you pull the device from your lips a few minutes later, the little red line reads somewhere around a hundred, and you drop it to the back of the counter with a huff.

Your weight continues rest heavily on the edges of the sink as you flick on the tap and proceed to take a few long sips straight from the stream of cold water, rushing to take in grateful gulps. It clears some of the bitterness from your tongue, washing away the rancid taste of bile and stomach acid while settling cooly in your feverish body.

You push back up, weight resting on your palms until you can regard your unusually pallor complexion in the mirror. Your eyes are bleary, a little wet still with tears from your battle with your own body a few minutes before. The sight of just how truly unwell you look has your stomach turning all over again, the cold water in your stomach suddenly feeling as if it's moving in heavy, churning waves inside of you, as if it's fighting to break free.

You barely make it back to the toilet before you're retching and dumping back out all of the water that you'd forced into your body perhaps a bit too quickly.

You're so exhausted by the time your stomach settles once more, you don't manage more than flushing the toilet and misting the air with another quick spritz of freshener before you've slumped against the wall and begun to doze.

When your boyfriend eventually comes knocking at your front door, the sound isn't enough to rouse you, not even when the noise grows a little more frantic from anxiety, palms slamming against the surface paired with muffled shouts of concern through the thick wood.

You remain entirely unaware as an increasingly worried Steve Harrington begins searching for your spare key with muffled curses. He nearly upends the potted plant you have outside your door, kicking your doormat across the hallway in his haste to unlock your door and shove his way into your apartment. Steve stumbles through several rooms before he finds you in the bathroom and his steps falter at the sight that awaits him.

You look so pathetic it's startling; curled in on yourself in a way that makes you appear smaller, weak and innocent, younger even. Your head is tipped against the wall, lolled to the side until your nose and chin are nearly touching your shoulder. He knows it has to be wreaking havoc on the muscles in your neck, and he nearly winces at the thought, pushing further into the room and squatting down in front of you. Steve's hand finds your cheek, supporting some of the weight of your head to straighten your spine just a touch as he assesses the sickly pallor your skin has taken.

“Oh, honey.” Steve says softly, thumb stroking from your jaw to the apple of your cheek and back down again.

The soft touch is enough to finally wake you and he watches your eyes blink heavily, feverish confusion pulling your brows together as you struggle to focus on the face in front of you. You pout at him and the sight of your lip jutting out is so cute that Steve fails to notice your arm rising weakly from where it was blocked by the toilet. Not until it's too late.

A honeysuckle scented mist sprays in his direction, forcing him to flinch back in surprise as the perfume invades his nostrils.

“Jesus!” Steve exclaims in surprise, hacking slightly at the taste of it on his tongue, “Baby, what the hell?”

Your nose scrunches up as both your arm and the spray bottle fall heavily into your lap. You blink at him slow, “Smells like vom in here.” You explain meekly.

“It smells fine.” He tries to reassure you, pulling the de-odorizer from your weak grip and setting it on the countertop behind himself and effectively out of your reach.

“Wha're you doing 'ere?” You question in a rasp, shaky hand grabbing ahold of his wrist as if trying to prove to yourself that he's real and not some fever-induced hallucination.

“You weren't pickin' up my calls,” He tells you softly, thumb beginning to move across the heated skin of your cheek again, “I knew you were plannin' on staying in to get some cleaning done. When you didn't answer my mind kinda ran wild. Thought you might've slipped and fallen and cracked your head off the kitchen counter or somethin'. I dunno, I just.. I got worried, sweetheart. Came to check in for my own peace of mind,” His gaze trails the length of your body, taking in your wrinkled tshirt, your bare feet, your clammy skin, the puffiness around your eyes, “I'm glad I did.”

“‘'m sorry I didn't pick up the phone,” You apologize quietly, your gaze drifting to the toilet for a moment before slowly meeting his again, “Was busy puking my guts out.”

The way your lip pulls up at the corner from your own dry humor has Steve cracking a smile, his voice fond when it sounds again.

“I see that,” He says with a sigh, “How long you been sick?”

You try to shrug but your shoulders barely move, your body too weak to manage more than a small twitch of your muscles, “Started feeling shitty last night before bed. Slept a lot. Got sick when I woke up this afternoon.” As if suddenly realizing the lack of brightness coming in through the bathroom window, your raspy voice comes again, “Time s'it?”

“Five-ish,” Steve tells you with a frown, pretty brown eyes flicking over your face, “You haven't eaten anything?”

You give him a small shake of your head, his large hand supporting most of the weight of your skull as you do so, “M'sick.”

He sighs, “You still gotta eat, honey. Have to get something in your stomach if you're gonna get your strength back.”

You shake your head again, sad eyes meeting his, “I'll just throw it up. Don't want to get sick again.”

Steve smiles at you pityingly, a sad thing, “We'll try something real small to start, how's that?”

“How small?” You ask nervously.

“Some soup?”

You shake your head.

“Just broth and some crackers?” He bargains.

Your stomach rolls at the mere thought and it must show on your face because he sighs heavily.

“Dry toast?” He tries.

Your eyebrows pull together, but the thought doesn't immediately make you queasy, so you give him an indecisive shrug.

“Let’s try some toast, yeah, honey?” Steve says softly.

His fingers gently brush your hair back from your face and your mind whirls in realization.

“Oh god,” You bemoan weakly, “'s there puke in my hair?”

“No,” He says a little to quickly, “No, baby, there's nothing in your hair.”

You give him a look to say that you don't believe him for a single second, but he's looking at you so fondly that your expression melts away into something soft almost immediately.

“You want me to tie your hair back?” Steve asks, already turning around to peek at the bathroom countertop where there's a mess of hair ties and clips littering the surface.

“The big one.” You tell him, nodding vaguely in the direction of your favorite scrunchie.

He turns back around with the puffy material pinched between his fingers, already combing your hair back and collecting it in a bundle with gentle hands. The sensation of air meeting the clammy nape of your neck feels so good that you let out a small noise of relief, leaning forward to give him more room while he tries to smooth out the lumps in your hair with his fingers.

Once he's managed a messy ponytail, his wide palms rest on the sides of your neck, thumbs ghosting along your jawline as he frowns at the feverish sweat on your brow.

“You taken your temperature at all?” He questions in concern, his fingers meeting your forehead and somehow managing to feel blessedly cool against your overheated skin, “You feel like you're burnin' up, sweetheart.”

“Hundred or so.” You tell him, eyes falling shut as you lean into the feeling of his hand against your sweaty skin.

Steve hums, an unhappy sound, “That's not too bad. Not good by any means, but it's nothin' to be too worried about, huh?” He sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more than you, so you merely nod against his hand. He sighs after a moment, “Right. C'mon. Up we go.” He urges softly, arm curling around your back with one hand gripping at your hip as he pulls you to your feet.

You're not sure how he manages it so effortlessly, the only hint of his strain is the soft grunt he lets out when you collapse against his chest and knock a little bit of the wind from him. You bury your nose into the dip of his clavicle, the strip of skin and scarce chest hair poking out from beneath the collar of his stretched shirt is soft to the touch and masculine smelling and overall a little dizzying — although, the way you sway against him has you wondering if maybe that's just the fever.

“Toast.” Steve reminds you softly, hand slipping beneath your baggy sleep shirt — one that had been his shirt, once upon a time — to run his thumb over the soft, overheated skin at your hip.

You grumble something that's not quite disapproval or approval, a weak sounding thing to protest the thought of moving from your current position, but with an endeared sigh and a soft press of his lips to your sweaty temple, Steve's manhandling you into a better position. Your feet end up over the tops of his, your arms curled up underneath his own to grip weakly onto the backs of his shoulders. He holds you steady with one hand at the center of your spine and the other spread over your backside in likely the least sexual touch he's ever graced to that area of your body.

You manage a weak murmur about him copping a feel and he laughs. It falls over your ear in a breathy little chuckle as Steve carefully waddles the two of you down the hall. His arms continue to hold you tight to his chest while walks you back around the corner leading into your small kitchen, flicking the overhead light on as he goes.

“Hows'it you're mouthy even when you're on your deathbed?” He asks, a small grin on his face as he gently gets you settled up onto one of the kitchen stools where you can rest while he makes you food.

You collapse onto your elbows against the countertop as soon as he releases you, cheek resting heavy in your palm as you peer up at him.

“Dunno..” You tell him quietly, eyes flicking over Steve's face slow in a way that you didn't quite manage in the dim light of the bathroom.

His hair looks a little fluffier than normal, soft and messy in a way that makes you want to run your hands through it, tug soft on the strand that dips down over his forehead and curls toward his eye in that effortlessly beautiful kind of way. Caramel swirls prettily with the darker shades of brown and gold in his eyes, pink lips pulled into a barely-there grin when he turns back toward you after grabbing a half eaten loaf of bread from the cupboard.

You're watching him with a dazed sort of admiration, “How s'it you look so pretty even when I'm on my deathbed?” You counter dreamily, arms crossing against the cool countertop so that you can rest your temple over the tops of them when your head suddenly starts to feel a little too heavy, vision swaying.

Steve laughs softly as he gets two slices of bread into the toaster, “I'm not sure there's a correlation between my good-looks and your health,” The sound of his amusement fades out when he looks back at you and finds your new position, “Oh, Honey..” He says simply, the words pitying.

“'m dizzy.” You tell him with closed eyes. The darkness behind your eyelids doing nothing to slow the spinning in your brain.

“Well I'm sure that not eating all day is at least partially to blame for that,” Steve says softly, “Your body can't fight the virus if you don't give it any fuel.”

You pout petulantly, knowing he's probably right, “You're annoying when you're smart.”

The swirling blackness behind your closed eyes slows, your breathing following suit as you relax against the counter.

“C'mon, sit up, sweetheart.”

The sound of his voice startles you and the quiet clink of a ceramic plate being set down on the counter beside your head has you deducing that you might have fallen asleep for a few moments. You make a small noise of surprise as your gaze moves to the food on the plate, plain dry toast. Steve has sliced it into cute, neat little triangles for you and your heart melts a little at the gesture.

Hands on your arms guide you gently into an upright position as Steve crowds up against your side, letting you rest your weight into the wall of his chest when your head swims a little from the movement. You grab a slice of lightly toasted bread from the plate in front of you and bring it to your lips, nibbling slow at the corner with your eyes closed, trying to focus on the way you rise and fall with Steve's breaths where you're resting against him — the expansion of his lungs beneath his ribs rocking you in a slow, steady movement while you attempt to force down comically tiny bites.

Steve drags his palm along the length of your spine, drawing a smooth path up and down as you eat.

“Doin' good, babe,” He praises softly, his free hand falling to rest lightly on your stomach where he begins to trace tiny circles over your shirt, “You don't have to eat it all. Just need to get a little something in your stomach.”

You hum around your sliver of toast, crumbs raining down on both of your chests and clinging to the fabric of your shirts as you chew. It takes a stupidly long time, but you manage to finish a single triangle of bread, and Steve continues with his soothing touches all the while.

He feels you grip the hem of his shirt in your fist, your sweaty face turning into his chest with an unintelligible murmur, and he brings his hand on your back up to rest between your shoulder blades.

“You done for now?” Steve asks gently, fingers rubbing softly into the tense muscles beneath your neck as you nod, “Probably haven't had anything to drink either, huh?”

You shake your head and a frown pulls at your lips when he takes a small step away from you, “Wha'-?”

“Gonna grab you a glass of water, alright? Then we can take a bath. Get you all clean and relaxed.”

He's already stepping away before you can protest, though the phantom sensation of the water that had re-emerged from your mouth an hour or so earlier has you frowning anxiously.

Unaware of your silent distress, Steve grabs a glass and turns on the tap, the loud rush of the water hitting the sink basin filling the room while he sticks his hand under the flow. He stands like that for a few moments, fiddling with the temperature a couple of times before he fills the cup. He returns to you only moments later, settling the glass into your palms with more gentleness than you think you've ever experienced.

As both of your trembling hands lift the water to your lips, you take a small sip, frowning and lowering the glass only a moment later.

“It's warm.” You complain weakly, face scrunching up in disgust as you meet his eyes.

Steve nods and his hand urges your own to bring the glass back to your lips, “Cold water will shock your stomach,” He tells you softly, “Gotta be warm if you don't wanna get sick. My strong girl just ate half a piece of toast, you don't want to immediately throw it back up, do ya?”

“No.” You murmur around the lip of the glass, taking another careful sip.

“No,” Steve agrees, wide palm coming up to brush a few loose wisps of hair back from your forehead, “Doing good, honey, real good. Just a few more sips and we'll get you in the bath.”

You frown at the reminder, clutching your cup to your chest with both hands, “Oh god,” You whisper in horror, “I smell.. I smell really bad, don't I?”

“You don't smell,” Steve promises with a soft smile, though it's not entirely convincing, “A bath'll help your head, though. You said you were dizzy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree quietly, “Feels, like, swollen. Like my head's gonna explode.. But also 's spinny.”

“The steam will help,” He promises, “And you'll feel better when you're fresh and clean, y'know?”

You sigh around another sip of the warm water, a reluctant nod against the hand resting over your forehead. He urges you to drink a little more before he's dragging you back toward your bathroom.

You're forced to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, watching with tired eyes as Steve flits in and out of the room — adjusting the flow of the water in the bathtub and digging through your basket of bath salts and filling a bowl from the sink tap for reasons you can't imagine but don't bother to question aloud.

Instead, you wait. The loud rush of water filling the tub lulls you into a sort of trance until your eyes are slipping shut, head swaying heavily on your shoulders. The steam filling the room smells nice, lavender salts and oils having been added to the bath at some point, and the smell has you beginning to relax.

“Not fallin' asleep on me already, are you?”

You blink slow, heavy eyelids fluttering as you open your eyes to find Steve standing in front of you, already stripped down to his boxers. He steps between your legs to pull your shirt up over your head and you're down to only your underwear with just that one quick move. When he pulls you up, gentle hands cupping your elbows in case you sway on your feet, you lean into his bare chest with a contented sigh.

“This is nice.” You murmur, rubbing your cheek against the soft hairs littering his chest.

“This isn't even the relaxing part, honey,” Steve chuckles softly, his hands falling to your hips to rid you of your final article of clothing, “Come on. In you go.”

He helps you step over the lip of the tub, one hand in yours and the other on your waist to steady you. The water is hot and silky against your skin, a gasp on your lips when it first licks at your calves. It sends blissful shivers down your spine as you settle down into it, your eyes falling shut with a contented groan as you curl your arms around your knees and bow your head to rest over them.

You're only alone for a moment before Steve is settling in behind you, his long legs caging you in as they stretch the length of the tub. The water flowing from the tap cuts off and the room is thrust into startling silence, the thundering sound of the bathtub filling being replaced with the quiet sloshing of the water as Steve adjusts himself beside you.

You gasp in surprise when a warm stream of water falls over your shoulder and you crack your eyes open to watch as Steve cups his hands again, bringing the water to the back of your neck and releasing it in a warm rush down your spine. You hum in approval and he repeats the action a few times, dropping handfuls of water over your back as the steam works to lessen the pressure in your head.

A few minutes pass before Steve's maneuvering you around with big hands at your ribs, your thighs splaying wide over either side of his knees as he settles back against the end of the tub. Water sloshes around you with all the movement, licking high on your skin until you rest chest to chest, your face tucking into the damp curve of his neck.

“You alright like this?” Steve checks, his voice unbearably soft as the words fan out over cheek, “You comfortable?”

You hum happily, eyes closed, “So comfy, Stevie.”

He brings a big, bath-warmed palm up to rest on your shoulder, wet fingers trailing along your skin and leaving tiny oil-sheened drops of water behind that bead down the length of your arm and back as they fall.

Just as your mind starts to slip into that space between wakefulness and sleep, a startlingly cold cloth is pressed to your forehead. The chill has you reeling back slightly, a betrayed sort of frown on your face as you peer at your boyfriend who's holding a damp washcloth in his hand.

“To help bring down your fever,” Steve supplies in response to your silent question, “Sorry. I should've warned you.”

You settle back against his chest with a small huff, hand curling around his wrist as a way of telling him it was okay to try again. The cold doesn't shock you nearly as much the second time around, taking only a moment to warm into a comfortable coolness against your skin.

A deep breath fills your lungs with the sweet smell of lavender combined with the lingering musk of Steve's cologne. Your fingers trail over damp skin until you can settle your palm against his pec, blunt nails tracing slow patterns on his skin through the short damp hairs.

“Thank you,” You whisper over his chest, your breath causing his nipple to pebble up against the steam-thickened air, “So good to me, Steve. 'm so glad I have you.”

The wet cloth against your forehead disappears only to return a moment later, cool again from having been dipped back into the bowl of cold water Steve had placed beside the tub. Your breath stutters a bit at the chill, body tensing and relaxing back against him only a second later.

“How many times have you been the one taking care of me, huh?” Steve asks, fingers dragging up and down along the skin at the outside of your thigh in a soothing touch, “And I'd say you're in much better condition now than I was at least a few of those times.”

“'s different,” You argue quietly, “You were hurt. You're always getting hurt.”

“And you're always there to take care of me,” Steve agrees, “So I'm gonna take care of you. 'cause we got each other's backs, don't we, honey?”

His voice is smooth like silk to your ears, his big hand still trailing softly along your skin. His fingers find their way to your shoulder, the gentle drag of his knuckles skating along your jaw, the apple of your cheek, the length your brow bone, tiny streaks of moisture left behind in his wake.

“Yeah,” You murmur against his skin, tipping your head to place a small kiss to the corner of your boyfriend's jaw, “We do.”

[imaginative-123]

Why Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss have a Misandry Issue Part 1

A part of me questions myself if I have to make this post, but then I decided in my free time I finally let go of my doubts and have finally decided to make this post, bec deep inside I wanted to be honest with both of these shows how it depicts men including men who are part of the LGBTQ spectrum, the post will be me going in depth of the creator's shows, that includes the analysis and criticisms of Vivziepop's work.

TRIGGER WARNING:

This post will contain Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, R@pe, Power Dynamics/ Power Imbalance, Misogyny and Misandry.

If you are uncomfortable with this topic that I'm going to discuss, you can choose not to continue reading this post however if you are willing to continue regardless of the contents and sensitive topics that I'm going to discuss, please proceed with caution.

So first let's talk about Misandry, since this term isn't as well known as Misogyny, Misandry's definition is the dislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against men (i.e. the male sex). However Misandry is a term I didn't recognize being used until this year when I found on Reddit that there are few posts and comments talking about it compared to Misogyny, and it surprised me why isn't this term isn't as talked about but then in my experience on Twitter and Reddit that there are certain subreddits and other comments denying that "Misandry doesn't exist."

To which I disagree while yes I'm a woman, I do see and experience Misogyny in online spaces including in real world and other women face thru issues like sexism, physical and emotional abuse from other men, r@pe, sexual harassment and etc., that still doesn't excuse being biased and ignore what men faced thru in real life, there are stories I've seen from other men who were drugged and also being physically abused by their ex girlfriend or other women, r@ped and sexually abused by the older woman or in this case an older man, I've seen a video before of a guy singing on stage only to get groped on his dick by a woman and she laughed at him and at the end he was shocked and left the stage from embarrassment, falsely being accused of sexual assault, toxic yaoi fangirls sexually harassing gay or straight men of who's the top and bottom, little boys being molested or raped by older people, families and that includes male and female teachers, telling Men to stop crying bec Boys can't cry, there is also a Twitter post from a woman wishing Male Suicide rates go up, there are few Twitter posts from Women wishing to abort male babies from existing, ignoring Male SA Victims and laugh at their experience bec they got "lucky" and wish they got into their place, Media that makes jokes about Male SA and etc., seeing these stories from men who experience that really made me feel sorry for them and I don't think they deserved that. Plus, this isn't me discrediting female victims I do also support them including male victims, in regards to r@pe just bec it happens to women it can also happen to men including people on the LGBTQ community and nobody deserved to be r@ped, I'm not an SA Survivor, but I'm so glad I didn't experienced it bec of how traumatizing and horrifying r@pe is, and also a comment earlier I've seen on Reddit is that Women and children r@ped and died from the hands of men, yes I'm not denying it definitely exists but doesn't mean we can ignore that it can happen to men including little boys in the hands of their abusers and murderers. Also my brother was physically abused by my father and my sister had to witnessed the abuse on front of her, my Mom and Dad were always fighting personal problems and I was also physically abused by my father before my parents separated and it took me years for my father to changed as a person before he died in Sept 5, 2016 due to Stroke. Plus this year is his death anniversary, I understand if there are children who can't forgive their abusive parent but for me my father proved to me that he can change as a person and I have already have forgiven him before he died.

The main reason why I want to discuss Misandry bec it relates to Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss while I can see many posts discussing how poorly the main female characters are handled by Vivziepop and I completely understand why the critical community have issues with that, the issues that happened with the male characters in regards to Misandry have few posts which is why I want to tackle it.

The next topic I want to tackle is the MLM or Gay Representation in the show Helluva Boss bec this also the main reason why I made this post.

Vivziepop and her crew loved to boast and pride about their Queer Representation but as someone who watched the show, as a bisexual woman myself, the Queer Representation is just as shallow and a mixed bag to be honest, the reason for that is Viv's depiction of gay men is not only misandrist but also sexist on how they were depicted. But before we deep dive to the male gay characters on how they were depicted I wanted to focus on the term that is mostly being used on fictional gay relationships that is Yaoi. Yaoi is a Japanese term for manga that features sexual romance between men, specifically as created by and for women. In the West, yaoi is used more generally to refer to any anime, manga, fan fiction, that focuses on romance between men. Although to be fair, Yaoi from what I've seen can also be consumed by gay men, the main reason I brought up Yaoi is that because Viv's shows are being accused of stereotypes about gay men such as fetishization of r@pe, power imbalance, sexual harassment and etc. That's because Yaoi is a very controversial subject in the community where there are gay people who are split about the depictions of gay men in Yaoi and BL's, there are gay men who dislike the fetishization and that it only appeals to women but there are others who defend it as just fiction.

For me personally I don't think there's an issue with consuming Yaoi or BL's and I'm not saying women can't enjoy it, but as someone who is desensitized to the stereotypes that BL I consumed in my earlier teen years I can't just ignore the real issue, bec back then I used to be a proshipper, I used to defend artists who were being sent death threats and harassments from antis and I used to defend problematic fiction and ships and I always go thru arguments with people who don't like it, I was offensive and also not mentally well in the past but as of this year I no longer support Proshipping since I do not stand by that including my not so great behavior from the past, but that doesn't mean I will not stoop down to the same level of antis that will harass or threaten proshippers and I don't accept that. However just bec it's fiction argument, it still needs to be criticized for valid reasons, and also just bec Yaoi have stereotypes does this mean the entire genre is like this? No, there are other stories who don't fall into the same problematic stereotypes, but still sadly, Yaoi and BL is still controversial for continuing it's stereotypical depiction of gay men and it's also mostly present in Webtoons and Manhwas.

When I revisited GoatJesus' video about Examining the Yaoi ★ BL Genre where he as a gay man analyzes but also criticize Yaoi's depiction of men but also praises other shows for straying away from stereotypes and there are certain parts of the video that stood out to me that I will put here where GoatJesus talks about the main points about Yaoi. To which I edited 2 clips into 1 video.

Regarding the women who write BL or Yaoi's, I'm not against women who write that specific genre, nor I'm mysogynistic that women have no freedom to write stories, and I do believe that not many female authors fall into writing stereotypes about gay men, however this does not mean that I can't just ignore that other women and other most popular female writers who still write harmful views onto gay men and this comment under GoatJesus video sums up my main issues from that online article that was being discussed.

