#-and at the same time. Has one of her characters be publically humiliated for having regular amounts of body fat to the point where-

[woomycritiques543]

TW: MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDERS, Self Harm.

Just noticed this but...

Anyone else notice how after the show mentioned Moxxie losing weight after he was bullied into having body dysmorphia... that the character is now full on skinny? A lot more than before? The saddest part is that HB used to be my comfort show, and Moxxie comforted me seeing how autistic he was, so for the show to resort him to a carbon copy of Blitz like in "Western Energy" and a fetishization of femmes and ED is just... wow, holy shit.

-and I know that Moxxie's legs were NOT that skinny just a few episodes ago. -and the show has now confirmed that he is "losing weight" after being "harassed into thinking that he's fat while he's not at all." and now seeing how he looks dangerously skinny in this shot holy fucking shit the show's actually going with having him having an eating disorder... isn't it? Especially with how everyone else who is sexualized far more than Moxxie is, is bone-thin, or has no internal organs, and now im starting to get concerned for the creators as you'd have to have something seriously wrong with your body image to do something like this within your art. Vivienne... are you ok?

"It's just an art style" No, having negative body image is not an "art style", you can be cartoony without psychologically harming yourself and how you see your body. -and seeing how Vivziepop has now fetishized the ED's of real life people (KESHA!) and has eating disorders as a "running gag" (god, hearing this just made me want to gag! dear god!) in her show(s).. Yeah... this, and the representation that's scaringly close to stereotypes that are being used by conservatives, right now, to kill the lgbt+ community by calling them "dangerous around children", is just... yikes, now you know why that im going to be avoiding this episode like I did for most of the Kesha one. Helluva Boss is now beyond redemption at this point.

It's now gone from badly written... to rancid.

[khattikeri]

one of my favorite things about mdzs is that for how heavily its plot involves politics of classism and misogyny... even the characters most directly impacted by it can't and don't free themselves from it. literally the closest exception is mianmian.

meng yao being the "son of a whore" wasn't some sort of commie awakening for him that led him to wanting everyone to be socially equal. he played the political game, climbed the ladders, sucked up to and backstabbed and murdered people, including other prostitutes who actually had nothing to do with how he and his mother were treated at the brothel he grew up in.

he put in so much extra excessive effort for even a fraction of the same respect that members of gentry cultivation clans got. and he did deserve to be treated more humanely! but he feeds into the exact same system that created him, leading to his own undoing.

his efforts were for a fragile upward mobility that was never going to hold up. he never surpassed his origins nor did he empower others in similar stations, because the society he lives in is not one that would accept that.

the second he got caught and all those crimes exposed, he was scapegoated to hell and back, replacing wei wuxian as society's terrible one-sidedly evil boogeyman overnight.

speaking of not-quite male gentry, i think it's interesting that wei wuxian explicitly doesn't try to climb the ladders in BOTH lives, knowing full well that anything he does will be punished just for the sheer fact that he is wei wuxian.

wei wuxian is scolded for giving intelligent and correct answers in school. lan wangji does the same and is praised.

wei wuxian occasionally lounges around with fellow disciples and is punished. jiang cheng does the same and mostly escapes.

wei wuxian refuses to carry his sword around in public (after losing his golden core, which nobody knows) and is scorned as an arrogant upstart. nie huaisang has been doing the EXACT SAME THING for YEARS and nobody bats an eye.

unlike jin guangyao, wei wuxian knew subconsciously from the start that his acceptance was superficial and that he could be cast out any time. when he was 10 and recently taken in by the jiangs, he canonically would not eat or use "too much" food and water because he thought they'd find him a nuisance for "wasting their things" and kick him back out.

now away from just the classism, yu ziyuan is a proud and strong noblewoman in a society that belittles and derides women for everything they do. her strong cultivation doesn't matter. she's victim to the vicious rumors of her husband loving another woman who is strong like her but apparently had a more likeable personality.

it doesn't matter even if jiang fengmian didn't cheat or that wei wuxian is wei changze's son with cangse sanren; yu ziyuan can't bear with the humiliation of herself (and by extension her children) not being "good enough". she's ridiculed for "failing" in that one duty as a wife, mother, and woman.

she lashes out and takes out that anger on everyone present for years, giving her children lasting trauma and also being a key element in how the jiang family and yunmeng jiang sect are effectively wiped out at the hands of the wen clan.

madam jin doesn't even have a name outside of the fact that she's married to jin guangshan. i don't even remember reading anything that indicates if she's a strong or weak cultivator, or what, which in itself proves that to most people, it doesn't matter. she's "just" a woman.

of course she's angry at her husband's affairs and all the bastard children they bring in. but she also can't do anything about them, so she lashes out at the few people she can: servants. non-cultivators, probably. those very same bastard children.

shoutout to meng yao getting shoved down a flight of stairs at age fourteen, because if madam jin tried that move against her husband instead, it would make her lose even more face, which as a noblewoman she'd never do.

and that's not getting into how jiang yanli is consistently sidelined for being physically weak.

that's not getting into how mianmian was actually a good cultivator, but was mocked by everyone around her for trying to stand up for wei wuxian when everyone was turning on him. how everyone scoffed at luo qingyang's words as "just some lovesick woman" who "obviously wants to marry or bed him since he saved her".

luo qingyang is the only one of these characters who HASN'T died. she didn't play society's games like jin guangyao. she didn't dig her heels in confidence of her own abilities like wei wuxian.

she didn't bitterly lash out like yu ziyuan and madam jin. she didn't gently accept it like jiang yanli.

she just LEFT.

she married an ordinary merchant and cultivates separately from mainstream cultivation society, and therein found her own peace and happiness.

mxtx doesn't bother with particularly class conscious or feminist vocabulary to hand-hold readers into understanding these disparities, but that choice highlights them & the deeply entrenched politics of their society even more. i really love it.

[trivia-yandere]

Hello! I love the stories you guys write! Thank you for taking the time to write. I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests, but I was wondering if you could write king jungkook/jimin tying princess reader up to the bed and having his way with her and it’s her first time. She has to marry him now. Thank you again!

so i followed most of what you sent, with a little twist :) i hope what we came up with is enjoyable

word is bond

in order to save your kingdom from perishing, you agree to give your body to the demon king - jimin. @chimmy-licious @bangtans-momma @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @darkuni63

word count: 5.142

warning: unsolicited touching/groping/biting/grinding, blood, voyeurism, public humiliation/degradation, oral (f receiving), throat fucking, yandere tendencies, finger sucking, dark themes, sadism, compulsion, riding, creampie, violence, multiple character deaths, manipulation, mind break,

halloween masterlist | alternate universe masterlist

The castle walls are tall, towering hundreds of feet above you. The throne room is bright - pentagon shaped windows shining the early morning sun into the throne room. You saunter down the marble floor, the heels of your boots clicking against it. Your royal attire is made to attract attention - and to separate you from the townspeople, of course. The royal jacket is larger than you’d like, but plated in gold, fur lined around the collar of it. Your skirt drags along the floor as does the cape you wore.

You can feel the eyes of the townspeople, behind a mountain of guards, on you. You keep your eyes straight ahead on the throne, the large elevated seat that you once dreamed of sitting upon.

You made your way to the throne chair, a guard assisting you upon the elevated surface. You look back at the large crowd, so many people in such a closed off room - all of which are here for you. Your heart feels heavy with joy knowing that your people were here to witness you be crowned as Queen.

Your eyes caught with your brother - the former King. He’s seated at the far right of the large throne room, an emotionless look in his eyes. He doesn’t smile your way when your eyes meet, but you aren’t surprised. You cannot recall the last time your brother smiled at you, maybe back before he was crowned as King once the death of your parents; and that was many years ago.

The crowd begins to clap and cheer once they witness Haneul, an old soldier who once fought alongside your father and now stood as a mentor, lift the crown high above your head. The crown is gold, several circle ornaments displayed upon it with several different gemstones and diamonds upon it. A smile forms onto your lips when you feel the crown be placed upon your head. 

“All hail the Queen!” Haneul says, voice boisterous and loud so all of the crowd could hear.

You bow your head slightly to the crowd, eyes roaming to all faces of the people - your people. 

Once again, your eyes meet those of your brother. You aren’t upset that he doesn’t appear cheerful - after all, the throne was overthrown and now you took his spot as ruler. However, there's a tint in his eyes that you cannot understand.

Your elder brother had been King for years now, nearing a decade since the death of your father a year after your mother. He wasn’t married, and still hasn't found a wife to call Queen. He was always a busy man, becoming a soldier once he was of age, working his way up to lieutenant, sergeant and so on. 

The death of your father came sudden, and your brother was crowned King a week after. You saw the once youthful look turn to one full of stress and disdain. His expression turned emotionless overtime, appearing completely far gone.

Your brother was once loved as a Prince, but became hated as a King. He became tyrannical once he was in power, no longer valuing the townspeople's needs or wants. He was now responsible for the suffering of the same people, forcing working hours to increase, along with tax becoming nearly unreasonable. Anyone who rebelled against your brother was arrested, sended to an underground confinement - and likely to die.

What caused the rebellion against your brother had you at the forefront of it all. You had begged your brother to stop his madness, that it wasn’t like him to be such a cruel individual. You had stormed past guards and elite soldiers to get to your brother, in his hands a gun pointed straight at a man. Guards are attempting to hold back a forming mod, all protesting the life of the man who your brother held a gun at.

You’d never forget that day your brother had made you decide the fate of the man. Princes or Princesses never had the authority over a King or Queen’s decision. “I allow you to live a good life in the palace, sister.” your brother stated. “But since you are too stubborn to mind the business of a Princess, then I’ll allow you to make a decision of a Queen just this once.”

The life of the angry mod - nearly 100 - or the life of the man was in your power to decide. You had refused, shaking your head at the thought of it. The man didn’t deserve to die, he was just one of the first to go against your brother's harsh ruling, the mob following soon after in protest.

“You’d be a weak Queen, sister.” was your brother's final words to you after he killed the man and detained the angry mod in confinement. 

“Sister.”

It was now evening, the townspeople all guided out of the palace. It’s eerily silent inside the castle, even the guards don’t appear to speak much.

You sit inside of your study - the same that once belonged to your father and brother while they ruled. Your arms are crossed as you look upon your brother. He leans against a large bookshelf, dark eyes on you. 

“Brother.”

Haneul observed the pair of you with a sigh. He was such a close friend to your father, he was there when the two of you were born nearly a decade apart. He was seen as a mentor when you both needed him to be, or a friend if it was that. Witnessing your brother become a complete tyrant wasn’t something anyone expected, but neither was the fall of love the two shared as siblings.

“Congratulations on becoming Queen.” your brother steps away from the bookshelf, hands behind his back. “You’ve surprised me by holding a sword in front of you so threateningly.”

Your brother’s teasing. He had scoffed when you had come, stating that he had no business being the King if he couldn’t run it without causing such fear upon the people.

“I have given you the title as Queen willingly. To think my own flesh and blood would betray me in such a way.” your brother hisses with a shake of his head, dark hair flowing around him.

“You became a tyrant!” you hiss, slamming your hands onto the table. “You were never a leader or a King, brother. You became someone that not even I knew.”

“I’ve done whatever to assure your safety most importantly, sister.” your brother stalks towards you, a malice look in his eye. “I’ve done everything with good reason.”

“Good reason?” you scoff. “Murdering our own people is a good reason, brother? Forcing them to work such cruel hours and raising the prices of taxes and rent is a good reason?”

You shake your head. You had no need to listen further to your brother's ramblings. 

Haneul steps between the pair of you with raised hands. “Let’s attempt to remain calm.” he says with a warning tone. 

“No.” your brother hisses. “Since my dear sister believes that I am nothing but a tyrant, how about I tell you the truth.”

You knit your brows at your brother. 

“There’s a reason we do not get out of our Kingdom's walls and why they are so high, sister. You’ve been told countless folklore of the mountains that surround us and just how we are to not step foot from the gates - especially at night?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod your head slightly. There was never a need to question the elder people in your lives who told you how dangerous outside the walls were. The townspeople remained inside, living comfortably in their own homes. Schools, sanctuaries and factories remained inside the Kingdom grounds, surrounding the castle you resided in. There was enough food to be had between the townspeople and the royals - farmers growing the best vegetables and raising livestock and all.

“There’s a reason for this, sister.” your brother continues. “I had good reason to become the way I am. Haneul, you were one of several survivors that fought the darkness that are outside our Kingdom walls decades ago while our grandfather reigned. You understand the threat we face day by day.”

Haneul nods slowly, eyes glancing at you.

“What darkness?” you question, leaning closer to your desk.

“Women are not allowed in the army, sister, and thus you have no true reason to understand just what we are raised to fight outside the Kingdom walls. We have been able to slain such darkness for decades until a new threat came upon.”

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise at your brother's words. 

“I’ve come face to face to a new threat, a King such as myself, of this darkness.”

Haneul is the first to react, his eyes widening at your brother's words. “Impossible.”

“I tell no lies, Haneul.” your brother shrugs. “It seems as though us slaying the lower demons were just a distraction for the King to rise into power once more.”

Demon?

“W-What-”

“Your grandfather has slain the King back in his reign. I’ve watched-”

Haneul is interrupted by your brother once more. He waves the older man off with a huff. “He was never slain, Haneul. He killed all of my men that came with me years ago and left me as the sole survivor.”

You gasp at the words.

You recall the time your brother was brought in several wounded after returning, but you were not given a direct answer to what had happened. The sight of the blood stained floors had haunted you for weeks on end.

“What exactly are you saying, brother? What darkness is threatening us?” you try your best to not appear frightened, but it’s impossible.

Your brother - after all these years - wore an expression. That of sadness…fear.It’s as though you can finally let his guard down and tell you what he was feeling; allow everything in his mind to fall right into your lap.

“The demon King was never dead, Haneul. He was unable to seek his revenge for he was wounded, which is why he had his own army to do so. But in the last few years, he’s grown stronger by the day. He warned me that we would be coming to take over our Kingdom and get revenge on the very people he managed to defeat him temporarily.”

Your brother's eyes never leave yours.

“You and I, sister, are who he wants dead. He left me alive just to spread the word - that or this is all a game to him.” your brother’s voice cracks -  one that was once so deep and stern, now has a whimper to it. He can finally break the wall he has put up, but at what cause?

“I did what I had to do to raise an army to fight this darkness, sister. Haneul. I needed the townspeople working constantly on our weapons, armory and anything else we needed to fight them off. We needed the money to bring in outside sources from down the mountains if need be.”

“Brother…” Why didn’t he tell you?

“All the sacrifices I made, sister, was to not only protect the Kingdom, but to protect you.” your brother turns away from you. He was your elder brother and right before your father’s death, he had promised that you would always be out of harm's way. “You told me that you’d never forgive me for the tyrant I’ve become, sister. And that was the risk I was willing to take if it meant you’d remained alive.”

“What is a Queen willing to do in order to protect her Kingdom?” is what the demon had asked you.

“Anything.” is what you told him.

Your brother had told you that soon - maybe within the next five months - that darkness would take over your Kingdom and that was the reason he became completely tyrannical. You now understood why he became so harsh, why he needed such a large amount of money to supply weapons and armor; even if you didn’t completely agree with his reasoning. 

You were now Queen and the Kingdom and the townspeople needed you to be there for them. Against Haneul and your brothers wishes, you made your way out of the large Kingdom’s walls, assuring to close the gate behind you. You never been outside the Kingdom, walking down the dark path towards the forested area - you never had a reason to, either. The moon is high and shining bright and you’re thankful that it gives you enough light to see where you were going. 

Though you were never raised to fight in the imperial army, you were trained in combat and how to protect yourself if need be - you just hoped that what you were taught was enough if you came across whatever darkness was out there. 

You’re unsure how long you’ve walked the dirt path and yet, you’ve found nothing. Your plan was something you weren’t sure of yourself - find the darkness and what? Fight them off yourself?

Your head snaps to the left, instantly, you grab your dagger to defend yourself. Before you can do anything to defend yourself from any attacker, you feel your feet being lifted from the ground and the side of your body throbbing in pain.

You’re at a loss of breath, chest heaving while your heart is beating erratically. Your back is pressed firmly against a tree, your hand clenches along your ribcage.

“I’ve never seen a woman out this late.”

The voice is sinister and you do not see who it belongs to at first. Your vision is blurred and you’re doing everything in your power to focus on your surroundings.

Footsteps, you hear them coming. Your eyes slowly become wider when they capture the thing in front of you - was this the demon your brother spoke of? Part of the darkness that was going to take over the Kingdom?

The demon is tall, you note. Its eyes are dark and appear to have no irises. It’s covered in hair and its spine is curved. You recall the tales you heard when you were younger from your brother of werewolves, but this cannot be that - right?

You raise your dagger, the light from the moon flashing the demon right into the eye. You gulp just as the demon lunges. 

You scream upon feeling something slash along your cheek, but you were determined to win this fight. Your dagger comes down onto the demon's shoulder as it gets closer to you, and your feet kicks it away from you, but to no avail. You feel your royal attire being ripped, your jacket going first. 

To think you survived this long without truly knowing the truth of the darkness that plagues the forest and mountains outside your kingdom - lived long enough to become Queen.

To now possibly die before finding a way to fight for your Kingdom long enough.

