#Anger of Stick 5 generator

[sincerelyneo]

teeth | l.hc

“fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet”

💿now playing: teeth by 5 seconds of summer

❯ summary: Traditionally the caption of the cheer team and the captain of the soccer team are friends - some even date. But you and Donghyuck definitely aren’t friends - if anything you’re enemies. The two of you can’t go five minutes without an argument. So, why are you letting him fuck you in the locker room?

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: college!au, enemies with benefits, smut

❯ words: 2.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, bickering, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), hate sex, degrading names, general name-calling, manhandling, haechan is an asshole, but reader is also lowkey mean, choking, use of nickname 'princess', reader uses she/her pronouns, hardly any plot, it's literally just them hate fucking idk what to tell ya.

cheeky author's note: i'm very brtish, so referring to this as soccer literally made me want to rip my hair out 😀

“You don’t have to be so rough you know, Hyuck!”

"Will you just shut up and let me fuck you!?" He snaps.

The red metal of Lee Donghyuck's locker is cold against the skin of your bare back. Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened. But somehow the captain of the soccer team (and the boy you swear you hate) has you pinned against the boy’s lockers, one leg wrapped around his waist and the top half of your cheer uniform hiked up just enough to give him a full display of your tits. His left-hand grips your hip so tightly that you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose just to piss you off.

Not only that, but he also has your skirt bunched up around your waist. Giving him just the right amount of easy access to pull your panties to the side and tease his cock between your folds.

"Will you just hurry up and stick it in!?" You try to yell at him but, from the way he’s teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, the attempt comes out like a feeble whine.

Exactly on command, the scowl on your face quickly morphs into a wince, and the annoyed quirk on your lips disappears to form a small 'o' as Hyuck’s grip on your hip hardens and he pushes his cock quickly into your cunt. You can’t complain though - you did just tell him to stick it in.

"Shit," you squirm, hand coming up to his chest, pressing hard against the badge of his soccer uniform that rests on his right peck.

"Now look who’s needy," He teases. "I vividly remember you saying I’d be the shittest fuck on the soccer team."

"That’s what this is about!? You’re still mad that– uhh," you’re cut off by your own moan and your nails sink into the fabric of his shirt when he starts to move his hips. His pace is surprisingly slow - deliberately teasing - in comparison to his rapid first thrust inside of you.

"Christ! Even when you fuck you talk too much," Hyuck curses, his hand wrapping around your arm to free himself from the grip you have on his shirt.

"You're one to talk," You hiss back. "Even when you fuck you’re still an annoying little asshol– "

You gasp as he pulls out of you completely and then thrusts into you once again.

"You could've at least warned me, you dick,” You exhale, your walls readjusting to his size for the second time - and what a big size he was.

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture princess.”

You can’t believe that even when he’s buried to the hilt inside of your pussy he’s still calling you that stupid fucking nickname. It’s not the word ‘princess’ itself that bothers you per se; it’s Lee Donghyuck’s intention behind the name that makes your blood blister with anger. He’s been calling you ‘princess’ since your freshman year in college but you’d only ever inquired about it recently.

You were at a party, and even though you hate the bones of Lee Donghyuck, you’d be lying if you said your social circles didn’t overlap. It was inevitable, he’s on the soccer team, you’re a cheerleader; honestly, the two of you should be friends. But you’re not. And because of your strained relationship, it was no surprise that the minute you walked through the door he’d picked a fight with you.

You can't even remember what the argument was about now, but you know the two of you had gone back and forth in a boxing match of insults that always ended with him throwing the word ‘princess’ at the end of his rebuttals. And you really couldn’t quite understand why. In your mind, being called a princess was a compliment, but to Donghyuck, princesses were “spoilt bitches who have no grip on reality.”

Safe to say you didn’t think the term was one of endearment after that.