The reason it's related to Vivziepop, bec Viv herself a female writer still falls into writing stereotypes about gay men and I will finally discuss on the subject of Helluva Boss first before Hazbin Hotel. The first characters we will going to tackle is Blitz, the main character and founder of IMP, and he himself is also confirmed to be Pansexual.

I'll be completely honest, Blitz is an interesting character, he himself have relationship problems of his insecurities getting in his way and mostly the mistakes that he made to people whom he used to be closed with, and he usually acts as confident and arrogant and badass on the outside but deep inside he had issues, but the way the show tackles jokes that Blitz made is really uncomfortable most especially in Season 1 where he made rape threats to Moxxie and his wife Millie.

That next episodes includes making demeaning jokes to Moxxie and let's not forget sexual harassment and invading space of the Imp couple.

The biggest problem is that Blitz up until Apology Tour had never tried to apologize for making Moxxie uncomfortable and invading him and his wife's personal space, while yes it is true that Blitz himself craves for a healthy relationship that he sees in them that doesn't excuse his past actions. This is not only the issue I see in Blitz's character this is also how other characters also treat him like dirt. Let's start with Loona, Blitz was a caring but also overprotective of Loona bec he himself first discovered Loona at the adoption center for Hellhounds where he saw Loona fending herself against a male hellhound who tried to hurt her and she herself was alone and crying about how depressing her situation was, which thankfully Blitz with good intentions did finally adopted her and became her dad, throughout S1 Loona herself was like any other emo goth girl but for Blitz regardless of Loona's personality still loved her, this however changed in Spring Broken where Loona developed a crush on Vortex and that's where Blitz developed his overprotective tendencies to which when they got in the human world where Loona tried to start a conversation with Vortex until Blitz interrupted them bec he wanted to focus on the main goal of getting back their parking space from Verosika and that's where they both started arguing bec Loona thinks Blitz can't leave her alone and she told him he's not her real dad and she herself views as an adult, Blitz cannot control his overprotective tendencies and Loona tells Blitz she doesn't need him. Loona later tries to apologize but Blitz cuts her off and tells her to enjoy her break while he continues finishing his job, although after Millie defeats the fish monster they both came back in the human world, in Truth Seeker, Loona and Millie where willing to rescue the boys who were left in the human world and being abducted by the Dhorks and Loona was willing to help her team defeat the members of the Dhorks and Loona was given a kiss in the cheek by Blitz and he was proud of her for helping IMP to which she was embarrassed but still continues fighting. The episode that stood out to me is Queen Bee which is the last segment where Loona takes care of the drunk Blitz and was willing to let him rest after Blitz tells her his insecurities of his fear of dying but Loona reassures him she will be there for him.

You know maybe Loona wasn't that bad to Blitz right? Right? Wrong, in the past I used to liked Seeing Stars bec of Loona and Octavia's relationship develop like sisters, yet this however doesn't excuse the problem on how Loona treats Blitz as she's suddenly violent and being abusive to Blitz for no reason like Blitz regardless of me not excusing how he treated Moxxie, but I don't recall him sexually harassing Loona nor talking about her body, all I remember is him trying to be a good dad to Loona yet somehow he's in the wrong for wanting Loona to be better and yet at the end get kicked in the nuts for no reason despite Blitz wanting to apologize to her because?

"HAHAHA! IT'S GIRLBOSS, AND FEMINIST TO KICK MEN IN THE NUTS FOR NO REASON OTHER THAN COMEDY! PLEASE LAUGH!!!"

That's not funny, that's insulting and it definitely regressed the development of Loona and Blitz father and daughter relationship in the first season. Loona however just like Blitz had never apologized for treating people in the wrong and the show somehow forgot about it and it just went back to normal. So anyways let's talk about Stolas, Stolas is by far one of the most controversial characters in the show bec there are people being split about his character, there are fans who loved him but there are haters who truly hated him, bec there are reasons the critical space is not fond or welcome of him, that's bec he has the power in the relationship bec he and Blitz were in a transactional relationship where Blitz is required to have sex with Stolas so that he can still borrow the Grimoire book to the human world for his business of killing people. The Reason there is a Power Imbalance comes from the fact that Blitz an Imp that is a lower class demon and Stolas is from the Goetia a higher class demon above imps and not only Goetias are also racists and looked down upon Imps with the exception of Octavia. This is the common trope that you may see in problematic relationships that also includes transactional relationships in Yaoi and BL's where the Seme has the power and masculinity in the relationship while the Uke is lower and have no agency of his free will and this is the equivalent of a heternomative stereotypes that is placed upon 2 men, while there are people who analyzed Yaoi said that it have Misogynistic tropes bec of hetenormative roles places upon men, I'd say in my opinion it's more Misandrist bec it doesn't view men in an actual gay relationship but in a lens of a straight person on how they view gay men. This is however in Helluva Boss the roles are reversed since Blitz is the top while Stolas is the power bottom, but let's be real if Stolas a Rich Goetia is the Top and have power in the relationship while Blitz is the bottom in lower class it would be much more controversial and people would see it more as sexual coercion. But bec the roles are reversed and why there are fans of the ship don't view it as toxic bec Stolas a gay bottom man was babyfied by the narrative that can't do wrong in the relationship and that Stolitz is just a misunderstanding of bad communication in a relationship when if anyone with critical lens would look deeper and see the relationship as problematic and there is a power imbalance in their relationship yet I found out that one of the fans of HB said that Stolitz is meant to be endgame by Viv, and I was like did Viv see nothing wrong in their relationship? The relationship was built from transaction, including Stolas sexually harassing Blitz in front of his daughter, was the result of cheating from his wife Stella as to why she was rightfully upset at her husband and it was retconned in Season 2 to make her a cartoonish villain with no depth compared to Stolas, and they were supposed to be canon at end? No thank you, Ma'am, Blitz deserved a better partner than Stolas or hell he could've fixed his relationship with Verosika since I found their relationship more interesting than Stolitz, yet Blitz was the one who should apologize to Stolas instead of Stolas taking accountability and not apologizing for looking down on him, sexually harassing him and having the power in the relationship. It's just frustrating to watch that not only diminishes the YT views of S2 compared to S1 but the relationship overtakes the premise of the show about assassination. Doesn't help the fact the show has the will they don't they kind of relationship where the show finds Stolitz to be romantic but also not romantic at the same just like how Viv and her writing staff view them.

Now let's talk about Chaz, he's the character I truly hate on my first viewing of him last year when the episode was released, he's the embodiment of everything wrong with Helluva Boss with it's overused of sex jokes relating to male genitalia or dick jokes and sexual harassment, the guy was just only part of Crimson's Mafia and being both Moxxie and Millie's ex boyfriend. His only character was just being annoying, talks about how sexy he was, his dick, sexually harassing Moxxie and annoying Millie and we don't exactly know why they break up, and his music theme is annoying to listen to. It's even worse that he's Pansexual and just like the main male characters in the show where they nonstop talk about their genitalia like Blitz, I'm serious what's the purpose of his character anyway? He almost serves no purpose to the narrative unless it was just him marrying Moxxie so he can get into Crimson's wealth. I'll be completely honest I'm glad he died, I felt so frustrated to watch him, and unfortunately he had a cult fanbase dedicated to him and there are others like me who don't like him either. I feel like I'm questioning Viv's view on gay men is disturbing to be honest.

Lastly, I wanna talk about Moxxie, my dear poor bisexual Moxxie, he was the character who was the the victim of sexual harassment, the butt of jokes, being humiliated for being in a healthy relationship with Millie that is being set in Hell. I do feel bad for how he was treated by the narrative that involves around SA, the show constantly makes jokes about Moxxie being SA by Verosika and her crew including Chaz and Blitz,

Doesn't help the fact in which he was forced to marry Chaz when he's also forced to wear a Wedding Dress against his will and was being tied up and turned to a damsel in distress for Millie to saved him, I'll be completely honest, I have no issues with Moxxie being Bisexual, the issue comes from the fact that the female and male characters humiliate and SA him and was being forced to a feminine role against his will, it's one thing if a gay man wants to express freely his sexuality and I have no issue with that, men can express being gay and not be shamed for it. The issue was that Moxxie was being forced against his will and it was irritating to see him like that, the last time the show never humiliates him is when he licks Blitz Asmodeus crystal to help him to activate and go back to the human realm bec Blitz conveniently can't activate it himself. However this does not excuse how the past episodes treat him.

This is the post I will make for Helluva Boss bec I have to rest and I will make a second post about Hazbin Hotel when I have time since there's a lot of stuff to unpack in another post. Just a reminder, this post I made have no bad intentions towards Vivziepop and her staff, this is just me a Bisexual Woman who consumes BL who was also being critical of the genre that I'm consuming and giving my personal and honest thoughts of Viv's depiction of her Gay men in her shows. Just a reminder if you want to comment on my post that's fine but I do not accept bigotry and homophobia, bec I might as well block you, all I want is a personal discussion of the gay representations being represented in the show. Thank you and Goodnight.

Edit: I just found out that there is a minor retweeted my post while I do understand that they are also critical of the show however my account says Minors do Not Interact since my post also tackles adult themes that is not suitable for minors and also I personally disagree with their views on Lucifer but regardless, if a minor sees this post please do not interact. Bec I might as well block you, I don't think an adult like me should be discussing adult stuff in front of minors in online spaces.

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 8

A/N: *Dead Dove: Do Not Eat* I probably should have added that tag a while ago. I apologize for not having done so up until this point. Major tw: depictions/references of alcoholism, trauma, abuse, PTSD, panic attacks. This chapter is a mess. I'm so sorry. It's like I bet myself how much darker can I get with each chapter, lmao. Proceed with caution.

Rating: Explicit (due to the themes, really. No smut this chapter.) Word count: 6k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (DU, named) Warnings: 18+, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, implied alcohol abuse, trauma, past abuse, PTSD, depictions of physical abuse, unhealthy relationship Summary: Astarion readies himself for the ball, then heads to retrieve Tav. A tumultuous heart-to-heart ensues.

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‘She’s voicing doubts, my lord. How shall I proceed?’

He impatiently taps his nails against the wood of the dresser. With his other hand, Astarion brings a glass of wine to his lips. He’s chosen a mellow red for this evening; smooth going down with just the slightest bite at the back of the tongue.

‘Push forward and ignore them,’ he responds through the telepathic bond. ‘Continue getting her ready.’

There’s a brief pause before Magdalena’s response comes through.

‘As you wish, Lord Ancunín.’

Astarion severs the connection abruptly.

Taking a quick sip of wine, he places the glass on top of the dresser and sighs. Warmth blooms within his chest as crimson liquid travels down his esophagus. It's almost reminiscent of blood he's supped upon:

Her blood. The sweetest substance to have ever graced his poisoned tongue.

Astarion lifts the sleeves of his shirt and picks up a bottle of cologne on the dresser, uncorking its stopper. He tilts the bottle and dabs it gently on his left wrist. Placing the bottle back down on the bureau, Astarion rubs his wrists one over the other, spreading the scent evenly. It's his signature blend for over two centuries, the recipe little changed. He taps the mouth of the bottle lightly with the pads of his fingers, then brings them to the delicate skin behind his ears.

There's one thing that’s undeniable, even to him. He's nervous. Terribly, terribly nervous. He hasn't felt this out of control in months. Tav’s proximity is impacting him in ways he hadn't anticipated. It's intoxicating, suffocating. She's all he can think about.

How to keep her happy, wanting. To stay within her good graces.

She’s seen too much far too soon. Perhaps Astarion would have revealed everything to her in time, but certainly not at this point. Not when everything is still so fresh between them. And now that she's voicing doubts, he wants nothing more than to perform as much damage control as possible.

Her departure is simply not an option. Unless it's on agreeable terms.

Astarion is a horrid planner. It's a miracle he's stuck to this current one, though having to adjust his plan so early is distressing. It feels as though he's grasping at straws. Barely keeping his head above water. That isn't a place he enjoys being.

Tav will speak with Wyll tonight, and he's nervous. So terribly nervous of how Wyll will try souring his name. Slip a slow, creeping venom into Tav's mind, poisoning her thoughts. Astarion is nervous that all he's put into repairing the frayed bond he and Tav share will be undone by this single conversation.

He pulls down his sleeves and shrugs his shoulders, giving himself a look in the mirror. He's chosen a loose maroon dress shirt for the evening, a few buttons undone at the top and the hem tucked in. A pair of black dress slacks held fast by a black belt with a silver buckle, and brown leather shoes complete his ensemble. He draws a deep breath in, exhaling with a slight shake of his head.

It dawns on him that he isn't exactly sure what his end goal is. To charm Tav back into his arms, yes. But what else? Does he wish for more, or to keep this casual?

No.

The nonchalance of this affair stopped after the third night. 

When she held his face to hers–their foreheads pressed together as they shared the same air–Astarion knew. The shopkeeper below Tav's loft banged viciously on the ceiling, shouting muffled expletives through the floor. But Astarion was beyond caring. He sang as loud as Tav did, greedily drinking her moans as though the centuries-long hunger still consumed him.

This is very much a thing. A very real thing.

Feelings he'd hoped to have lost are involved, left over from before the ascension. He’s not happy to admit it, but it would be foolish to deny their existence.

The remnants of him. 

The sad, pitiful spawn. Groveling in the dirt, forced onto his back by the whim of another. How truly misguided his trust had been at the hour of his death. Astarion shakes his head free of the thought before it can warp further.

Yet, a sinking reality sets in.

That's who she wants, though… isn't it? 

The man he was? There's little chance Tav feels for him now. She may never again, not after all she's seen. 

This provokes another thought to come forward.

Did she ever want him beyond what his body could offer? He's almost sure of it, but most importantly…

Why does he care now?

There are times when he looks into her eyes that Astarion almost sees it. The classic look she gives only to him. The one that makes his knees falter and his heart race. The longing laced within her gaze. It makes him wish he could sequester her back to his chamber and have her sing his name, his praises, until the sun comes up.

Astarion would willingly be her protector. The fulfiller of all her wishes. He would make it abundantly clear how none of what he has could have been possible without her. How he wishes to share all of this with her. He will do anything, everything, to prove that to her.

Everything, aside from admitting one small thing. And as he gazes into the mirror, Astarion rolls his eyes and scoffs.

Love.

What a foolish concept.

He picks up a silver chain necklace from the bureau and fastens it around his neck. Rubies adorn the solid silver pendant of the necklace and Astarion adjusts it to hang between the open lapels of his shirt, against his bare chest. The metal is cool as it lays against his skin. It's only then that he realizes how flushed he is. 

How his heart jumps in his throat.

Astarion reaches for the glass of wine once more, stealing another sip. The sting on the back of his tongue soothes the ache. For now.

His dagger, Rhapsody, is the last item to prepare. Originally owned by a corrupt master, but taken as a spoil of war. It's dull now and essentially for show, but he cares not. Astarion stows a separate sharpened blade on his outer ankle at all times, hidden by the length of his trousers; a habit left over from his past life. He secures the dagger's holster around his left thigh, attaching it to his belt, then slips the blade within.

Tav will be on his right arm when they make their entrance. That's at least what he has planned.

Brushing a few stray hairs into place, Astarion gives himself a final look in the mirror. Satisfied, he chokes back the remainder of the wine he's been nursing all evening, slamming the glass down hard onto the dresser. 

A glimmer of light jumps in his periphery as his fist connects with the wood and Astarion looks. A golden ring with a turquoise gemstone sits within a clear case, nestled within a bed of velvet.

True Love’s Caress. 

The ring Tav gave to him, so long ago.

Astarion quickly opens the case, slipping the ring onto the fourth finger of his left hand, and heads out into the hall. As he walks down the long corridor toward Tav’s room, he nods absently at those he sees along the way.

His chest begins to burn, his mind growing clouded.

Why does he care if she stays? Does he really need her? Ultimately, no. But…

Astarion has unlimited wealth and resources. A plethora of lords and ladies would all but collapse at his feet for an opportunity to become his betrothed. Throw in the chance of eternal life, and that list is bound to grow exponentially.

He doesn't notice the speed in which he's barreling down the hall until he almost walks face first into a silver tray holding freshly cut fruit, carried by an unsuspecting servant. “M-my apologies, my lord!” the young woman gasps, clamoring for control over the tray as it sways in her hands.

Astarion doesn't recall ever seeing this one before. Magdalena is responsible for the staffing of the palace. Regardless, he raises a hand and gives the young woman a short bow in apology, continuing on his way.

His vision sways as the wine finally takes hold.

No, he doesn't necessarily need Tavaria. He’d go about his time just fine without her. But… would he enjoy it? Would he be satisfied?

Astarion stops dead in his tracks, clenching his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into the skin of his palms.

…Does he want for this?

No, he couldn't possibly. He's the vampire ascendant! The most powerful vampire lord to have ever lived. The waking dream of all his kind. He wants for nothing. Has no need of groveling in the dirt. The world is his playground, and he will take whatever it is he desires. It's what he's owed after two hundred years of shit.

Pure shit.

The gods turned their backs on him during his most desperate hour of need. They'll have little choice but to acknowledge him now.

No, Tav should be thanking him for being so generous as to give her a second chance. Another opportunity of having every decadence life has to offer handed to her. Wealth, power, pleasure. So much pleasure that she needn’t ask for it ever again. Astarion would see to that personally.

If she chooses wisely.

He straightens his posture and gives his head a quick shake, strengthening his resolve.

She will. One way or another, she will fall back into his arms.

Astarion knows she's afflicted with the same sickness he has. Tav’s heart gallops when he draws near. Her blood sings, her breath halts. He can almost hear the way her skin calls for the icy pierce of his fangs. Smell the desire that burns deep within her to be well and truly his.

She will succumb to his song. 

She will be his consort. 

They will spend eternity in each other's arms.

Though his resolve fades quickly as his feet finally bring him before Tav’s door. Nervous energy surges through him again. It fights for dominance against the sedating alcohol coursing through his body. And for a passing moment, he feels faint. 

Astarion clears his throat and rolls his shoulders, giving a quick surveillance of his surroundings. 

No one else is within this end of the manor. It’s only them.

With some trepidation, Astarion lifts a hand, placing three soft raps against the wooden door with the back of his knuckle, the ring around his finger catching his eye. 

And he waits.

His elven ears then pick up the faint sound of shuffling from behind the door. “Is that you, Magdalena?” comes Tav’s muffled voice.

“No, it's only me, darling,” Astarion replies with as much composure as he can muster. When he hears rustling within the bedroom, he quickly adds, “Take your time. There's no rush.” 

As he awaits for her to open the door, thoughts from earlier begin to resurface. 

Should she refuse his offer still, despite all he's done… What, then? What more is there to do? Not much, he feels. 

And at that point, when all other options have been exhausted…

Well… she’d be forcing his hand, then.

Wouldn't she?

The door suddenly opens, and the sight of her makes his breath grow cold within his chest. Tav is wearing the emerald dress he'd commissioned for her and the pair of golden shoes he'd sent. Her long, auburn hair cascades down her sun-freckled shoulders in loose, wavy ringlets. But what makes Astarion’s breath cease lay across her forehead.

Her soft, sweeping bangs have transported him back to the crash site of the Nautiloid, to when they first met. And every night thereafter, when she'd inevitably slink her way over to his tent to steal a word. Or several. 

How she'd style them differently day after day. Play with them if they were to broach an uncomfortable subject. The way she'd dip her head to hide behind them in an effort to play coy.

Astarion remembers how they'd cling to her sweat-soaked brow as she called his name over and over again from below him, rendering him completely and utterly helpless to resist her. How he'd brush them to the side to rest his head directly against hers. Placed gentle kisses to the top of her brow after they finished.

“Rather bold to cut your hair the night of an event, eh?” he remarks with a chuckle.

Tav shrugs in response. “Just felt like something I needed to do.” Her expression is flat as she steps out of the doorway, ushering him in.

As he steps into the bedroom, Astarion gives her a small smile, nervous energy peaking once more. He notices the tennis necklace he sent her clutched in her hand, and he winces. “Have you found everything to your liking?” he asks, curiously.

Tav shuts the bedroom door behind them, then walks to the vanity. Her back is to him as she says, “Oh, yes, everything is absolutely beautiful.” There's a small crack in her voice. 

Something is troubling her.

Astarion sighs, anticipating the turn the conversation is taking. “I get the feeling there's a ‘but’ coming, here,” he states exasperatedly.

Tav shakes her head, now turning toward him. “No, it's not that.” She looks at her hands, running the necklace between her fingers. “I… I wanted to talk candidly about what happened in the crypts.”

“I don't understand what more of a discussion could be had,” Astarion spits, defensively. He did what she asked. What more is there to say?

Her bottom lip trembles as she pulls it between her teeth. Tav places the bracelet down on the counter and draws in a deep breath. She then lifts her head to face him.

Astarion does not like where this is going.

“When I encouraged you to show those men mercy…” her voice trails off. She's seemingly lost in thought for moment before she continues, “...you killed them.” Tav shakes her head in disbelief, eyes blinking rapidly. “You killed them, Astarion.”

He furrows his brow in question. “Were you hoping for a different outcome?”

“No,” Tav says with another shake of her head. “No, I knew that's what you'd do.” Tav meets his eyes again with an intense gaze. “But I didn't quite understand why until after.”

…Oh. 

She caught that, did she? 

He shouldn't be so surprised. Tav always pieces together everything he doesn't wish to say. It's maddening, how he can never hide from her. Though, in a way… It's comforting. To have someone see him. 

The real him.

“Do you…” her voice fades again, but she takes a deep breath and pushes forward. “Do you still feel that way?” Tav asks, voice small. “About yourself?”

Astarion draws a large breath through his nose and crosses his arms over his chest. For a moment, he doesn't speak. His mind scrambles for the appropriate words, alongside a fitting delivery. 

Once he finds it, Astarion says, “Not anymore, no. That feeling died when Cazador did.” The name feels like a shard of ice through his chest as it tumbles forward, but it's a momentary pain that fades as quickly as it comes.

An awkward silence hangs like thick fog about the air. They're still looking at one another, and Astarion notices a glossy sheen to Tav’s eyes.

“...What replaced it?” Tav asks in a voice still barely above a whisper.

He knows what replaced that feeling, but it's not something she needs to know right now.

Bitterness.

Bitterness is what replaced the feeling of hopelessness Astarion carried for two centuries. All of his anger. Spite. Unrest, for the poor card life had given him for so many years. How he screamed, and screamed, and screamed for someone, anyone to hear him. To pull him from his waking nightmare.

No one ever did.

Until her.

Tavaria was the only one who extended a hand to him. The only one who found him worth saving. Who listened to him. Gave even a sliver of a shit to see him.

And it dawns on him then that she truly did care for him. Found more worth to him beyond what his body could give her.

But it terrifies him to know that she sees everything. Astarion will never be able to hide for long, if they're together. She knows him too well–understands things about him that he doesn't quite get himself. He will never have full control of their dynamic. She will always be a step ahead of him, and he'll be dashing behind her to catch up. 

It will be a nightmare for him.

But, gods… How his heart still aches for her. Longs for her to hold him within her embrace.

“I'm not quite sure, my dear,” is Astarion's crafted reply. He speaks with ease, shifting his weight to the opposite hip. “I tend not to dwell on it much, these days.”

It's a lie, but one small enough to hopefully get her off his back. And it seems to work, at least for now. Tav grows quiet, dropping her eyes to the floor. Her hands work quickly again, fingers rubbing over one another.