Your clothing is ruined, near shreds when you hear a high pitched scream come from the demon before you. It begins to burn before your eyes. Your hand immediately touches your cheek, the warm blood oozes onto your fingers.

“You…”

You cannot see anything surrounding you - or whoever the voice belongs to. There's a breeze in the air now and it causes you to shiver due to your shattered clothing.

There’s a force pulling you by your hair. Your hands reach out to try to get whatever it was off of you, but you’re shocked to feel your clothes being ripped, as well. You struggle against the unseen force, your thighs being pulled apart.

“I’ve yet to see a woman out of the Kingdom.” The voice speaks once more. “Until now. And not just any woman…” you’re shocked to feel a wet sensation upon your cheek. “...the Queen.”

Your clothes - though shattered - are completely off of your body. You’re left in nothing but undergarments and chest binding, and soon the bandage bindings are off of you, as well. You feel disgusted with the unseen’s force hands upon your skin, touching and groping.

You feel a pair of lips kiss down your bare skin, the wind blowing erratically around you. The unseen force places kisses upon your neck, down to your collarbone, breast to your stomach. There’s goosebumps littering your skin, the foreign sensation disgusting you - more so because you feel a pool of pleasure between your legs. 

“What is a Queen doing outside her kingdom?” the force asks.

“The King…” you trail off, just as you feel hands tug at your undergarments, the cotton clothed that is the only piece of dignity you had left. “I-I need to see him…”

You force stops and for a moment, you begin to think that you’ve hallucinated. You go to cover your breast, chest heaving as you breathe.

You close your eyes for a moment to capture your breath, and once you open them you’re startled. 

“You’ve come out of your Kingdom to see me, Queen?” the man's voice is the same as the unseen force - low and sultry, a hint of taunt in his voice.

The man appears human, tan and smooth skin with dark hair with matching dark eyes. His lips are plush, pink and full.

You feel as though you’re hallucinating once more. The man is right where the unseen force had been, now instead he’s pinning you down. You feel far too exposed for his eyes and unsolicited hands wandering. 

“Usually I kill whoever comes so deep into the mountains…” the man's nails are long as he trails them down your cheek. You feel the cut on your cheek begin to burn and you winch slightly. The cut disappears in a matter of seconds and you no longer feel the throbbing pain from your side. “...but you look far too appealing to get rid of, Queen.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Why have you ventured out to see me, Queen?” the man doesn’t stop his touches, nor does he care about asking for any form of permission. His hands grip both of your naked breasts, tongue dipping down to capture a nipple into his mouth. 

“Please, stop.” you beg, shuddering beneath him at the foreign sensation. “I-I…you’re going to attack my kingdom.”

Your back arches when the demon continues to suckle onto your breast, eyes flickering up to you. “I am.” he says after popping your nipple from his mouth. “Such a whorish body for a virgin, Queen.”

The demon shoves your thighs apart, his eyes on your clothed center. He notices the wet spot on your underwear and hums. 

You feel hot with embarrassment, thighs quivering to close. 

“I sense that you’ve come out here to make a deal with me, Queen? You’re far too weak to kill me.” the demon laughs, as if the thought of you attempting to cause him any harm is just that comical. 

The demon rips off your underwear and dips his head between your legs. His tongue laps between your folds.

Once again, your back arches and your eyes clenched shut. You want to fight the demon, but there’s no use - he’s stronger than you, even if he appears human. He holds onto your legs tightly as he ravishes your clit hungrily.

Your moans don’t go unnoticed from either of you. You didn’t want this - he was a demon and presumably the King your brother spoke of. However, you cannot control how your body feels - and it feels far too amazing to not moan.

“What is a Queen willing to do in order to protect her Kingdom?” is what the demon had asked you, lifting his head from your throbbing clit, licking his lips.

“Anything.” is what you told him, fresh tears pooling down your cheeks with overstimulation.

“Sister…” the look on your brother's face breaks your heart. “...what have you done?”

The demon’s name is Jimin - or that’s what he called himself when he allowed you to leave, making sure your skin was littered with bite marks and bruises before he did so.

The last time you saw Jimin was months prior when you had strolled through the forest. He had allowed you to leave and told you in five months time, you would see him again. 

Jimin didn’t say that when he’d return, it would be without bloodshed. He allowed the darkness - as your brother called them - to wreak havoc upon the Kingdom. Innocent lives were lost and nearly half of your soldiers had gone with them.

Your brother’s eyes fall upon you, running towards the same demon King he had warned Haneul about months prior, a look of disbelief on his face. He holds the sword high in one hand, ready to attack Jimin if given the chance to - only you had stepped right in between the blade and the demon. The demon held a smug look upon his face, a smirk forming on his plush lips.

You were crying, your brother notes. Your hand grasps Jimin’s top, pushing him away with all your might - something he allowed you to do. You had fallen to your knees next, begging for the King to call off the darkness surrounding you - to stop the havoc upon innocent blood.

“I told you I’d do anything.” you cried to the smug King. 

“That you did.” Jimin quips.

The demon king raises his hands, flicking it slightly. It was as if it was a call to attention - the once demonic entities that savagely attacked the townspeople and guards - now surrounded you. 

“Sister…” your brother murmurs, eyes gazing along the different types of entities surrounding you all. 

“A Queen is willing to do anything to protect her Kingdom.” Jimin states to your brother.

Jimin snaps his fingers, and in a blink of an eye, the scenery changes. You are now inside the palace in the large throne room. Your brother, several guards and soldiers including the demonic entities occupy the room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes roaming to the frozen crowd.

“They’re conscious. Just unable to move.” Jimin states from behind you, a hand gripping your shoulder. “I want them to watch their Queen crumble beneath my fingers. Especially that brother of yours.”

Jimin snaps again and now, you feel it once more - the unseen force. Your royal attire is being ripped from your body once more - falling to shreds at your feet. Jimin watches intently at the show before him, you flushed and hot and embarrassed.

Jimin raises a hand and points two fingers at you. He flicks it low and instantly, you fall to your knees. 

Jimin is slow to walk towards you, and when he does, he grips your cheeks harshly. He pries your mouth open and enters two fingers inside of it.

“Don’t choke.” Jimin commands, forcing his fingers deeper inside of your mouth.

You do, feeling the tips of his fingers reach closer to the back of your throat.

Jimin sighs with a shake of his head.

You gasp when your cheek stings. You fall to the side, barely managing to catch yourself. 

“Open your mouth for me, human.” Jimin commands, but it’s as though he does it himself. Your mouth opens wide as if on impact - having no true control of your actions.

Your eyes are wide as you watch Jimin release his trousers. It falls to his knees and before you is his cock - erect, veiny and large. 

“I can smell your fear, Queen. You being afraid will not stop me from taking you in front of your soldiers, guards and brother.”

Jimin places the tip of his cock on your tongue, rubbing it along the wet muscle for a moment before he fully enters your mouth.

Jimin is a true demon - your human tears do not affect him. With each thrust, he hits the back of your throat, but your mouth never falters - you’re compelled to keep your mouth open until he is finished. 

Jimin grunts, surprise how your throat takes him so well - he can see the outline of his cock on your throat as he fucks you, and it only makes him want to hurt you more. 

Your throat swells with a thick, salty substance and you find it difficult to breathe. You’re squirming beneath Jimin, wanting everything in your power to fight his compulsion and to get away from him.

“Swallow.” Jimin hisses - and you do. It’s difficult at first, so thick that it takes several tries. But when you do, you begin to cough at the new found oxygen you receive when Jimin takes his cock from your mouth.

Jimin cackles at your appearance - puffy lips and face, blurry eyes with tear stained cheeks. 

“Go ahead, Queen,” Jimin tilts his head. “tell me how you are going to save your kingdom.”

As if it wasn’t humiliating enough to have the eyes of people who respected you watching, Jimin wanted you to further be embarrassed. 

“B-By letting you use me.” your throat hurts, throbbing with such pain. 

“Hm…” Jimin shakes his head. “I want to hear you beg, Queen. You came to me, afterall.”

You’re shuddering, naked skin erupting in goosebumps. You bowed to Jimin, wishing that this was nothing but a cruel nightmare you’d wake up from. “Please u-use me…”

Jimin snorts, unamused. “If that’s what you call begging, then I’ll kill them now.”

One guard is unfrozen. He falls to his knees, engulfed in bright orange flames. His screams echo off the wall of the throne room, echoing deep within your mind. 

“Please use me and don’t hurt my people!” you scream, hot and fresh tears soring down your cheeks. You’re trembling in fear, Jimin’s true nature showing. “Hurt me as much as you’d like!”

Jimin’s interest peaks, a smirk forming onto his lips. “Oh?”

The unseen force slams your face against the marble floor and forces your legs apart. You feel Jimin behind you, sharp nails against your naked skin. His skin burns yours, so hot that it feels as if it’ll melt yours. 

“A Queen would do anything to save her kingdom.” Jimin cackles once more.

You scream out when you feel yourself being stretched out. Your eyes clenched shut, tears finding their way out of your eyes somehow. 

Jimin grinds deep inside of you, hissing at just how tight you were - a true virgin. Instantly, you’re bleeding, blood seeping down your thighs mixed with slick. But Jimin doesn’t care. He doesn’t slow his abusive thrusts.

“For years I’ve been bound into the forest until I was able to break free.” Jimin says, his abdomen slapping against your ass as he takes you. “Years my kind has been falling to the likes of filthy humans such as yourself.”

You’re going to die, the pain excruciating. With each thrust, you’re pounded against the marble floor roughly, hitting deeper and deeper inside of you that you’re positive you’d be split open. 

“And now, Queen, I will take out decades of frustration upon you with no remorse.”

Jimin’s promise rang true. He continues to pound into you at a brutal pace for who knows how long. You felt yourself being filled countless times - each time more than before.

Jimin had flipped you onto your back, admiring how your breast bounced  furiously as he fucks you, his cock causing a bulge so large in your stomach. Your cries are nothing but music to his ears, pussy clenching him so tightly as it drips a large puddle around him.

Jimin hoists you up, fucking into you against one of the frozen guards, not caring about any of them or their lives - humiliating you was his true purpose. You’re unable to speak, only screaming and crying louder with each thrust.

Hours upon hours had gone by and you had no tears left to cry or any protest to give. You accepted your fate by now. Your insides hurt and you’re truly unsure just how many times you could be pleasured by such a demon - an insane amount of liquid had squirted out of you countless times.

“It’s your turn, Queen.” Jimin drops you onto the ground, amused by your twitching form. His cum oozes out of you rapidly, clit throbbing and red.

Your body suddenly feels hot and any exhaustion you once felt is now gone. This had to be the work of Jimin’s demonic powers.

You spring from your fetal position to wrap your legs around Jimin. He sits upon the cold marble floor, wrapping his arms around you.

What was going on? Why had you suddenly regained such strength and stamina?

You sit upon Jimin’s erect cock and moan out. Your hips rise and fall at an alarming pace - you’ve never done this before, however, you appear a pro at it. Your fingernails dig into his skin and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

Jimin chuckles at your new eagerness, allowing you to go wild against him. It may be his compulsion over you, but he cannot fake your orgasm or your slick - that was all you.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, Queen. Does my cock do this to you?”

You nod your head erratically, your hips never buckling. You’re creaming his cock, stars forming in your compelled eyes. All you could think about his Jimin - his cock, his cum, and him overall.

“You’ll only cum when I allow you to, Queen. Is that what you want? To cum?”

“Please, please, please!” your mind is blank - you’ve forgotten what you initially agreed upon with the demon, all you can think about now is cumming all over his cock. “Please let me cum!”

“Cock hungry whore.” Jimin wraps a hand around your neck and squeezes. “These people would never respect you as their Queen even after you risked your life to save theirs.”

You’re cumming, a pool of slick shooting out of you, but even then you cannot stop your aggressive riding. You wanted more than to cum - you wanted Jimin’s cum deep inside of you once more - over and over again.

“What are you willing to do to have my cum, whore?” Jimin begins to thrust along with you, reaching deeper. “Would you watch your Kingdom burn for it?”

You’re too far gone now and you nod your head.

Humans were truly easy to fool.

“So be it.” Jimin snaps his fingers, the room erupting in a fit of fire.

Even with the sounds of screams, you want nothing more than for Jimin to use you - to breed you. It’s what whores truly desire, Jimin thinks, to be bred by whoever is willing. He’s positive once you come back to your senses, you’d be devastated to know that your brother, Haneul, the royal guards and soldiers are dead - however, he promised you that your Kingdom would remain; not the people occupying it.

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Leave me something - or let me out. I'm starving. Push me, pull me. Waiting for the start of:

Things that I want, this happily ever after. You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster. Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you're both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it's very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

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List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It's a newer song, and it's one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone's emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don't have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd. 

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits? 

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off. 

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for. 

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least. 

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you. 

… 

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him. 

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive. 

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up. 

“Who are your friends?” He asked. 

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice. 

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes. 

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed. 

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question. 

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience. 

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand. 

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang. 

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear. 

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement. 

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.” 

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time. 

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh. 

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason. 

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it. 

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained. 

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self. 

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face. 

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded. 

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked. 

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of. 

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again. 

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?” 

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish. 

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about. 

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit. 

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you. 

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact. 

“No way.” You scoffed. 

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together. 

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity. 

“I am.” Dick said firmly. 

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips. 

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said. 

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit. 

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words. 

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer. 

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-” 

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.” 

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air. 

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was. 

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours. 

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so. 

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by. 

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it. 

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment. 

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked. 

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him. 

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink. 

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle. 

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you. 

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him. 

… 

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging. 

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick. 

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts. 

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock. 

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting. 

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him. 

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun. 

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages. 

You had no clue that you’d end up living together. 

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall. 

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional. 

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean. 

… 

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.” 

“Shut up.” 

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended. 

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments. 

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him. 

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words. 

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes. 

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies. 

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.” 

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words. 

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.” 

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face. 

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.” 

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail. 

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?” 

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear. 

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?” 

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him. 

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed. 

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both. 

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that. 

… 

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind. 

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day. 

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex. 

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up. 

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up. 

… 

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you. 

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile. 

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl. 

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle. 

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.” 

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box. 

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs. 

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead. 

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.” 

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee. 

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.” 

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans. 

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’” 

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others. 

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’” 

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock. 

But you would never admit that he was right. 

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won. 

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that. 

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you. 

You just glared, and he smirked once more. 

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done. 

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed. 

“I know.” You grinned at him. 

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you. 

… 

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice. 

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him. 

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will. 

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong. 

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket. 

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval? 

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you? 

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn. 

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it. 

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed. 

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done. 

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.  

… 

Hectic. 

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower. 

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up. 

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal. 

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that. 

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision. 

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason. 

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him. 

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner. 

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection. 

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened. 

So you took the leap. 

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door. 

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you. 

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him. 

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight. 

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.” 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life. 

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.” 

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects. 

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired. 

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you. 

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly. 

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself. 

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own. 

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair. 

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt. 

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you. 

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now. 

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over. 

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.” 

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury. 

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence. 

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you. 

“You need this treated.” He added on. 

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly. 

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.” 

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.” 

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound. 

“Jason-” 

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you. 

But of course, he cut you off. 

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore. 

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites. 

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion. 

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him. 

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you. 

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it. 

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm. 

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed. 

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it. 

But, no dice. 

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to. 

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse. 

Jason sighed through his nose. 

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?” 

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you. 

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle. 

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound. 

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it. 

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?” 

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind. 

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.” 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you. 

… 

Dick explicitly told you to stay put. 

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader. 

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him. 

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Jason!” 

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward. 

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started. 

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.) 

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side. 

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason. 

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass. 

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen. 

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him. 

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you. 

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt. 

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once. 

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists. 

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety. 

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding. 

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off. 

… 

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant. 

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk. 

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you. 

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke. 

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time. 

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.” 

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them. 

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him. 

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.” 

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line. 

‘Maybe I just have to care.’ 

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it. 

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable. 

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.” 

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning. 

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze. 

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’ 

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely. 

“It’s nothing.” You told him. 

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from. 

Jason shook his head at this statement. 

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it. 

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain. 

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes. 

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply. 

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it. 

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble. 

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize. 

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident. 

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth. 

“I meant what I said.” You told him. 

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened. 

He didn’t find any. 

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound. 

… 

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could. 

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street. 

Panic flooded you. 

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately. 

“Don’t move!” He shouted. 

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back. 

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason. 

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes. 

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him. 

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him. 

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die. 

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him. 

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart. 

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.” 

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning. 

He thought he was a dead weight to your life. 

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!” 

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you. 

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully. 

You ignored him. 

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting. 

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!” 

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him. 

But of course, you refused. 

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.” 

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more. 

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of. 

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned. 

So Jason did what he had to do. 

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip. 

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-” 

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself. 

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely. 

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground. 

… 

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him. 

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat. 

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it. 

“All done.” He said quietly. 

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place. 

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you. 

You felt your heart sink. 

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there. 

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave. 

It was something else. 

It had to be something else. 

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you. 

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours. 

And now he was trying to back down from that. 

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first. 

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey. 

You were both so vulnerable. 

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed. 

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that. 

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things. 

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask. 

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you. 

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly. 