And it was at that same party where you’d insisted Donghyuck would be the shittest fuck on the soccer team – something you’re currently finding out as being not true as he fucks you senseless six ways to Sunday. In all honesty, even when Yuta had asked you the question in a silly little game of truth or dare, you knew Hyuck was the cop-out answer. Truthfully, your real answer would have been Jisung or Chenle. They’re both a little younger and act more awkward with you. But still, you’d let hell freeze over before letting Lee Donghyuck think he was a better fuck than somebody else. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve broken that promise to yourself from the way you’re breathlessly panting and gasping from the vigorous drilling of his cock. That or hell genuinely has frozen over.

But still, what did he expect? The two of you couldn’t go half a second without a petty argument. Sometimes you find yourself just doing it because you were bored and he was there. After all, it’s just the norm between the two of you.

That’s why you can’t quite understand why he’s taking a stupid comment said in a passing game of truth or dare to heart. You’ve said worse to him, you're sure of it.

Hyuck pulls out of your pussy and the emptiness that lingers between your legs has you groaning – even if it’s just for a second. He doesn’t give you long to harp on the loss of friction because he wastes no time dropping your leg from his hip, gripping your waist and slamming the front of your body against his locker.

You want to make another snarky comment about his roughness, but you secretly love it. Well, it’s not so secret actually — Hyuck is well aware that you like his manhandling because he feels your wetness becoming more slick on his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.

His pace in the new position is still tortuous, slow and teasing, and so fucking annoyingly good. But you don’t know how much longer you can take the tormenting leisurely pace. You want more - you need more. If he didn't have your arms pinned behind you and you flush against the lockers, you’d claw at his back to make him go faster.

You feel a warmth on the nape of your neck as he nuzzles against your ear, placing a kiss so gently, that you’re shocked at the sudden contrast in his demeanour.

“This the shittest fuck you’ve had, huh?”

No.

“Yes,” you reply and he growls deeply. There’s a rough snap of his hips and it catches you off guard so much you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.

“Fucking liar,” he scoffs.

The insult makes your face screw up in a glare, but still, all you can manage is a breathy, “Am not.”

No matter how good the length of his cock is making you feel, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right – that he’s not the worst fuck on the soccer team. Not that you had much experience with the others.

But even though you refuse to use your words to tell him you’re loving it, your body betrays you by being so fucking responsive to his touches. And no matter how hard you fight against him, Hyuck never lets you gain an inch. In fact, every time you try to free your arms from his, he lets out a frustrated groan, and the sound only makes your pussy throb harder.

His hand slips up your body until it finds your throat, where his fingers dig into either side of your neck. He stops his thrusts.

“Well if you’re not lying, are you saying I’m a shitty fuck princess?” He asks innocently as if he’s about to be gentle with you, but you know better. After all, this is Donghyuck. “If you want to pretend like you don’t want this; if that helps you sleep at night, then fine, but your slutty cunt is so fucking wet, I can almost feel you soaking my balls.”

He ducks down to place a kiss on your jaw, and you feel his lips smile into it as you shudder from his words. Instinctively, you swing your head away from him, only to be yanked back by the hand around your throat. He chuckles against your skin, hips starting to move again, thrusting shallowly into your stretched cunt.

“If I’m such a shitty fuck, I supposed you want me to stop, huh?” He asks in a low voice, lips grazing your cheek.

Noises you’ve never heard yourself make before tumble from your mouth as you moan and sob shamelessly. You try to bite your tongue, try not to fuel his ego, but his rhythm is too good at tearing down your guard, which is why you find yourself crying out, “Please don’t stop!”

He laughs, fucking you harder and faster, the stings of pain from his cock hitting you so deep morphing into a hot ache of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter in your core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.

His fingers, still on your throat press into your skin, not hard enough to cut off your air supply but just enough pressure to force out strangled moans. Your shoulders rub against the coarse material of his soccer kit, grounding you against him as he fucks you in punishing thrusts.