Gesturing to the necklace on the vanity with a wave of his hand, Astarion says, “May I help you with that?” He outstretches a hand in her direction–an invitation for her to place the tennis necklace within his palm.

Tav blinks up at him. With a nod, she picks up the necklace and hands it to Astarion. She turns around to face the mirror, clasping her hands together over her abdomen.

He unhooks the necklace and steps behind her swiftly. Astarion gently sweeps her hair free off her shoulder, Tav reaching up to hold it out of the way for him. As her hair lifts, the smell of lavender and pine wafts about the air: two of the scents he had crafted just for her. Reminiscent of their first night together in the clearing within the forest.

Astarion's arms come up above her head, falling feather-light to lay the jewelry across her chest. He steals a glance of them both in the mirror. Light from a candle reflects off the diamond studded earrings he's given her.

And then, it suddenly hits him.

He does want this. Yearns for more. There's a twist deep within his chest as he fastens the jewelry around the column of her throat, reaching up to move her hair back in place. The backs of his hands glide smoothly against her shoulders as he drops his hands. Astarion moves his face to the softness of her hair and plants a kiss, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. The scent of her overwhelms his senses. His head spins as he closes his eyes, finding solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“...Astarion...”

He opens his eyes and finds Tav’s face again within the mirror, full with worry. With one hand she plays with the necklace, twisting it between her fingertips. “...Did you ever love me?” she asks, voice quivering.

The sound of her heart pounds in his ears. The rush of her blood is a quartet cascading toward a triumphant crescendo. It's so quick it can almost be mistaken for two distinct heartbeats as he beats against his eardrums. Astarion's heart then pounds in tandem with hers, head growing light. Heat creeps under his skin and his vision narrows.

Love.

He positively loathes the word. The feeling. The sentiment.

It makes his skin crawl. Hands claw at his neck. A knife carving deep into his back. The room grows silent and then he's slipping, far back into the recesses of his mind.

‘I write this poem of love for you, my son. For all my children.’

A high pitched scream rings loudly against the stone walls of the kennels. Godey stands watch, bones rattling as he comes forward to reinforce the shackles around Astarion's arms and legs.

Rhapsody drags across his back, slicing into delicate porcelain skin. Astarion feels rivulets of cool liquid running down his back, and when the scent of iron reaches his nose, he realizes it's his blood pouring onto the mattress below.

Cazador raises the blood-soaked blade to his face, swiping his tongue against the flat edge. He groans in satisfaction as the crimson essence fills his mouth, then sets the dagger to work once more.

Astarion screams as his flesh parts again, a new rune being carved.

‘With this, we will forever be connected,’ Cazador explains. ‘You will always be mine.’

Astarion steps back, dragging a hand across his face. He feels the ever-present demon that sleeps within threatening to surface. An overwhelming sense of dread grips him tight. “...You know how I feel about that word,” he insists, hoping desperately that she'll drop this conversation before it's too late.

Tav meets his gaze through the mirror. Astarion watches the movement of her throat as she swallows. “But did you?” She then turns her whole body to meet him directly. “Did he?”

He. Him. The man he used to be. Not the man who stands before her, now.

Astarion's lips curl into a dangerous smile, a snicker rumbling through his chest. “There it is,” he remarks with sarcasm. He raises a hand and points a single finger into the air, wagging it back and forth. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to bring him up again.” He's beginning to feel more like himself again; further from tipping over the edge.

Tav’s expression sours and she shrugs her shoulders. “Can you blame me, Astarion? At least I knew where I stood with him.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “You feel akin to a stranger, now.”

Pain grips him as her words split wide through his chest, plunging him back down the path of what seems to be an inevitable crash. “I certainly am not, my dear, ” Astarion says. His voice is even despite the storm raging within. “I haven't been for quite some time.”

Then, he sees them: the tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. 

Shit, he curses to himself. This is not what he wants–not what he needs. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, please don't cry–

“Then why do you seem so different?” Tav squeaks, trying to stave off her sobs. “Why can I no longer feel the warmth of your heart?”

Then, they fall. Hard. And the walls he's fought so hard to keep up collapse inward.

…Fuck.

Astarion can hardly stomach the thought of having hurt her, let alone see physical proof. Her makeup is ruined. Mascara runs down her cheeks. Tears cut streaks through her foundation. Tav covers her face with her hands and briskly turns away, choosing to stand near the door leading out onto the balcony.

Each choked sob from Tav sends a jolt of electric shooting across his chest. “Tavaria…” Astarion whispers. He approaches gently from behind, maintaining distance. “Come now, darling; you know that's not true. I’m right here, as I've always been.”

Control. He must regain control of this situation.

She plants her palms flat against the glass door and she sucks in a gasp. Her head hangs down between her shoulders. “You're not,” Tav argues. “This is not the man I know.” Astarion observes as she shakes her head. Turning to him, she dabs her eyes with the back of her hand. “This is not the man I fell in love with. Who loved me.”

“Tav–”

“This is a man who fears love. Operates off of obsession. Who is jealous,” she remarks angrily, voice rising. “You give me the illusion of freedom, Astarion, but this is hardly freedom.” Tav raises a hand and sweeps it across the room. “You've given me nothing but a gilded cage to fly about in!”

The sharp edge of her tongue cuts deep once more. But this time, a sudden flare of rage rises within and he rushes forward. “Do you think I would do this for anyone else?” Astarion stands face to face with her, nostrils flaring with heavy breath. “Share all of this with a common fool off the street?!”

“Then say it!” Tav roars back, entire body shaking. Tears still fall from her eyes, but Astarion can tell they're more from frustration than pain. “Fucking hells, Astarion. Just fucking say it already!”

Drawing in a breath, Astarion blinks, stepping back slightly. He's suddenly warm. Very, very warm. But a chil thenl shoots up his spine.

He… does love her. Loves this. 

Wants to hold her forever in this room, suspended in this moment for the rest of eternity. She's beautiful–so godsdamned beautiful–as she stares at him, bewildered. 

But he can't touch her. Not more than he already has. Anything more is sacrilege, tainted. He'll ruin it. Ruin her. Ruin everything.

Though… this is what she's asking of him…

Right?

And truth be told, Astarion wants to delve deeper. He longs to dig through her chest and curl alongside her heart, forever. Tav made her home so long ago within his. 

He wants her to come home–come back to him.

Astarion swallows thickly as he asks, “...What do you think we are?” He's doing his best to keep his voice even, despite feeling like his heart is in his mouth. If this is his chance to win her back, he'll take it. He'll finally show her his heart.

“Gods, Astarion; I don't know,” Tav answers, flustered. She throws her hands up. “Lovers, perhaps?”

A sharp pain grips his chest accompanied by a head rush. Astarion becomes acutely aware of just how fast his heart is beating. “And what do you want us to be?” he asks in a hushed tone.

Tav holds his gaze for a moment, then drops her focus to the floor. “Astarion…” She rests a hand over the emerald fabric of the dress, rubbing circular patterns into her stomach. “I… Gods, this is pointless,” Tav states abruptly, dashing toward the washroom door.

But as Tav passes, Astarion reaches swiftly to clasp a hand around her upper arm. The grip isn't tight enough to leave an impression, though it prevents her from continuing forward. 

“What do you want us to be, Tavaria?” Astarion reiterates, sternly. “I'm not letting go without an answer.” 

The adrenaline is setting in and his vision begins to narrow. Sound slowly fades from his ears, replaced by thunderous clashes of his heart against his ribcage. Tav lifts her face to address him. Astarion meets her gaze and his breath runs cold.

“...I want him,” Tav confesses. Her green eyes are glossy with tears threatening to spill over again, and there's a flush to her entire face. “Gods, I miss us, Astarion.”

Finally, the dam gives way again, alongside the last shreds of his resolve.

Astarion laughs haughtily, throwing his head back with a howl. She sheds tears for the sniveling coward he once was, and none for the man who stands beside her.

How silly of him to think he could bare anything to her.

“Tch,” Astarion scoffs, releasing his hold on her arm, “Of course you'd prefer the version of me that had no choice but to lay on his back should his master command it.”

Tav narrows her gaze and takes a few steps away from Astarion, wiping her tears once more with the back of a hand. “I don’t want to control you, Astarion,” she sniffles. “What have I done that proves I mean you harm?”

He then laughs again.

Enraged, Astarion surges forward. “Oh, my dear, you're guilty of the ultimate betrayal!” he chides. “You left me,” The words are gruff as they fall from his mouth, spoken through clenched teeth. He watches as Tav recoils further from him. 

“You wanted to kill me,” argues Tav with a tilt of her head. “We’ve already had his discussion, Astarion.”

Astarion scowls. “No, darling. I told you I only wished to deliver you unto undeath.” The storm begins to quell and he reaches out, holding her hands within his own. “And as I've stated before, I was only trying to give you what you wanted,” he says, voice dropping an octave.

‘Isn’t that what you want?’ Astarion recalls telling her. ‘To be mine? Forever?’

Turning her is the only way he can guarantee that they’ll be together forever. Make good on his promise to protect her. That he’ll never have to suffer the crushing loss of her.

Astarion's breath comes in quick, short pants as they exchange heated glances between the silence stretched before them.

Tav shakes her head, pulling her hands free from his grasp. “He would have never asked me to do that,” she infers. 

A heavy weight sits on Astarion’s chest and he sighs in disappointment. “You're wrong.”

He would have.

Then, and now still, he would. The moment he realized his skin smelled of her soaps more often than not is when this hunger took root. But he was too weak. Too fearful of what his attachment meant for her. 

She became all Astarion thought about: how his proximity to her made her a target, should Cazador come for him. How useless he would be without the tadpole if attacked in broad daylight. Her smile, her hair, the feeling of her pulse thrumming under his tongue while seated in his lap. He remembers how his chest ached when considering a path without her, as if his heart still beat.

Keeping her close to him, forever, is all he's ever longed for…

“He just lacked the ability to do so,” Astarion explains. “Lucky for us, he's no longer here.”

“He loved me,” Tav blurts out. “And that's more than I can say of you now.”

…but she still doesn't see it.

“Are you even capable of that now?” she asks in a contemptuous tone. “Or is this all I’ll ever get?”

“You are worth so much,” sneers Astarion. His face hovers above hers as he searches her eyes. “You’ve no idea.”

“Then tell me, Astarion.” Tav moves forward; Astarion instinctively backs away. “Tell me how much I mean to you.” His back hits the bedroom door and she pauses, leaving barely an inch of space between them. “Tell me how much you love me, Astarion. Please,” she pleads, voice breaking.

Astarion's chest heaves, and the demon creeps forward. The word is tainted, so heavily defiled. It's a strong poison that Astarion will never be able to suck out. It will leech into every part of what they have and slowly, surely, kill everything.

“I… I–” he stammers. Astarion wants to say it. It's right on the tip of his tongue, but it catches in his throat. His mind is loud, thoughts racing so quickly he can barely keep up with what they're saying. She's staring at him expectantly, and he has nothing to deliver.

He feels lost, as though his body is no longer his own. The scars on his back sting like they're freshly carved. There are shackles around his ankles and a hand around his neck. 

He's back in the kennels, oh gods he's back in the kennels, Godey maniacal laughter rings in his ears, he's trapped, he's trapped, he's trapped–

‘I do this out of love…’

Astarion can't breathe. 

He's being flayed, he's being impaled. He feels his control slipping as his thoughts become louder, shouting at him full-forced. The demon creeps forward and he can see its face. Astarion feels himself beginning to slip away. 

He can't say it. She can never know. But he has to fix this. He can fix this. How can he fix this?

…Oh.

Then suddenly, it comes to him: the urge to fuck it into her instead. 

Pick her up and whisk her onto the bed, because that's the language he knows. A language he trusts. He can thrust, and thrust and thrust until she cries his name, his praises into the night. 

Yes, everything would be better if he did just that.

He can show her how he feels. He won't have to say it. He can still stay safe, she'll never have to know. She doesn't need to know. He could just fuck her, over and over, as long as she wants. Forever, and ever, and ever–

But not right now. 

Later. 

Later he'll give himself to her, after he's had more to drink. That always makes this easier.

“The party is about to begin,” he manages to say. Astarion reaches behind himself to find the handle of the door. He clears his throat, then says, “We really should get going.”

Tav blinks, her expression falling flat. “Alright,” she says, soberly. She gazes a moment too long at him before eventually moving away to the mirror, taking a quick glance at herself. She wipes a finger under each eye, ridding herself of the smeared mascara. “Give me a few moments and I'll be right out.”

There's a soft tremor in her voice and Astarion knows she's unhappy with him, but at this moment, all he cares about is avoiding this topic. They will eventually have this discussion again–he knows it’s inevitable. Yet for now, he can breathe again.

Astarion nods, giving a quick dip of his head in acknowledgement toward Tav. He twists the handle of the bedroom door just as she enters the washroom and steps outside, the door closing behind him with a soft ‘click.’ 

A muffled sob can then be heard from the opposite end of the door, and a pang of guilt grips his chest. 

Tavaria is crying. Again. All because he couldn't say three bloody words to her.

Astarion raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He's said them before in jest��way before she meant anything significant to him. It isn't like he's incapable… nor would he be lying, should he say them again. 

His head throbs behind his eyes–the drink from before beginning to fade–and he digs his fingers harder into his skin.

Even if he is upset over it, Astarion knows why she left him. He doesn't even truly disagree with it, because had he been told the reality of what being a vampire spawn was like, he may have just chosen actual death itself. But he would never subject her to even a fraction of what he endured. He would make the experience so pleasant for her, so very enjoyable.

And she's here now, isn't she? She hasn't run yet, despite all she's seen. Has invited him into her bed countless times over these last few months. She's never told him to leave.

Right now, Astarion hates himself. Hates the chokehold just thinking about love has over him. She deserves to be told how he feels. To hear him say it. She isn't Cazador. No, she's quite the opposite of him, actually.

The opening of the bedroom door pulls Astarion from his thoughts, and he steps away from the doorway. Tav appears as the door swings fully open, her makeup redone and her eyes somewhat puffy, but she puts on her best smile and she steps through the threshold.

Astarion's chest aches as he looks at her face. It's all for show, and he knows it. Returning her smile, Astarion then holds a folded arm out toward Tav. She graciously accepts his offering by slipping her arm within his, and they head toward the ballroom.

They look every bit like the perfect couple as they walk through the hall, but his chest feels hollow. They reach the top of the stairs and Astarion steps down first, offering his hand to Tav. He sees the trepidation in her eyes, but eventually she smiles and accepts his offer.

And when her hand slots perfectly into his, light gleaming off the turquoise gemstone of True Love’s Caress, the knife twists so deeply within his chest that it knocks the air clean from his lungs.

He truly is a godsdamned fool.

[trynafindbarbiee]

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH NOW

I didn't thought I would do it, because it's only gonna waste my time and energy but y'all are getting out of your boundaries now.

None of this matters to me at all. I'm not obligated to prove myself; it's ultimately futile in my opinion. Although I've proven myself two or maybe three times already, I'm living my life peacefully, so why should these miserable people matter to me? I won't even remember after a while nor your pathetic opinions about me 💀!!

No matter what I say, there will always be doubters, and there will always be those who believe. It's not my job to convince people of my experiences or beliefs, and I don't have to prove myself to anyone. I'm living my life peacefully, and I don't need external validation from anyone. I'm grateful for my experiences, and I don't need anyone else's approval to know they're real.

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

Why are you charging money when u have manifested trillions of dollars in the void :

I could manifest endless money into the void, but that's not the case. Even after entering the void, we still have jobs, we eat, we sleep, we live normal lives like ordinary people. There's a renowned blogger on Tumblr (I won't name her) who has also entered the void yet continues to work. Helping people through my abilities is my choice and I like it and so I seek compensation for it.

Even after entering the void and manifesting various things, you will still desire activities that bring you joy. You will starting to want to live a normal life. Eventually, you will become accustomed to manifesting everything instantly from the void, and it will cease to excite you.

If I really wanted to scam, I could have charged $500 or so, but I didnt, and still being called out as a "scammer"? $12 ain't gonna make me rich.

While there have been scammers within the community, it does not follow that every person offering a paid (and reasonably priced) service is a scammer.

You can't manifest for others :

How dumb of you all to say this.

"everything is possible"

Proceeds with "you can't manifest for others, stop lying"

Ultimately, it boils down to one's assumptions. If you believe it's a scam and that it won't work for you, then that will likely be the outcome. Is that not so? Now, do I gotta explain all the fundamentals to you all?

IT IS POSSIBLE TO MANIFEST FOR OTHERS (speaking from my own experience), and if you think otherwise, you simply have a limited mindset.

"It will only happen in your reality, not theirs." Not everyone believes in the existence of infinite realities, and it's okay to have different beliefs. However, if you do believe they exist, then this is what the truth would be, FOR YOU.

You are a male/boy, because your payment account is having a name of a boy :

I'm astounded by the sheer ignorance and absurdity in some individuals questioning someone's gender based on the name on the name of the payment account.

Are you all seriously assuming I'm male just because the account name is masculine? Common sense seems to be lacking here. I'm using my cousin's account. Is there a problem with that? I am merely utilizing my cousin's account. Please refrain from making such baseless assumptions.

She shows you her writings as proof and the photo she says as proof is her necklace and phone photo :

If you choose not to believe them, then so be it. What do you want me to do? To me, they are sufficient as "proof." If they are not for you, then fine, I won't put myself in a situation where my privacy would be breached just for the sake of "PROVING" to you that I really entered the void.

First, you all desperately demand proof, but when someone provides it, you claim it's fake. Nevermind, be stuck in this cycle:)

Why on earth do people persist with these baseless assumptions and relentless demands for validation? It's utterly draining and disheartening. If my evidence isn't enough, there's absolutely nothing I can do. What else do they expect? It's not my responsibility to prove my authenticity to anyone.

Read this ask

Reading that you should have realised that nothing can ever be enough for you all as proof.

And if you don't believe in those then why are you even in this community? What is making you believe those writings of others saying, you can have your dream life in a day, are true?

"trynafindbarbiee you don't have to deal with these manifest things, you can enter the void instantly anyway, why don't you live your life instead of wasting your time here?". - shouldn't it apply to all bloggers now? 💀

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

Anyone who's charging for their services isn't a scammer always. Accusations of such reflect a limited mindset. It is indeed possible to manifest for others, and some individuals in this community have successfully done so.

The community has become more cautious about distinguishing fraudulent offers from authentic ones. I find it absolutely hilarious that you all label such offers as a scam, as if $12 could somehow make a person rich overnight. It's honestly quite amusing!

Now, one bad comment about me = BLOCKED !! I don't have time to waste on limited minded peoples, who not knowing a thing about me, proceeds to call me a scammer.

So, now, stop with your pointless assumption about me. And do better + get a life <3

And THANKYOU to everyone who are still with me and refusing to believe the nonsense going about me on here. I may not reply to your postive asks but know that I love you all !! 🤝🏻💞

[zeltqz]

MIND GAMES | ran haitani

length. 5.9k words

synopsis. final part - you finally lose your V to ran hehe

authors note: so i finally got over my nervousness and wrote the fluffiest smuttiest shit i ever oh my god my fingers just dont stop typing when it comes to this man ANYWAY ENJOYYYYYYYYY @sleeplessreader @nimbixan @christmassugarcookies @ransbaby@scarletbedlam @ranhaitaninumberonefans @wenumsmol @jordanisgae

Ran sets his controller down on his lap when you text him; not even wasting a second before unlocking his phone, lightspeed. Rindou rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head they almost get stuck, clearly agigated when Ran just tosses out his attention span the second he gets a text from you.

‘ Whipped ’ is what Rindou likes calling it, noticing how his brother would rather drop everything he’s doing, even going as far to cancel all his plans if the opportunity arises to talk to you.

“So you’re really just going to leave me to fight a 2v1 by myself?” Rindou’s question goes unanswered and he groans watching his character’s health bar deplete by the second. “Dude?!”

Hey, what are you doing? 

Ran clicks on your messages, totally unaware of the uninvited smile creeping onto his face as he types back.

Just playing some games with my brother. Why?

His tongue pokes out to his cheek as he sees the three dots popping up and down rhythmically as you form a response. 

“Ran, if I lose this battle, I will never forgive you.” 

“Shut up, you’ll be fine.” Blindly, his spare hand aimlessly searches around his lap for the controller to shut his brother up when his phone vibrates on his lap once more.

No no reason, I just wanted to talk to you, but you are busy so I’ll call you later

The little hope Rindou has left when he sees Ran’s character take a step forward, ready to aid him through fighting the monster is gone the second Ran’s attention and wandering hands go back to his phone.

“Are you kidding me?!” Rindou’s character falls, evaporating into thin air and his eye twitches. “Fuck off, I’ll go call Kakucho or something, you useless piece of—”

His rant lands on deaf ears as Ran continues to ignore him, kicking his feet onto the couch, eyes glued onto that phone like it’s his lifeline.

I’m not busy, c’mon, talk to me . Everything ok/?

His long hair rests on his shoulders, his slender fingers playing with the ends of it as he anxiously waits your response.

Everythings fine, promise. Just wanted to talk to u 

Stop being so cute its killing me honestly.

Shut up..

He loves the way he can hear your voice through the message, the playful tint in your phone as you’d push him away whilst trying to hide your flustered face from his gaze. 

It’s become his new favourite hobby, to tease you till you can barely look at him. 

We’re still on for tomorrow right? He asks and distantly, he hears Rindou talking shit about him to Kakucho from the corner of the kitchen, then proceeds to invite him over to help him finish the damn game.

“I’m right here, y’know?” Ran calls out, leaning his head back far around over the couch to look into the kitchen, snickering when Rindou puts up his middle finger and continues to cuss him out over the phone whilst looking into the fridge.

Yeah, tomorrow is fine. 

You respond back with a heart emoji at the end that makes his own heart beat twice as fast. He’s not sure why you have such an effect on him; how you managed to invade his thoughts at any moment throughout the day, how he would jump over any object just to grab his phone if it was at the far end of the room when it dings, the disappointed look on his face when he realises the text wasn’t from you.

On a scale of 1-10, how angry would you be with me if I came over right now?

He decides to test the waters and asks. If your answer is anything higher than a 7, he’ll stay at home and wait till tomorrow, but anything less than that; he’s hopping on his motorcycle and risking it all just to see you.

8. Stay ur ass at home ran my dad is here for the week

Fuck’s sake.

He frowns, untwisting his finger from his hair and sighs.

Bruh cant he fuck off and stay in his own house? So unfair.

There’s a short gap between your replies, and he uses it to head over to the kitchen, towering over his younger brother, placing the flat of his palm against the top of his head and drags him away from the fridge with zero effort.

“Ran, get off me !” Rindou struggles to escape his brother’s grip, practically fighting for his life as Ran’s lazy eyes scan over the contents in the fridge. 

He’s too tired right now to cook actual food and there’s no leftovers for him to reheat. 

“Ran, I’ll kick you.” Rindou threatens when he finally rids himself from Ran’s clutches. “You’re extra annoying today.” He grits out, dusting his clothes, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as if he didn’t just get manhandled in his own house.

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” Ran closes the fridge with a sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“Take it as you want, I don’t care.”

Ran rolls his eyes when his phone chimes twice and he doesn’t have to look at it to know who it is. Rindou clicks his tongue, grabbing his flask and downing it with ease. He needs the alcohol to get him through the day, especially when Ran is like this.

It’s an image attachment rather than a message and he opens it; immediately knowing why it took you longer to respond than usual.