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe. 

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through. 

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you. 

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin. 

He knew that it would break him. 

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him. 

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought. 

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you. 

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was. 

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat. 

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you. 

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible. 

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” 

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back. 

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.” 

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen. 

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips. 

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once. 

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body. 

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

[silviakundera]

Did a speedrun through modern cdrama Everyone Loves Me because I'm a fan of both leads. A fairly well constructed romcom for a specific trope, AND also one of the most valid examples of the critique that cdrama storylines are pointlessly over-extended. This would have been a great modern drama at 12 episodes. Unfortunately, it's at least 10 episodes too long. The literal gaming (characters interacting while playing videogames) is very light - it's an initiating plot device piece but doesn't consume much actual screen time. The real genre is IT workplace romance with Hidden Identity trope.

Do you like:

* Capable & ambitious female lead x male lead with a competency kink whose turn-offs are white lotus & green tea girls and turn-ons are brash ladies who can cuss you out; dressing up to impress is not required

* Romantic dynamic of equal partners (2 strong personalities, not active/passive)

* "We don't know yet who is going to be the breadwinner. My goal is to be a CEO."

* Low heat (just a few kisses),

* modern workplace dramas (so much working)

[heavy spoilers below]

The actual set up & outline are:

* Online friend group who casually game together, in the last days of university. One of the guys starts catching feelings for the girl, our FL (let's call him Gamer Friend). FL isn't romantically considering Gamer Friend at all, because she has a crush on a guy from her uni.

* This crush is Gamer Friend in rl! 😮

* ML isn't open to being crushed on by anyone at rl uni, because he is already hung up on FL (as his online friend) 🙈

* FL asks for advice from her gaming buds on how to pursue her rl crush. Gamer Friend doesn't want her to succeed, because he wants to win her heart, so he keeps giving terrible advice to chase him by acting out the soft-spoken innocent maiden archetype (the opposite of FL's real boisterous & brash personality)

* This creates a comedy of errors where ML in rl is being pursued by the woman he's in love with, but he's shooting her down left & right. This culminates in her confessing and he publically rejects her in a harsh manner. When she comes crying (and vengeful) to the group, the guys all realize the identity confusion. Appropriately horrified, bros have no idea what to do. (This whole scene is gold tbh.)

* This plotline covers 7 episodes, but should have been dealt with in 4.

* Next 5 episodes (should have been 2!): Gamer Friend, toiling under karma, tries to be virtually supportive of his beloved while in person desperately making gestures to show remorse & have her less willing to obliterate his RL person. (this is all complicated by them both hired into the same company post-grad; there's a whole gaming dev & art design subplot - like in Lighter & Princess, the writers did the research so the setting is reality-based). This arc ends with identity reveal: she finally knows irl crush = Gamer Friend

* Next 6-7 episodes lead her from being (rightfully) furious and humiliated to them finally becoming friendly & supportive of each other. He waits to ask for more until he feels truly forgiven for the shakespearean hijinks that kept them apart. Includes work drama and fake-dating For Reasons. This arc, again, could have been 3-4 episodes.

* Final 5 episode arc is dating era and culmination of the gaming dev plotline. Heavy emphasis on work drama. Only 2 out of the last 5 episodes had significant romance material for the main couple, which was the major flaw in the drama. Avoided the separation cliche but also no marriage scenes at the end - we just see that they're still close, supportive partners a year later. Should have been 3 episodes ;)

The structure is right for a simple rom com set up of: one party pursues, gets rejected, then the other party pursues & corrects their mistake. The misunderstandings are logical enough; FL is assertive and we see evidence of her talent (not just told); ML likes her for herself & doesn't want a childish, obedient woman like the idol dramas represent; they are shown to make a good team & respect each other; the wronged party isn't a push over and their forgiveness has to be earned. It's clear why they like each other and that they work as a couple. (Though the emphasis is on compatibility & domesticity rather than sexual heat.)

The showrunner just needed to compress each arc and spend a lot less time on corporate minutiae. The way I engage with this type of drama is to binge, skip all 2nd couple scenes, and liberal use of fast forward ⏩⏩.

[pinkandpurple360]

Stella is “The most evil character in the entire series” right…

They’re very much same, and that works! They both suck. Two selfish petty spoiled brats. It’s a new dynamic we’ve never seen before. Making her the domestic abuser #189 in the series just to minimise stolas’ creepiness and shove stolitz in my poor unwilling eyeballs is bad writing

Since she is the big bad bitch 💅 the final boss of the universe apparently- stopping the beautiful holy grail it’s not rape-if-they-both-get-off Stolitz let’s morally compare her to Stolas and Blitz (this will contain spoilers!)

- Wants husband dead for cheating.

Im sorry but given how humiliated she feels and how unapologetic he is about the cheating in between wimpy excuses like ‘i couldnt find a motel’ and pretending she feels no betrayal when she’s screaming at him that she does, embarrassment is a form of betrayal this makes sense? Did she give and then get it slapped back in her face? Yes. But her motive makes sense.

She threw a silly public I hate my marriage party loudly discussing her sex life and so did he, a loud divorce party. And he discussed sex and being horny in front of his 17 year old daughter. Ignoring Blitzs non stop resistance and lack of consent. They should both be embarrassed of themselves. The main protagonist (It’s supposedly blitz by the way not stolas) is an assassin himself. Stolas has hired this exact assassin to kill plenty of people for him. I just don’t value Stolas’ life as superior to the imp lives he takes the same way that he values himself. And he’s been fine with putting Moxie and Millie “the littler ones who aren’t Blitzy” in danger many times without even acknowledging them as people. Screw this guy. In this show what Stella does is in-line with the morality considering what IMPs job is. Remember those guys?? They specialise in killing cheaters, Blitz has probably killed countless cheating husbands in and outside of hell, next!

- Loudly airs their dirty laundry about how much she hates being married to Stolas and doesn’t want to have sex with him and she’s glad she had a baby quick enough to not have to pretend to be attracted to him cause she finds him pathetic (but he actually is, anyone who abuses the weak then cries in self pity when someone his own size says something, is very pathetic)

How dare she not want to fuck him. How. dare. How dare she resent the man she was forced to marry and sleep with. Especially since. He is sex personified.

Just look at that sexy face—urgh sorry I just threw up a little in my mouth.

- She tried to slap him

Yes. That is not ok. Don’t slap people.

- SO, the “appeal” of Stolas is that he is full of repressed spicy gay barely consensual racist coded desires, and he will get them at any cost. Which appeals exclusively to lovers of the forbidden fruit trope, and makes the object of his lust and many queer viewers like myself feel…sick. He loves his daughter who is becoming more miserable by the day by his neglect and (🚨!) is going to turn into angry “You can’t be with him! Gasp you love him don’t you! It’s him or me!” Elsa in the finale. I’m so sorry Octavia. Three times they’ve done this to you. Blitz literally bullies Moxie worse than Stella bullies Stolas and I am not exaggerating. Loona abuses Blitzø worse than Stella. I care more about my boy Moxie who’s only crime is being too silly sometimes. T - T Stolas however is a coward who sexually and violently preys on, condescends, and exploits those he sees as beneath him. This is mainly our main characters? Who we are supposed to root for? Who he constantly puts in harms way for his own preferences even though he has an ARMY, PROPHETIC VISIONS AND CAN PETRIFY ENEMIES

Stella finds his sexualising of imps disgusting - and she has a point—cause she’s also bigoted but honestly that’s better than having an imp sex plaything like Stolas does while maintaining the bigoted attitude that has destroyed Blitzs entire self worth—oh wait according to Seeing Stars he’s into it now ok? Oh but in Oops he’s mad at his exploitation again? BUT HE LAUGHS AT HIS GORE JOKES! Season 2 writing sucks when the feathered twig ass is involved

Leave him alone… you should be an actual registered sex offender..

[gold-rhine]

What characters in genshin would be doms and what they would be like?

ok this is non exhaustive list, dont come at me if i didnt name ur fav

ning, obviously. she doesnt yell "SUBMIT!" at every burst for nothing. ning is a nerd, but shes not humanities nerd, she's a spreadsheet nerd. she designed her own version of chess. she's not gonna do 10 pages backstory for roleplay, she's gonna do like. mechanics challenges instead. shes gonna have custom made weirdly specific toys and gear and make u do obstacles test and chuckle at ur struggles. very big on making subs "earn" smth. u have to deserve her strap. otherwise will make her three girlies fuck u and sit there, watching and smoking her pipe. will leave in the middle if not entertained. sometimes gets in the mood to bottom, like with the shit they pulled that one lantern rite with her saying go tell beidou her reward is waiting ;) she's still in charge tho.

yelan, obviously. bondage, obviously. we all saw the trailer. yelan is for ppl who want to feel controlled 24\7. she knows ur whole browser history. she knows if u touched yourself. she will appear in a locked room and punish u for being bad. will walk her subs on a leash in public and humiliate passersby's who dare to object.

neuvi is overcareful and awkward outside of the scene, but during the scene he has the same naturally commanding presence as at the trials. most of the kink doesn't actually do anything for him, bc he doesn't get human taboos. like he has a line about how its normal for vishaps to drink each others blood, his standards for whats provocative\forbidden is waaay different. so he's both very open minded in some sense and harder to communicate with in others. he can sense human emotions, so he's mostly into this for feeling pleasure of a partner. also i hope u love inherent eroticism of the sea

lisa mostly does the soft mommy thing, but she also has very pronounced sadistic streak and is into punishment, esp electroshock. source: her quest, lightning torture ppl emperor palpatine style for being late with books. ok lisa calm down, keep it in the bedroom

yae miko is in local bdsm clubs harassing most inexperienced dogboys into forcefemming bc raiden left her on read for 10 days in a row

kaeya is a switch, prioritizes being his partner's wish fulfilment, but overall loves prolonged teasing, to take everything out of the sub so that at the end of the session every nerve ending is wrecked and aching and still not enough

honorary mention to zhongli. i dont know him like that, so cant elaborate, but i agree with ppl theres a vibe

chiori had 5 seconds of screen time, but i think she has the vibe too. the doll play, outfits, control, but not in punitive yelan style, but in like. her favorite toy that she likes dressing up and spoiling.

[lyssaterald]

Take Flight, Part?: Stood Up

Content Warning: General spoilers for the main story. Minors and ageless accounts do not interact! First person writing, named character, and slight mentions of character’s past and history which are not expanded upon as they are not important to this chapter. Weirdly, I switch between past and present tense. Sorry, not sorry. Unbeta read.

SMUT: LucixMCxDia

Word count is around 6k and was supposed to be PwoP but developed plot as I went, lol.

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

Staring at the empty chair in Ristorante Six where Lucifer was supposed to be sitting made me angry and sad at the same time, and also made my gut twist in ways I hadn’t felt since before he and Dia had accidentally kidnapped me to the Devildom in the first place. Swirling the Demonus in my glass and sipping at it while the staff glanced quickly to me and then away as they took other customer orders was very humiliating. The reservation had been made by him under his name for the two of us where we were to meet up after we had each finished our work or school for the week and spend a few hours together outside HoL and away from his brothers.

How many times had I texted Lucifer now?

My thoughts had gone a little wild over the last hour since he had failed to arrive at his self-appointed time to start our date. Had something happened? Was HoL on fire? What if Mammon or them had done something to distract him? Maybe there had been a prank gone wrong or Diavolo had kept him over for a meeting they were having?

But my D.D.D has been silent for most of the day. Asmo has found out about our date and insisted on getting together my outfit for the evening (a somewhat racy little black number with red and black lingerie) and had even promised to keep his oher five brothers distracted for a few hours tonight. And Asmo usually pestered me about my nights with Luci when he could feel when I was horny and knew when I’d spent a satisfying evening with one of my two lovers. So…that was probably what was going on with Luci’s brothers and he or Diavolo usually text if a meeting is going to interfere with plans we had set before the plans take place. So…

Was this a subtle way of punishing me or telling me that he was unhappy with something I had done? But Luci was usually fairly direct in when he was unhappy with something. Flirting was a subtle thing with him in public. Our disagreements had been…heated…but also resolved in private and…sometimes…with sex. We had never had a public disagreement…

Or, and this was what was making my gut twist, was he breaking up with me? And had just lost his nerve or something?

I’d done that before with others back home. I know the reasons I am unattractive as a mate to those individuals, but…since arriving at the Devildom…Diavolo and the seven Avatars had all been courting or showing possessive, familial behavior. 

This wasn’t normal with them.

Lucifer was fucking prideful. If he had lost interest in the relationship, he would have said so. So…

That’s why I had stayed for an hour and tried multiple times to call and text him, to which there had been no reply and there had been just the gut-churning anxiety. So…so, I met the eyes of one of the waiters and waved them down after setting aside the glass of Demonus and gave them my best smile with my hands folded under my chin.

“What was the charge the last time Beel was here?”

“Si-six-m-m-m-m-m-million grimm,” the waitress stutters nervously and I instantly feel bad.

The Avatars are some of their rulers and I live with them.

“Has the bill been satisfied?” I ask kindly.

“N-not…exactly,” the demoness tells me and casts her eyes down and away further. 

I want to scream in frustration over the negligence that they get into…instead, I simply smile and pull out the cards that Diavolo and Lucifer both gave me and hand them over. “Bill six times the leftovers of that bill to both cards and then half that for a tip for all the server staff that deal with Beel on a regular basis, but make sure to take what you need from the cards for your month, too,” I tell her and she looks like she is about to burst into tears. “What is your name?”

“R-r-r-r-Raya.” She is sobbing now and everyone is looking on, but I give zero fucks.

I reach towards her and she gives me her hand automatically and then I tumble up and into her, giggling. If Luci wants to make a scene or forget me, I will make this demon’s month. Especially since she seems to be having a bad day or week…or year.

“The kitchens, please,” I whisper to her amidst my sudden giggling. I stumble and giggle as she leads me towards the kitchens. As soon as we are out of view of the public eye, I smile and thank her and then wait for her to charge the two cards to be returned. It takes a few minutes, but the looks the staff are giving me shift from pitying to straight up adoration and I have to wonder when the last time they were tipped generously. It’s something I’ll have to shake into the Avatars, apparently. The manager straight up cries when I leave both cards on file for the next time that Beel visits them and I leave them instructions on how to reach me if any of the Avatars get rowdy or leave an open bill.

Their gratuity and the way that I was stood up makes me pissed. Shoving my hands in my pockets and embracing the dark mood without reservation makes the usual demons who would harass me flare off and hide in the darker corners of the market.

My D.D.D has been silent this whole time despite close to a dozen calls and texts that I had sent to Lucifer. Either he’s ignoring his phone or he is dead and both options have their appeal right now.

The one night I feel like getting into a fight and no one tries to pull something. Some of the local children who recognize my more human form run to greet me and “steal” the leftovers that I took from the Ristorante Six employees for them. I can’t help the smile I give the “blob” child that was the distraction and slip them an extra treat for letting their friends practice on me. Once they are gone, tho, it’s hard to maintain the smile as this is just another reminder of how broken systems can be.

It's an odd reflection to see how children are forgotten amongst different cultures. For my dame’s, they are always hyper aware of how precious children could be, but as soon as we hit maturity that’s another story and leaves us open to all the blood prejudice that the species can harbor. Here? I am standing in front of the burnt out building that harbors the refuge for the children of the Devildom’s capital. Dia is a special kind of ruler, but even he can’t do everything.

A frustrated hiss leaves me and I feel the eyes of the children on me before I drop the rest of the food off for them and then turn away to allow the privacy they want for the scavenging they will do from the offering. I pretend not to hear the light, hurried footsteps or delighted exclamations of joy over such a little thing. It makes me want to shake Dia or break out of the Devildom early so I can bring these kids to my mother to be adopted amongst the clans, but I still don't know enough about their developmental lifespan.

For now, this has to be enough.

With Luci…

I have to pause and scowl at the dirt under my feet for a hot second as I contemplate what I want to do. My D.D.D. goes off in my pocket and I pull it out, smiling instantly at the notice. Dia. Our other lover, the one that hadn’t forgotten me once since coming here. 

Dia: Barbatos informs me that you just spent a large sum of money at Ristorante Six. Did you two have fun?

Me: Nope. You free?

Dia: I have several stacks of paperwork, but I would love to see you later. Perhaps that will serve as motivation to finish everything tonight. Should I be worried?

Frowning at the screen, I leave him on read for a moment as I collect my thoughts. My relationship with Luci is a little more intense because he is a sadist and likes to try to dominate the relationship where I feel it is unnecessary. Him standing me up tonight is just a new tactic that he hasn’t used before and it hurts, because I’ve been forgotten by others but never someone this important to me.

Dia and I have a little more...complex...of a relationship. It made our start a little rough because he had technically kidnapped the daughter of a dragon royal and he himself being a prince had set us on the entirely wrong foot. It was his persistence and warmth that had drawn me in where others had hurt me before.

So...

My heart was aching and Dia had never stood me up before. In fact, he was consistently trying to find ways to keep me and Lucifer with him for an extra couple of hours, however childish and inane those were sometimes were.

So...

Dia: Should I be worried?

His repeat in his text makes me smile and seals my decision. It's an easy one to make now that I reflect on things again.

Me: No. Lucifer stood me up and has ignored my calls. So, it wasn't very fun and I am coming over for a few days if that's ok?