You don’t want to admit it, but your body can’t resist it.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” you mumble, eyes squeezed tight together.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me like a good little slut?” he murmurs into your temples

The low rumble of his voice has the tension in your core ratcheting higher, pushing you closer to your release. Your head feels like it’s floating as the tight spring in your stomach coils until it finally snaps and has your knees buckling beneath you.

Hyuck keeps his speed steady, fucking you through your climax and savouring the way your walls clench around him in rigid spasms. Your orgasm triggers his and he clenches his jaw.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he ruts into you harder, and all you can do is moan for him.

“Please,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your submission - he’s never seen you like this before - so needy and desperate. He didn’t think it was possible to love anything about you; but this right here, you fucked out and pleading for his cum, yeah, he fucking loves it.

He ruts into you a last few times with thrusts that are wild and more frenzied, his thighs slapping against your ass. He contemplates cumming inside of you, but he figures he’d save that for another day since the two of you had forgotten about a condom and hadn’t really discussed it.

And…did he just think about having sex with you again?

With a loud groan that rattles against the metal in the empty locker room, Hyuck pulls out of your cunt and jerks his cock until he’s cumming onto the small of your back. Unable to stop yourself, you moan softly and a stupid smile spreads across your face when you hear him sigh.

After that it's silent, only your rapid breaths echoing in the room. He’s pressed against you, face buried in your neck, holding you and your weak legs in place. You stay like that for a beat, but then you remember who it is that’s just fucked you.

Without any more hesitation, you shake his grip and push him away from you. "Christ! Stop breathing down my neck. Fucking gross."

If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s your arch nemesis you would have stayed tangled up in him a little while longer, letting yourself get soaked up in the fact that that was the best sex you’ve ever had.

As you turn around to face him, he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

“There’s a towel in my bag if you want to…”

You scoff, “How chivalrous of you.”

You pull the towel from the bag in his locker and start wiping at his cum on your back. Your body is turned away from him but you can still feel his eyes lingering on you as you wipe away.

You stop to look at him, “What are you still doing here? We have a game in like 10 minutes. Shouldn’t you be like…warming up or something?”

“I think I’m already warmed up,” he mumbles and you shake your head with a smile, going back to cleaning yourself off.

“Seriously, get on the pitch,” you demand when you see him still lingering.

There’s a hand in his hair, scratching his head and he looks a little flushed. You never see him like this, it’s weird. The Hyuck you know and loathe is cocky, smug, arrogant, all of those kinds of words; but the one in front of you looks so awkward, flushed. Is it weird you kinda like it?

“Are you waiting for me to tell you you aren’t a bad fuck or something? Seriously Hyuck, get lost,” you try and joke, pulling down your cheer uniform.

“No..I…” he stumbles.

You groan, “Oh no, don’t do this. Don’t make things weird.”

“I’m not—”

“Can’t you just be like a normal guy and…I don’t know, say it felt good to fuck me like you hate me or some shit?”

His eyes sweep over your face as if he were studying you. His face softens and he steps closer.

“I mean I could say that, because it felt fucking amazing actually,” he says and you swallow thickly. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”

You pause, freezing as he comes towards you. You don’t even register how close he is until you feel his breath on your lips and his chest against yours.

“What?”

“I don’t actually hate you that much,” he admits, and your eyes widen.

“Yeah right, funny joke,” you roll your eyes and laugh sarcastically but he’s not laughing with you. In fact he’s just looking at you, deadpan, and it’s starting to freak you out.

When you realise that he is in fact serious, you cross your hands across your chest.

“You’re not gonna start doing all that cheesy shit they do in the movies, where you profess your undying love for me, and tell me you never really hated me and it was all just a miscommunication, are you?”

“Fuck no!” He almost gags at the mention of it. “Just because I said I don’t hate you that much doesn’t mean I like you? Are you crazy?”

“Well I’m just making sure,” you poke his chest.