You grace him with a perfect angle of your hands splayed over your bare chest, your nipples playing hide and seek behind your fingers. From the looks of it, your back looks arched slightly from the curve of your waist and at the very top of the photo, your bottom lip is being bit down onto subtly with your teeth. His eyes trail down to your stomach, captivated by the way your shorts ride up your thigh—

He needs to get his hands on you. Fuck waiting.

Rindou looks over his brother’s shoulder, eyes blowing wide and jaw dropping to the floor as he gasps an “Oh my God—”

Ran shuts his phone off and fights the urge to punch his brother into next week, hoping the hit is hard enough to give him memory loss. 

“Is that the girl you’re talking to? Shit, what’s her name?” He takes another sip of his drink when Ran brushes past him to grab his shoes. “Oi, don’t ignore me!”

“Just shut up, I gotta go.” 

You fiddle with the tips of your nails anxiously, fidgeting on your bed, physically unable to stay still as you allow your thoughts to take control. Does he not like it? Is it too much? Is that why he hasn’t responded? Did I cross a line? Sending it without permission? Did he block me?

The last one seemed to have worked in heightening your anxiety, fingers now moving to delete the image and pretend you had never sent it; though you know he saw it because the words READ staring at you like a slap in the face.

You almost jump out of your skin when your phone vibrates from underneath your body five minutes later, hidden deep within your sheets as you fish for it. 

Come outside.

It’s a simple message, yet still has your brain muddled. Once connecting the dots, your face flushes, mouth parting slightly and dart your eyes to your keyboard.

Don’t tell me youre outside…. 

You walk over to your window and slam a  hand down on your windowsill to stabilize yourself as you look outside, spotting Ran’s motorcycle at the end of the street. 

You’ve gotta be kidding me, you think, pulling your phone out and dialing his number you shamelessly admit you know by heart.

He doesn’t even let it ring for two beeps before he’s answering, repeating his text message out loud as he says, “Come outside.”

You always forget how deep his voice is, how it has that subtly provocative undertone with a bite of playfulness when he’s in the mood. “Ran—I can’t, you know this—” The deep rumble of your dads laughter fills the house; he’s always so loud, as if he knows you’re planning to sneak out and is laughing extra loud downstairs to remind you he’s home. “My dad will ask questions.”

“Well, you shoulda thought ‘bout that before you sent me that, shouldn’t you?”

You groan, fingers scrunching up a lone piece of paper on your windowsill as you eye his motorcycle again, eyes flitting across the room to your jacket resting your desk chair. “Fine…” You grumble, keeping him on the line as you slip out of your shorts and into some jeans, grabbing your coat on the way out.

You intended to sneak out successfully, making as little noise as possible when you walk past the hallway behind the living room but the door let you down, creaking open way too loudly and your dad snapped his head towards the door. 

“You going somewhere?”

“No—yeah, I mean I wanted to get something from the store, real quick. I’m craving a snack.”

You put on your best innocent smile, ensuring your face is sweet and forgiving despite the fact you’re leaving to go get fucked by your boyfriend (?). 

“Oh!” Your mother chirps from the kitchen, “can you buy some more strawberries for me? I need some for my lunch tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure whatever. I’ll see you guys in a bit.” You slam the door shut before they even got to say goodbye, hands shaking on the knob of your door as you take a deep breath and make your way over to the end of the street.

He’s distracted on his phone when you sneak up to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Hi.”

He can feel you shaking when he slides his hands down your arm, tugging you to sit in front of him on his bike. “Hey, you cold? You’re shaking like a lot.”

“No, I’m just…nervous.” You admit sheepishly, unable to look him in the face. He lifts your face up with a finger on your chin, pressing a reassuring kiss to your nose that has you smiling up at him.

“Don’t be nervous.”

“It hurts though…”

He leans forward, turning off his motorcycle engine and lights, now leaving the street in total darkness aside from the streetlamps. “We can take it slow, if you want.”

“No, not that. I wanna do it today, that’s why I sent you the…yeah.”

He shifts your body closer and you part your legs on either side of the bike for stability, hand gripping onto his shirt for better balance. “That photo was fuckin’ sexy.” You stiffen, blood turning cold as his hands wander along your spine, holding you close to him as his lips mark up the exposed skin of your collarbone. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, you have no clue what you do t’me.” He sucks down, humming lowly when your fingers loop around his chain and tug ever so gently to grab his attention.

“What do I do to you?”

It’s a genuine question, though you have a brief idea, you want to know if you affect him the same way he affects you; how his shirt rides up when he stretches, teasing you with just an inch of his faint v-line or hearing his voice in the mornings when you call him is enough to leave a wet stain in your panties.

His hands slither down your spine and you chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment when you feel it. 

It being something hard inside his pants pressing against your upper thigh. “Oh.”

He doesn’t answer, too interested in grabbing onto your breast, groping it slightly and loses himself in the faint perfume scent lingering on the skin of your neck.

“Ran, not here.” You giggle when he kisses his way up to your ear, puffs of air from his nose tickling against your eardrum. “Not here, please.” It’s a miracle there’s no passerbys this late at night, just imagining the look on strangers faces as they watch Ran feel you up on his bike is enough to have you fidgeting from slight embarrassment; yet you shove down the idea of being caught fucking in public somewhere deep inside.

He smells so good, the scent amplifies ten-fold when you shift back on the bike, dipping your face in the crevice of his neck, nose touching the neckline of his crew-neck black t-shirt.

“You’re in a cuddly mood today,” He says amused, slightly nervous, slight shivers running down his body when he comprehends how close you are. He tilts his head to the side, brushing his cheek against the side of your head and golds you steady, fingers digging into your waist. “How long we got?”

“Hm,” your lips vibrate against his neck as you hum slowly, head deep in calculations, “not that long if I’m being honest, but I can risk sacrificing an hour or two.”

“Yeah? What about the strawberries for your ma’?” 

His eyes squeeze shut when you attach your lips to his neck, slowly grinding your hips down against his lap, the slow roll gives your clit the friction it craves.

“She can live without them,” you whisper, hushed in spite of yourself as he lifts you off his bike easily and you maneovuer yourself to sit behind him, locking your arms around his midriff, digging your face into the back of his neck. 

The ride back to his house doesn’t take long and he doesn’t even bother locking his bike , preferring to lace his fingers between yours gently before he’s leading you inside.

The sounds of battle music blasts from the living room and a quick peek confirms that his brother is playing Street Fighter 2 with another guy that you haven’t met before. 

Ran places his hand around your waist, snatching your attention away from his brother and back to him. “Everything okay?” You nod up at him, fixing him with your best fake smile but he sees through it easily. “Nah, you’re not.”

You sigh, hating how perceptive he can be at times. “I thought we’d be alone…”

“We are, they’re deaf as hell, they won’t be able to hear anything.” When you don’t look convinced enough, he calls out his brother's name loudly, but he’s either ignoring him, or he can’t hear him as he talks to Kakucho, nudging him whenever he moves his character the wrong way. “See, trust me.” He squeezes your hand twice, reassuring you and you nod your head and let him lead you upstairs.

You take a seat on his bed when the reality of the situation hits you. 

You’re really about to lose your virginity.

The bed dips when he moves to sit next to you and your hands twitch nervously on your lap, biting the softness of your cheek to calm you down when he places his hand on your thigh.

“You’re shaking again.”

“I—” You bite your tongue, and swallow thickly, hoping your nervousness goes down with it. “I know I’m ready, I just…I’m just scared.”

You watch the slow rise of his brows. “I’ll go extra slow, just for you, ‘kay?” He tips forward to kiss you again, proving his previous sentence with his extra slow movements. Your shaky hand falls to the side of his face, holding him close to you as he shifts you to lay on his pillow, hovering over you.

He breaks the kiss, bending down to peck at your ear. Your giggle is almost music to his ears and your legs kick around as you mutter “It’s ticklish.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” He sucks on your lobe harder, one hand moving downwards to wrap your legs around his waist to stop you from kicking him.

“I don’t like my ears.” You tell him, gently trying to push him away, pawing at his chest, laughing when his breath tickles your eardrum once more, “Ran!”

“You’re so beautiful though,” he pulls away, forehead to yours as he looks down at you, “best looking ears I’ve ever seen.”

“You clearly haven’t seen much ears then.” He deadpans at you and you roll your eyes, retracting your statement, “‘kay, I’m sorry.” You close your eyes when he bends down to kiss your nose, cheek, covering your face with kisses as he mumbles how perfect you are after each kiss. 

Your hands cup his face, thumbs stroking at his cheekbones as you hold his face up, enticing him into a trance with your kisses, back arching off the bed involuntarily with each groan that spills from his mouth.

“I’m gonna undress you now, alright?” He says between kisses and you suck in a harsh breath through clenched teeth before nodding, too nervous to provide a verbal response. 

He sits back on his knees and gently tug on your shirt, lifting your arms up to slide the shirt over your head and onto the edge of his bed. You sit up slightly, unfastening the straps on your bra and letting it fall, watching how his eyes stay glued to your chest as if he’s never seen a pair of breasts before. 

“...Ran, you’re staring.” You say, pointing out the obvious, thinking he would look away by now but you have to grip onto his face, and force his gaze up, “My eyes are up here.”

“I know where they are.” 

If he could kiss every part of your body he would. He looks down at you underneath him, eyes glistening with want and habitually, you tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, hands rising to wrap around his neck, craving his lips once more.

With confidence, Ran’s tongue slips into your mouth, slidinig passionately along your own. It’s almost embarrassing how pliant he makes you, how you're lifting your back from the bed slightly to press your chest against his own.

He grins at the soft moans you let out with each kiss, drinking up each mewl that leaves you when your hands wander downwards, slipping under his shirt, dipping your fingers along the crevices of his abs. 

“Take—” You take breaks between kisses to tug hopelessly at his shirt, “I want this off.”

“Someone’s bossy today.” You watch up in reverence as his shirt lifts off his body, tongue poking out to lick your bottom lip. It’s probably swollen by now, how hard you’ve been biting it but you don’t care, not when he hovers above you with his bare arms beside your head.

Your mouth is dry when he leans down to kiss you again, but keeps it short this time, breaking the kiss before you could even melt into the pleasure. 

His fingers dance their way along your thighs, making their way to the zipper of your jeans. His head drops down to look before it’s being lifted by your hands holding his face, “Don’t look…”

“I’m gonna see it regardless, y’know that right?”

Yeah, you know that; but you still feel embarrassed being fully naked and vulnerable in front of someone else for the first time. “I know…”

His fingers test the waters once more, fingernail scraping against the zipper until your legs are complying, spreading ever so slightly, just enough for him to wrap them around his waist as he unzips your jeans, hooking a finger onto your panties to tug them all off at once.

Cold air hits your bare cunt and you almost shiver when he bends down to your stomach, kissing on your skin around your bellybutton, slowly making his way down to your pelvis.

It feels extra sensitive there, butterflies frollocking around your stomach as he practically makes out with your skin. It’s wet when his tongue slides out, licking a stripe from your pelvis to your thighs, squishing them with his fingers as he marks you. He wasn’t lying when he said he would take it slow—now you’re actually regretting his slow pace, wanting to be touched down there.

“Ran—” Your voice trails off into a gasp when he bites down on your thigh, hard enough to probably leave teeth marks. “C’mon…please.” You whisper, covering your eyes with your hands, too flustered to look at him between your legs.

You can’t help but squeal when his nose brushes your clit ever so gently, his wet tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking lightly.

“Oh—oh my god—” He smiles between your legs, eyes closing when he hears your moan, your legs enclosing around his head as you slap a hand over your mouth, biting at your palm when he flicks your clit with his tongue swiftly, physically unable to control your squirming.. “Ran, mm, oh fuck, fuck, yes!” 

“Yeah?” He dives back in, drowning in your slick as his fingers tickle your entrance, “Gonna put my fingers in now, ‘kay?” He takes your soft ‘mmhm, mhm’ as a sign to continue. He pushes in slowly, fighting back your body’s reaction as  he inches his finger in deeper. You almost kick him in the back when you feel it, slow, lazy yet calculated strokes with his index finger.

The pleasure is almost too much, biting your lip, throwing your head back to sink into the softness of his pillows. Your pussy clamps desperately around his long, slender finger. Ran groans, detaching his mouth from your slit, “Fuck, why are you so hot? It’s—” He twists his finger inside you, stretching your soft walls out and gives your clit another suck, “It’s fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Your body feels like jelly from just a single finger, the continuous strokes of his tongue against your clit have stars forming behind the abyss in your mind, eyes squeezed shut as you feel another finger at your entrance. “Don’t stop—fuck—please, don’t st— mm—” 

You’re babbling incoherent sentences, limbs practically numb as you try to squirm away from the overstimulation, insides feeling like they’re being electrecuted. “Wait, I—I think I’m—” 

You’ve never came before so the feeling was unusual to you. The warmth pooling around some unknown area in your stomach had you practically suffocating the man beneath your legs as he loudly licks up at the slick from your cunt as he finger fucks you into heaven.

“Clenching around me so tight, you’re close, aren’t you?”

“I think—” You swallow hard, cursing under your breath when he presses against that spot. He knows he’s hit it because the blood flow from his finger temporarily disconnets with how tight your walls clamp around it, moaning louder than he’s ever heard you before and your hand flys to the headboard to stabalise yourself as you come undone on his hands. You felt liquids squirt from your body, breaking out of the spell he put you under the moment you felt it—scared that you might’ve…

“A squirter, huh?” He says from between your legs, goosebumps forming on your forearms when he drags his tongue over your cunt one last time as a way of cleaning you up. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

“It’s not normal? Oh god…” You hide your face in your hands as he laughs, moving to sit on his knees and pulls you closer by your ankles, trying to remove your hands from your face but they’re practically glued on.

“Stop hiding from me, it was hot.”

“I thought I…” You lower your voice, too embarrassed to even finish the sentence, “I thought I peed.” He snorts and you hit him across the chest, “It’s not funny!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute.”

Your cheeks heat up when he kisses you again. The taste of the kiss was slightly bitter and you instantly knew that was because of you. 

“You ready?” His voice is breathless as he parts away from your lips, wiping his lower face and mouth with his arm.

“Yeah.” 

He reaches forward, fluffing the pillows to get you as comfy as can be and you smile up at him, watching hypnotised as he tugs his pants down. You now understand his infatuation with your breasts because you’re lost in the sight of his cock, watching witth a dry mouth as his cock bobs free from its restraints.

There’s something white leaking from the tip that you’re sure is cum and you bite your lip when you see him squeezing tight at the base of his cock, dragging a lazy hand up to the top, groaning as he positions himself between your legs.

You blindly reach out of it, almost knocking the wind out from his lungs when you grab it, smaller fingers failing to wrap around his own. “Hey, what are you—” His words get lost when you bend down and ready to stick your tongue out before he stops you, “What are you doing?”

“I wanna taste it.” You say it like it's obvious, darting your eyes down to the leaking precum seeping out from the tip bit by bit, but he stops you, lifting you from your bent position with a single hand on your bicep. 

It’s weirdly attractive how he can just lift you with no effort, manhandle you to the way he wants and before you know it you’re back on the bed, head resting on his floofed up pillows and he’s hovering over you.

He reaches inside his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and rolls it onto his cock as he says “As much as I’d love to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, babe, it’s not abouot me tonight.” His eyes trail down your body, nudging his cock against your cunt, the tip brushing agaisnt your clit in slow circles and you close your eyes to steady yourself.

Once ready, you nod at him and he bites his lip, eyes never leaving your body as he slowly presses into you. Your hands fly up to his arms, digging your nails into his skin and try your hardest to stifle your moan. 

There’s a stinging pressure the second his cockhead enters, your body fighting to accept him in and you start to panic. “Wait—” you tap at his arm rapidly, “I don’t think it’s gonna fit—I—”

“Shhh,” he bends down to kiss you, sucking on your bottom lip to comfort you, “listen to me.” You force your eyes open to look into his own honest ones, “You’re so tense, it’s gonna hurt but it’ll be quicker if you relax, ‘kay?”

“Okay…” You eyes flutter shut when you feel him press inside again, the head of his cock is fully engulfed and you feel the burn between your thighs as your walls stretch to accommodate his length, “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, it burns Ran—”

“I know, I know, almost there, promise.”

The rest of his cock slips inside almost easily and he lets out a gutted moan when he bottoms out, his hips pressing against yours and he has to physically stop himself from fucking you into the sheets, waiting for you to stop squirming underneath him. 

“Is it in?” You whisper and he lifts a hand up, thumb swiping at the tears forming under your eyeline.

“It’s in.” You exhale sharply, un-squeezing your hands from his arms to wrap around his neck. “Tell me when to move, I’ll move.” He says against your neck, pressing soft kisses to soothe you, biting down when you clench around him involuntariily.

It feels weird, like you’re being stuffed full—but you don’t see the pleasure in this yet; it’s more uncomfortable than pleasurable. Maybe your body isn’t wired the same way other girls are because they make it out to be something amazing and have them screaming out in pleasure, but you just feel like screaming out in pain.

“Y-you can move, now.” You say after a moment, watching as his jaw clenches when he drags his cock out, leaving just the tip in before pushing back in gently. Ran makes sure to use as little force as possible, not wanting to overstim you so quickly. There’s warmth pooling in the depths of your stomach, the pain slowly turning into pleasure as he keeps up his slow pace, feeling lightheaded from how your pussy catches around his cock so tightly. 

He briefly thinks he should’ve prepped you more, scared that it was too painful for you. One look down proves his theory wrong and he almost cums right there and then, stilling his hips at the sight of you all spread out for him, eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head as you bite down on your lip, trying to stifle the bubbling moans.

“Faster?” He pants out, hoping and praying that you say yes because he needs to feel you, all of you, wants to hear you scream out his name. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice is hushed and quiet, gradually getting louder when he pulls out once more but slams inside you, hard enough that you’re sliding up the bed, head almost hitting the headboard as he begins his relentless pace.

He can’t hold himself back anymore, fingers digging into his pillowcase as he slams inside you. Your hand flys to your mouth when you’re about to moan, remembering he has guests downstairs but his hands grip onto your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

“Let me hear you, fuck please—” He sounds breathless, using one hand to keep your wrists above your head, the other trailing downwards to your thighs, spreading your legs further so he could fit himself inside you better.

“Ran, ohmygod, yes, yes, don’t stop, fuck !” You attempt to scratch at his hands pinning you down, needing to grab onto something before you feel like you lose yourself completely. He presses down onto your stomach, switching his pace to a slower one and you almost scream—

“Shit,” he whispers, voice trailing into a moan when his hips jerk, shoving his cock impossibly deeper, “I can feel you cumming—fuck, you’re so—” The next thing you know, you’re being flipped ont the bed, soft mattress pressing against your stomach and ass being dragged up into the air. 

“Ran, please—” You feel so empty without him inside you, taking back everything you thought previously about sex not being enjoyable, wishing he could be inside you all the time to fill you with that warmth. 

He grips his cock, panting softly before lining his cock up at your entrance. “‘M gonna fuck you full of cum, I swear to—” His promise is cut off when he slips back inside, groaning and dragging your hips back to take his cock, mouth dropping open as your walls flutter around his cock, “Gonna fill you up—you want that, huh?”

“Mhm-mhm,” It’s hard to speak when your face is being shoved into the pillow, hands reaching behind you, desperate to touch him when he’s pinning them to your back with a firm hand. 

He ruts against you with a desperation that has you screaming your frustrations out into the pillow as you listen to his provocative dirty talk, ears full with the sounds of skin on skin slapping against each other. 

“Arch your back,” he commands, letting go of your pinned wrists to allow you freedom of movement, digging his fingers into your hips to physically stop himself from moving to give you the energy to bend forward, watching with sharp eyes as the line in the middle of your back dips, “Just like that, yeah.”

You wind your hands in the pillow, holding it like it's your lifeline as you feel him bend forward, grinding his cock with slow strokes. “Feel good, hm?”

“I—kiss me, please,” you manage to gasp out and he winds a hand in your hair, pulling you up with a firm grip to crash your lips together. It’s messy and desperate, ignoring your protesting neck and back just to lick into his mouth hopelessly.

He tugs your bottom lip with his teeth before shoving you back down onto the bed, resuming his quick, calculated thrusts. “Close?”

You nod, head heavy and snake a hand down your body to your clit, circling your fingers around it a little faster. “Uh-huh.”

“Shit, cum for me—wanna feel you, c’mon.” His hand comes down hard and heavy on your ass, and that was the driving point for you, a broken cry of his name into the pillow as your walls clamp to his cock. He groans, thrusting one, two, three more times before he groans, breathing heavily and you feel cock twitch twice before he fills the condom.

His cock is wedged deep inside you as he stills his hips, riding out his orgasm. There’s a wet noise when he slips out and your body falls limp onto the bed, every single muscle inside your body aches and you feel so sore. 

You shut your eyes closed for a moment when you hear some movement around the room, some shuffling before your cold body is being engulfed by his warm embrace as he climbs back into the bed with you. 

“You okay?” He asks, head dipped in the crevice of your neck, pressing soft kisses against the skin and you nod your head, hands coming up to hold his arm, cherishing his warmth.

“I’m good.” Looking over the curve of your shoulder, you make eye contact with him and smile, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being my first time. I really enjoyed it.” 

There’s a look you can’t read on his face but his eyes soften more a moment before he’s moving on top of you. Your body surges up to kiss you, sloppy and happy as his laughter ghosts across your mouth. “You’re so soft.”

“No you are! I saw your eyes soften. I’m not blind.”

“That’s cause—” He looks like he’s about to say something but then shakes his head, looking down.

“Cause what?” You move his head back up to your eyes,furrowing your brows as you wait for him to continue.

“I—I think I love you.”

You swallow, wrinkling your nose and blink up at him, those three words wiping all consciousness from your body. At your silence, he fidgets a little, swallowing constantly and swears he feels heat rushing to his palms.

“Nevermind, I—”

“No! No,no don’t take it back.” You panic, sitting up so quickly you knock your forehead against his. Falling back onto the bed with a groan, you rub at your forehead, wincing a little, “I’m such a mess, sorry—”

“No, it’s fine.” He laughs a little, rubbing his own forehead from the hit. 

“I…think I love you too. You just caught me off-guard and I panicked, I’m sorry.” You grab at his hands, bringing them up to your lips and peck the skin there softly watching as he looks at you, wide-eyed. “No, I don’t think; I know I do. I love you, Ran.”

He doesn’t say anything, looking down at the bed for a moment before chuckling, hand coming up to your cheek to caress it lightly, “Like I said before, you’re so soft.”

“Says you!” You want to hit him again but he’s tugging you down onto the bed with him, wrapping his arms around and you smile, snuggling up to his chest. 

“You’re staying the night, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I can walk home anyway, my legs are fucked.”

“Good.” 

[knightyoomyoui]

The 1% Of Chances | TWICE Jeongyeon x Male Reader Fanfic: CHAPTER 9

Hellooo! Damn, it's been almost 8 months now since I haven't updated this book, and I almost forgot where I left off, which required me to re-read this book and the plot outline I made. Sorry for those who waited, but what's important now is that IT'S BACK, and I'm finally going to finish this to lessen the worklist I have on my drafts. We are now down to 3 chapters left, and so far, I'm also applying some little changes to the ending because I just thought of something better than the originally planned one.

Actually, there's nothing much going on here in the entirety of this chapter, but it serves as a short "calm before the storm" moment that will finally set us up for the climax down to the conclusion of the story.