The anxiety in my stomach is a knot as I hit send and watch the little dots that indicate he is typing something. Maybe I shouldn't have assumed...

Dia: I would love to have you over for a few days! Is everything else alright? Do you want me to do anything?

The little flutters in my stomach with his easy acceptance and offer of help leave me blushing a little. My bad mood evaporates a little more, but I retain a little niggling doubt because demons are so much like dragons.

Me: Did you do anything directly or indirectly that would have kept Luci from our date tonight?

Dia: Never. He's been working so hard recently, I thought it was a great idea for you two to have this date tonight. I'm shocked and very disappointed that he missed it.

Dia: But I am quite happy at the chance to have you to myself for a few days.

He's already planning how he can keep me in the palace all for himself for the next few days. After everything, all the heartbreak and the doubts and the second guessing, it's a hot feeling in my stomach to know that I am wanted. But...I know the boundaries I have to set. Lest things get out of hand.

Me: 48 hours, at a max, of making them hunt for me. We can arrange something else later down the line.

Dia: Deal. Now come over before I hunt you down.

Perhaps a thrilling thought for a different day...

It's exactly 48 hours later that Diavolo allows Lucifer to find us in his office. Lucifer is hovering on the threshold, his crimson eyes tracking the way that one of Dia's undershirts hangs off a shoulder and how I sit away from him on Dia's lap. He can clearly see the new and fading hickeys on my skin that Dia left there and knows for a fact that I don't keep clothes at the castle, so he also knows I am sitting in Dia's lap in nothing more than this shirt.

But I ignore him for now.

Diavolo bites the strawberry out of my fingers and glares over my shoulder as the study door clicks shut behind us. He takes my wrist and begins to delicately suck the juice from each finger. His golden eyes flash to mine and I just return his amusement with one of chagrin.

"Dia," I breathe at him and his gaze darkens.

"You've been hiding her," Lucifer observes. "For two days. My brothers have been mounting a very large search effort." It's a subtle dig at my feelings for his brothers and it turns my hard gaze to the scarlet, slitted gaze.

"Good for you," I say mildly, tuning back to Dia to sink my teeth into his neck, surprising a moan out of our lover.

"Lyssa, I do not believe this is the-" Lucifer begins.

"Fuck off and shut up or leave," I cut in, tugging at Dia's buttons. A glance up at his face confirms that he is totally invested in this, not that I had doubted his erection or the gentle hands on my hips.

"Lord Diavolo, this is hardly the time to-" Lucifer began again.

It was remarkably easy to launch myself off Diavolo's lap, plant a foot on his desk and leap at Lucifer, wings flaring in aggression. He caught me with his arms around my waist as we toppled over with my momentum. Lucifer landed on his back with a soft grunt and me straddling his hips with my hands on his shoulders, wings still flared as I stared down at his slightly parted lips.

"Two days and this is what you have to say for yourself?" I ask him, struggling to maintain the mildness of before. "Was this your way of saying it's over? Or are you just tired of spending time with me? What was more important two nights ago that kept you from even calling?" The tears are hard to choke back once my fears are voiced and his stare only remains blank and shocked. "Fine, I get it," I mutter and lean away from him, allowing my wings to Veil.

I attempt to push to my feet, but his hands tighten on my his as he purses his lips and studies me. "Two nights ago, I was dealing with Mammon and Satan for having broken into my study and stolen-"

"Let go of me," I snarl at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Allow me to explain," he says with infuriating patience.

"No." The word is a shriek of pain that has Diavolo wrenching me into his chest and knocking Lucifer's hands away from me.

"That's enough, Lucifer," Diavolo says with cutting gentleness as he strides towards the couch where he settles me in his lap. My arms wrap around his neck and I am sobbing into his neck as two days of pent up fear explode out of me in silent, wrenching gasps and tears. "Lyssa has been hiding with me since you stood her up two nights ago."

There is a slight scuff of shoes on the floor and the rustle of clothes as Lucifer tries to approach us, but Dia removes his hand from my waist and must hold him at arms length. His thigh muscles tighten and ripple beneath mine as he fights with himself, but I keep my head buried in his shoulder until the tears have eased and the shaking has ceased.

Dia's gentle hand through my hair rouses me and I look up at his concerned gaze, noting somewhere in my head that his other arm is still raised. "D?" I ask muzzily.

His lips are gentle on mine, a comforting touch after so much fear and a reminder that I am wanted. It's when his tongue slides with mine and begins stoking the embers of the earlier arousal that he jerks his extended arm and there's a gasp and thud that startles me from the kiss.

Turning to look behind us, I find Lucifer surprisingly close to us. More surprising is that he's on his knees in front of us, his hands on Diavolo's knees, and Dia's hand fisting his collar. Lucifer's expression is so fractured that I almost reach out to him.

A glance at Diavolo finds a molten, golden gaze flickering between us. Placing a kiss on his jaw lands that gaze on me and it softens into something gentle. "Are you feeling better, Lys?" he asks.

It's hard not to blush under the realization that they had watched me ugly cry into Diavolo's uniform. "A little," I mutter.

"Do you want answers from him now?" he asks. "Or do I send him away?"

He's giving me the control so easily that I stare at him for a second, then glance at Lucifer's desperate gaze. They're normally the dominant ones, the ones calling the shots and making the decisions in our relationship. It's not that I'm a submissive for them, it's just easier to flow along with them and more fun most of the time, whether in bed or in public.

"Lys," Lucifer says quietly and then gasps when Diavolo fists a hand in his hair and yanks his head back.

"Or we can punish him and get answers later?" Diavolo suggests thoughtfully, snaking an arm around my waist to shift me to straddle his thighs and face Lucifer, who has dropped his hands from Dia's knees. The blush deepens as Diavolo's erect cock rubs at my ass through his slacks. "I have a few ideas," he breathes into my ear and ruts gently into my bare ass. "But it's up to you, sweetling. We can stop and cuddle for the rest of the night if that's what you want."

Arousal overwhelms the fear and last traces of sadness as I study our positions. Diavolo has left the decisions to me tonight even with how clearly obvious what he wants is. But...

"Ease up a little, Dia. He can hardly breathe let alone answer a question," I request and Diavolo instantly releases him to lean back and slide his hands along my bare thighs as he continued his gentle ruts into me. They feel good and I arrange myself so that he's rutting into my core and not my ass. I lean forward towards Luci, who is watching us with growing hunger, and place my hands on Dia's knees to support myself.

Lucifer leans eagerly towards me to accept my kiss, but I knock his hands away when he reaches for me. He settles for twisting his gloved fingers into Diavolo's pants by my hands where I place them again. For a long minute, it's a desperate flurry of movement as Lucifer yields to my tongue and Diavolo's ruts turn into not-so-gentle grinding with his hands hard on my hips. I have to yank myself back from the kiss to breath and Dia halts his movements, though he does so with a desperate groan.

"Are you done with the relationship between you and I, Lucifer? And I am not talking about the sex. I ask about the emotional commitment we made to each other independent of everything between the three of us," I tell him and he almost surged in to hug me but Dia stopped him with a hand to his throat.

"She hasn't given permission for you to touch, Morningstar," Diavolo growled behind me.

Lucifer hits his knees again, his hands fisted in Dia's slacks close to where mine rest again. I lean back into Diavolo's broad chest and deny him even that closeness. His scarlet eyes flash with something like fear when he presses against Dia's hand.

"No, Lys, never," he answers and draws breath to say more but I press a finger to his lips and he stills.

"If I asked you to beg, would you?" I ask, feeling Diavolo widen our legs a little and groan softly.

Lucifer looked conflicted for a second but then nodded and felt heat rushed through me. Pride's embodiment had stood me up, but I had him on his knees now, willing to beg. I slipped a finger under his chin and rubbed his lips with my thumb. His tongue darted out to wet the digit and I slipped it into his mouth to let him suck on. I could feel Diavolo harden further beneath me.

"You're going to kill me, sweetling," Diavolo groaned with a sharp thrust that had me gasping.

"Then fuck me while I decide what we do with Luci," I ground out.

That was all the encouragement it took for Diavolo to lift me off his lap, unbuckle and free himself before he slammed my hips down to his in one sharp thrust. Stars burst behind my eyes at the slight burn of his girth stretching my cunt. Then his hands tightened on me so my hips wouldn't move and his thrusts were so long and deep that he fucked the strength out of my arms. I could only fall towards Lucifer and cling to his shoulders while I whimpered and gasped into his neck.

Diavolo didn't pause in his thrusts when I felt Lucifer move. He slapped the fallen angles hand down and growled. Then he leaned over my back and spread my legs to change the angle and was suddenly hitting that spot that had me almost screaming and then biting sharply into Luci's neck to muffle myself as I clenched down on Diavolo's cock with the force of my orgasm.

"Mine," he growled at our lover. "You left her alone, so mine until she allows your claim again."

The tears that slid down my face as he leaned back and continued to fuck me through my orgasm weren't entirely from oversensitivity. Wanted wasn't something I had felt a lot of throughout my life and this man, this demon prince, was claiming me. I could only curl my toes around his ankles and attempt to rock back into his body to be closer to him.

The taste of copper on my tongue had me squeezing and clenching on Dia's cock again and whimpering through another orgasm. Blood. Life blood, at that. I relaxed my jaw and just let myself float while he continued to use me as a fleshlight to chase his own orgasm and exhaust his stamina a little.

Heat filled my cunt as he thrust one last time and shot his seed into me. I was a whimpering mess and Luci's gasping breaths in my ear was the only grounding thing that kept me awake.

"Please," Luci breathed into my ear.

"Mmm," I hummed at him as I continued to lap at his blood, still oozing a little from the wound left by my fangs.

He shifted forward so that more of my weight rested on his chest. "Please, Lys," he continued. "I'll beg, but please let me touch you. I'm sorry. Please."

The memory of humiliation and fear rose in my chest and I growled at his words. He'd left me there with all those eyes on me in a public venue. Lucifer had forgotten me. Begging wouldn't reverse that humiliation or fear or the tears or the doubt it had caused.

"No," I told him, tears gathering.

Diavolo's warm hands slid up my stomach and gently cupped my breasts as he carefully shifted me back to lean into him. I groaned in protest of the heat but he slipped the shirt gently off me and it was a relief I hadn't realized I needed until I was gently kissing his neck. All while Dia was still rock hard in me.

Sated once for a demon wasn't the same kind of round as compared to a human, but he was kind enough to care for me and wait if I needed it. I groaned at Dia's tweaking of my nipples and sucking more bruises into my skin.

"Dia, please," I whimpered and his attentions eased except to wrap his arms around my cold breasts and continue to suck different hickeys into my neck. When he rocked into me again, his pace was gentle and slow and had me squirming in his arms as heat gently pooled in my stomach and spread until I was boneless on him.

"I love you, sweetling," he whispered into my ear as I came around his cock, squeezing and milking him through his own orgasm. His fingers were gentle as he wiped my tears away and continued to kiss me. "What do you want to do?"

Gold and scarlet gazes met and held before Luci dropped his from Diavolo's. "I'll leave if you want me to, Lys," he said quietly, moving to push himself to his feet.

My hand darted out and snatched his tie, pulling him in close for a kiss. Diavolo assisted in dragging him closer to us by grabbing a handful of his vest and pulling him flush. For a moment, Lucifer's hands fluttered at my sides before settling in Dia's hips and pressing as close as possible to us. For once, he didn't try and control the kiss as our tongues slid together with easy languidness.

I don't know how long the kiss lasted but a soft knock and a click had us pulling apart and looking over at Barbatos. "The other six avatars have arrived and are demanding to see Lyssa and Lucifer." He looked as unruffled as ever even as a blush dusted my cheeks and I was basically speared on Diavolo's cock in front of him. All three of them looked at me. Barbatos gaze held just a hint of amusement, Lucifer looked conflicted, and Diavolo just grinned at me. "Shall I pass along a message to them that you three are, shall we say, indisposed?" The amusement in his voice left me further blushing and hiding my face in Luci's neck.

"Yes, thank you, Barbatos," Diavolo said merrily. "If there is nothing more?"

"Just a reminder that you have several important meetings with outlying principalities tomorrow and paperwork that you have fallen behind on these last few days,"Barbatos said crisply and we both winced at that one. It hadn't been my intention, but I had distracted us from his work as the Devildom's prince.

My fingers slipped through Luci's hair as I considered him and frowned. I still wasn't anywhere close to being ready to forgive him but I also didn't want to go home just yet. His brothers would be barking up all sorts of trees, especially Asmo and Mammon.

There must have been something in my expression because Barbatos' next words were softened and aimed directly at me. "There is nothing today that cannot be pushed back until tomorrow, Lyssa. I will see to Lucifer's brothers and ensure that they are taken care of tonight. Reconciliation is more important to you and the Young Master at present and so should be prioritized," he said and I glanced up at him and wince back from the sympathetic gaze.

"So how far has the story traveled?" I ask, setting my chin on Lucifer's head.

"Not far at all. The employees who were present as well as some of the chattier guests have either been dealt with or bribed to keep quiet on the matter," Barbatos replied and Lucifer winced at that one. "Although, as it turns out, none of the staff would say one word of the incident until I myself spoke to them." There was a hint of amusement and pride in his voice that made me further blush. "That being said, I do believe I shall take my leave to ensure that Beel has not devoured the contents of the kitchen." The door clicked quietly shut behind him and left the three of us in silence.

"So," I said into that silence. "Barbatos and your brothers have now all seen me naked." It was difficult to keep a relationship like ours private in a house of seven rowdy brothers who all liked to burst randomly into Lucifer's room and study over little things. Diavolo's unhappy growl startled me into looking back at him. His lips were furrowed in a deep frown. "I am not moving to the palace just because my roommates lack personal space boundaries. You know they would just all follow me here. And no, that's not a good idea either. They need space to be themselves and you need to keep up some appearances."

He was actually pouting at that and I could only chuckle at his expression before laying a kiss on his jaw. Then, my gaze flickered to Lucifer again, who was watching me with an expression of mixed longing and frustration. It twinged a little at my conscience that he was still on his knees waiting for something that would set things right with us. I pushed at his shoulders and he sat back on his heels.

To Diavolo, I said, "I need to get cleaned up and Lucifer and I need to talk." I saw the excuses to accompany us brewing and added, "Alone. And you need to catch up on some of your work." The pout intensified and I laughed. "Just because Barbs gave you blanket approval for today doesn't mean you should abuse it. Just give us some space and we'll have dinner in your rooms tonight."

It wasn't so easy to extract myself from Dia's grip but I managed it and snagged the shirt he had tossed aside while he made himself presentable again. The kiss he dropped on me when I turned around was both sweet and gentle, making me lean into it until I realized what he was trying to do. I broke away with a laugh and smacked his shoulder. "I will see you in a bit, love," I told him and he smiled.

Lucifer was still kneeling where we had left him and his expression brought me up short. He was staring at Dia with unbridled jealousy? Dia must have seen the look but had chosen to ignore it.

"Luci?" I asked, holding out a hand to him.

The expression melted away as he took my fingers in his and shifted to his feet. We stared at each other for a moment before I pulled him along behind me. The walk to a guest room was quiet with nothing more than the tap of my bare feet on the marble. The servants that we passed gave us a sidelong glance but didn't even blink at the sight of Luci and I. It was an open secret among them that Diavolo and Lucifer had become involved with the "human." They also knew better than to gossip about us, lest Barbatos overhear something.

We took the first guest room we came across and Lucifer opened the door for me to enter before him. By the time he had closed it, I had bounced down onto the bed to watch his approach. What surprised me was that he knelt in front of me and settled between my legs, draping his arms over my thighs so as to touch me without actually touching me. Draping my own arms over his shoulders, I leaned into him and pressed our foreheads together.

"So, you're not done with this relationship but you still stood me up at the restaurant," I summarized for him and then kissed him into silence when he would have spoken. "Let me guess, Mammon broke into your study and Satan used that as a chance to steal your phone. Your entire calendar was deleted somehow and you spent the evening distracted by punishing your brothers."

"Levi-Levi erased the phone's contents," Lucifer said thickly. "Without knowing it was mine. Asmo was the one to remind me. He was...livid." His lips on mine were tentative and a question and he drew back when I didn't reciprocate. "I missed you by ten minutes." It wasn't an apology, but I had denied him of that earlier. "By then your phone was off and it took me too long to get anything out of the staff."

"Hours, Luci," I said mildly and the regret in his expression almost broke my anger, but not quite. "You made me feel unwanted and left me humiliated in public. If we didn't have Diavolo in this with us, I probably would have gone home, sparked a giant fight, and dumped you." I rubbed a hand across his throat, enjoying the little hitch in his breathing. "Instead, I made you and your brothers run around the Devildom for two days while I was here with Dia."

"They were all worried sick," he said distractedly.

"And I'll have a chat with them tomorrow. For now, let's focus on us, yes," I tell him.

"What...can I do to make it up to you?" he asked, pushing a little more into my space. It was like he could sense the cooling of my ire. "Let me make it up to you." His tone had dropped to sultry and he was starting to push me back into the bed, leveraging his knees under mine to usher me back. I didn't resist, but I gave him absolutely no help.

"If I say no?"

He froze, halfway to getting me to his intended destination. "Then I would ask for a chance to court you again, to show that this is not something that will happen again. To show that you can still trust me."

"And if I asked for something else to give you that chance?"