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “But I do wanna do this again…” he trails off so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard it if there was anybody else in the room with you.

“This?”

“Yes, this. Us. Fucking,” he explains. “I fucking hate you, but fuck, I think I love your pussy.”

[unholyhelbig]

Hi,

I love the fics and honestly think you’re one of the amazing writers in here.

I was wondering about the Wandanat x reader fic the beast you’ve made of me, I was wondering if there will be more parts ? As I read the last part there is on there and I wanna know what happens next

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 5/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 4,212

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, cannon-typical violence, mentions of pain, sweating, general mentions of pain, gun use, horrible grammar I don't proof read we know this

[a/n: hi! God, it's been months. I had a bit of writers block when it came to this one but I'm back on my Wandanat bullshit, so thank you all for your patience. Not sure how I'm feeling about this one.]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The Avengers compound had an extensive library that was settled with a thin layer of dust. Most of the editions were well past your time this go around. Not the dozens of other lives you had suffered through. The spines were bound in genuine leather and the pages crackled when you pulled them apart. You would wager that no one had been here for a long time, at least, not in the last decade.

Wanda’s hazel eyes tracked you from left to right, and then left again, as you paced the carpeted floor. Large stretches of golden sunlight were interrupted by her shadow, her silhouette suffering your constant movement. It was warm in here, much too warm for your liking. Your skin felt damp.

“Okay, you’re making me nauseous.”

Wanda had stood up during your last lap and you ran directly into her. Every spot where her skin touched yours burned viciously and you were thankful for the already present heat masking your blush. The Witch gently closed the book and you reluctantly let her take it from you.

“I fear that Grimms Fairytales are not going to be of much assistance here, darling girl.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but snapped your jaw audibly shut. Darling girl was bold. Sure, she’d sprinkled a few leg-weakening pet names in there, but this nearly seemed deliberate. Your mind was swimming too much to hold onto that life raft at the moment, so you let out an indignant huff.

Wanda had been tasked with watching you. Steve didn’t say it outright, but you knew that Thor’s visit had him shaken, figuring that if the woman in front of you could deliver some tilting blows to Thanos himself, she could probably handle you.

Natasha was buzzing with anger, nearly vibrating out of her skin. Her wife didn’t’ make a move to comfort her, explaining to you that when Natasha got like this, it was better not to poke the bear with a stick unless she wanted to lose a hand, or both.

It left the two of you in the library that had considerably less answers than you were anticipating. The mythology section of the collection was empty save for the book that Wanda had just pried from your hands. The only wolf had gobbled up a poor, defenseless grandmother before stealing her nightgown.

She watched you carefully for a few moments before she adjusted the pillow on a window seat and sat until she looked relatively comfortable. She’d taken your only distraction from the pain that still ebbed against your side from broken glass. You started to fidget.

“Come here.”

“What?”

She sighed and patted her lap, like the answer should have clicked in your head right away. It certainly didn’t. Not only were you searching her face, but your own mind for what she wanted you to do.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“This morning. I almost took you and Natasha out in the non-date kind of way.”

She scoffed again, murmuring a simple ‘come here, then.’ That left no room for argument. Your body seemed to give in when you sat next to her on the cushion, shoulders slumping with exhaustion. God- maybe you were tired.

Wanda guided you gently until your head was laying on her lap. You breathed in her scent, like fresh rain over lilacs. She carried the same floral shampoo that Natasha did, but somehow, it hung sweeter on her skin. You were tense, relaxing under her nimble fingers as she started to glide them in a steady rhythm through your hair.

A content sigh, laced with the smallest bit of a growl, escaped you as you finally gave in and curled closer to her. You could feel your eyes grow heavy, the comfort of her simple touch settling over you like a blanket.  

“Go ahead and sleep, baby.”

“m’don’t want to hurt you,”

“You won’t.” Wanda assured, “I’ll protect you.”