Since Jeongyeon doesn't have a schedule for today—which includes you as her personal manager—you've both agreed to go somewhere more fun with your spare time rather than just spending it in the dorm.

She offered to drive you home in Jeongyeon's own vehicle, taking the wheel as soon as you were done loading. You were taken aback at first, but because it was her initiating the task, you didn't mind objecting and allowing her to proceed so as not to ruin her fun.

You sat at the passenger's seat next to Jeongyeon and laughed together before she started the engine and operated the vehicle, stepping on the accelerator to get you both to your first destination.

"Do you want me to play some music while you drive?" You asked her, aware at the fact that although you can find yourselves some topic to talk about throughout the ride, it might die down and make the atmosphere a bit boring and quiet.

"Sure." She quickly replied to you, agreeing to listen too. "Hey, wanna do some carpool karaoke?"

"Was that like doing a karaoke while in a car?"

"Nice catch, genius…?" Jeongyeon looked at you in a deadpan manner which caused you to be slightly embarrassed. "Ofcourse silly, you just reversed the name. And yeah, it's simply singing along while we're on a ride."

"Hmm sure, I'll take the male vocals."

"Nope, I want you to sing with me even if it's female." Jeongyeon shook her head.

"I can't sing that well, my voice isn't low pitch." You declined. "And… it's making me shy."

"What? Why? It's just the two of us come on." Jeongyeon whined as she bounced at her seat to express her disappointment. "I wanna see you sing along to some female led-songs."

"I don't sing one, I'm mostly into male-leds."

"You sure?" She side-eyed you. "Hmm then what about when I saw you having that Sabrina Carpenter song on your Spot-"

"Okay okay stop!" You became flushed as you didn't expect Jeongyeon would use this as a retort card to capture you on the corner. "Ugh, fine. But I was just curious about it because I've been hearing it a lot on my Insta feed so… I tried to give it a listen."

"It was a vibe actually." She agreed.

"Yeah it sounds so good. Don't know her that much but that's probably one of my songs I could use to cheer myself up."

"Should we listen to it?"

"Okay…" You were about to search for it on your playlist until you paused. "Wait, we're gonna sing too right?"

"Mmhmm.."

"But her voice was smooth there, I might ruin the song with my monstrous voice."

"Hey, who told you that?!" Jeongyeon knitted her brows in disapproval at the self-deprecating term you chose. "I always thought you'd be a great voice actor or something, and you probably had such a great deep voice. It doesn't even matter if you can't match the notes; all I want is for us to have fun. Just go with the vibe of the song, that's all."

Also, don't you want your partner to be happy?" She was teasing you, pouting her lips and making fun at you with her sulky attitude. You've noticed her habit, and it was too irresistable to ignore without being continuously obstinate.

"Okay, fine, I'm going to play it. Damn it, Jeong, you really know how my weak spot is." You clicked your tongue as you pinched her cheeks, which made her giggle like a little girl. As you played the music, both you and her sang along together. She did laugh at you, but not because of how horrible you sound as what you think of yourself. You were pretty average, and she was just reacting this way because she was obviously impressed by you.

After going through your third song, you noticed in the GPS tracker that you're shortly meters away from reaching the place where you are heading both. You've decided to share something that popped into your mind.

"This is honestly my second time of going here." You recalled. "I remember when me and my family used to come here way before I was young."

"How old were you back then?"

"Hmm… 17 I guess?" You said. "It was a celebration for my brother being an honor awardee in his school. I kinda missed going here, well I wanted to bit you know, time passes and we grow old enough and some interests don't stay with us forever. My brother is already at the right age and he doesn't feel to visit these sort of place anymore like he used to be. Well even if he does, we still wouldn't be able to do so anyway."

"Why so?"

"Broken family." You bitterly smiled. "It won't feel the same as before anymore."

Jeongyeon looked at you concerned and gripped your hand. "Sorry to hear that. Hey, let's stop talking about it if it'll make you comfortable. We're now here, let's not kill the mood alright?"

"Yeah, sorry Jeong. It's my fault."

"No, don't mind it. You just want to recollect some memories you had, and you know I'm willing to listen to your stories anytime you want. I'll be here if you need something to release within yourself okay?" She lightly punched you in the chest then ruffled your hair.

"Okay." You smiled nicely at her. She gave you a quick kiss on the lips after that, increasing your energy back at its full capacity for today.

"Let me park this big boy right here first." She said as she paid for the parking fee at the guard before proceeding to enter the vacant lot.

You and Jeongyeon got out of your car and took your stuff after finding a spot to park for a while. You take her hand obediently as she shows the tickets to gain entry into Lotte Park, your first of three destinations to have some alone time together. You strolled across the park's entrance afterwards.

She put on her mask to reduce the attention she might get from individuals who might recognize her as a member of TWICE and a K-Pop idol. Even if it means that she will have to give up her freedom to display her bare face in public, she doesn't want anyone to disrupt this moment with you. She doesn't care because, at this point, all that matters to her is to be with you today.

"Where should we head on first?" Jeongyeon said as she viewed the entire interior of the amusement park, the different rides, attractions, arcades and many more all visible in your eyes to choose.

"Hmm… I want to… I want to eat first."

"Yah, seriously?" She chuckled at you. "We just ate before going out of the dorm and now you're hungry again?"

"I love eating, you can't blame me."

"You're also unfair and unbelievable, you know? You eat this much and yet you don't get fat." Jeongyeon elbowed you on the stomach. "Alright, you male counterpart of Momo, what fast-food chain you want?"

"Some hotdog station will do."

"I'm easy to talk with, so let's go." She grabbed your wrist and pulled it with her like you're a child being dragged along by your mother.

Reaching the 2nd floor where the food section is at, both of you stepped in front of the hotdog station where you wanted to eat. She lets you choose the order first since you're the one who requested this, and you kindly obliged to it.

Minutes later, you have received your foods altogether and ate it while watching the visitors around the place, having fun in their own ways. Even at sightseeing was fun to do so with your carefree and adventurous girlfriend, there won't be an instance where she wouldn’t try to find something hilarious for both of you to share laughters with.

For instance, she was telling you how much the other members enjoyed hotdogs when she just broke out into laughter. She mentioned that she had just witnessed a dad stumble in front of the playhouse while chasing his child when you asked her why. Even though you may not have witnessed it directly, Jeongyeon's laughter is contagious enough to make you get along with her easily.

After emptying your hotdogs, Jeongyeon brought yourselves back onto the main business of going here in the park. You immediately said your first preference to try.

The couple has attempted almost the entire selection of rides, attractions, and arcades all around the main lobby of the park, leading to yourself being highly exhausted from the adrenaline, enthusiasm, and laughter you have both spent playing like crazy.

You two rest on a bench first to conserve your energy for the next destination. You volunteered to wipe Jeongyeon's sweat across her back and arms and also bought some cotton candy for you and her. Another brief conversation has passed through, and after making yourselves satisfied, you exit and ride the car again with her to head to the following location.

You took the wheel this time as you let Jeongyeon sleep for a while after she shared that she's feeling sleepy. It was a silent ride, so you reopened your playlist and played it at a minimal volume to avoid disrupting your girlfriend's peaceful sleep.

It took like 45 minutes to get to the Seoul Museum of History, which was your suggestion to visit with her since you have to learn the history of everything, from its origin to how it evolved and what it left for the next generations to either adapt or innovate with respect to the progress of time in our world.

You woke up, Jeongyeon, after successfully reaching the designatedplace. She nodded in response, and she did some adjustment of her look to prevent looking haggard outside from her sleep. Bringing your camera with you, she walked with you again with arms clasped on each other, accompanying you towards the entrance of the museum.

You happen to roam around and snap pictures of the items, people, and events that transpired or existed in South Korea with Jeongyeon as a keepsake of your time spent with her, and these areas are organized into categories via each floor. Additionally, Jeongyeon was amazed and intrigued by several fascinating informations you learnt about Seoul and South Korea as a whole.

Once you've finished looking over all of the artifacts, antiques, statues, and other items on exhibit inside, you tell Jeongyeon that your time is up and you may go on to your final destination and finish the day with her.

Driving under the sky of Korea, about to greet the nightfall with the gradual emergence of the bright moon and the soft transition of the clarity of the clouds to the darkness of the aerial perspective, you and Jeongyeon calmly watched the surroundings you two were passing while on the way there.

Sighting the familiar spot from the distance, it brought relief for the both of you that you have made through all of these safely and successfully, bringing much joy to each other. Parking the car again for the third time, you joined Jeongyeon to stroll with you around Seokcheon Lake Park, your final place to spend the remaining time available tonight with her.

Apart from the rows of cherry blossoms that surrounding them, both of them were thrilled to capture the stunning scenery that would be perfect for a lovely pair like you and Jeongyeon.

You have spotted a tteobokki cart and without hesitation, you bought each for yourselves and claimed an available bench in front of the lake as you take a break along with her.

"Oh… mhmm… wow. Tteobokki will always remain one of the greatest foods I've ever tasted." You complimented after chewing the rice cake and sipping its sweet and spicy sauce.

"I'm with you on that." She also took a bit again and hummed at how satisfying delicious it is. "We did shaped this day better as what we expected, right?"

"And we deserve this too, after such hectic schedule that we had from you. I just hope the girls are doing well too on their own." You replied.

"I'm most certain they are. They aren't choosy or like timid to try something to entertain themselves through their day off. They're basically easy to explore things as long as they develop interest to it." She said.

You finished your food and threw it at the nearby trash bin before returning beside your girlfriend and cuddle with her. While watching the reflection of the nightsky through the crystal clear water of the lake, you inserted a topic that suddenly crossed your mind.

"Jeongyeon, do you think we'll last long?"

She looks at you before returning her gaze back at the scenery in front of you two. You felt her shoulders shrug, but the way her arms clenched yours tighter is enough to confirm her answer.

"I don't know, but I really hope we do. We just have to commit ourselves to do anything that won't break our trust for each other."

"Yeah, and for me… I don't even think it's possible for neither one of us to fell out of love someday. Especially me, I really do love you a lot, Jeongyeon. So much that I think even after everything that may happen to us for better or for worse, my heart would always bring me back to you."

"Can tell the same as mine." Jeongyeon smiled and made her head more comfortable laying atop on your shoulder. "We'll either just leave the fate on us… or we create a fate of our own where no matter what happens, from the start until the end, it will still remain to be you and I forever."

"I really can't wait for our wedding in the future." You chuckled as you caress her hand, especially the finger that you would love to insert your engagement and wedding ring for her. "But about that… I still have something to accomplish first before we get through there."

Jeongyeon may have caught what you meant by that. "Are you sure about that, YN?"

"They definitely knew about our relationship now anyway, it's all around the news and internet. I say we must not take them too long waiting for us to confirm it ourselves."

"So you're ready now."

"Almost… but I can handle it. I-I'm a bit nervous still at what your parents are going to react."

"They have no problem with it when they confronted me about it. They're nice, YN. I'm sure you'll easily win their approval, I mean… you fit the qualities of what they like the most for a guy that will take their daughter to marry." Jeongyeon giggled and and blushed at that fact.

"So you mean they're not also against on you loving a non-celebrity guy like me?"

"Tsk, as if they give a damn about it." She rolled her eyes and stared at you a bit intensely. "Them and even I don't need somebody who is also popular to be told as my perfect match. I take love seriously, and what I need in return is somebody who can give me that pure and sincere. I'm not someone who prefers bragging a relationship because of our social status, I just want a man who is willing to love me for who I am inside and outside, and I found it from you, YN. Because of that, you have stolen my heart and gave me the feels."

She tried to be serious after admitting it all to you until she slowly cracks a laughter after she saw your expression noticing something suspcious.

"Wait a minute…" You also began to cackle with her. "Did you really just included a reference to The Feels?"

"Yah! I thought I was too slick for that." She conceded defeat. "But I said what I said, and you know I mean what I mean, YN."

You pulled her head against you and kissed her directly on the lips, which took some time for yourselves to separate as you encouraged her to move your mouths deeper to make your intimacy more passionate, just as you wanted it.

You leaned away for a second and stared deeply at Jeongyeon's sparkling eyes while brushing her pink tinted cheeks. "I know, Jeongyeon, and I'll always have it on my mind while I feel your love for me."

"Great, then get back here and let me give you more." She pulled your collar through her, forcefully inviting you back into another heated kiss of affection.

As they arrived on the dorm, you both tried to continue making out with each other when suddenly it got interrupted again when you felt a stinging pain again in your head returned from yesterday.

"YN what's happening to you?" Your girlfriend checks up on you as she observes you loose the hem of her shirt from your grip while you groan and crunch your face.

"It's hurting again…"

"What? Where is it?"

"My head." You said as you hold your skull to endure the kicking pain that causes you severe discomfort.

It made Jeongyeon alerted at your condition. She went through the first aid kit and looked for some painkiller pills and filled a glass of water before going back to you and instructed you to take it.

You followed her advice and she let you lay your head beside her neck as she cuddled you. She slowly laid you down on the bed with her and gently stroked your hair.

"Calm down, YN. It will be gone shortly. I think you're tired of everything we did today, so rest up for now okay?"

"Okay."

"There you go. Goodnight and love you." She kissed you on the forehead before she continues taking care of you.

"Love you too, Jeong. Goodnight."

Both of you went calm that it disappeared and the medicine worked atleast… although only for a while.

Two days later while you are currently helping the stylists who are applying make ups to Jeongyeon and cleaning all the managers' leftover food containers, another episode of pain attacked your head again. It became confusing and quite frightening to you that the more you're suffering from this, the more painful it gets compared to last time .

What's surprising was that it didn't also occur at night which was way earlier today, pointing that it also happens now at a random period of time.

“Unnie, he’s been like this since few days ago. I don’t know what to do.”

"Jeongyeon, join YN. I'll call emergency and JYP for a while." Sadness said as she hurriedly reported your condition to both of these important people that can hold responsibility for your currently worrying state.

She returned to the dressing room, passing through staffs and the other TWICE members who are heavily scared and worried for both of their friends. "The ambulance are on their way now. JYP also agreed and mentioned that he will pay some visit for YN afterwards."

"Thank you unnie." Jeongyeon nodded before she returned her gaze at you who is still clenching your body like a ball while gripping your head furiously in pain.

"Hold on for a while, YN. Okay? Help is coming. Please, I hope nothing bad must happen to you," she said as she started to get teary-eyed seeing the love of her life suffering in her arms.

The medical team arrived at the place a few minutes later and immediately rescued the poor YN, putting him on a stretcher while Jeongyeon insisted on joining her boyfriend's side on the way to the hospital.

She guarded you intently, watching you barely opening your eyes and weakly breathing, while the thoughts and feelings disturbing her were filled with fear and anxiety regarding your health.

[inkblot22]

Can You Keep A Little Secret 3

Someone call somebody, because Epel beat my ass while I was writing this chapter. I thought I had it drafted perfectly and then I reread what I had and was like what is this?? So this is maybe the most edited thing on this blog, hooray! Real talk, though, his rabbit suit is the cutest thing ever and I want to put flowers in his hair. Dividers by @/cafekitsune.

This fic is aimed towards sort of everyone, but the reader possesses afab features. This is important in this chapter, but as it is a reincarnation fic, the fic is aimed at anyone who can handle it. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns!

TW for threatening behavior, mention of death, violence (reader gets tossed around a bit), strangulation, semi-shy reader, AFAB reader, NONCON, DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, pregnancy mention, degrading language used towards reader

Link to previous chapter here!

Epel doesn’t even mention it. You keep your interactions professional, go over your lines at home, and this proceeds for the first week. 

He’s called you a few times, sent a few messages. You changed his name in your phone to “Epel Fucko.” It makes you giggle, at least. That’s about the only funny thing.

Over the week, you ignore every single call and message from Epel. On Thursday, it feels like he’s finally gotten the message, since he stops trying. When he’s at work with you, the two of you are hardly alone, if ever. He’s as sweet as pie as long as there’s at least one pair of outward eyes on your interactions. You sleep alright on Thursday and Friday.

As usual, on the weekend, your new mother comes by, but this time she isn’t alone. She’s got groceries with her, and attached to the groceries is Epel, who she seems absolutely taken with. She’s beaming as she walks in, and when you go to help her with dinner, she shoos you away.

“Go entertain your guest! I can handle myself in here.”

He’s not your guest, but you don’t want to find out what she’s like when she’s annoyed, so you go to the living room, making sure you’re seated within sight of the kitchen. The apartment isn’t big, but you’re not taking any chances.

Epel smiles sweetly at you and shows you his palm, “Lemme see your phone?”

“Why?”

“You ain’t been picking up. Just wanna make sure I don’t gotta get you a new one.”

“It’s not broken.”

Epel’s face twitches, that little microexpression that you notice but can’t observe. He smiles and leans back, resting his ankle on his knee.

“I get it.” You’re certain he doesn’t, but you don’t get the chance to retort when he continues speaking in that overly-innocent tone of voice, “Your mom’s real sweet.”

You have half a mind to think that might be a threat, but surely it couldn’t be. Threats are for fantasy stories, best left in books of espionage and diplomacy and magic. You nod, sighing.

“I think I’d be dead without her, haha.”

“Mmm.” Epel hums, as though he’s disinterested, and changes the subject, “It’s odd to see you not all dolled up.”

“Uh…”

“It’s nothing bad. I think it’s a good change, really. All of this is.”

“Thank… you?” You don’t know how to respond to any of this.

“You’re welcome.” He glances at the wall and squirms in his seat, “You, uh, haven’t replaced your television yet.”

You didn’t know you had a television. It dawns on you, as you shake your head, that Epel could literally have made up anything and is testing you, but you shake that thought off. It’s more ridiculous than the idea of him threatening your mother. 

Speaking of, she exits the kitchen with some amazing looking stir-fry. She hands you your plate and frowns at your proximity to where Epel is sitting.

“You can sit closer. I don’t judge. My, it almost makes me miss your father… and then I remember what he’s like, ahaha!” She jokes, walking back into the kitchen.

Epel smiles, but he’s looking at your plate. He looks confused.

Your mother fills the air with chatter. Since you don’t know much about her, it’s very welcome. At least her talking gives you a distraction from the unwanted guest in your home.

You don’t know why Epel decided to visit you today. Well, slight correction- you do know, you just don’t understand his audacity. What gave him the right to barge in like this, especially after you were very deliberately ignoring him?

Your mother heaves a sigh and gathers the dishes, “Well, let me clean up and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

You stand up and try to help with the dishes, half-hoping to convince the woman to take Epel with her when she leaves, but she shoos you out of the kitchen again. It figures that you’ll have to face your problem head on.

Epel looks about as comfortable as can be, sitting on your couch. He has a tendency to look somewhat stiff in public, but right now he’s leaned back, his legs spread and his toes wiggling in his socks. His eyebrows tick upwards as you stop right in front of him.

You swallow warily, “Uh, it’s getting sort of late.”

“It is.”

You know he understood what you meant. You can’t really trust your mother to be on your side here, however, so you refrain from telling him to stop acting smart, “Yeah, uh… early morning tomorrow?”

As Epel smirks at you as though you’ve just told a very adorable joke, your mother breezes out of the kitchen, “Ta ta, kids! Don’t have too much fun without me!”

About as soon as the door closes, you feel like you need to leave if Epel won’t. Although common sense would tell you not to poke the bear, you don’t have much of a choice, “Epel, it’s time for you to leave.”

Epel doesn’t respond, not immediately. He flexes his hands, cracks his knuckles, and rests his ankle on his knee before his lips quirk into a smile, “You remember the last time we were alone like this?”

The words freak you out more than they have a right to. You can feel your face cycling through various expressions- you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re angry, you’re distressed- and Epel laughs.

“I know you don’t.” He says, standing up. He’s not much taller than you, but he’s somehow looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “If you did, you’d have left with your ma.”

You don’t like that smug, smirky look on his face. You don’t like the way he acts, you don’t like the way he treats you. You don’t like him, point blank period. Your eyes narrow and your lip curls, and you can’t help the scowl, “You know, you’re right. Have fun in my apartment, Epel.”

You take two steps back from him and fight back a shiver when he begins giggling. You walk backwards towards the door and he just watches you, laughter peppering the air. As soon as you have your back against the door and your hand on the knob, his laughter dies down and he sighs.

“‘Course.” He drawls, taking a step forward. “I mean… any pretty thing like you would probably not want to be in a room with me after what I did to you.”

“Wh-what?”

Epel’s eyes narrow in some slight disbelief, “You really don’t remember?”

“I-”

His expression twists a little further, then smooths into neutrality. He hums, thoughtful, “What college did I go to?”

You furrow your eyebrows, twisting the knob a little bit. Epel’s expression grows more and more confused.

“Hmm. Somethin’s off about you. Has been for a little while now.” He mumbles, shapely lavender eyebrows furrowed.

“N-no, I’m me, I just-”

“How long have we known each other?”

You don’t have an answer. You have no answer. You balk and Epel grabs you by your collar and drags you away from the door. You kick and struggle, clawing at his hands, but he’s unfortunately stronger than he looks as he dumps you on the floor of your bathroom then crouches to get in your face.

And then he’s standing and scrubbing a hand down his face, his back to you as he mumbles to himself. He stalks to the mirror and wrenches it open. You didn’t even know it did that.

“You only took one.” His voice is cold, and he turns to pin you with a glare, “But you’re acting a lot better than you was.”

“O-one what? Epel, you’re scaring me. I’m gonna call the cops.”

Epel laughs in your face and stalks towards you. His posture is all wrong, he looks like some kind of feral animal, and then he grips the front of your shirt and yanks, “What would you tell them? I’d love to know.”

“Y-you’re threatening my wellbeing by acting erratic!”

He looks unimpressed, jostling you once, “I’m acting erratic? I used to be the polite one! And now you… you don’t got none of your memories and you’re sweeter’n pie. People don’t change like that, honey, not without a little help. You’re smart enough to know that.”

“What are you talking about? What did you pull out of the medicine cabinet?” Your voice is warbling, like you’re trying to speak to the tune of a theremin.

Epel shoves you back, your back hitting the bathtub, before picking a weekly pill case out of the medicine cabinet. His slender fingers pull out a pearlescent pill from the case and hold it up to the vanity so the light frames it. He’s very picturesque, but this isn’t something sweet or wonderful. You’re absolutely certain he’s going to fuck you up tonight, and you don’t know how you’re going to get out of this yet. You shuffle so you’re standing, and Epel turns to you, an eerie smile on his pretty face. He’s in-between you and the door.

“Do you know what these are?” He shows you the pill.

You shake your head. You don’t know what that is. Epel clucks his tongue and mockingly pouts.

“This,” He takes a step forward and places the pill in his palm, looking down at it, “is what your daily multivitamin looks like. I remember, because you made a big deal about it when you were first put on them. Do you remember?”

You don’t answer. It’s not like you needed to, really, since Epel is once again carrying the conversation.

“Of course you don’t. The self-centered brat I know would never miss an opportunity to make themselves prettier at the cost of actual beauty. And you are not the self-centered brat I knew. You’re someone else.”

“I-”

“Don’t worry. Let me finish, and then I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.” He shows you the pill again. “This is not your daily multivitamin. If you were the person who lived here, the one I’ve known for five some-odd years, you would also know that I went to NRC.”

“The mage school?” You ask blankly.

“Mmm-hmm. Very good. I was placed in Pomefiore. It’s a dorm there, bunch’a frills and shit, all obsessed with beauty… and poison.”

“Y-you-”

“Ah-ah! I ain’t done, sugar. Now, I knew something fishy was going on when you weren’t wearing a pound of makeup last week, but I figured it was what I intended to be a… soothing powder, of sorts, at work. Now that I know you ain’t been taking them, well…”

“Y-you poisoned them?”