"Anything," he promised, stretching his body out along mine on the bed.

My hands on his face bring him down to kiss me and I let him get away with that...for now. "What have I said about that word?" I chide him.

He actually smiles at that, relief beginning to ease in. "To be careful of it unless we could give you the whole of the realm," he answered, the old disagreement coming easier with time. "Because one day you might actually take up that offer and we look forward to it."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not Madrigora," I tease him right back.

"If you were Maddi the Great witch, we would not have fallen for you," he stated, running his fingers over my face. His kiss is easy, then. "What would you ask in return for the chance to court you again?"

"The usual. Just promise not to use and discard me if you ever get tired of me. Don't do it again," I say and if my voice is a little tight then he chooses to overlook it with another easy kiss.

"Of course, my heart," he whispers against my skin. "I will swear it in blood if you want me to. I will never tire of you and I will never stand you up again."

I let him have his way for a little while, just touching and cuddling with kisses to reacquaint ourselves with each other. It's as I can feel his desire is awakening that I pull back with the broadest smile I have ever given him. Slipping my arms around his neck, he returns my smile without a hint of a clue as to what I am going to do next.

"Luci?"

"Hmm..."

"I never gave you permission to touch." He freezes above me and seems to do a review of the last hour. "Me giving you my hand does not imply an invitation to touch."

His shrewd look makes me laugh and I can't resist the urge to run my hands through his dark locks. "Well, my heart, what shall we do about this infraction on my part?"

I give him an amused look. "Let's start with a bath and go from there." The bath itself is a fun way to reconnect with him and he takes exaggerated care to implore my permission with every touch. By the time we were done and dressed with clothes Barbatos had somehow laid out for us, the bathroom was sopping wet with water everywhere.

When we stepped out of the room, the servants waited for all of three seconds before rushing in. The way they still wouldn't look at me had bothered me before but it didn't any more after I found out what they had tried and Barbs fierce reeducation among their ranks.

One of the succubi directed us towards the gardens that Dia was fond of and it was an easy walk as we discussed his brothers and the roles they had played. Levi was ruled innocent because it seemed like Satan had tricked Levi into the prank, thinking it would lessen guilt by association. Belphie had slept through the entire thing. Beel hadn't had anything to do with it. Asmo had attempted to fix the issue when he had learned of it and we both agreed that Mammon had been uninvolved except to break in in the first place and steal something unrelated.

It was as we approached the gardens that we first heard the soft murmur of familiar voices and then Asmo's high laugh. Barbatos was whisking away a tray of empty dishes when he caught sight of us. He gave me a chagrined look and then carried on his way.

Everyone was present and chatting happily, except Mammon and Levi, over several trays of food. Two servants flitted about here and there refilling glasses and food. One seemed intent on keeping Beel's plate full and preventing him from consuming the table, untensils, plates, glassware, or anything else of a non-consumable variety. Mammon and Satan were sitting on complete opposite sides of the table, Satan involved in his own conversation with Levi over a book. Levi kept glancing around nervously and then froze when he saw me on Lucifer's arm. Asmo kept sliding up to the second servant and getting handsy, which he didn't seem to mind and even seemed to enjoy the attention. Belphie was snoring against his twin's shoulder. Mammon's face went white when he saw us, too.

"Lys!" Mammon yelled and sprang up to half sprint at me and engulf me in a hug. He completely missed the flash of jealousy on Diavolo's face at the action.

Asmo abandoned the servant to sweep in on the hug. Beel waved happily at us and carefully did not wake his youngest brother. Everyone else just stared at us in varying degrees of fear and-in Satan's case-seething rage.

I wrapped an arm around Mammon and Asmo's necks and let them lift me off the ground. It was when Asmo went for a butt grope that I shrieked with laughter and swatted him off. At least he knew he was safe.

"Where ya been, Lys? I been worried sick about ya," Mammon muttered into my hair before releasing me.

"I've been right here," I answered him, floating over to Diavolo and kissing his forehead. The crease in his lips eased a bit as he caught my hand and kissed my palm before letting me drift away. I didn't usually flaunt my romantic relationships openly in front of them, but

"I'm sure you had a grand old fucking time while we were looking for you," Satan sneered at me.

I smiled at him. "And whose fault is that, Tantan?" I shoot back sweetly and he flinches at that. He hasn't liked me using his nickname since I became involved with his brother and his lord.

I walk towards him, opening our pact just enough that his cold, twisted wrath can leak through and touch my even colder rage. There was so much pain laced through my rage that he flinched back from me and refused to meet my eye. Instead, I leaned down to his eye level and waited for him to look at me out from under his mop of blonde hair, his lips twisted in an unhappy frown.

"No one and, I mean no one, gets to make me feel unwanted and humiliated in any capacity," I tell him.

Satan knew what I was driving at, knew what I was saying, but he chose to ignore it anyway. His smile was so stiff and fake that it hurt just to look at it. "So I guess you and Lucifer are done, then," he shot back.

"Satan!" Asmo gasps in horror and even Mammon is staring at their brother, aghast.

In answer, I smile and turn away from him, stalking towards the frowning first-born. I don't give him time to react when I seize his golden belt and pull him in close for a passionate kiss that he returns. Asmo's gasp and the click of a camera are the only sounds as I wrap an arm around Luci's neck to prolong the sensation. I let myself enjoy the kiss for a good minute and then lean back. His eyes are half lidded and roving my body hungrily. Glancing over my shoulder, I grinned at the horribly blushing Satan.

"I guess not," I said.

"Do that again," Asmo says happily.

"No, Asmo," I return. "I think once made my point."

"Oh, yes, it made a point for me that I'll thoroughly enjoy later," he said with a wink. "And several other points, if you catch my drift." He subtly nodded at Diavolo who was studying us in a way that made me suddenly self-conscious.

"Yes, well. You'll be deleting that photo, Asmo," Lucifer cut in. "Hand your phone over so that I am sure it's gone."

Asmo clutched his phone protectively. "No! I never get any good photos of you and that was perfect!" Lucifer growled and stalked off after his brother when Asmo took off.

Satan was silent after that, his angry gaze tracking my every move. Diavolo let me float around between the other four brothers for a while, soothing and cajoling them in each their own way. I could see Mammon thinking he had gotten away with everything as he became more relaxed and animated through the meal. The demonus was eventually brought out and a disgruntled Asmo and Luci returned. Diavolo snagged my waist and pulled me into his lap and all chatter ceased for a moment, even the servants. Then Asmo started admonishing Lucifer for taking out a chunk of his photos instead of just the one.

The servants nervously glanced at each other and then returned to their respective tasks. Beel continued to shovel food into his mouth and Belphie was still asleep. Satan turned an interesting shade of magenta. Levi continued on pestering Mammon about Grimm he was owed.

"Feeling possessive?" I teased Dia quietly.

"Jealous," he admitted, pressing a kiss to my neck.

We didn't usually advertise the relationship even if it was an open secret among the brothers and palace servants. "Why?" I asked him, trailing a hand through auburn locks.

He looked conflicted for a second and then gave me his public smile and I almost smacked him. I hate that smile, the look of genial mirth in which no one could ever penetrate deep enough to find the demon below. It was his lonely smile.

"You came to me but you go home with them in the morning," he said lightly. "It's been nice having you here the last two days."

Ah.

And suddenly, reading his behavior is so much easier from today. He's struggling with the idea that I am abandoning him after getting a taste of something that he wanted. Luci comes when called for dinner and evening activities but I chose to run to him during a potential relationship ending screw up on Luci's part and now the problem has been more or less resolved. I chose and I stayed and now it's bringing up some of his issues with abandonment now that I leave in the morning again.

"Not yet, Diavolo," I murmured to him. "You can't just end thousands of years of society and not see bloodshed and war. You're doing this the right way if you want a demon male consort and female, non-demon consort and do what is right for your people." I placed a lingering kiss on his temple as he pressed an ear over my heart.

The servants were looking at us again and I frowned at them until they ducked their heads and went about their duties again. I made no mention of the odd behavior again as Diavolo continued to hold me close. It was Mammon's eye that I caught and nodded towards Asmo when he kept making passes at the receptive servant. There was simply something I hadn't liked about those interactions and it was better safe than sorry. Meanwhile the others continued to wind down and Luci had a few glasses of demonus to be completely relaxed and Dia did the same, becoming progressively more handsy with me under the table. It's when I intercepted Dia's hands again on my knee that Barbatos appeared with what looked like night caps for everyone.

Beel was watching me closely as he kept an eye on Belphie and Levi, keeping the latter from tipping over into his own food. Asmo had vanished a bit ago to find a different bed partner with Mammon hot on his tail and Satan...was still watching us from where he was slumped in his own little corner. Diavolo noticed the intent of Satan's gaze and set his chin in my shoulder. Satan turned a bright red under his lord's sudden regard but refused to drop his gaze.

Diavolo's smirk catches me off guard as does the sudden way that he grips the top of my thigh under my dress. His possessive kiss and the slide of his fingers into my core have me gasping against him when his thumb gently circles my clit. His other hand settles on my hip and keeps me from bucking into the feeling and all I can do is grip his dress shirt as he fucks me hard on those fingers. The sudden stop has me clenching on him and whining.

"Mine," he rasps at me and I try for a kiss that he denies me. "Say it and I'll make you cum."

"Yours," I snarl and then scream as he plunges his fingers in again and grinds down on my clit. The smirk he directs over my shoulder makes me growl. Putting me on display for his own amusement and to stake his claim? Fine. I grip his wrist when he makes to pull back. It's satisfying to watch the smirk turn to shock when I move to straddle his hips with his hand still inside me. "Again. And do it right. Make me fucking scream it so everyone knows."

I feel his dick start to harden in his pants under me. "Out," he starts to command everyone but his words end with a moan when I capture his lips and slide my tongue into his mouth. I'm fucking his mouth like that when Asmo comes running back to the gardens and then stops and full on stares.

"Again," I demand with a snarl.

"Lys," Lucifer starts forward and then pauses under my look.

"Consequences, Lucifer," I rasp and he blushes when I fuck myself on Diavolo's fingers. To Diavolo, I say, "Again or you can fuck this fist for a month by yourself."

He rocks his fingers out of me for a moment and I release his wrist. Four fingers slide back into me and I'm arching into the feeling with a low moan. His other hand finds my breast and he squeezes possessively. "Mine," he rasps out, thrusting his fingers and circling his thumb on my clit. "Scream it and I'll maybe let you cum."

"Make me," I grunt and he's smirking again. My stomach drops at that look.

His pace then is relentless and hard, his fingers hitting my g-spot and making me gasp. "Say it," he demands, stopping suddenly and making me curl into him with a whimper. His thumb lifts and I'm screaming "Yours" in a desperate chant. His free hand slides to my hip and stops the little rocking I'd been doing. "Beg."

Frustration wells up in me as I try and continue to rock, but his hand is a solid weight against my skin. "Please, please, please." The last word is almost a scream.

"No," he says with an easy smile and I slump into him with a sob. My hands claw at his jacket when he gently teases my clit again.

"Dia, please," I cry at him but his lips seal over mine, muffling my words.

Hands smooth down my back and settle on my shoulders, then Lucifer is leaning into my back, trapping me between them. "Games are all well and good, but I believe a more private venue is in order for the rest of this evening," he breathes into my neck, his hardened cock pressed flush to my ass.

I moan around the tongue leisurely exploring my mouth. Tears well up as the fingers slip out of me and are then held up Luci. Crimson eyes meet mine briefly before Lucifer takes Diavolo's wrist and wraps his tongue around the first digit.

Diavolo leaned back, still smiling and I suddenly knew what he was going to say. I dropped my head to his shoulder and moaned as he said it.

"She started it here and she'll finish here." The smile in his velvety voice was genuine, as was the lust that sent shivers up my spine. "You cannot tell me you've never wanted the chance to claim her in front of your brothers."

I knew better than to argue with him, I really, really did, but... "You started this, Dia," I muttered at him and he laughed low in his throat.

"I was content to let you finish after the first time. You started this," Diavolo replied, rolling his hips into my slick core and dragging his clothed cock against me. Heat pushes me up and almost...

"Dia," I scream in frustration, balling my hands into a fist and hitting his shoulder.

His golden eyes danced merrily as pulled Lucifer's hand to my waist. "Yes, sweetling?" He asks innocently.

"Please," I return quietly.

He looked like he was thinking it over but Luci was tracing my sides like he was contemplating ripping the dress off my body. "There is a way for you to end this," Diavolo says, his eyes flickering up and then around.

"No pacts," I say automatically and he pursed his lips as he looked back to me. "Fuck me in front of them if you like, but I won't order them to do anything." His eyes flickered between Luci and I for a long moment.

"Are you sure?" He asks and I scowl at him.

"Do you want me to safeword out?" I snarl and his gaze softens.

"No, sweetling. It was just a thought," he says, cupping my cheek and kissing me. It was a sweet thing that turned into a gasp when Luci shifted my dress up a few inches.

The touch of leather gloves on my hips has me moaning into the kiss and trying to wriggle back and forth to find friction, but I was still trapped between them and Diavolo's hands kept me anchored in his lap. Diavolo looks up at Luci and apparently got what he needed because he sat back and released my waist, only to have Lucifer's hands take his place and lift me into his chest just enough that Diavolo could undo his belt and work himself free of his boxers. The long, thick shaft had me clenching in anticipation of the coming pounding.

Like this afternoon, Diavolo took my hips and pushed into me in one long thrust, leaving us both moaning at the stretch of him in me. I sink my teeth into Diavolo's neck and he makes a low noise at the feeling of it. Dia's hands hold me flush to his hips as his eyes dart up again before Luci steps away from us for a moment.

"Think you can handle us both?" Lucifer asks me softly, biting the finger of his glove and pulling it off to toss it somewhere out of my sight. His cool finger sliding into my ass has me clenching down hard on them.

"Lucifer," Diavolo moans out. "Keep doing that and I won't last."

"Oh?" Luci asks and I can hear his smirk as he thrusts another in.

Stars are popping in front of my eyes and I tense up further, tears starting to fall. Releasing my teeth from his neck, I plead, "Dia. Please. I need to cum, want to."

He rocks his hips up a little, just rutting into me without enough friction. It has me panting and sinking claws into his jacket with a frustrated gasp. "Relax, sweetling," he chuckles. "Keep begging and you might get to cum before we're finished with you."

So I do until I'm almost babbling as Lucifer continues to work me open with my own slick for lube and Diavolo continues his little ruts. Asmo is the only one that dares to creep around into my sight. It's his blue gaze and the light dusting of a blush over his cheeks that finally reminds me of the other Avatars.

The words die in my throat as embarrassment rears up. Looking away, I bite down onto the tendon of Diavolo's neck and startle a sharp gasp out of him. Hot seed fills me and he pauses in his motions at the same time as Lucifer.

"Now, Lucifer," Diavolo growls and pulls himself out just to slam me back down on himself. Pleasure makes my eyes roll up and give a strangled sob against Dia's neck as a second cockhead pushes slowly at the muscles of my ass.

"Hold her steady," Luci chides our lover.

Strong hands grip my ass and part me for Lucifer as he eases in, taking his time to let me clench and unclench around them. He rocks out and then a little further in each time until he is balls deep inside me, stuffing me full with both cocks.

Tears are flowing freely as I struggle with the burn and ache between them. I'm limp when Diavolo starts thrusting and then Luci joins him, jostling me between their bodies like a living doll. My teeth remain tight in Dia's neck, making my jaw ache and all I can do is whimper.

Luci runs a hand through my hair and then fists his fingers in my locks, yanking my head back sharply. No longer muffled, my moans and screams echo through the garden. His free hand slides down my stomach to my clit and he flicks it, making me scream and plunge over the edge. They continue to fuck me through the orgasm at a brutal pace and then continue to chase their own pleasure.

Lucifer keeps me on a tight edge between the pleasure and pain of multiple orgasms, expertly playing my body and keeping me boneless against his chest. Diavolo kept my thighs tight to his and my ankles propped on his knees so he could change the angle of their thrusts with his hips. My hands rest on Luci's shoulders behind me and weakly grip at his jacket when they hit my g-spot.

At some point, the dress is ripped off and Luci continues his torment of my breasts free of the cloth. They both spill their seed numerous times until they're fucking into me and pushing slick and semen down my thighs and onto their slacks. It keeps going like that until Diavolo pushes up from the chair and uses his hips to maneuver Lucifer into stepping back against the table and traps me firmly between their chests. My bare feet brush the ground and I groan at the cold.

Diavolo's warm hands cup my face and he gently peppers my cheeks and forehead with soft kisses. "You've done so well for us, sweetling," he says, his eyes darting over my shoulder to Luci. "Just a little longer and you can rest." Louder, he growls at the other avatars, "Leave. Now."

Levi is watching us with wide eyes and a hand over his mouth, but at Diavolo's words he's gone faster than a hunted rabbit. Belphie is draped over Beel's shoulder and the other four reluctantly and slowly drag themselves out of the garden. Beel's reluctance comes from his protective, backwards glanced at me and only stops when I drape myself over Diavolo's shoulder to wave weakly at them. Asmo lingers by the palace door until Mammon grabs him by the scruff and physically drags the Avatar of Lust away with one last worried look at me. It's Satan who stubbornly remains seated, though I can't actually see him.

"I can take care of Lyssa if you're done with her," Satan grinds out.