Affection bloomed from the center of your chest. You turned your head, looked up at her. There was so much care in her gaze. She smiled softly down at you, moved her fingers across the small scar under your right eye, a constant reminder of crumbled ice on a fateful day.

“Don’t give me that look. I mean it. Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll keep the memories at bay.”

Her reassurance seemed to be enough for you to give in to the remaining exhaustion, your cheek back against the soft fabric of her pants, breathing in that intoxicating scent. Wanda’s fingers continued to trace patters at the small of your neck, through your hair. You swore, you heard her release a hum in a melody you couldn’t place, before you allowed yourself to sleep.

Wanda Maximoff had known pain before. It attracted like a magnet, dutifully dragging the metal of unwanted memories back to the surface each time she got too close. She’d been good, she’d been bad, and most of the time, she conceded to being both. There was a thin line that she threaded, and Natasha Romanoff loved her immensely on either side.

There was anguish radiating off you in waves. She felt the emotion in her fingertips where they met your skin, so soft and pale with exhaustion. This was the first time in the last two weeks that she had seen an expression of peace across your features, and she quite liked the image.

The witch could feel your curse pulsing through your veins, just as much as she could feel your warm weight against her lap. You let out the softest bit of a whimpered breath and snuggled closer, as if she were your liferaft on a choppy sea.

She was growing exhausted herself. While she’d had a certain fondness for her godly teammate, his sneering display in the conference room had left her rattled. The sun that flowed through the room was warming her, but not to an uncomfortable degree. She leaned back on the window and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of your steady breathing.

“You need to wake up, miss.” Wanda was leaden with sleep, eyes heavy and taking in lungful’s of grassy scent. The ground beneath her was damp, but soft, so she pressed her cheek closer to the moisture and tried to bat away the presence pestering her.

“Please, I’ll take no pleasure in leaving you. Not with it out here.”

It. Such a simple, yet vague word that ebbed away at the last of the tiredness that plagued her. Since she was a girl, even before the poking and prodding of Hydra’s sadistic minds, she could tell the difference between a dream, and reality.

Life had a haze to it, a softness around the edges that her dreams rivaled. They felt all the more real than her daily endeavors, and at first, that sent a steel rod of fear through Wanda. But, she’d grown to love the control she held over her dreams. They all meant something, perhaps more than her waking hours.

When she sat up, her head rushed with blood with a comfortable and familiar whoosh. The person kneeling next to her was a stranger. A slight thing with dark skin and cornflower eyes. They blinked curiously at Wanda. A long and scruffy beard hung from their chin, full of small flowers, embedded in the curls. They had a feminine figure, a masculine expanse of shoulders.  

They smirked at her. “You do not have to stare, miss. I am well aware of what I look like.”

“No, that’s not… I didn’t. You’re lovely.”

Blush had found its way to Wanda’s cheeks, and she allowed herself to be pulled to her shaky feet by the stranger. They smelled of sugar, and the slightest hint of cinnamon that reminded Wanda of a kitchen after a meal had been cooked. They smiled more genuinely this time, and the tension seemed to exit the conversation as soon as it had entered.

“What’s your name?” Wanda asked.

They frowned. “I don’t think I have one anymore. Now, we really do need to get a move on. Do you hear the thunder?”

She didn’t hear a thing past the bubbling stream and the desperate squawks of birds’ way up in the trees. These woods were lovely, but she had no time to ponder them. The nameless stranger took long strides towards their destination, and while Wanda hadn’t a clue what they were running from, she didn’t want to stick around and find out.

The stranger seemed to know where they were going, hopping easily over logs, and letting their bare toes curl into the dampness of the stream. Wanda’s fingers brushed across leaves, and rough tree bark. Though the compound was surrounded by forest, it was much too manufactured. This was wild, this made her want to howl into it’s silence.

“The beast has been pulling against us lately,” they explained, reaching a hand out and helping Wanda over a large, smooth boulder that had been warmed expertly by the sun. “For decades, we’ve known peace in our own right. As peaceful as one can be against their will. As far as prisons go, this is a beautiful one.”