Epel’s eyes narrowed sharply at you. Normally his features are very soft and welcoming, but his piercing blue gaze is nothing but dangerous now. “So you admit it.”

It’s not a question. It’s a blunt statement, the only fluctuation in his voice having been placed there by his accent. You inch along the wall and he turns to watch you. As you reach the door, you think he’s maybe going to lunge at you, but instead he delicately covers his mouth and snickers. His shoulders shake and he begins to giggle, which evolves into full blown hysterical laughter.

You twist the handle and over-estimate, falling a bit backwards as the door swings open. If you survive tonight, your neighbors are going to be pissed. You quickly scramble to your feet and rush for your phone. There is no house phone here, and you wonder why you didn’t bring your cellphone with you when you went to the door.

You don’t make it to the living room, since Epel tackles you to the floor. His laughter echoes in your apartment like some kind of haunting song, the tolling of the bells before a funeral. You shriek, your eyes filling with tears as his arm curls around your neck.

“E-Epel, I’m sorry, I’m sorry that whoever I was acted mean to you, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me-”

His laughter rises, “Shut the hell up and stay still.”

You do as he says, despite you wanting to keep pleading, because his arm has constricted around your throat and you’re choking. The guttural noises escaping you are a combination of your terrified sobs and broken gasps for air. Epel wrestles you so you’re standing and then drags you into your bedroom, shoving you so you’re splayed out on the rug next to your bed.

“I always dreamed of seeing you… the real you with that cute look on your face, the one that screams, ‘Oh, help me! Anyone, save me!’ Distress. Like your little heart is breaking.” He straddles you and puts his hand over your face, grinning. “I always wanted to see you like this. Too bad you’re just the unfortunate bystander to years of rivalry, huh? Guess it makes sense that you seemed spacey.”

“E-Epel- Epel, p-please don’t do this. I’ll leave you alone, I promise, I-”

“What is ‘this’?” His voice is teasing, a cruel little smirk on his face as he leans so his hands are cuffing your wrists to the floor. “What do you think I’m gonna do?”

“Y-you’re gonna kill me again…?” You sound so small. Like a mouse, or something of the like.

Epel covers his mouth again as he laughs, eyes shutting in mirth and then he leans close to your ear. You can hear him moving, hear the saliva in his throat as he swallows, and the moisture on his breath hits your ear, making your skin prickle, “Do you want me to kill you again?”

You shake your head, desperate for this second chance at life. You already died, and there was nothing until you woke up. You didn’t even realize it, thinking you were just asleep before. You’re stressed out, but you want the chance for things to get better.

“Mmm. Good.” Epel draws back a bit and places his hands on your waist, his thumbs pushing a bit too hard against your skin, “Here’s what we’re gonna do, honey. I am going to fuck you-”

“No! No, no, no, please-”

Epel smacks the rest of your plea out of your mouth. Your cheek stings and he lowers his hand, smiling sweetly, “As I was saying, I am going to fuck you until we both know you’re pregnant. We’re going to announce that we’re together, we’re going to be together. Because you’re not who I knew, I like you more than the person I knew, and you need me anyway.”

You sob, your voice loud as Epel braces a hand around your neck and makes quick work of your shorts. You squirm and wriggle and he uses the other hand to drag up your shirt, pinching your nipple before he pants and starts pulling his slacks open.

“You need me, you know that? I’m the only one who knew the real you, the you before your little accident.” Something burning hot presses against your thigh, and you shudder, “Do you understand? Tell me you love me if you understand.”

“N-no, no, please, Epel, I don’t-”

“You don’t what?” He seethes, angling his hips and pressing against your entrance, “You don’t understand or you think you’re gonna be okay on your own out here? Those other motherfuckers, they don’t give a damn about you. I’m giving you a chance to heal your public image, bitch. You’d best take it.”

You don’t get the chance to hysterically decline, as Epel slams into you with a lusty grunt. He stays still for a moment and you hear your voice before you realize you’re speaking.

“-this to me? Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?” You babble, your tears making your voice thready. Epel flexes the hand around your neck and you stop talking.

“I always thought you was pretty. You know that?” He almost sounds vulnerable, but the wild look in your eyes and the sudden jerk of his hips makes you remember that Epel is not someone to think of in a positive light, in any capacity. Pity counts. 

He moans and lets his arms loose, his entire body still casing you in as he rests his forehead on the plush rug you’re sprawled on, his hips undulating as he snickers meanly, “Always thought your personality was shit, though. Mmm, I like you so much better like this.”

He’s hot, on top of you. His body temperature is making you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure if that’s your sweat or his sweat that’s dampening your skin. His fingers are a shocking cold, however, as they come up to harshly tweak your nipple.

You yelp, coming back to yourself and squirming again. He sits up so he can clamp a hand around your throat again. The lights are all still on, the room is bright and although there’s a shadow clinging to his front, you can see Epel’s features plain as day. His hair is a mess, it must have fallen out of the tie he had it in. The lavender waves spiral over his pretty face like an ornate picture frame. His cheeks are a pink that would maybe be cute if he wasn’t trying to forcefully fuck a baby into you.

Like always, Epel looks like he’s maybe about to cry. His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips clamped unnaturally tight, his eyes glistening. But behind the shine in his eyes, behind the rosy cheeks and the upset expression, there’s an eerie air of disturbia.

He releases your throat for a moment, then clamps it down again, watching your skin ripple with the force of his thrusts, “I don’t want to kill you. I didn’t want to kill you the first time. So you are going to have to do something for me, so I don’t decide to kill you.”

You gasp, choking for air. Epel tilts his head and smiles, looking more worried than conniving.

“You need to stay still. You don’t have to enjoy it. It’s more about my pleasure anyhow.”

You hate him. You thought you disliked him, but as you nod so he’ll stop strangling you, you decide that you hate this man, you loathe every fiber of his being and the very thought of having his child makes you long for death again. This second chance is not worth this.

Epel coos and kisses your tear-streaked cheek, then lets your throat go, bracing his hands around your head. He’s framing your face as he smirks down at you, his hips rutting into yours. His eyes narrow a bit and he reaches down to tilt your hips further up, one of his hands hooking in the crook of your knee, which he presses as far up as he can go. 

And then he bows his head and lets out a whisper of a groan, his hips stuttering to a stop. You shiver and cry, feeling somehow numb despite being overly aware of every single touch on your body. You feel the carpet beneath you, but you don’t. You feel Epel’s weight on you, but you can’t. You can hear yourself crying, you feel Epel’s lips peppering your face, kissing the tears away, but you refuse to live in this moment.

Epel gets off of you and stretches, then starts unbuttoning his shirt and rolls his slacks the rest of the way off, but leaves his socks on. He hums to himself as he walks out into the main area of the apartment, leaving you in a heap and alone in the bedroom.

He returns with a pair of mugs, one of his cold hands rubbing your belly as he smiles down at you and puts the mugs down.

“Don’t tell me you’re all spent, sugar. It hardly ever takes on the first try. We’ve got another few rounds before we can go to bed.”

You can’t respond.

[hellborn-bitch]

First Impressions

A continuation of Zira meeting Alastor, including their deal-making. I’m gonna call this another one-shot kinda ? Cuz it’s not really a chapter ? Idk lol

Again, this is entirely self-indulgent and I’m just kinda writing to write I don’t really have a formal plan to make this into a fic. Yet… ?

Alastor believed first impressions were crucial. He’d understood the importance when he was alive, and certainly did so in Hell. He took great pride in the fact a single glance struck fear into the hearts of any demon who dared to cross his path.

But this demon, this succubus, was different. She couldn’t be bothered to even feign fear of him. He couldn’t decide if he found it brave and admirable, or naive and ignorant to hold eye contact with the infamous Radio Demon the way she had. She was either unaware or apparently unafraid of his ruthless reputation.

Looking at her, her face full of disgust with what he assumed was a permanent frown, he found himself slightly amused. There was something to be said about unrelenting defiance, that he could almost appreciate.

Almost. Certainly not when it was directed to him, however.

“You’re looking at her.” She hissed, her tail flicking aggressively to punctuate her words.

So bold. So stubborn. This kind of blatant disrespect he would expect from the Vees, but from a Hellborn succubus, of all demons? Nearly the bottom of the food chain in Hell’s hierarchy and yet here she stood, brazenly defiant before him.

It was an entirely foreign concept to him, to have a soul so obviously beneath him act as though they weren’t. And it was perfectly irritating.

Alastor hummed in contemplation, mulling over how to proceed with his newest acquisition. “I trust you’ve already signed the contract then?”

His gaze immediately flicked to Asmodeus, as he cleared his throat to speak, “Actually no, that was to be done today to complete the uh… transaction.”

Alastor watched him flinch as the word left his mouth, and looked curiously over to the subject of said transaction.

She rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms with a huff, “Well that’s one way to put it.”

The utterance under her breath had gone unnoticed by the embodiment of Lust, but Alastor had heard it. He couldn’t help the dark laugh that gathered in his throat as he basked in her clear hatred for her current situation.

“Well then! I am more than delighted to draft the deal myself.” Alastor’s grin stretched, his eyes darkening with malicious intent. “I do love making deals, after all.”

Azira watched as his red eyes flashed and the odd static from before seemed to creep back into the room like a suffocating fog. She instinctively backed away in disgust, her face contorting to match the sentiment. This freak was becoming more and more of a problem for her.

Her eyes widened in realization, a new wave of energy washing over her as she pointed an accusatory finger at Alastor.

“Wait- if I haven’t signed any contract, then I’ve not been sold to anyone! I can’t just be acquired! He didn’t own me yet, and neither do you.”

Alastor watched as her face shifted back to familiar defiance, her eyes challenging him to find the flaw in her logic. Which, he could, of course. But oh, how he was enjoying watching her false sense of victory over him.

His pulse quickened in anticipation just thinking about her inevitable fall into his clutches, how delicious her disappointment would be. Asmodeus suddenly spoke again, interrupting his predatory plans.

“I’m afraid that’s… not quite how it works, babe.” He reasoned with her gently.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” She threw her hands up exasperatedly and shifted her weight onto one hip.

“No contract, no Overlord, NO DEAL.” She locked eyes with the Radio Demon when delivering the last two words, yet another challenge.

Asmodeus laughed nervously, and spoke instead to Alastor, “Could you excuse us for a moment? I just… need to discuss a few things with her.”

Alastor waved a hand dismissively, before turning it around to examine his claws, feigning disinterest. He was sure to keep a well-tuned ear, in the direction of the two demons, listening.

He watched Asmodeus pull Azira to the other side of the room, a massive hand on each of her shoulders.It was evident there was a bond between the two, but he couldn’t quite place the nature of it.

“Look… when we were still alone, there was a chance I could play it off and explain the circumstances to get you off the hook.”

He took a deep sigh and ran a hand through his multi-colored plumage. “But now the Radio Demon knows about it, and he smells the blood in the water. He is the last person to drop a deal that’s already been made.”

“BUT HE CAN’T-“ Azira was cut off by Asmodeus shushing her softly, a hand coming to cup her cheek.

Alastor watched, fighting his curiosity from winning over the discretion he was attempting. He couldn’t understand the dynamic between the two of them. Were they friends? Lovers?

Surely not…

Then again, he wasn’t exactly the best at deciphering between social and romantic cues. Or social cues at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, refocusing himself on his task of subtle eavesdropping.

Asmodeus spoke to her with a firm certainty. “You know I would never steer you wrong. This is still the better option. We both know that.”

“I don’t know that!” Azira retorted, “I don’t know a damn thing about him, Ozz!”

“But you do know who else wants you.” He said ominously, a reminder and warning at the same time.

Azira sighed and let her eyes wander across the room to begrudgingly settle on Alastor. He matched and locked eyes with her again. This time he found himself searching, though he wasn’t entirely sure what for. He saw two irises, one red and one white, holding too many emotions for him to process at once.

He could see the heavy cloud of disappointment.

He could see hatred. Or was it self-hatred?

He saw disgust and disdain.

But what he didn’t, or perhaps couldn’t see… was fear. Quite peculiar, he thought. Most souls would be terrified at the thought of being owned by him. Why wasn’t she?

He wondered what she thought of him. Wondered what sort of impression he had made on her, seeing as the only reaction he’d expected and grown accustomed to, was missing. Truly, he was at a loss for what to make of her altogether. The only thing he was sure of, was the deep seated drive he had to break her.

Azira turned to look at Asmodeus one last time, as if pleading for him to fix this. To stop her from being sold to the Radio Demon.

The Lord of Lust only offered her a firm nod in return, before disappearing in a whirl of flames. She was now alone with Alastor, with her new master.

“Now then!” Alastor broke the heavy silence with a misplaced cheerful tone. “ Azira, you will officially belong to me, once this deal has been made. You will come and go, do and say… as I command, when I command.”

Azira bit back the growl that rose in her throat at the sheer audacity this prick had. As if, she would ever be caught dead playing someone’s house pet. She didn’t offer a response, only hardening the glare she kept fixed on him.

“In exchange, I can promise your safety, and offer you a place to stay where I can… keep an eye on you,” he said with a smirk.

Her blood was boiling. She couldn’t possibly agree to this. Death would be better, she thought.

Maybe she could chase Ozzie down, change her mind and choose the option that resulted in her being murdered, instead. At least then, she could keep some semblance of dignity as she accepted her mandated punishment.

“Do we have a deal?” Alastor reached towards her once again, his unnaturally large hand beckoning for an answer.

“Fine.” She huffed, and tentatively extended her hand out to meet his much larger one.

That was all he needed.

A wide sinister grin split his face, neon green stitches the only thing still keeping it together. His eyes flashed to blood red, ticking dials; his sclera now devoid of all color.

The screams of thousands of trapped souls swirled around them, sending shivers down her spine. She could not see them, but she felt hands. Hands all over her body, pulling at her, begging her to help.

There was nothing she could do. She was one of those trapped souls now.

She gasped as a neon green collar formed around her neck. Her eyes followed as chains of the same glowing material linked together one at a time, until they ended in the closed fist of the Radio Demon.

She instinctively brought both hands up to tug at the collar, a pointless effort, she quickly found. Alastor watched as panic set in, her breathing increasing and eyes going wide.

He found it positively delightful to watch her squirm under the sheer idea of belonging to him. He wondered how long it would take to break that rebellious spirit of hers. To reduce her to nothing but a submissive pet on her knees before him.

Azira squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to whatever forces she could summon, that when she opened them this would all have been nothing but a horrible nightmare.

She kept them closed as she heard her captor continued cackling like some deranged beast. She felt a mist overcome her body, and tendrils of some force that felt both human and nonexistent at the same time. They wrapped around her waist and legs, lifting her off the ground effortlessly.

Her eyes were still sealed shut as she felt her body descend into nothingness, feeling weightlessly heavy. She could still hear the Radio Demon laughing, but the sound was no longer directly in front of her. Every direction seemed to echo his laugh back then her, a cacophony of cruel mockery adding to her sense of helplessness.

She so desperately wanted this to be a nightmare. It had to be…

It wasn’t until her feet hit something solid that she agreed to finally peek them open. Blinking rapidly, her eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh change in light, especially her left eye.

She quickly took in her surroundings, her hand instinctively reaching for the multiple blades she kept in holsters on each thigh. To the left there was a tall iron gate, behind it some kind of massive building atop a steep hill. As her eyes panned to the right, she caught sight of a tall figure moving in her peripheral vision.

She unsheathed a large dagger in her right hand, and plucked two throwing knives in her left, lunging towards the figure. The dark mass itself jumped, somehow seeming startled, before dissipating into the sidewalk.

“Now, now dear,” she heard an unfortunately familiar voice start. Two shadowy hands clamped around her wrists, forcing the angelic steel blades to fall to the ground with a clang.

She yelped in both surprise and pain, “Hey! What the fuck-“

“You won’t be needing these anymore.” Alastor stood directly in front of her, that same stupid grin still on his face. She tried yanking her arms free from the fists holding her captive, turning to see they were made of a shadowy mist rather than flesh and blood. She turned back to him to glare directly through whatever soul he may have had.

Alastor tutted, “Oh come now dear, you didn’t think you were rid of me, did you?” His voice dripping in a fake sickly sweet tone that made her stomach turn.

Azira let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes and turning her head away from him, “I could only hope so.”

He laughed darkly before grabbing her face with one hand, forcing her to look at him, “Unfortunately for you, my dear, that will never happen.”

With every word he grew closer to her face, until she was only inches away from his cold red irises. “You belong to me now.”

She heard a growl come from the shadow behind her, but was unable to turn to see it. She gave a tentative tug at her wrists again, to which the shadow responded by squeezing tighter. She attempted to kick behind her at the shadow, before two more appendages wrapped around her ankles.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her pupils constricting as her body took hold in its familiar fight or flight response. “Good luck trying to tame me.”

His claws dug into the sides of her face, opening her mouth ever so slightly. She took the opportunity and spat at him, a few small droplets landing on his cheek, “You’re going to need it, demon.”

Bringing his free hand up to wipe the offended spot clean, he refused to break eye contact. She was waiting for the laugh she expected to follow, but it never came. He only hummed in contemplation, as he searched her face for something he could use against her. Anything.

He was eager to destroy her hopes of escaping him. She was so sure of herself, to a fault, evidently unconcerned about the consequences of her actions. He needed to break her of that little habit. He wanted to watch as that veil of cockiness fell around her.

He had a feeling she would be a difficult one to crack.

But Alastor hadn’t become the all powerful Radio Demon by backing away from a challenge.

“Darling there’s no need to be hateful. I am merely the consequences of your own actions,” he drawled, very clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve done this to yourself it seems.”

He watched as her glare hardened, before softening as she averted her gaze. She seemed to be dissociating before his eyes, no longer present before him as she let his words sink in.

Ah… so he’d found it…

He sighed and released her face. She opened her mouth to protest, or send off yet another spiteful remark, but was quickly cut off by a shadow hand taking the place of its master's holding her face.

Alastor snapped his fingers, as an ominous green glow began emanating from his index. He swiped his finger across her lips in a loose zig zag formation, leaving behind a trail of glowing green strings.

If she had been able to open her mouth, a frustrated “What the FUCK?!” would’ve tumbled from her lips.

But she couldn’t. Alastor had quite literally sewn her mouth shut, held together with sutures of neon green energy.

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to resort to such extreme measures, but it seems you’ve left me no choice,” he explained with an exaggerated sense of disappointment.

She didn’t buy it for a second, she could tell he loved it. The power he was lording over her and quite literally silencing her with. He was a sick bastard, who got off on making others subservient to him. She was beyond furious, but all she could do was continue to glare at him.

“Now that you’ve been successfully muzzled…” Zira growled and attempted to lunge at him, but was still held captive by the Shadow.

“… I do hope you can behave yourself if we release you. Can you behave, like a good little dear?”

She huffed, and rolled her eyes. Every cell in her body wanted her to fight and continue to be as difficult as possible. But the voice of reason she normally tried to block out, warned her otherwise. This was already going to be a miserable fate, but she needed to play her cards carefully if she wanted to avoid making it harder for herself.

She let her shoulders slump forward and gave a curt nod to the demon.

“Delighted to hear it! Or rather, see it. Because… you know… you’re not exactly on speaking terms right now,” he joked with a sick wink.

She audibly groaned. She would’ve purposely vomited on his shoes at that sad excuse for humor, had her mouth not been sewn shut.

“Now then! I believe it’s time we introduce you to your new home, and the many…” he paused, waving his hand in an effort to find the right word, “…colorful residents that inhabit it.”

She nodded again, and was pleasantly surprised as her arms and legs were released. She rubbed at her red wrists, sending an icy glare at the offending creature and sending it shrieking away into the ground.

Alastor rolled his eyes at his Shadow’s cowardly behavior, and extended an arm towards Azira. She looked at it and then back up to his face as if to say, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

He sighed and lifted it to her yet again, pleading for her to take the hint and allow him to escort her. “You may think me a monster… and you’d be right… but I am still a gentleman.”

She hesitantly looped her arm around his, unsure what to make of his gesture. He had sewn her mouth shut while some strange Shadow restrained her, but now he was going to provide a gentlemanly escort up a hill?

He ignored her perplexed expression, and directed his attention to opening the iron gate in front of him. He began walking up the path, Zira reluctantly hanging on his arm, headed towards the looming building ahead of them.

“Come along now, there’s lots to be done, dear.”

[emkaii]

in a random thought (more like this plot bunny has been living in my head rent free since this "what if" fic started and now i cant stop myself from sharing it after so many months? years? idek)

thank you to @feynites for the wonderful fic above that i continue to go back re-reading again and again

(also tagging @wangxianficrecs even though im not sure they share scum villain fics *sobs*)

! tw: death !

WHAT IF SCENARIO

og!sj dies the night of yqy & lqg wedding because of heartbreak? (because real heartbreak can literally kill in this fanfic universe) just, like, he dies. that's it. no shen yuan to transmigrate in his body as replacement.

so, og!sj was in seclusion punishment during that night right? and he was only allowed outside to attend the wedding itself. (am i right? or if not, meh)

so shen jiu dies in his bedroom, alone. lbh tries to enter his room to help him prepare for the wedding but doesn't get an answer (bc og!sj is ded), so lbh leaves bc he's obviously afraid of entering the room without og!sj's permission in fear of punishment.

the wedding is completed without sj arriving and everyone just assumes that he's bitter about the whole thing and doesn't attend as a show of rebellion.

also, since he's in secluded punishment and the servants doesn't like him, no one approaches or even tries to enter his room. lbh tries to tell the upper servants that it has been almost a full night & day that og!sj hasn't responded to anything outside his room, but of course, they don't listen to him.

so, he tries to directly report to yqy. who at this point is feeling disappointed? relieved? (even he himself doesn't know) that sj did not cause any problems to his new wedding. so, he goes to check on sj.

he tries to ask permission to enter the room, no answer.

tries to lengthen sj's punishment if he continues to be stubborn, no answer.

tries to threaten that he will break the door, no answer.

yqy gets nervous. something doesn't feel right.

sj is not the type to stay quiet.

he forcefully opens the door.

and he finds sj looking peacefully asleep.

but there's something wrong in the picture. sj was too quiet. too still.

yqy realizes that he can't hear sj breathing. he can't see any movement. at all.

he flies to sj's bedside.

tries to take his wrist to check his condition, and whole body-flinches at the cold skin. sj's body was stiff. and as a highly accomplished cultivator, yqy knows the state of a dead body more than a few hours after death.

he whispers, "a-jiu?"

sj' body would look peaceful in death, if not for the dried tear tracks in his face.

(I don't know how to describe/write it but i want yqy's reaction to be utter devastation, something similar or worse than his reaction in this fanfic's og novel when sj died in the original timeline)

minutes or hours later (yqy doesn't know, doesn't know or aware of his surroundings anymore), after mqf arrives and checks the situation after a frantic lbh tells lqg about sj and lqg flies to have mqf at their estate, mqf states:

"his body showed signs of grief sickness. in this case, his lungs decided to stop taking in air, his mind decided to stop all functions of his body, and his heart just decided to stop beating. i can say that it occurred around 24 hours ago."

24 hours ago.

24 hours ago was when sj tried to convince yqy not to proceed with the wedding for his new husband.

24 hours ago was when sj tried to tell yqy that he'd rather die than let yqy have a second husband.

yqy ignored him.

and now a-jiu is dead.