Very clearly still aroused and both still tucked inside of me, they were not done with sex for the evening, with or without me. Exhaustion might be making me hang limply between them, but I was not going to let Satan touch me like this. That would be one boundary too many crossed for me today.

A growl rumbles up from Diavolo and Lucifer's chests and vibrates through mine. Luci's hands tighten possessively on my hips.

"Leave," Diavolo reiterates.

"Do not make more trouble for yourself, Satan," Luci warns quietly.

Stupidly, I can hear his footsteps approach. Diavolo bursts into his demon form, making me groan at the way he stretches me out that much further. If I hadn't been holding onto him, he would have attacked Satan. As it was, I tucked my head under his chin and looked at the usually intelligent Avatar of Wrath. The look that he gave me was one mixed of despair, desire, and longing.

"You want to leave with me, don't you, Lys?" Satan asks, stopping just outside of Lucifer's striking range.

Luci was watching me with more patience than I had and very carefully trying to control the temper I could see in his eyes so as not to transform as well. Diavolo's wings curled around us protectively but I could still see Satan's blue eyes trying to plead with me. He took a single step towards us, raising a hand, and I snarled weakly at him.

My wings unVeiled and threaded gently through the gap of Diavolo's and I placed a clawed hand possessively on Luci's. "Mine," I growl. "G'way, Tantan." The draconic features Veil again at Satan's pained look before he retreats without another word.

Lucifer is looking at me with a surprising softness after the rough treatment. Diavolo kisses my head and says, "I love you, too, sweetling."

And they are still fucking hard inside of me. The thought of another round has me whimpering with a little fear. "Please," I half sob into Dia's mantle. "No more. Please, Dia."

Too late, I realize I shouldn't have tried begging again. Luci and Dia both groan and I give an actual sob, clutching at Diavolo's chains as he pushes me harder into Luci's body. "One more, sweetheart," he murmurs into my hair, thumbs wiping away my tears. "You have one more, don't you? You do." Luci begins to suck a new mark into my neck as Dia pulls out and starts to rock his hips again.

"Marigold," I sob out and they instantly shift gears. "Marigold." Their hands are gentle at the safeword and disentangle our bodies. It's a relief when they pull out of me but leaves me achingly empty.

Lucifer steps from behind me and Diavolo hoists me onto the cold table. Dazed, I let the clean me up as best they can in the garden and then Diavolo carries me because I refuse to let go of his chains. Lucifer goes ahead of us to make sure the way is clear and at some point, I drift off.

Later, I come to in a warm bath with Diavolo's chest to my back and Luci sitting on the other end of the bath. He's gently rubbing the sole of my right food and working his way up the calf while Dia keeps me from accidentally drowning. His touch is so gentle against the aches across my whole body that I groan and then cough at the rawness of my throat. A glass of water appears before I can ask and Dia holds it for me as I sip on it.

Diavolo sets the glass aside and kisses the top of my head. "Hi," I manage to Luci, who had been watching carefully.

"Hi," he returns softly with a smile.

Rolling my head back, I meet Diavolo's pleased gaze. "Hello, sweetheart," he murmurs.

"That was...intense," I croak.

"You lasted longer than I thought," he replies. "Thank you." He shifts and I eye him warily and his chest rumbles with a deep laugh. "We're re done with you for tonight, promise."

"Feeling better?"

His smile is cat-like and lazy. "Much. I doubt Satan will try anything like this again," he says and Lucifer pauses in his massage of my left calf.

I look at him and find an expression of mild regret and chagrine on his face. "I am sorry, my heart. I shouldn't have let my brothers distract me in the first place. It was...unwise...of me to neglect you. Will you forgive me?"

My throat is still raw but I open my arms to him in response. He carefully crawls between my legs and hugs me tightly to his chest. The rest of the bath is quiet as he returns to his massage of my body. I drift in and out as Luci and Dia discuss small matters they would need to review the next day and I wake to Diavolo's gentle fingers in my hair as he massages the conditioner into my scalp.

Lucifer is elsewhere.

I glance questioningly up at Dia and then look pointedly around the bathroom before back at him. He smiles and kisses my head again. "I asked him to get some things ready for us," he says, helping me to rinse my hair out. "We might be done with you for tonight, but I am hardly through with him. Do you want to watch or rest? Or we can just cuddle for the rest of the night."

The idea of watching sent a thrill of arousal through me but made me wince at the throb of aches that it also set off. Still, it wasn't often that Luci allowed Dia to indulge in their stamina and not something I wanted to miss.

"Watch," I say firmly and his deep laugh sends water cascading over the edge of the tub.

After I am dry and bundled into a large robe, Dia carries me out to his bedroom where Luci is waiting for us. He's dressed in only a low hanging pair of slacks that leaves hardly anything to the imagination where they taper down at the v of his hips. He watches us with a hint of nervousness as Dia settles me on the couch and takes care to wrap me in a blanket and ensure I have access to plenty of water and honey that Barb had dropped off.

When Dia is satisfied that I am comfortable, he finally turns to Lucifer and lets his gaze track hungrily down our lovers body. Lucifer's cheeks dust with a bit of color and I realize he's going to sub tonight for Dia. Oh! An even rarer occurrence since he hardly ever gives up control.

"Knees, Morningstar," Dia croons and Luci slowly goes down, eyes flickering between us. Dia tugs the towel from his hips and drops it as he walks to Lucifer, his shaft already visibly hardening. Taking his face in his hands, Dia continues, "Do you want to explain to her or shall I?"

Luci glances at me and the blush is in full effect. "Diavolo believes that you are being too lenient with me and wishes to see to my punishment," he explains. "With your input."

Both of them are watching me now and, oh, wow. Talk about feeling wanted. "Y-yeah," I stammer. "That sounds good. Um...how?"

"Since I like making excuses, Diavolo will have me make better use of my mouth...on him," Luci explains with the blush beginning to creep down his chest. After that, he glances at Diavolo, who is smiling that smile again.

"At first, then we'll have to see what interests you," Diavolo finishes for him. "But I wanted to ask you to make an exception to your no using your pact without an emergency." He lazily pumps a hand along his cock and smirks as I watch the motion. "Will you place an order on Luci to only cum when you command him for the next twelve hours?"

My eyebrows shoot up at the timeframe. "Twelve hours?" I repeat.

"My suggestion, Lys," Luci says quietly. "I would like your commands tonight, to ensure your words are thoroughly engraved in my memory."

Well, then...ok. Drawing on our pact is almost as easy as breathing and opening it between us allows a wave of love and regret to wash through me. "Lucifer, you will cum only when I command it for the next twelve hours." The command stretched between us like a physical caress and the pact slipped down to an unconscious link again, there but not.

Lucifer made a noise when Diavolo gripped his hair in one hand and pressed the head of his cock to Luci's lips with the other. His hands flew to Diavolo's hips as Dia fed him his cock and forced his jaw to accept the girth.

"Fuck, yes," Dia pants when Luci's throat bulges and his balls met his chin. "So good." Without giving him time to adjust, Dia took his fistful of hair and drew himself back to thrust forward. Luci made a choking sound at the fast intrusion but could only swallow at Diavolo's brutal pace of bobbing our lover's head and thrusting his own hips.

Diavolo's gaze is half lidded as he continues to use Luci's mouth without cease until he jerks his hips one last time and held Luci to him with a low moan. His head rolls back as his abdomen muscles ripple as he shoots his load in Lucifer's throat, making the former angel dig his nails into Dia's hips as he struggles to swallow around the cock.

The heated, golden gaze turns to me and I feel flush again. "Again," I order and he smiles beautifully.

Tears are streaming down Lucifer's face by the time Dia cums a third time in his mouth and spit and semen are dribbling down his chin. Diavolo pauses again and looks at me. "Sweetling?" He asks, voice breathy.

I watch Luci's gaze dart to me as his fingers flex hard on Dia's hips with the effort of not pulling himself off Diavolo's cock. His chest heaves as he inhales deeply through his nose. "Ease up, Dia," I say and Diavolo releases the former angel, who jerks back to wheeze and cough.

"Quite the mess you've made, Luci," Diavolo chuckles. "Clean it up." Diavolo's hand is gentle on Luci's head as he guides our lover's face to his still hardened shaft again. Lucifer catches his glare and instead glances at me before complying, licking and sucking at Dia teasingly until the larger demon is moaning and has to jerk Lucifer off himself. He strokes himself and then pinches his fingers at the base of his shaft to prevent from spilling another load. "Should I cum all over that pretty face of yours or start fucking your tight ass?"

Lucifer makes a low noise in his throat and my blush deepens with Dia's filthy words. Usually he doesn't do this, but I guess he's in the right mood for it.

"Luci?" I prompt in his silence. "Will you continue to try and make excuses about what happened?"

He gives me a wide-eyed look. "N-no," he coughs. "I-"

Diavolo's hand yanking his head back with a fistful of hair cuts off his words and the dick rammed into his mouth again has him coughing and choking on it. He's face fucked again at a brutal pace and Diavolo groans loudly when he cums. "Don't speak unless it is to beg or answer our questions," Dia orders him, rutting his hips a little and continuing to choke Luci on his cock. "Understood?"

Luci coughs again when Diavolo yanks him back. "Y-yes," he manages.

"Yes, what?" Diavolo demands.

"Yes, my lord," Lucifer says softly.

The demon lord gives our lover a long look before he drags him up by the hair and wraps an arm around his waist, bringing them flush together for a kiss. Luci fights for control for a second but a sharp tug to his slacks and even sharper slap to his ass has him gasping and lets Dia take over again. The handprint is bright red against his light skin and my gaze lingers on it for a moment.

"Luci, Dia," I call softly and they break apart to look at me. "How did that make you feel?"

Diavolo frowns at me in confusion but Lucifer turns an even brighter shade of red. "Shocked," he murmurs.

"And?"

Diavolo gives the former angel a thoughtful look as his hands slip back to Luci's ass and start to knead the flesh. Luci gasps and bucks his hips at the touch, grinding his own shift into Dia's stomach.

"And?" Diavolo prompts again.

Lucifer struggles visibly with himself and Diavolo slaps his ass again. Then again and again until Luci is bucking against him to try and escape the blows.

"Cum for me, Lucifer," I order as Dia lands another slap and Lucifer gives a sob as his seed spills onto their stomachs and clings to Diavolo's shoulders.

"Please," he says, but Dia grins at the reaction.

Golden eyes flicker to me and I can read the mischief in them. "Couch or bed, sweetling?" he asks and Lucifer buries his face in Dia's neck with a strangled moan.

I consider the mischief. "Couch. I want to touch the both of you," I answer and Diavolo's smile turns into a smirk.

Lucifer puts up a small resistance as Dia manhandles him to the couch and turns him around by the couch arm. Diavolo lets him stand for a minute so that I can admire Lucifer's body and the long, slender cock that is still hard. Sweat is starting to sheen across their skin and I can smell the sex on their skin as I crawl towards them. Hazy, scarlet eyes track my movements and he shivers at the first touch of fingers on his stomach. I wince when I try and sit up on my heels.

"Sit," Diavolo orders me and I fall back onto my ass. To Luci, he says, "Bend over." He does so with a hesitant glance over his shoulder and then at me. I scoot forward until I can catch his lips before he fully settles onto the arm rest. Diavolo presses a hand to the small of his back and he breaks the kiss to settle his hips over the swell of the arm rest with his head in my lap and one arm looped around my waist.

"Beautiful," Diavolo murmurs, his eyes raking across our bodies. "How are you feeling, sweetling?"

"Sore," I answer him, threading my fingers through dark locks. "Better but still sore."

Lucifer slides his free hand into my robe and I let him open it enough to have skin contact with me. "I'm sorry, Lys," he murmurs and then yelps when Diavolo slaps his ass sharply.

"Since you can't follow directions, we'll continue your spanking and you will count to fifty. One miscount and we continue until my hand gets tired or Lys believes you have learned your lesson," Diavolo cheerfully informs the fallen angel. "Understood?"

His grip on my hips tightens a little and, with a small whimper, says, "Yes, my lord."

Except Dia doesn't start right away. Instead, he slips a finger into Luci's ass and has him squirming in pleasure. "Cum for me, Luci," I whisper to him and he moans with the orgasm.

Diavolo's hand cracks across his ass then and Lucifer shouts. The demon lord pauses for a second and Lucifer drags the first count out somehow. After that, Diavolo is relentless in the spanks that he delivers, varying the rate and strength at which each were delivered, but Luci somehow manages to keep the count until thirty-five. Diavolo looks at me and smiles, his question silent.

"Cum for me, my love," I whisper again and Lucifer gives a broken moan at the orgasm and Diavolo's sudden intrusion. "Again." And he does, clenching down on Diavolo's fingers. "Again." He cums with a small sob and Diavolo glances at me. "Again."

"Lys, please," Lucifer moans. "I am sorry. Please. Not again. Not again."

"Cum for me," I murmur and he presses his face into my stomach with a strangled scream.

Diavolo is staring at me hungrily, all movements ceased. Then, he removes his fingers and smooths a hand across Luci's reddened skin. He keeps eye contact with me as he slaps Luci's ass again.

"T-thirty-five!" Luci half screams into my stomach and Diavolo smiles. "N-no! That wasn't a miscount. It was..." he struggles for the right words as he realizes his mistake "...a recount!"

"It sounded like a miss to me," Diavolo muses to me, continuing to work Luci open on his fingers. "What do you think, Lys?"

Lucifer tightens his hold on me to an almost painful degree and his back tremble under my touch. I knead the meat of his shoulders and answer, "I think... that's enough...for now."

Diavolo pouts at that but doesn't argue as he pulls back from Luci and then helps the other demon to find his feet and collapse beside me with his face in my stomach again. I watch Diavolo re-emerge from the bathroom a moment later and watch as he cleans Luci with a warm rag.

"You're very...intense tonight, Dia," I say, coaxing Lucifer to drink some water. My eyes trail over Diavolo's still half-hard member and then glance back at him. "Are you still jealous?"

He avoids eye contact with me then as he tucks a blanket around me and Lucifer. "Yes," he says finally.

"Of what?" I ask, reaching a hand for him.

He twines our fingers for a moment and just stares at them. "You seem to love Lucifer more," he admits softly. "And he's able to spend more time with you than I can, which means your bond is stronger over time. If he hadn't stood you up, I never would have had this chance." He follows the tug of my hand and lets me put his hand on my cheek.

"Our relationships are fundamentally different, Dia," I sigh. "I don't love Luci more or less than you, just differently." I kiss his palm and he sits down at my back and wraps his other arm around my waist.

"You forgave him so easily when you would have made me beg much longer."

I hesitate and search his golden eyes for sadness or anger, but there was nothing. Masking his emotions, then. "You're right, but you're also wrong," I admit and he shifts us so that he can see my face. "I expect the two of you to learn from each other's mistakes the way I learn from yours and Luci's with each other. If you stand me up on one of our dates in the future, so I would make you work harder to win me back. The same goes for Luci going forward." My look turns shy and I blush again. "And besides, you can't tell me that you didn't have fun making him beg with me. I'm positive Luci would have as much fun if or when your positions were reversed."

Diavolo smiles at that and we both look at Luci's sleeping form. "Too true," he murmurs and lets me lean into his side.

The silence that envelopes us after that is a comfortable one and Dia plays with my hair as we chat idly and wait for Lucifer to recover some more. The topics aren't important, but spending this time with them like this is and I can practically feel Diavolo relaxing out of his jealousy.

"What are you going to do about Satan?" Dia asks abruptly.

"What about him?"

"He wants you."

I wait a beat before asking, "And?"

"As much as I want you."

I give him a confused look. "How is that my problem? I've rejected him three times, including tonight, Diavolo. How much clearer can I be without starting a literal fight? He'll get over me or he won't and that's his problem." His expression twists and I sigh. "Satan is my housemate, not a friend at the moment. He's too fixated on Luci and I's relationship for anything to be healthy between us so I keep my distance and let Luci deal with him. Occasionally, like tonight I have to step in and do something but that's the extent of my involvement."

"Maybe I should step in," he mutters to himself.

"No," I say firmly and he scowls. "I allowed you your little show tonight in front of your avatars because I knew it would either drive Satan to do something stupid or it would reinforce that I would never be with him. Either way, leave it alone or tonight will look like icing on a cake."

"Tonight was not icing on a cake," Luci mumbles from my lap and our attention shifts to him. "Is it over?"

Sharing a glance with Diavolo, I ask, "How do you feel?"

"I will feel better knowing that the both of you have fully forgiven my transgression," he murmurs, laying a hand on Dia's thigh and squeezing my waist.

"You are," Dia and I agree at the same time and then share a smile.

"Thank hell," Luci mumbles.

"Unless you have a second round in you tonight?" I tease. Crimson eyes glare at me and golden eyes stare hopefully. "We still have about ten hours left to that command."

Lucifer just moans weakly and buries his head in my stomach, making me and Diavolo both laugh. "I may not be able to walk tomorrow as it stands," he complains and sends us into another fit of laughter.

Diavolo eventually took us to his bed where we cuddled and enjoyed the post-sex endorphins. We chatted about small things we needed to do the next day and eventually drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[comradekatara]

No but fr I wanna know all ur Yangchen thoughts 🥺🙏

Are we gonna get a review of Dawn of yangchen?? 💛💛 I really love ur analysis stuff, it’s fun to read

thank you and sorry for taking so long to reply! i kept meaning to write a review of the dawn of yangchen but then the sequel came out, which i just read, and i figured i'd just combine the little i had written with my overall impression of both novels. it might just be recency bias, but i really enjoyed the legacy of yangchen, it hit all the right spots for me. my review isn't formal in any way, but here are my scattered thoughts in the form of bullet points (in no particular order), and if there are any details you'd like me to expand on or analyze more formally, please don't hesitate to ask! i'd love to discuss these novels further.

obviously, spoilers for both the yangchen novels under the cut.

i like how i can tell that fc yee is a sokkagirl the same way i can tell that will arbery (one of my favorite playwrights, worked on s4 of succession) is a romangirl. and that’s all i’m gonna say on that! 

in my draft of my review of the previous novel, which i had only outlined but never actually finished, i said this: “zongdu chaisee seven months pregnant and effortlessly running an entire city from the top down in a way that makes her completely untouchable despite her obviously criminal tactics vs zongdu henshe gripping the public bathroom sink sobbing into the basin and flailing around throwing tantrums whenever the avatar questions his competence. a girlboss running her empire vs a pathetic little boytoy imploding under the weight of his own ineptitude. i love them both.” which i stand by even more now that chaisee is given more prominence in the sequel. she was already my favorite character in the yangchenverse, but now she’s EXTREMELY my favorite character. and rip henshe lmfao you were fun but we won’t miss you.

that said, kalyaan swiftly moved up the ranks. his scenes in this novel were so excellent. the way he humiliates kavik as simply as breathing, but also the way he completely fell apart when he thought kavik was hurt. their relationship is so fascinating, im obsessed with their toxic undying brotherhood!!!! and im the number one hater of guys with smug auras usually, but he’s so beautifully written in this novel i just couldn’t help but relish every scene he’s in. 

i also wrote last novel: “mama ayunerak was also a very cool character. at first she seems like just a sweet little old lady but it turns out she’s actually extremely shrewd and has eyes everywhere!! best spy in the whole damn spy novel, perhaps??” and my opinion has only somewhat changed. i still love her, don’t get me wrong, but i don’t think i was giving yangchen herself enough credit. she can evade the white lotus masterfully when she wants to.

i also, of course, LOVED seeing the white lotus in their banal, daily operations. how the sausage gets made, if you will. as a white lotus lover, and a kavik lover, and a lying liars who lie lover, this was all extremely satisfying for me. the fact that they were the ones to orchestrate the platinum affair is so beautiful to me. fc yee understands me. he gets it. 

yangchen and kavik have such a beautiful relationship. i love that by the end, yangchen still doesn’t even realize that kavik isn’t remorseful because he betrayed the Avatar, but because he betrayed her. he doesn’t even really give a shit that she’s the avatar in like, the grand, spiritual sense. he just loves her for who she is. a smart, funny air nomad who wants to make the world a better place. and she has it so bad for him lmfao i don’t think she even realizes it tho 😭

i loved the references to gurus laghima and shoten, the koans yangchen quotes to herself throughout the novels, the portrayal of air nomad culture in general. it’s great to be able to spend time with air nomads in a real way, even if most of the action still takes place in the earth kingdom. 

jetsun is such an incredible minor character, that final scene tells us so much with so little. and i love the stark contrast she provides to kalyaan, which yangchen even says. the difference between older sisters (queens & legends) and older brothers (toxic male manipulators) i suppose. 

a minor detail i enjoy is the confirmation that airbenders can use airwaves to detect the movement of objects. it’s only fair that each element gets its own version of seismic sense, and if firebenders have heatbending and airbenders have wavebending, i think waterbenders could theoretically do the same via the moisture in the air. just a fun piece of lore i like to think about. 

i love that despite how intelligent and studious she is, yangchen is, fundamentally, a jock. she thinks in koans and sports references. she prides herself on being airball team captain. she is competitive and fun loving, just like any other air nomad. 

also yangchen being called “a terror” (by jetsun) and “a horrible little girl” (by yingsu) is so real and adorable she’s literally a little sister & a menace!!!! <3

combustion bending lore getting expanded upon was great for me. i love that chaisee’s history as an exploited pearl diver gave her both the idea and the will to use people as weapons. it’s not that she thinks it’s okay to do, but she thinks it’s fine because it’s how the world works. though she’ll use the cruelest methods, she’s not innately cruel, she’s just been jaded enough to become amoral, and thinks doing whatever it takes to secure her position is always justified. excellent character i fucking love her truly. 

we never actually find out what happened to jujinta or the history behind the yuyan archers, but that’s okay. the toll it has on him is what’s important, and that’s communicated effectively enough without exposition. 

i thought that surely yangchen would find a way to end the platinum affair, but i actually loved that there was no getting through to feishan, and ultimately, he had the power. i think her strategy of becoming the zongdu for the entire earth kingdom and personally distributing funds is fascinating, because it’s exactly the kind of un-air-nomad behavior that separates her from aang. yangchen is wise and spiritual, but she is also shrewd and pragmatic. her air nomad status strengthens her integrity where it matters, but it doesn’t hinder her ability to make the necessary calls that burden the avatar. as much as she doubts herself and resents her responsibilities, she handles her role beautifully. 

her bison dying to save her is just. sheer pain. first jetsun and now nujian, not to mention her banishment from the northern air temple, avatarhood demanding sacrifice is the one constant across all their lifetimes. except roku. roku’s just a spoiled brat. 

something i love about kavik is that he is an excellent liar. i think that if he continues his career in espionage instead of becoming a healer, he could really flourish. also the fact that he’s really good at mental math is very funny to me. when you long to be a doctor but your skills are in accounting and spycraft… 

the chaisee yangchen foilage is so rich & juicy i love how chaisee genuinely loves air nomad philosophy despite her own modus operandi being so antithetical to air nomad values. how it’s clear that despite commiserating with the burden of the avatar, she so desperately wishes she had that power and built-in clout and eternally preserved legacy. how she calls yangchen her “little sister” in a parallel with kalyaan & kavik, but jetsun is her actual big sister so the thought of chaisee calling her that disgusts her. i actually think that if chaisee had joined the white lotus instead of becoming a zongdu she could have enjoyed all the benefits of power and protection without actually putting herself at risk. but she is also far vainer than she would like to admit. alas. 

i would have really loved to see the dynamic between chaisee and kalyaan. i know they would be such a fascinating couple, these inverted foils of yangchen and kavik, who are so smart, and shrewd, and talented, and fragile. i could read an entire novel just about their domestic disputes. 

i love the way the novel dealt with questions of avatarhood—its unfair burden, its unfair power, the ghosts of past lives possessing you, the way it can be so isolating even when you have community and personal support and the adoration of the masses, the arrogance that unique power can lead to. it’s a very difficult question if you actually try to consider the in-universe political implications of it. i hardly find it surprising that an anarchist (such as comrade xai bau) would come to the conclusion that avatars should not exist. 

fc yee does such a great job of incorporating lore from atla & lok, both small details and major plotpoints, in a way that feels natural and seamless. despite the fact that the tone of this novel is very different, it still feels like it takes place in the exact same universe. and for what it’s worth, i prefer the tone here. not that i don’t love the grand sweeping quest narrative of atla, but the daily minutia of exploitation, the manipulations and machinations of power players on a more balanced world stage is far more intriguing to me as an adult. the same way that as an adventure-loving child i was obsessed with katara, but i grew into loving sokka as i matured. i will always enjoy atla’s righteous battle between good and evil, but the nuanced, grounded politics of the yangchen novels really hit the spot for me now. i said in the past that the kyoshi novels do what lok tried to do, but this novel is actually the most perfectly illustrative of that idea for me. maybe because it explores the exact kind of archetypes and themes im already predisposed to enjoy in this franchise. maybe it’s just recency bias. but i loved this book. 

[reyboris]

ASTRO NOTES (LINDA GOODMAN)

My favorite quotes from linda goodman about the signs taken from her book SUN SIGNS (PART 1)

ARIES: Actually, Aries kids can learn anything in no time, never forget it, and zip through school like the wind, if they apply themselves. But not all parents know how to achieve it. It is possible that they spend years wondering why Miguelito and Margarita get such a high IQ on tests, and yet they have been in third grade for four years now. They don't need to worry too much, however, because Miguelito and Margarita will make up for lost time with the speed of a bullet, as soon as they get out into the world and realize that people are more alive than they are. A couple of humiliations, and the ego of a Martian will drive them to such an effort that they will jump several rungs in one jump.

GEMINI: his true character, despite his superficial cordiality, is lukewarm, withdrawn and ultimately lonely; Although he often seeks company, what he is really after is something that is inside him. However, he is not surly. His way of being can be warm and compassionate, but at the same time he offers his sympathy and understanding in the same way that he offers love and friendship: from a distance.

VIRGO: The fresh, green jade and the purity of platinum are the complement of him and what brings him luck. But Virgo's good luck is always followed by five kinds of loneliness, and the call of duty is never quite silent in his heart.

LIBRA: Not even Solomon in all his wisdom could overcome the final balance of a typical Libra decision. What he has no inclination to consider the personal nuances or emotional tangles that may lie below the surface. He is enough with the facts and he does not need more. In his judgment, the deep insight into character that a Pisces, Scorpio, or Aquarius might display would cloud the clarity of the picture he sees. He instinctively feels that those psychological depths are not his line, and it is true.

AQUARIUS:She Every once in a while she'll come off the hook with a surprisingly moving line. If you ask her what he thinks of space travel, she will answer: "When I was little, I believed that the stars were holes in the sky, through which light passed." But if she's in a different mood, when you tell her you're sad to see that melting snowman, she'll reply, "That's just sentimental nonsense, Charlie." First romantic, then practical; first shy, cheeky later. The Aquarius woman will ruthlessly mock flying saucers, only to later tell you that she has seen a gnome dressed in red dancing on the windowsill.

TAURUS: don't be fooled by the good disposition of Taurus or his compliance with his superiors: it is not easy to take him ahead. The Bull has a kind of Machiavellian detachment towards those who believe they are manipulating him, which allows him to deal with them with tact and subtle diplomacy. But if he looks closely, you'll see that he has a sly expression on his face and a sideways glance as he humors these aggressive people who try to lead him where they want. Ultimately, the Bull will get his way, and his success is further ensured by his ability to wait as long as it takes to win over the hasty. However, when his personal emotions are trampled on or his deep pride is hurt, his calm may disappear, and be replaced by childish stubbornness.

CANCER: They're not the kind of limelight people like extroverted Leos or clowning Sagittarius, but Cancerians have a terrifying sense of publicity, when it comes to being noticed. Don't be fooled by that apparent modesty. They secretly like attention, and will be intoxicated by whatever headlines they can get. You won't find Cancer pursuing fame with a passion (there's nothing he pursues with true passion), but rest assured, he won't run from it either. It will be easier to see him warming up to the heat of the applause than running away from them. There may be things that Cancer hides from, but recognition is not one of them.

LEO: Leo is extremely cunning, in many ways. It will be rare to see him waste energy trying to extract water from a depleted well, as Aries often does; he is therefore an excellent organizer and wise distributor of obligations. His commands are surprisingly effective when he controls the dramatic effects, for the Lion can be a master of the art of simple and direct speech, even if he sometimes smacks of theatrics. He freely and openly expresses his approval, and his flattery can be so exaggerated as to confuse one.

CAPRICORN: one day, your little Capricorn will comment like who doesn't want the thing that he wants to go to school early to call roll. "And why do you have to call the roll?", you ask. The answer will astound you. "Oh, I'm just class president." When you want to know why he didn't tell you, he'll reply with careless modesty, "Wow, it's not such a big deal." However, he will be flushed and satisfied: it will be his adult life style of behavior.

PISCES he is a mystic at heart, and secretly believes in the invisible and the supernatural, although he may be a little ashamed of it. He will not practice any voodoo rites at his desk or meditate in the lotus position next to the refrigerator, because he fears ridicule if people discover the undercurrent of his psychic vibrations. But they'll find out anyway, even if he tries hard to play the hardcore royalist.

SAGITTARIUS Most of the time, the typical Sagittarius is happy and gregarious, but his temper can go off like a rocket if he feels hassled by people who abuse his naturally friendly ways or get too close to him. Rebellions against authority and against an oppressive society are also common. Sagittarius will never dodge the bulge in the face of a fight or a request for help. Women are capable of losing their normally agreeable disposition to attack with the barrage of an unexpectedly serious speech that puts the impertinent in their place. Men will use their fists, disdaining weapons. It is not uncommon for the rude and insulting person who has played on Jupiter's good nature to find himself sprawled on the sidewalk, wondering where that change came from.

SCORPIO It is impossible to surprise them. Or rather, it is possible to surprise them, but it is not possible to detect it in the Scorpio's tone of voice, words or change of expression. There are two reasons for this; a) They are precognitive enough to guess anything ahead of us; b) When you catch them unawares, their factions are alerted, even though they are not. Scorpios take the fun out of everything. They make very unsatisfactory guests of honor at surprise birthday parties. Somehow the spark of spontaneity will be missing.

[vennyvenadito]

I watched Derision and….oh God, it’s a mess

I hated it

Everything was so lame

Everyone was so out of character in this episode

And I gonna ask this, when Mari was akumatized, we see her memories right?, alright, now can some please tell….why the heck we could also see other characters point of view???!!! Isn’t this sequence is in Mari’s POV?? Like, someone explain that

And please, look me in the eye and try to tell me this backstory make sense, come, try

Because none of this make fucking sense!

And before you go to tell me otherwise, I’m saying this as some who was in the fandom since season 1, like, when everyone where trying to figure out who Hawkmoth is, that old I am, so no, no try to tell me I don’t know anything about the show and the characters because I know them perfectly

So yeah I can tell, Chloe wasn’t this type of ““eViL””” in previous seasons back then, Marinette wasn’t even scared of her, she was just annoyed by her, even before Alya came she wasn’t really afraid of her, she was like “ugh, this bitch”

And tell me Mari, if you where so traumatized about falling in love with someone, than why didn’t you do the same thing with Luka and Chat Noir huh?, Please explain yourself young lady?

In fact, why are you panicking in front Kim??, you always acted normal around him!!

And for last, I just loveee the doble standard in this show

Marinette can be excused of her stalking behavior towards Adrien, every bad thing she does was just because she is traumatize, so please don’t be harsh on her, after all, she is young, and kids do stupid thing

But nooo, no no, Chloe shouldn’t be excused, forget the fact her mom is a abusive bitch, forget about the fact she openly say to Ladybug she feels useless, forget the fact she was only Adrien’s best friend back then and did care about him (watch “Collector episode 1, season 2), forget the fact she has Andre as a pathetic excuse of father

Because every teen can be forgiven except Chloe

She is evil, she always will be, she can’t change, because Thomas say so, and if you not agree than you are an abusive person, your evil as well

And Mylene…shut up, please

When Thomas would release that not everyone reacts the same way on trauma?

Back to Mari’s panic attacks, everything go to fast to me!, there’s no time no analysis what the hell is going on, also, didn’t she used to be in the public pool before this episode?, like, Mr Pigeon 72 never happen I guess

Also, this episode make her look worse because back in season 3 in Animaestro, she fucking team up with Chloe, Chloe, her bully, the person who made her life back then a living hell, to humiliate Kagami in front Adrien

What the hell Mari!?

And Chat….sweety, honey, I love you, and I insist your deserve better but….please don’t do that, this isn’t you, your not like that, your better than this

Anyway this episode is trash, is literally every salt fic in one episode, every single cliche of a generic backstory perfect for a Wattpad’s fanfic

And please, instead of trying to tell me every episode that Chloe is evil and I should hate her, what not you guys try to focus in more interesting lore instead? Please, like, kwamis, Gabriel and Emilie? (Representation doesn’t count)

And even then, why show this episode in season 5, you literally have a lot of seasons to show this, and you decided this was the right moment??

Ok, that’s all I wanted to say

Se ya folks

[agentrouka-blog]

One of the things that drives me crazy in regard to Rhaegar apologia is that a lot of them use the fact that no Martell has directly blamed Rhaegar in the text for what happened as proof they don't blame him and it's absolutely mind boggling how dumb this is. First of all, Rhaegar has been dead for close to two decades, whereas the Baratheons and Lannisters are still very much alive so obviously the Martells' wrath will be directed towards them. Second of all, we barely have Martell POVs and POVs are not some omniscient, all-knowing insight into every character's opinion on all of the 456732 characters that have been introduced across five books. The lack of indictment re Rhaegar does not mean they don't blame him. Also, GRRM is not the kind of writer that is going to spell something as obvious as this out in crayon. If you need the author to directly tell you that Doran and Oberyn would be apoplectic at Rhaegar's actions toward their sister, maybe this is not the series for you. These are the same people that say, 'Well, we never got E's reaction to L being crowned at the tourney so we can't know if she was offended....' Like, these people really need the narrative to explicitly state that E was humiliated because her husband crowned another woman at a public tourney in front of nobles from across the 7K. I just.....these people are Not Very Bright and appear incapable of connecting even the most simplest dots. There are certain things that do not need to be and will never be spelled out because GRRM assumes his readers have at minimum a high schooler's level of reading comprehension and media literacy but here we are lmao.

Ned never thought much about Aerys either, the guy who murdered his brother and father. Are we to surmise he didn't terribly mind?