"A-Jiu couldn’t survive his husband marrying another man. That person died the day Yue Qingyuan married Liu Qingge"

AND THIS IS THE LINE FROM THE ORIGINAL FIC THAT INSPIRED THIS PLOT BUNNY.

i really do sometimes love making myself cry with my thoughts and ideas. now im sharing these to the world. and now i want to re-read, for the 8th? 9th? time, this whole wonderful series.

[barrenclan]

OH WOW that was the last cat I was expecting to get ya yoinkyed then again it's been foreshadowed time and time again And honestly? Bit of a hot-take but...I adore how much of a coward Rainhaze is, I looove how he tries to find an explanation or resolve in every single thing because of just how fucked up he is So often in stories like these the one who gets taken advantage of suddenly gets the courage to bare their fangs at the one who feeds, willing to fight for "What's right", so rarely we get someone who's just so fearful of themselves and those around them that they continue to fight for what's wrong like a mindless dog doing their master's bidding Reminds me of Bluestar in some weird way, how she deliberately went with something that was considered "wrong" yet continued to do worse only to get completely scot-free from it in the end (Her getting into a half-clan relationship, have kits, and then proceed to take kits out in winter all alone) And how it was all essentially for nothing and her so-called "sacrifice" was her being so self-absorbed and selfish, believing that she HAD to get rid of her kits so that she can become ThunderClan's next deputy/later leader just so that Thistleclaw couldn't (Outright ignoring ALL the other warriors at the time mind you) This is Rainhaze, he believes what he's doing is right not in an egotistical manner mind you but he's doing it because he's so cowardly of himself and has convinced himself that what he's doing is right, because he is the definition of a coward, he is someone that will do anything hook, line and sinker (Though that's what cults do right, take advantage of mentally-ill people to the point they've forgotten who they are) NEEDLESS TO SAY, I am going to be excited for his death, he's sad and awful and he deserves everything that's gonna be thrown at him, though I suppose I wouldn't mind some form of a redemption arc if he does get one (A proper redemption that isn't him throwing himself off a cliff because "Let me get myself killed for no reason other than to protect you XYZ so you can live with that fact") Wonderful chapter overall and I can't wait for Pinepaw to get further depressed of the fact that his family that WAS just starting to come back together is going to get torn apart as it was once before, WE LOVE MENTAL ILLNESS WOOOOOO

Another excellent Rainhaze analysis!

[siremasterlawrence]

Answer The Call To The Wild

Arab model Adnan Arik is the hottest import yet coming to Los Angeles since I moved their for my career and soon enough I finally met him by chance at one of my meetings with my agent.He is in the literally sitting down in a chair as he stars some down in disgust that I dare to show up and he sighs rolling his eyes when I sat down and I am use to it but this time I had enough.I bend a bit opening my cellphone proceed to tap a app with a spiral logo popping up on the screen and all go sudden he can’t stop staring it as the spiral continues in the middle of the screen. I notice he is staring unmoving leaving me a quick opening to ensnare him as I wave my hand in his face and he stays unemotional and frozen in time I glee with excitement in one click. The camera comes on flashing in his face blaring brightly his face catches him and a message is sent to my agent who automatically uploads in to his mind and he knows what to do. My agent comes from the room calling Tarik to join him as follows him in mindlessly and pats his back before he is turning to me. I flip another app to the side as it opens up a small screen showing what’s going on in the camera I install in the office and Tarik takes a seat. He silently stares into the walls as my agent opens his laptop typing a code and his whole conscious comes to life as he awkwardly awakens thinking he is way to normal. My agent beckons me in when I follow him stopping in back of him as I am placing my hand on his shoulder and I plant a kiss on his cheeks and embrace his cheek with mine.

Adnan Arik is not sure why but he has truly been staying at my place for nearly a week or so but he has gotten use to the idea as he smirks now and truthfully he is happier now than ever. He is awe of me at this very moment kneeling at me feet with a fucking sexy smile on his face and sitting inbetween my legs with utter splendor and frightening delight. He has fallen in love with me so he completely in shock when he notices a new man enters the chat and my agent so right behind him with his arms on his shoulder his name is Tali. Tali Marikash is pretty sexy guy not usually my type except he is handsome beyond what I imagine he could be and he hugs me tight with fake generosity is oddly obvious. I snap my figure as Adnan jumps up with a bright smile he reaches to grab his shoulders and shoving him down as they struggle and finally Adnan falls to the ground. Tali’s neck is held up facing me as he forced to look in the camera in a matter of seconds the flash goes of and the app starts spinning our control and his mind is recalibrating. “Master Lawrence is a God among men, someone I completely have lost my self too, I swoon at his Godly glorious and he is everything that to me my life.” Tali replies mindlessly with a short and bated breath as he goes my waist in his hands and kisses my hands letting my hypnotic words sink in forever because he is my property. “Sir Yes Master Lawrence I live for you the Maestro of this universe and the kingdom of the one who rules this planet that we live in even though you are not willing to admit it.

My acting agent Johnathan Jackson Majors Wells is at my apartment after bringing me my two bois are worshipping me to not end I might add and he leans in touching my chin kissing me. His arms lifting into the airs land on my waist wrapping it tightly as he is truly pulling me closer and matches my lips with his as we make out kissing. I brush him to the side as he drags, paws and scratches me doing his best to come even closer to me with love and we kiss again but I ignore him. I lose myself for a bit grabbing his own camera as I tell him to smile and pose for me as the camera flashing it in his face and he stops shaking in fear and reprogramming is going on. I instruct him to set on the lawn chair using my finger to move my finger all over and he follows me very obedient as I snap my fingers as he keeps over falling to the side. His back he fell back on to the lawn chair in to my arms as I kiss him on the neck and I rock him to side whispering him down into nothing. “Listen to me my pet Jackson because you know I am right as always I am always right simply because I will it to be and so therefore you do not question me.” He humbles himself drops into my arms yet again as he slips down further ito chair and he melts into my arms crumbling into my body and he falls permanently in love. “You are madly into me so in love with me Jonathan my dear.You know that right?”

“Take this liquor from my hand Jonathan it is for the best, that is take it from my hand right now and take a sip please. Place at your lips that’s to go be a tip on the lips and sip it taste every fiber of my being I poured in to it.” He placeshis lips on to the martini glass tipping it over as it goes down pouring it into his throat as it it doing it’s job. The taste radiates down his throat as it burns leaving a lasting impressive of my power because he has fully accepted it that he belong to me. “I am your main guy the star you worship, glorify, serve, obey and submit to him because he is your greatest power and asset in existence to you.” I continue to whisper this into his ears I begin to kiss cheeks slowly going down his neck once more touching every inch of his body as he squirms. “Sir Yes Master I owe you my life my Master Lawrence since I surrender toyou because you have lifted me into the air swooped me up into your arms since I am at your behest.” He says spin about stare into my eyes lovingly as he sides off of me hitting the floor with his feet and feeling my body up learning to worship every inch of my body. I am proud of my work picking up my hand mirror on my side showing him my work and he is lost in awe of my power at the sight of the fact he has been de-aged.

“Who are these two muscle bound apes”

“Who are you speaking to?”

“What the fuck?”

“Take a picture”

“Flash! Can you hear me?”

“Yyyyeeeessss”

“Yyyyeesss”

“Kneel now”

“In my eyes is the key “

“Stare away “

“Get lost in my life”

“Resist all else “

“I am your life force”

“What you breath “

“What you eat”

“What you crave”

“I am yours “

“You can’t deny it “

The end

[ilygetou]

PANTY STEALING + STEPCEST — J. KIRSTEIN.

PAIRING: step brother! jean x fem! reader.

CONTENT + WARNING: panty sniffing, panty stealing, slight gropping, dub con, very slight edging, size kink, non con creampie, jean is a tease, not proofread, short n’ sweet.

NOTE: kinda of rushed? i saw how i only wrote 9 kinks 4 kinktober and that kinda bothered me so i had this written in less than 10-15 minutes :)).

you were his sweet sister, his little sister. So what he has been doing is wrong, jean knows that, he knows that stealing your panties & using them to get off is wrong, sniffing your panties while lewd thoughts of you flood his mind. Fuck, jean thinks he’s insane, having perverted thoughts about his little step sister.

But he can’t help it, can’t help thinking about you in an inappropriate way. You were just way too cute, the way you wear tight tops without a bra & having your nipples harden under the cold breeze, or you wearing shorts that hug your ass so perfectly, or wearing skimpy dresses that hug every curve in your body so perfectly.

jean sighs, making his way into your bedroom as you were busy taking a shower. looking through your dirty laundry to find that one pink panty that is always stained with your slick. that pair is his favorite, it makes him cum faster.

once he finds it, jean proceeds to bring it closer to his face and takes a long sniff from it, letting out a satisfied sigh — jean continues to take long sniffs from lacy pink fabric. not noticing the time, you suddenly enter your bedroom with jean still in there. A towel wrapped around your body, your hair was wet — small water droplets covering the wood tile.

once you notice jean, you let out a low gasp before your eyes wandered to what he was holding, you felt your throat go dry.

“j-jean? what’re you doing here?” you managed to say, jean felt himself freeze in his place. He got caught, fuck. He got caught sniffing your fucking panties, what’s more embarrassing than that? jean couldn’t manage to utter one word, too embarrassed & shocked to speak.

“jean?” you say again, this time walking closer to your brother. Jean watched you through half lidded eyes walking towards him, your tits slightly visible from the way you have your towel wrapped so loosely around your body.

“i– um, listen I can —” jean cut himself off once you were now standing right in front of him, getting a better view of your body. Jean slowly gulps before his hand reaches to yours, and without any hesitation jean suddenly pulls you into him. Your body is now pressing against jean.

your breath hitches once you feel jeans hands on your breasts, groping & playing with them. Jean doesn’t have any control over his body right now. he makes you lose your grip on your towel, your naked body now visible to him.

“no no, jean what’re you doing…?” you sniff, looking at your brother with doe eyes — a pout on your lips as you let him touch you in an inappropriate way. “fuck — ’m so sorry sis, can’t control myself — you’re just way too hot, you understand that right?” jean mutters, before placing your hands on his growing bulge causing your eyes to widen.

jean pins you on your bed, his hands in-between your thighs, his fingers running through your wet folds. “you’re wet…is getting your tits toyed with turn you on?” jean snickers, as he watches tears starting to cover your lash line. “oh no, don’t cry pretty, your big brother is going to take good care of you, okay?” jean kisses your forehead before tugging down his pants, his cock hitting his abdomen. His mushroom tip leaking with so much pre, thick veins running alongside his length.Your brother was big.

“don’t even have to prep you, ye’r dripping” jean chuckles, pushing the tip of his cock past your folds — making you let out a muffled scream. “j-jean! b-big… can’t take it, please!” you whine, your brother ignoring your pleads — jolting his hips against yours, his cock throbbing inside your cunt as your walls start to tighten around his length.

“feel so good, shit —” jean cusses, continuing his fast pace, abusing your cunt with every thrust of his hips. His cock way too deep inside you, hitting your womb repeatedly. Jean brings his finger & pinches your clit, causing you to moan out his name, loudly.

“jean! j-jeann! c-close!” jeans pace starts to slow down, making you let out desperate whines. “do ya’ want to cum, sis? you have to beg for it, beg for my cock.” you let out low sobs, desperate to reach your very much needed orgasm.

“want your cock j-jean! please! please need your cock!” jean smirks, your face covered with tears & drool, voice cracking from the begging you’re doing.

jean goes back to his fast pace, positioning your ankles on his shoulder — allowing him to push his dick deeper inside you, pace fast & mercilessly. “aw, is my cock too big for you baby?” jean teases as you cry & sob while he thrusts so roughly into you.

“so b-big! jean, gonna cum!” jeans breathing’s heavens as he was getting closer to his climax. “c-cumming!” with another moan of your brother’s name you came around his girth, “fuck yeah baby, cream around my dick like that” jean coos, thrusting his cock in & out of your sopping cunt.

“can i cum inside you, sis? want to fill you up with my seeds, pretty please?” jean pleads, only for you to reply with a bunch of nos & shaking your head in denial, “noo! pull out, jean p-please!” you beg only for jean to ignore you.

with a slight twitch of his cock, jeans lets out spurts of his thick, warm cum deep inside your cunt. a growl leaves jean before pulling out & watching his seeds drip out, you were laying down & sobbing, “don’t cry, ’m sorry princess, so sorry, i love you, don’t cry” jean tries to comfort you, voice soft as ever.

after so many comforting words by jean, you finally stopped crying. Sitting up & wiping your tears, jean pulls you closer to him, wiping your remaining tears with his thumb before he pulled you into a quick kiss, “it’s gonna be okay y/n, trust me” jean whispers & you reply by burying yourself into his chest, too tired to think of a response.

[kharia-adarkim]

Freedom

Fordola sighed as the telltale crimson hue of sunset crept into the prison halls. Pulling a stone from beneath her cot, she scraped another line into the wall. Five days since her last visit. Fordola sighed. The Warrior of Light's visits had become her one comfort in the prison cell. Each day for over a month since the Lakshmi incident, the two of them talked - about their childhoods, about recent news, about Kharia's forays into somanoutics. Sometimes their conversations had no words at all, and the two simply sat in each others' presence, sharing their feelings through the Echo. Kharia had been teaching her to control this power, to prevent her from being overwhelmed by it, and for that Fordola was grateful - being able to shut out the guards' contempt for her made the stay more tolerable. But like everything else, Fordola reasoned, even that bit of peace had to end. She sighed and laid on her cot, waiting for sleep to take her.

The vivid clank of keys echoing down the hall caused Fordola to lift her head, stirring from her near-rest. Her hopes faded as she heard the shuffle of four - no, five - pairs of feet proceed down the hallway. The footsteps were heavy, and carried the telltale jingle of mail. She silently cursed herself for getting her hopes up. Of course the slayer of Zenos had moved on. She was a fool for getting accustomed to the silver lining to this monotony.

"Fordola rem Lupus," a man declared to the bars of her cell. She looked up in confusion. It sounded like...

"Raubahn?" she sneered, "what're you wasting your time on me for? Finally time to let the mob have their way?"

"Many in the city have called for your head," Lyse replied.

"Indeed. But if we're to build a new Ala Migho founded on justice, we must resist the siren song of revenge," Raubahn continued. "Lyse, myself, and many others have spent many long nights discussing your sentence. Your crimes against the people of Ala Migho are many, and-"

"Oh stuff it," Fordola interrupted, "I've lost track of the days I've spent in this cell, and my only visitor's gone without a trace. Put me out of my bloody misery already." She glared at each of them in turn - Raubahn, M'naago, Lyse... As she locked eyes with the girl, Fordola's resonance flared, and she felt... smugness? Amusement? Was she enjoying Fordola's torment? "Well?!" she shouted. "Out with it! You're here to sentence me to death, is that it?!"

"No Fordola," Raubahn answered. "That may have been in the cards at one point, but you saved a great many lives from Lakshmi. It wouldn't be right to repay that kindness with death. Your sentence is not execution, but exile." Fordola stood silent in a mix of relief and confusion. Raubahn continued his speech. "We've someone waiting outside to escort you out of the city. Barring express invitation of the government of Ala Migho, beginning sunrise tomorrow, you are not to set foot upon her soil, nor will her laws protect you from those to whom this verdict may seem unsatisfactory." He nodded to one of the guards, who unlocked the door to her cell. Fordola simply stood in place, trying to reconcile her emotions. She'd spent her whole life fighting for a better future in Ala Migho, and upon Zenos's death, resigned herself to her own impending demise. What relief she may have felt on learning she was to live was soured by the knowledge that she had naught left to live for. Eventually, she shuffled from her cell with some prodding from the guard.

"Just so you know," M'naago hissed from behind as they began their walk to the surface, "I was against this. But you had someone unbearably persuasive in your corner. You owe her." Fordola's brow furrowed in confusion. A few minutes later, the vanguard opened the rear door of the prison, and Fordola and the others filed outside.

"Are one of you two my escort?" she asked the guards of their entourage, who ignored her as they unlocked her shackles. Fordola rubbed her sore wrists.

"No, that'd be me," a voice replied from nearby. Fordola looked to the source, and saw a small, bespectacled auri woman in an emerald gown. The woman kept a level gaze with her for a few moments before cracking a grin. "I told you I was going to get you out of that prison," Kharia smiled sadly. "I'm... sorry, that this is how it played out. I know how much Ala Migho means to you. But several of the officials involved were adamant that letting you free to roam the city would undermine trust in the new government. I hope you can forgive me." Kharia placed a hand on Fordola's shoulder. Though the woman's face was stoic, Kharia could feel the conflicted feelings poring over her through the echo. Knowing she'd never crack, especially in front of the likes of Lyse and Raubahn, Kharia pulled her into an embrace and whispered into her ear, "Let's get you home. A new home. With me." Fordola was quiet a moment.

"Fine," she answered softly, "let's get out of here." Kharia wiped the precious few tears from Fordola's face and waved to the Ala Mighans assembled.

"We'll be out of your hair now. Thank you." Kharia said to the others. M'naago rolled her eyes.

"It's not as if we could refuse a request from the one who freed our nation from the grip of the empire," Raubahn chuckled. "Safe travels."

"Have fun," M'naago growled, "I hope I never see you again."

"Mutual," Fordola answered, grabbing Kharia's wrist. "Let's get out of here."

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Confrontation Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 对抗之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Additional warning]: ig it’s not a surprise at this point for Victor’s spicy dates LOL, but yeah, considering the vivid explicitness, if you don’t qualify for the 16+ rating of the game (CN server), it’s recommended that you don’t proceed under the cut~ :>

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

──

【Subbed Video: Date + Calls】

[Heads Up]: WATCH THE VIDEO AKSWKASDN!!! yes do read the transcript version for yk “reading,” but DO WATCH THE VIDEO FOR THE LOVE OF—— 👁️🫦👁️

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【Transcript】

【Chapter 1】

Victor: I advise you to think this through.

Donning a calm gaze, I walk leisurely through the cluster of bushes to Victor, enduring my laughter as I glance at his hands that are restrained behind his back.

MC: I was simply waving my hand just now. How did CEO Victor accidentally “fall into the trap”?

MC: And I have thought this through~ I’m just playing the game. Weren’t you the one who told me to blow off the steam as much as I like?

I gently caress his cheek, and my smile grows even brighter under his intense scrutinizing gaze.

After several months of continuous overtime work, my entire soul was consumed by a desire for vindictive entertainment.

As a way to relax, I found a new type of role-playing game that involves engaging in confrontations with other players. Over the course of three days, the players are to be divided into factions and compete for points by fighting for props inside a manor––

And naturally, Victor was dragged into it by me.

We teamed up with several college couples to form a group of eight. Each couple split up and joined one of the two teams, which meant that I ended up on the “opposing side” of Victor.

MC: Where did you hide your metal name tag? The rules state that you must carry it with you at all times.

Victor: I threw it away.

I narrow my eyes as I look up at him, while my hands don’t stop their motion of feeling around his chest and arms.

MC: Aw, it wouldn’t be fun if you were to do that.

Victor: I suggest you unlock the lock behind me right now.

MC: Well, I suggest you don’t make that suggestion~

Not satisfied with just this, I lift myself on my toes and softly peck on his slightly pursed lips.

MC: I’ll release you when I’ve found it.

Although Victor isn’t very keen on this game, I still concentrate on not missing any corners to prevent him from playing any tricks.

I slow down my movements and half-cling to him, feeling his blazing body temperature and the growing tension of his muscles slowly seeping through the thin fabric.

Shirt pockets, jacket’s inner pockets, back collar… I search through every corner of his upper body and still find nothing.

However, I hesitate for only a second before guiding my hand downward.

Victor: MC.

Victor: How much longer do you want to keep playing?

I deliberately ignore that increasingly intense stare and, with a completely innocent expression, reach out behind him with my hand––

My fingertips slide into the pocket of his suit pants, and I immediately feel a metallic touch wrapped in the warmth inside.

MC: Wouldn’t it have been better if you had told me just then?

Smiling, I withdraw my hand and look at the metal plate with the name “Victor” engraved on it. I then take out my game phone and scan the QR code on its backside––

“Player “MC” has gained 20 points, and Player “Victor” has lost his name tag.”

MC: Hehe, thanks for your cooperation.

I complacently pin his name tag to my chest and pantomime fixing the bangs falling in front of his eyes.

Victor: You wanna win that badly?

MC: When an opportunity presents itself, of course one should seize it.

MC: I joined forces with my teammates to deal with you specially. And as I thought, it was easily done.

This small victory causes me to feel a little smug and elated, but Victor suddenly breaks into laughter.

Victor: [chuckles softly]  I didn’t think I’d be so easy to deal with in your eyes.

MC: You can’t say that. I know that Vic gēge(*) is going easy on me. After all, you’ve never been interested in this kind of activity.

MC: It just so happens that this manor is perfect for a vacation. As Pudding’s dad, you should take this opportunity for a good break, “Pudding Senior.”

—

[Tidbits]: (*) as you might’ve already guessed, yes, MC calls him “泽言哥哥” (ZéYán gēge) here, the name MC used to call him when they were kids. For those unaware, when a Chinese girl addresses a boy as gēge (an intimate term of address), if not used to address her own older brother, she’d use it to address her boyfriend~ and the reason it got both Victor and MC flustered the first time they reminisced in Preference SP~ (//∇//) 

You can refer to this post for more details: ♡♡

—

As I say this, I gently run my fingertips over his chin, then check the time again before turning around and preparing to leave.

MC: The mechanism will automatically unfasten you after two minutes. See you later, CEO Victor!

Victor: Do you know why this game has a fixed time every day?

I’m stunned momentarily, then turn around to look at him.

Victor is shrouded in the shade beneath the tree, lifting his chin slightly. Both his hands are clearly bound behind his back, but he seems to be relaxed, as if he is merely in a dormant state.

MC: Because it’s exhausting to be on high alert all the time, right? We’re all here to have fun, so we shouldn’t put the cart before the horse.

Victor: And do you know…

Victor: What’s the reason behind this game’s three-day duration?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

  —

【Chapter 2】

[Fair Warning in advance]: From here onwards, Victor blushes PRACTICALLY THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE DATE. As tempted as I am, it’s not possible to include over 60+ blushing sprites, so I’m just giving y'all a heads up LMAO~ \(//∇//)\

──────────────────

With only a two-minute window to escape, I naturally don’t waste that time engaging in confrontation with Victor.

I know precisely what the three-day duration is for–– as long as the game is not over, there will still be possibilities to fight to retrieve our possessions.

MC: [to herself]  This man doesn’t take the game that seriously anyway. If I go and stay with him after 5 pm, it should be alright…

As I calculate in my mind, I run towards the meeting point previously agreed on with my team. But before I can spot anyone, I’m dumbfounded by a string of notifications on my phone.

MC: How come both of you lost your name tags?

Qian Er: …my boyfriend! This scumbag! He duped me!

Lei Zi: My wife also totally f*cked me over…

–

[Tidbits]: He is addressing his girlfriend as “my wife” btw haha~ 

–

At this moment, I finally understand why the game organizers separated the couples…

MC: It’s okay. I’ve got the name tag. Our next step is to reclaim the ones we lost. And for that, everyone needs to work together as much as possible.

Xiao Xin: However, although the game time is from 9 am to 5pm, there is still a possibility of being “converted to rebel” during the break time…

Another boy in the team speaks up in concern.

Xiao Xin: I propose that for these three days, we all should refrain from meeting our partners in private. Otherwise, we will have to watch out not only for the opposite side but also for our own people.

Lei Zi: You’re right. I think if my wife tries to “convert me to rebel,” I’ll easily fall for it.

Qian Er: I’m all for it! The lovey-dovey brain must leave Loveland City!

Xiao Xin & Lei Zi & Qian Er: For victory!

MC: …

Are college students all so competitive these days!

As the three youngsters shift their gazes at me, I feel an invisible pressure coming over me. I blink and immediately raise my hands.

MC: …no problem.

—

In order to firmly adhere to the philosophy of victory, our team members remain together throughout the entire dinner time after the first day of the game.

Victor shoots a faint glance in my direction from afar. And I, encircled by several of my teammates, have no choice but to put my palms together in apology to him.

—

I’ve been unable to find a single opportunity to talk with him all night. After returning to the room, I fiddle with the phone specifically designed for the game.

MC: …I should be able to make calls with this thing, right?

But who knew there would be a knock at the door before I could even look into Victor’s contact number?

Subconsciously thinking it’s the girl from my team with whom I made plans to meet in the evening, I casually open the door without so much as a second thought.

To my surprise, I see Victor’s face instantly appearing in my line of sight. We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds, and at this moment, the air seems to be stagnant.

The next second, my heart suddenly skips a beat. After nervously scanning the surroundings, I immediately pull him into the room and close the door.

MC: Why are you here?

Victor: Why am I here?

He repeats my words unhurriedly, crossing his arms across his chest.

MC: …hehe, let me explain.

I briefly recap to him our team’s strategy for winning.

MC: Everyone was so serious at the time, so I couldn’t say no.

Victor: I can see that your enthusiasm is no less than that of those college students.

Victor: [sounds so wronged]  In order to implement your strategy, it seems like it’d be more appropriate for me to leave so as not to affect your leading-by-example image.

With a smile, I hastily wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in to peck him on the lips.

MC: Don’t leave, don’t leave! You and I came out here to have fun together. And I certainly am very clear on who is more important to me.

MC: I was thinking about calling you just now!

Victor: Really?

Victor’s expression remains unchanged as he snakes one hand around the back of my waist.

Victor: I don’t see any signs of that.

MC: Then you aren’t looking closely enough. Examine more carefully.

Beneath the dim yellowish light, the magnified shadows on the wall merge seamlessly, not leaving the slightest gap between each other.

As my fingertips dig into the back of his shirt collar, I simultaneously take the initiative to meet his slightly pursed, thin lips, softly pecking them twice.

Victor: [blushing + sexy whisper]  This little sweetness is not enough.

His voice follows the rhythm of our exchanged breaths and enters my mind, causing everything to slow down and amplify every subtle touch.

MC: Wait, my teammate will be here soon. We can’t let her catch…

A kiss forcefully cuts me off, swallowing up all the unfinished words.

The hot and moist tips of our tongues intertwine with each other. He brands a rough, grainy sensation between my sensitive lips and teeth, bringing a hint of punishment.

I instinctively tilt my head back slightly, wallowing in the haze of this dimness.

In the scorching and stuffy world, there seems to be something gently coming through.

Qian Er: …sis, it’s me, Qian Er. Are you there?

The sound of knocking on the door rings out. I hear Qian Er’s voice, who was originally supposed to come looking for me, coming from outside.

My whole body shudders in surprise. Amidst the powerful predation, I suddenly regain some of my sanity.

MC: [blushing]  Victor… she is here.

Victor: [blushing + raspy whisper]  I heard it.

His voice is lethally cloying, but his overly scorching lips swim down my cheeks to the tip of my ear, nibbling without the slightest concern.

Victor: [flushed cheeks + slyly hoarse whisper]  You need to be careful… we can’t get caught.

He deliberately repeats what I said earlier. But his soft reminder is akin to the coaxing temptation of a devil, accompanied by his heavy breaths that make my world heat up unceasingly.

Qian Er: Are you not there? You wouldn’t happen to have gone to look for...

MC: [blushing + to the girl]  …I am here!

With great difficulty, I suppress the gasp that’s on the verge of escaping me. Then I struggle to crane my head and sink my teeth into his neck.

Though the subtle bite marks are not entirely clear, they do elicit a slightly insatiable chuckle from this wicked man before me.

MC: [blushing + to the girl]  I was just… taking a shower, so I couldn’t hear you.

Qian Er: Should I come back after you’ve fixed yourself up, then?

The man in front of me slightly arches an eyebrow. And in the next second, he turns even more oblivious as he continues with his bullying. He plants incredibly lingering and gentle kisses, tracing his way up from my collarbones to my neck and upwards.

MC: [blushing + to Victor]  You…

Victor: [flushed cheeks + brEaThEs literally into your ear]  She said she would come back later.

The arm half-supporting me lifts slightly upwards again, making it even easier for him to lean his head sideways and nibble on my throat.

Qian Er: Sis?

Victor: [flushed cheeks + even raspier, proud tone]  You should give her an answer.

My brain has turned into a lump of mush, and I decide to surrender before things escalate any more “out of hand.”

MC: [blushing + to the girl]  I’m feeling a bit light-headed from the shower… Sorry, can we talk tomorrow? I’d like to go to bed a little earlier tonight.

I struggle immensely to get to the end of my sentence, and through gritted teeth, I capture a few glimmers of laughter in that pair of dark and silent eyes.

Qian Er: Sis, rest up then~ Good night, sis~

The footsteps outside the door gradually fade away. I clench my molar teeth and firmly grab onto his front collar.

MC: Are you getting back at me for what I did during the day?

Victor: [flushed cheeks + torrid breath]  This doesn’t count.

The instigator of this episode blends his words ambiguously into his kisses, with a hint of deep meaning flashing in his eyes.

Victor: [flushed cheeks]  Didn’t you just make it clear who is more important to you?

Victor: [flushed cheeks]  I merely took your words for it, that’s all.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

  —

【Chapter 3】

The next day, I purposely time my arrival at the front yard of the villa to avoid coinciding with Victor’s.

The other members of his team have already set off earlier, leaving only Victor, who is sitting leisurely on the sofa and flipping through a magazine.

Meeting that toneless gaze of his, I blow him a kiss from the back of the group and happily embark on my journey.

—

Today’s game proceeds smoothly beyond expectations. Relying on Lei Zi’s excellent intuition, we’ve actually found all the individuals who were separately ambushing us in different corners of the manor one by one.

“Player “Zhou Lei” gains 20 points, Player “Zhao Xin” gains 20 points…”

Qian Er: That was incredibly easy… but Lei Zi, your girlfriend’s gaze just now looked like she was gonna eat you alive.

Lei Zi: I’ll just kneel on the keyboard when I get home. It’s not a big deal.

Xiao Xin: Still, we shouldn’t let our guards down. After all, they can still snatch back the name tags.

Xiao Xin: There’s no camera in the entire manor. There are way more blind spots than we can possibly imagine…

While Xiao Xin is gesturing with his hands and contemplating the safest hiding spots on the map of the manor, Lei Zi quietly approaches me from the side.

Lei Zi: Sis, I wanna ask you for a favor.

MC: Hm?

Lei Zi: I have a special solo mission that requires the help of someone from the team... Could you help me?

Upon hearing this special invitation, I immediately perk up my ears with excitement.

MC: Sure! What do you need me to do?

—

MC: That’s odd…

I meticulously examine the surrounding area of the fountain pool, but don’t spot anything out of the ordinary.

MC: The spot Lei Zi said should be here…

I circle the place again, but still find nothing.

The water in the fountain continuously flows outward and forms cascading water curtains that carry the spraying water droplets, creating blooming specs of light under the dazzling sunlight.

I gaze quietly for a long time. Unwilling to give up, I crouch down and carefully fumble around the pool’s perimeter once again.

Suddenly, I inadvertently touch a stone, causing it to tilt slightly–– the water from the fountain ceases its flow in the next second, revealing a set of steps leading to a stone staircase at the center of the fountain.

MC: So it turns out that the stone steps were not just for decorative purposes...!

My eyes widen in amazement, and I walk up to the stone pillar at the center of the fountain, reaching out my hand to search for any special props––

“Click.”

As I watch the mechanism appear once again, the smile on my face is wiped off completely. A rubber ring suddenly emerges on the surface of the pillar, trapping my hand in place!

MC: …?!

Before I can react, a powerful force grabs my other wrist and swiftly flips me over, pinning my wrist next to the rubber ring.

“Click.”

All of this happens within a matter of moments. It’s not until both my hands are bound behind my back that I begin to comprehend the situation, staring wide-eyed at the person who is now standing in front of me.

MC: …how did you get here?

Victor: I’ve been here the whole time. You were just too slow to act.

Folding his arms across his chest, he leans down slightly to meet my eye level, looking at me teasingly.

The alarm bells in my head are ringing frantically, and a strange thought suddenly rushes to my mind, causing me to swallow nervously.

MC: Could it be that you...

Victor: Otherwise, how do you think he was able to locate everyone?

Victor: And why were they all on their own?

MC: When did you talk to Lei Zi…?

Victor: [chuckles lightly]  That’s not something you need to be concerned about.

He lifts his hand and presses on something unbeknownst to me, causing the pool’s fountain to activate again.

The cascading water curtain gushes outward, creating a hazy veil that envelops us within. Instinctively, I am gripped by a sense of looming danger approaching in silence.

Victor is in complete control of this series of actions. He first made his own teammates separate, then found an opportunity to make a deal with Lei Zi––

–– and tricked me into coming here.

The manor is designed to allow players’ evasion activities, and as a result, there are numerous concealed hiding spots. And Victor knows me all too well to know that I would be intrigued by these interesting features.

He is too patient a hunter, creating the opportunity to win by striking just one blow, biting the throat of his prey in an instant.

MC: Victor, you duped me!

Victor: This extent of action doesn’t really count as duping someone.

Victor: It’s just a fitting way to blow off the steam, is all.

MC: But by doing this... your team will lose.

Victor: I have no interest in winning or losing this game.

He gently lifts his hand, caressing the “Victor” name tag pinned on my chest.

Victor: And besides, I guess you’re forgetting… it’s only the second day.

Victor: Where’s your name tag?

His dry fingertips glide slowly up my breasts, passing over my neck and caressing my cheek.

—

[Notes]: bruh they really just straight went for “前胸” (breasts)— not even caring to use short/refined phrasing like 胸/心口 LMAO 🙏

—

MC: …pinned it inside the left pant leg.

Victor: [!! elated chuckle]  There’s no need to be so honest.

Victor: It’d be hard to find us here, so we still have plenty of time.

The powerful fingertips lift my chin slightly, causing the falling droplets of water to be sprinkled finely, only to have this cold sensation be melted away by the extremely intimate proximity of his breath.

He rubs his lips against mine slowly and deliberately, neither delving too deeply nor drawing back too far. 

The unbearable touch feels as if my entire body is being lifted into the air. The damp mist of the water stream spreads around us, bringing our closely pressed skin even closer together.

Water droplets drip down his gently fluttering eyelashes onto my upper lip, then roll along the folds of our lips as they caress against each other, finally entering our intertwined lips and teeth.

MC: …getting back at me… you’re so petty! Evil capitalist…!

Victor has done a full circle and repeated every detail of what I did to him yesterday.

Victor: [flushed cheeks + raspiest of whispers x1]  Naturally, the capitalist has to pay back twice the amount.

Victor: [flushed cheeks + x2]  Also, there’s only one cat at home, and that’s Pudding.

—

[Notes]: LMFAAOOO THIS MAN!!! For those who didn’t get it– at the beginning of the date, MC addressed Victor as “Pudding’s Dad, Pudding Senior,” suggesting that he is her big clingy cat, which he 110% is LOL. But he “begs to differ” ‘cause as he showed just now, feline it may be, but he is still the beast “Lion” 😩🤣

—

His muffled words are intertwined with my heavy panting, reminiscent of a predatory beast patiently teasing its prey that it has captured.

In the long time that we’ve been together, I’ve become too accustomed to him, and in his tacit acquiescence, I would brazenly play with his “belly” without any reservations.

But he’s never been an indolent kitty.

MC: Y-you propose a term… let’s talk.

Victor: [flushed cheeks + the most seductively provocative of whispers]  What capital do you have to negotiate terms with me?

The teasing I capture in his eyes itches me so much that I can’t resist biting him. But this only causes the smile in his eyes to brew even deeper in response.

MC: Just- you- wait.

Victor: [flushed cheeks + chuckles]  That vigor is good.

He finally draws a few steps back, then crouches down and finds my name tag with ease.

Victor scans the QR code and affixes the “MC” engraved name tag to his chest majestically. He then turns around after switching off the fountain, preparing to leave.

MC: Why don’t you take your name tag too?

Victor: I’m just leaving an excuse.

Stepping on the stairs, he haughtily turns his head sideways.

Victor: [chuckles softly]  So you won’t be too bored tomorrow.

—

Victor and I, in a sense, have returned to our starting line again.

Although we don’t sit together at dinner, we both wear each other’s name tags on our chests, creating an indescribable romantic tension.

Lei Zi doesn’t dare to make eye contact with me all evening, and I don’t wish to haggle with him, either.

—

On the third day, it becomes obvious that the other side has received Victor’s instructions and has grown more structured in their approach.

As the dominant side, our countermeasure is for everyone else to stay hidden till the last moment, while I––

I keep my eyes locked on Victor from afar across the dense bushes, provocatively maintaining a distance of about ten meters from him at all times.

—

Following several pulling and tugging, I manage to hide in a flower house, intending to catch my breath.

However, the next second, there is a rustling sound outside the window. I hear the person with a steady stride approaching, treading on the broken leaves.

Victor: Think you’ve chosen a good spot?

Beneath the hot sunlight, a few flower petals float down from between Victor’s fingers. He grips the railing of the flower window with one hand, while his fingertips insert themselves into the flower’s pistil.

—

[Tidbits]: The female organs of a flower are collectively called “花蕊”/ pistil, comprising of stigma, style and ovary. (!!! yeah reference to that innuendo of “the rose and the white thingie” in the PV)~ 💦🙏

—

His piercing gaze is even more intense than the sunlight, locking straight onto me. Even though clearly we are physically apart from each other, his imposing presence is still palpable.

His slender forearm may have been scratched by the thorns of the bushes, leaving a few glaring blood marks. But Victor remains unfazed, as if it were merely a minor price to be paid in the process.

MC: CEO Victor, aren’t you asking a question you already know the answer to?

This is too foul an approach to entice someone in this way to have them walk right into your trap.

MC: After all, you didn’t want me to run away again, did you?

—

[Tidbits]: MC switches to “您” here, which is the courteous term for “you” in Chinese, amplifying her bitterness LMAO~

—

Victor: The door is right there. You can leave if you want.

He raises his eyebrows, revealing all his bright schemes with unparalleled frankness.

MC: Will that cause too much loss for CEO Victor?

Victor: Unexpected opportunities like this always provide a chance to encounter the next one.

Victor: As long as you consider the aftermath, it’ll be fine.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

  —

【Chapter 4】

Deflating my mouth, I tie the gauze on Victor’s arm into a knot, then look around the flower room without making it obvious. Finally, I shift my eyes again to my other party’s cool and collected face.

MC: You sign documents worth tens of billions with this hand. You need to be more careful.

–

[Tidbits]:MC uses “您” (the courteous term for “you”), here too LMAO~

–

MC: Ugh, my plan has been ruined. I wonder if a certain Mr. CEO would be as kind-hearted as me?

Victor: Your little thoughts are almost all written on your forehead.

Victor: Your plan is simply to have those college students hide while you stall for time, and then launch a surprise attack when the countdown is almost over.

MC: Since you were already aware of this, why did you still chase after me?

Victor: [delighted laugh]  Because your ruses are enough to make me look forward to them.

An undisguised arrogance climbs up the corners of his lips, and he unhurriedly pulls back the rolled-up sleeve to his wrist. The light in his dark-colored pupils reflects my figure.

This arrogant stance arouses my fighting spirit completely. I compose myself and pantomime leaning toward him.

MC: I never thought CEO Victor would have such a wicked side to him. Shouldn’t it be the prey who is to bite in the first place?

Victor: Whether it’s done at the beginning or end makes no difference. Hunting has always been meant to be a deadly struggle between two opponents on equal footing.

Victor: In the face of a predetermined outcome, the process only enriches the ending.

His fingertips twirl themselves around the ends of my hair, making a circular motion in the air.

I gaze at him for a long time. Then propping myself up, I place my hands on both sides of his head, lowering my eyes to him.

MC: Have you ever considered that doing this would expose you to the risk of me biting your throat?

Victor: I never turn down any challenge.

Victor: Especially when it’s from you.

MC: Is that right?

I lower my head to his neck and, without the slightest hesitation, open my mouth and gently nibble on his prominent Adam’s apple.

He seems to have not anticipated that I’d be so decisive, causing his entire body to quiver instinctively.

I crinkle my eyes and silently concentrate on deepening the mark.

By the time I lift my head, the teeth marks are clearly imprinted on his Adam’s apple, shimmering with a light sheen of moisture.

MC: How does it feel to have someone bite your throat?

The answer I receive is a fiercely wild kiss.

Victor’s hand suddenly presses down, causing me to be caught off guard and collide with his teeth.

All the unspoken words between us are shattered into fragments in the entangled exploration. The rapid breaths entwined with the moist sound of water flood my entire sensory world.

My scorching breaths are constantly being swallowed up by his kisses. But I don’t simply want to sink into this passively. Instead, I stubbornly entangle myself back.

Whether it’s a conspiracy or a bright scheme, when faced with absolute power, you must show your strength.

The palm clasped around the back of my neck continues to exert force, allowing the predator to unceasingly penetrate deeper unchallenged. At the same time, I also step on his thigh and move up a little bit, causing him to release a hot and muffled moan.

My fingertips advance on his chest, and in the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the phone that has been tossed aside.

14:59.

I kiss him even harder, counting down in my mind––

And just before the number is about to change, I suddenly yank off the name tag on his chest and hold it up over my head.

MC: I’ve won.

—

MC: You cheated!!

Victor: I thought you were very happy and willing to receive my flowers at the party.

MC: This was our team’s reward for victory. And, of course, I would accept the bouquet CEO Victor wrapped for me as the loser.

MC: Besides, this is an entirely different matter––

Even when we return to the hotel after the event dinner, I still can’t stop stomping my feet.

MC: I watched the digits jump to 59 at once. Even if I were to say that I counted faster, it still couldn’t be more than ten seconds.

MC: You must have paused the time!

Victor: Don’t blame other people as an excuse for your miscalculating the time.

Looking at his composed demeanor, I narrow my eyes and follow him into the elevator.

—

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me, and I press my lips together slyly.

MC: CEO Victor, could it be that you paused the time unconsciously and now feel embarrassed about it?

While speaking, I lean over and peck him on the lips.

As the elevator ascends, the dots of light that shine through the window swirl incessantly in Victor’s eyes. He lowers his gaze and doesn’t say anything.

MC: Still haven’t paused, eh.

Pressing my lips against his warm ones, I kiss him again.

MC: Still no pause.

MC: It seems that it wasn’t unintentional, but rather deliberate––

Victor: [flushed cheeks]  You haven’t fully reconstructed the scene in the flower house. So, this doesn’t count.

The patter of rain begins to trickle down outside the window, coating the light and shadow cast on our bodies with a hazy veil. Even our mingled breaths are imbued with the hint of dampness in the air.

MC: Humph, you capitalist! You really never lose out.

Without saying anything more, I lean against the railing and pull hard on his tie knot, yanking it off directly.

Our lips and teeth tightly press against each other as our tongues dance together. I tirelessly explore his territory, leaving my mark on every crevice and corner of it.

The delicate string, as thin as the fine rain, glues our lips together as we slowly separate, panting rapidly for breaths.

The raindrops hitting the glass are reminiscent of blooming flowers, and the world has been rendered silent.

Victor: [flushed cheeks + !!?? lethally raspy, prolonged whisper pouring into your ears]  Do you think I did it unintentionally or deliberately now?

His raspy voice sounds amid the suspended light and shadow, a small cloying smile hanging at the corners of his lips.

MC: It doesn’t matter to me. Regardless of whether it’s intentional or unintentional, it shows that you seem to be working hard in my hunting ground too.

I curl the corners of my lips into a complacent smile, satisfied and ready to open the distance between us––

However, before I can, the palm covering my waist firmly holds me in place and swiftly lifts me up, pressing me directly against the railing of the elevator in a flash.

–

A sudden sensation of coldness crawls up my spine, catching me off guard. To find balance, I instinctively arch my waist and cling onto him with both my hands and feet, crashing into his burning hot breath right in front of me.

I frantically search for a point of strength on Victor’s body and grab onto his coat in a tangled mess. A soft chuckle sounds in my ear, and in the next second, the space in front of me becomes even narrower.

And Victor advances another step further toward me, hemming me in completely into the confined space.

Victor: [!!?? lethally raspy, prolonged whisper pouring into your ears but 3.0]  Then let me see your hard work too.

“Susurrus——”

—

[Tidbits]: !!! the term is simply “簌—” here (suggesting a rustling noise), and now look at the long ribbon of her dress that has been untied––

—

MC: [blushing]  I-I, what else do I need to do? You put me down first…

Victor: [-- 5.0]  I see you’ve been very bold these few days, and now you know to be scared?

The bouquet in my hand becomes heavier and heavier, while my high heels are struggling and on the verge of slipping off my toes.

Victor: [soft chuckle + !!?? 7.0 but more dangerous tone like the hunter has you right where and how he wanted]  Don’t drop my flowers.

His approaching breath is like bait. As I’m trying to escape in a panic, a warm palm has already covered my thigh, pinning me firmly in place.

The sound of clothes rustling is exceptionally clear at this moment. Gentle kisses spread along my neck all the way to the tips of my ears, and together with his scorching breaths and touches, they surge into my consciousness.

The overly steady elevator quietly erases the traces of time. However, the numbers that change from time to time become the only indicator announcing the flow of time.

“Ding——”

MC: [blushing]  Victor, it’s…!

The remainder of my words are crushed between our lips and teeth, and my eyes can’t help but widen. Just as I feel my heart is about to give out, he completely usurps me of the entirety of my sanity——

The elevator door opens, but there is no one outside.

Victor: This is a VIP elevator, and we are the only ones on the top floor.

Victor: Of course, there’s no need to worry about surveillance issues either.

MC: [blushing]  You’re such a…

The only response to me is a quiet chuckle. And in the next second, I’m suddenly lifted up and carried outside the elevator.

—

He holds me up skillfully with one hand, not using too much force, yet using just enough to not allow me to drop back on the floor.

MC: [blushing]  Put me down!

Victor: Only you would let go of your grip after biting the other party’s throat.

He lifts his foot and steps onto the thick and soft carpet, walking extremely slowly. Each step he takes causes me to descend slightly, and my entire body is practically hanging onto his.

My thighs, which are wrapped around his waist, gradually begin to weaken. But those searing hands of his remain pressed against me.

Victor: Stay focused.

The unbearable rubbing is continuously wearing away at my willpower, and his hoarse voice sounds as if he is patiently enduring a certain emotion.

MC: Next time... I will definitely not let you go.

Victor: You don’t need to wait for the next time.

Victor: I’ll give you this opportunity tonight.

Along with the sound of the door opening, the somewhat dazzling light causes me to subconsciously squint my eyes. In my dazed state, I find myself sinking into a softness.

Victor: [!!??!! INTENSE BREATHING + SIR SLOW DOWN!! WHAT IS THAT NOOISEEE]  We can continue our game for a very long time now.

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Calls: here! (important read)~

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