GRRM waited until book #3 to create a dramatic and righteous confrontation with the crime perpetrated against Elia and her children, even though the bare facts have been with us since the beginning. He waited until book #4 to introduce the Dornish perspective and vengeance plan in actual POVs, and until book #5 to introduce Elia's surviving son. Dorne, Elia, Aegon - it is a long game.

It slots well into his use of the POV trap with Dany and the comparatively slow dismantling of any positive patina on the Targaryen dynasty. We don't get a proper face on the horror of it until Jaime's confession in the baths of Harrenhal in ASOS. Maester Aemon was practically presented as a saint up until AFFC where he suddenly revealed himself to be a prophecy truther who had been corresponding with Rhaegar about exactly when he tried to impregnate Elia with his comet-fuelled wonder sperm - all this time, without telling anyone in the Watch about this supposedly fundamental savior concept. Dany's veneer of good intentions is falling apart for anyone paying attention.

Questions the reader could have asked from the very beginning, because the facts were always on the page, are being fleshed out and dragged to the forefront in the latter stages of the book series.

Considering Jon Connington and Aegon - son of Elia and Rhaegar - are about to collide with the Dornish plotline, the question of the Tourney at Harrenhal and Rhaegar's character is going to be much less subtly handled from this point on.

There are going to be a whole lot of revelatory collisions in TWOW.

[vincord]

I don't know if anyone in the fandom talked about this, and if so, then I apologize for repeating it.

I understand that in this fandom everyone has their favorite character and a character who is not very loved, but when people rush at each other for different opinions, this is already the edge. I would like people to stop defending Mukuhara by insulting and humiliating Mahiru or Hinako, since it is obvious that both of them are not to blame (Mahiru has her own case in general, okay?)

I have seen many times how in Kazui's situation people blame Hinako for everything, calling her inadequate and hysterical, although she is literally the one who died. Victimblaming is not cool. They are both victims of public pressure that imposes marriage and relationships as soon as possible.

And I have seen many times how people defend Kazui, but at the same time openly humiliate, insult Mahiru. I'm just wondering how she even relates to all this. Was Mukuhara lying because of her? Because of her, Hinako fell from the balcony? No and no. Mahiru already got enough in the first season. Leave her alone.

If you want to protect Mukuhara, then do it without insulting other characters and fans of these characters. I write this like someone who likes and Kazui, and Mahiru, and Hinako 💔

[dolphin1812]

I love that Marius’ poverty is discussed through the metaphor of food. On the one hand, it’s not exactly a metaphor – he did literally sell his possessions to feed himself, so in a sense, he did eat his watch. On the other, it places poverty as his “nourishment,” highlighting the extent to which it deprives him of everything. The one that I found worst to read was this one:

“a door which one finds locked on one at night because one’s rent is not paid”

A lack of food and light is horrible, but we saw worse with Fantine. It’s still easy to feel for Marius, of course, but the horror of working in dim lighting, in the cold, and without food is familiar. Someone not even having a place to stay at night brings us back to Valjean’s situation at the very beginning of the novel (although that was because of his history, not his money). Closed doors have never been a good sign in this book, and seeing Marius have to face one hurts.

The moralizing aspect of this chapter is more mixed. Hugo seems to imply that those who become “scoundrels” because of poverty do so because they weren’t as moral, contradicting much of his own novel (where even characters that seem very virtuous, like Fantine and Valjean, end up as “criminals” simply for trying to survive). That being said, the “heroism” part is a bit better. It still feels a bit like idealization, but it also speaks to the novel’s general intent of centering the “misérables” as the protagonists (or “heroes”) because they’re ignored. The sacrifices Fantine made should never have happened, but they did make her an “obscure hero” in a way, with the amount of suffering she faced for the sake of her daughter.

I also like that we return to the humiliation of poverty here. Again, Marius is not as poor as Fantine was. Still, the loss of confidence and self-worth she experienced as she became poorer and poorer is similar to what he goes through, especially in relation to appearance. Initially, Fantine tried to maintain her clothing and appearance, but as she became poorer and lost her beauty (selling her hair, her teeth), she stopped caring. She was already a social outcast, but that visual marker remained a heavy burden. Marius doesn’t stop caring in the same way, but he is hyperaware of what he looks like, and it’s likely that his sneakiness in public places and his refusal to linger is tied to the poor state of his clothes.

More than that, poverty controls their lives and appearances. Fantine’s hair was not just beautiful to others. It made her happy. In addition to liking to feel beautiful, she loved brushing and caring for it. Selling it ended that happiness. Marius isn’t losing joy, but he is losing the chance to express his grief as he deems appropriate, and his loss is one of the ways he defines himself right now. It’s isolating him as well, as going out during the day would probably increase his chances of meeting people (if he weren’t too embarrassed). Going out at night helps preserve what he sees as a core aspect of who he is (a son mourning his father), but it limits him. Fantine didn’t even have that flexibility – she had to sell her hair, and there was no replacement for that except time – but in both cases, poverty challenges one’s sense of self and even forces one’s identity into certain molds.

The end of this chapter may mark the only occasion in Les Misérables where becoming a lawyer is a happy moment. Marius has hope now!

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Needs Of A Man

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Actor, Elvis Movie, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Sonny West, Memphis Mafia

Word Count: 1776 // Rating: Mature

Summary: People say having kids changes a relationship. You just didn’t know how right they were.

Tags/ Warnings: Fighting, Cheating, Established Relationship, Marriage, Adultery, Arguing, Body Image Issues, Pregnancy, Birth, Post Birth Body Changes, Insecurity, Public Arguments, Crude Mentions of Sex, Humiliation, Foot Fetish, Panty Wearing, Babies, Angst, 

Notes: I’m sad just writing this so I hope youre happy lol

Tags for Elvis Fics:  @caitlin1996​ @literally-just-elvis-fics​

Request @elvispresleyisfit12 - Reader , elvis and the Memphis mafia are all sat in the jungle room reader has had elvis and hers baby like two months prior so she feels a bit self conscious / down and the Memphis mafia let it slip that elvis cheats on her almost every night , she breaks down crying arguing with elvis sharing intimate details to the Memphis mafia ( by accident cause she’s saying it to elvis but there in the room ykyk ) you can choose the ending bbg 😘🤭

‘Thanks honey,’ Elvis said as you handed him a drink. ‘No problem,’ you said sitting down on the sofa beside him smiling as he pulled your legs over his lap, his hand on your knee which he stroked it gently. He seemed to be doing it without thinking, not even bothering that there were at least ten other people in the room with you. You supposed it didn't matter. The boys were used to his affectionate ways even if they had dwindled a little as of late. Since having your son, Jesse, you felt a shift in your marriage. Elvis loved being a dad and you knew he was so proud of you for bringing his baby boy into the world but it wasn’t the same. You felt different, like a stranger in your own body. And you were sure Elvis had noticed as his touch and his attempts at seduction had lessened though you figured he was trying to go at your pace which you were grateful for.

That was why tonight had been so special to you. For the first time since the baby was born, you’d had people over for dinner and drinks and once dinner was over you’d migrated into the den talking about everything you had missed out on whilst the boys had been on tour. It was almost as it used to be. He’d been all over you as you got ready, telling you how beautiful you are and now he was caressing you no matter who was looking. It made your heart sing.

‘This is nice baby,’ he said as he sipped his drink. ‘I thought you might like it,’ you said pushing his hair from his eyes as he smiled at you. ‘Of course I do,’ he said leaning in so close he was almost kissing you, ‘shame you can't have one.’ ‘I know,’ you grumbled, ‘damn breastfeeding.’

‘The god damn walls shaking, the bed’s thumping against it and she’s screaming right,’ Sonny chuckled. He was sitting to your right, telling Marty about some women he had bedded making you roll your eyes. Living in a house that was almost always filled with boys meant you were never shocked by the locker room talk they came out with, ‘a proper scream ‘oh Elvis right there!’ ‘Proper dirty,’ Marty chuckled. You had barely been paying attention but as you heard your husband's name your blood ran cold. Sonny didn't seem to notice you were listening, probably thinking his conversation was being lost in the grander scheme of things as people were talking throughout the room.

‘What?’ you said your head whipping around. You’d said it loud enough that everyone had stopped their own conversations to look at you. Sonny turned, his face paling as he noticed it was you who had spoke. ‘N-n-nuthin’,’ Sonny stammered watching you like a deer in headlights. ‘You said Elvis,’ you continued, your heart heavy at the mere thought. ‘I misspoke,’ Sonny said, but as you turned your head to look at your husband, he dropped his gaze. Your heart ripped into two.

‘Is it true?’ you said, your voice thick with tears. Elvis said nothing but he sighed as you clambered off his lap. ‘Baby,’ he said moving to stand up with you but you pulled out of his grasp putting your hands on your hips to try and quell the rage that was flowing through you. ‘Don’t,’ you shouted, ‘don't you dare!’ ‘You don't understand,’ Elvis said. ‘Oh don't I? I don't understand,’ you spat, ‘well please enlighten me, Elvis. Please tell me how you just couldn't help yourself from fucking someone else. Let me guess she was like some kinda witch right? Some temptress who could lure you in so much so you could forget that ring on your finger!’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ he protested. ‘Oh so you wanted to?’ you scoffed, ‘forget that you’ve got a wife at home waiting for you.’ ‘You’re always busy! The baby-’ he said trying to reason with you but all you could do was scoff. ‘Your baby! Your baby Elvis! I’m taking care of our child. A child that I carried for nine months, went through a horrible birth with and spend my days trying to keep alive whilst you’re off touring the country,’ you snap, ‘or did you forget about that.’ ‘A man has needs,’ Elvis said defensively.

‘Oh I know,’ you sneered, ‘like when you needed me to clean ya up because you came in your pants from just looking at my feet in them dainty sandals you bought me. Or when you just had to know how my panties would feel against your cock-’ ‘Now hang on a minute,’ he shouted but you didn't let up. ‘What are the boys not allowed to know this shit? Huh? I thought the intimate details of our marriage were there for them to have at,’ you said, ‘or is it just the gory detail of each slut you bed they’re allowed to hear about!’ ‘Y/N,’ Sonny said, ‘it’s not-’ ‘What?’ you said. ‘Are you going to pretend like you didn't help? How many is it Son? How many times have you brought some tramp to his room? Once? Twice? Three hundred times?’ you said. ‘Baby please,’ Elvis said, ‘it’s not that simple. It gets lonely on the road. Sometimes I just need-’ ‘Oh yeah and what about what I need?’ you said trying to push the wave of sadness out of you, ‘who’s seeing to my needs when you’re out schmoozing every whore you can find huh? Who’s thinking of me when I’m crying over the fact I don't look like I used to or when I’m lying in bed awake for hours because you go to sleep without touching me? Who’s thinking of my needs then because it certainly isn’t you!’

Tears were streaming down your face at this point but you couldn’t stop yourself. You’d known having a child would change things between you. You knew that things might be a little harder now you had another person to think of but you’d never thought he’d feel so slighted by the birth of your baby boy he’d turn to the arms of another. That your love would be enough until you couldn't devote your entire being to him and then he’d be happy to find someone else. Elvis’ face crumpled in pain as you mentioned it and the boys dropped their gaze as the circus in front of them suddenly got too much to bear.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘baby I am. I didn’t know you felt that way-’ ‘No because you’re too busy fucking other people,’ you scoffed though it turned into a sob, ‘why? I thought you loved me.’ ‘I do,’ he said coming towards you and placing his hands on either side of your face. At any other moment, you’d cherish the embrace but you couldn't feel anything but hurt. His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill over at any moment, ‘I’m sorry. I fucked up but I love you. You and my boy are my world baby.’ ‘How can I believe that?’ you sobbed. You could feel eyes on you from all around and in any other circumstance you'd be mortified at this display of public emotion but you didn't have the heart in your to care. You were too heartbroken to be embarrassed.

‘How can I believe anything you say?’ you sobbed, ‘I thought you loved me.’ ‘I do,’ he said wiping a tear from under your eye. ‘But not enough? Is it me? Am I just disgusting to look at now is that it-’ ‘No,’ Elvis said. ‘Then why?’ you said. ‘I don't know,’ he said, his voice cracking as he spoke, ‘I don't know why. But I was stupid and wrong. And I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. Baby, you believe that right? You believe I’m sorry, right?’

You didn't say anything. You wanted to believe him. Your heart begged you to believe him. That it was a blip. But your head was telling you differently. Things weren't going to change overnight and still had a baby to think about. Your body was still different. What if you couldn't get back to the way you were before? How long would it be before his head got turned again? Except that next time, he’d be more careful.

‘I love you,’ he said leaning down to kiss every bit of your face he could. His lips were warm against your damp cheeks and you could feel yourself yielding to him. ‘No!’ you said pulling away. He watched you with anguish as you ran a hand down your face to wipe the tears and the kisses away, ‘kissing me isn't going to fix everything.’ ‘Then how do I?’ he said, ‘please tell me. Honey, I’ll do anything.’ ‘I don't know what you can do Elvis,’ you said sadly. All of a sudden a whimper crackled over the baby monitor on the table by you and your attention went to it. You picked it up off the table and clutched it to your chest looking back at Elvis once more. The boys were watching you closely, guilt and shame on all of their faces which caused another round of pain to hit you.

‘Jesse needs me,’ you sniffed. ‘I’ll come with you,’ Elvis said starting towards you but you stepped away as if you needed to maintain at least a couple of meters to ensure you didn't start crying again. ‘No,’ you said. ‘Baby please,’ he said pleading at you with his eyes. Tears were flowing down your face again though your sobbing had stopped. ‘I just need you to leave us alone for a while,’ you said, ‘that's what you can do.’

And before he could say anything else you fled the den and headed upstairs to where your son was waiting for you. He was no longer crying by the time you got upstairs, instead, his bright blue eyes and cheeky smile were beaming at you as if you were his everything. You smiled back at him though it was weak and pulled him up out of his cot to cuddle him to your chest. He gurgled as you held him, his warm hand on your neck as he clutched your necklace with his tiny fist. You took a seat in the chair by his bed, holding him as you sobbed quietly.

You didn't know what you wanted. You didn't know what the next course of action was or if you could forgive Elvis. But you knew whatever happened you’d be okay. Because you had at least one boy who loved you with his whole heart.

[fictionadventurer]

If anyone needs me, I’ll just be here going feral over “Tattercoats” again. Great Cinderella variant or best Cinderella variant? I’ve long loved this story, but I hadn’t realized just how many details I’d forgotten that make it even better. (And/or leave me wanting to break down in tears).

She’s raised by a grandfather who has literally sworn never to look at her face. This is neglect to the thousandth degree. She didn’t even get the happy childhood that most Cinderella characters get. She has a whole lifetime of abuse. Yet she still grows up to be a lovely person.

In most Cinderella retellings, her major consolation is that the other servants are good to her, but in this story, the servants join in the abuse and they’re the ones who give her the mocking name.

The only person in the household who’s at all kind to her is her nurse, and the most she does is give her scraps and rags. 

The one actual friend she has is the gooseherd, and all he can do is cheer her up with music. And open her up to more mockery from the servants because she hangs out with him and his geese.

But when Tattercoats wants to go to the ball, her nurse goes to bat for her! Before this, she’s barely dared to give the kid scraps, but now she confronts the old man multiple times trying to get him to take his granddaughter along! She should have done something more a long time ago, but the fact that she bothers now is still heartwarming, because this clearly took a ton of courage.

Then the part that I remembered most clearly--she goes, with no transformation, just to see the ball, and meets the prince who falls in love with her while she’s in her rags.

This is the most awkward part of the tale, because it’s heavily implied that he falls in love with her thanks to the gooseherd’s enchantment. But even that’s fascinating because he’s not necessarily being forced into anything. It’s just kind of speeding the process along. Helping him to see her as she really is--kind and generous and beautiful, despite the rags--rather than blinding him. And then he takes action to prove his devotion, rather than just blindly falling into it.

I had remembered the two of them arriving at the palace and him just taking her inside. But it’s even better! Because she doubts his love for her, because why would he wed a ragged goose girl when he could have a fine lady. (Girl is sharp). But he tells her to come back tonight in her rags with her geese so he can claim her as a bride. It’s a huge gesture on both of their parts--the prince proving that he loves her as she is (and he’s willing to risk public safety by inviting a flock of waterfowl to a public event), and Tattercoats having to take a huge leap of faith and trust that he’s not just setting her up for public humiliation.

Only after she’s claimed as his bride does she get her transformation scene. And everyone is remarkably chill with a herd of geese just turning into servants right in front of their eyes. Like, I’d be worried if the prince fell madly in love over the course of a day with a woman who undergoes magical transformations right in the middle of a crowded ballroom, but everyone’s just like, “Yes, clearly this woman is the perfect queen for us and not at all an evil enchantress or anything.” And they’re right! Because after a lifetime of horrific neglect, this girl deserves a happy ending.

And the gooseherd mysteriously disappears. What happens to him? Who was he? The fact that it’s never explained adds to the mystique of the story.

And then! Her grandfather! Goes right back to his palace to continue mourning! Because he swore never to look at her face! He refuses hope. He refuses the happy ending. He ruined his granddaughter’s life, but now he’s ruining his own life thanks to the very same refusal to let go of grief. It’s so shocking yet so fitting of an ending for him.

There is just so much to dig into here!