Snowcapped mountains stretched far into the sky, into the endlessness of nature. She’d been imprisoned and this did not seem like one. There was room to roam, there were crops, and animals that stalked through the same trees they did. She had no right to judge-however- dreaming or not, their struggle was not her own.

“Come, I am not alone.”

Wanda was lulled with kindness, and well aware that nothing could hurt her here. She followed the Stranger to a small cabin that cut through the clearing in the forest. A stone well was nearby, as was the looming skeletal structure of a barn, slanted and rotten through.

The Stranger knocked and did not wait for an answer before pushing her way into the home. The same scent they carried bombarded Wanda with warmth. Oil lamps, and books were strewn about. It was cluttered, but comfortable. A fire crackled in a stone hearth, and a large-bearish man turned towards them, a book dwarfed within his paws.

A woman was at the stove, slowly turning a stews content around. She flicked glowing green eyes in their direction, lilting her head like a curious feline. Her movements were catlike and calculated, teeth pointed into little knives.

“They do not have names either.” The Stranger nodded solemnly.

“How long have you been here?” Wanda asked.

The bear man responded in his deep, jaded voice “Forever.”

“The dwarves, they tricked us. All of us.” The cat woman scooped broth, potatoes and carrots into separate bowls, the yellow steam curling around the oil lamp and it’s flickering flame. She frowned. “Something from each stolen in order to prevent Ragnarök.”

Wanda had heard that before. Thor said it; the second coming, an apocalypse of Asgard. It was the catalyst for your imprisonment in the first place. She was having trouble grasping the purpose of the stranger, of the cat woman and the bear man, and the place her conscious was lingering in now.

“Their chains were not strong enough. They needed elements from nature to make binds that would hold a Beast as large and dangerous as the one that they feared.”

Bear man hoisted himself from the sofa in front of the fire. He wedged a crutch under his arm that Wanda had not noticed at first. He walked with a limp and loomed above her, covered in hair, claws as long as her fingers. She gazed up at him, suddenly surrounded.

“The sound of a cat’s footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish, and the spittle of birds.” The Stranger explained. They plopped down in a creaky kitchen chair, reached for the stew before the Cat woman batted their hand away.

“All of that… for chains?”

The Stranger sneered, plucking a flower from their beard and plopping the color in the middle of the bland stew. “It’s worked, hasn’t it?”

When she stirred, the sun had lowered significantly from its point in the sky. A sorbet glow moved across the discarded book of mythology and a blanket had been draped over her shoulders. She woke gently, as she always did, with a certain degree of elegance that evaded most of the avengers.

Natasha was at the one table in the room, her chin resting on her folded arms. She’d been watching Wanda for some time now; the slow rise and fall of her chest, the comfortable expression on her face while she held you. She still held you now, her grip tightening in her own sleep.

Adoration had replaced the anger in Natasha’s eyes from earlier in the day. Though, her knuckles were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze, a clear sign that she had taken most of her frustrations out on a punching bag in the gym without the proper precautions. Wanda fought the urge to press her lips against them, to soothe the pulsing pain.

 “She’s really taken a liking to you,” Natasha whispered. Her voice held no malice, no jealousy. It was like a soothing balm, despite the small frown that formed against her features. “I put myself between her and a literal God today. A friend.”

“It’s naive of us to think of her as helpless.”

You were curled so easily into Wandas side, soft snores escaping you. Your fingers had found purchase in the fabric of the blanket, pulling it close, wrapping yourself up. It was the most peaceful she had seen you since you’d met. She ached to hold you in the same way, but swallowed the feeling in exchange for letting you rest.  

“In the atrium the other day, she couldn’t take a punch. I think this version of her is helpless. If what Thor is saying is true, then she could bring about the apocalypse.”

“Yes, in Asgard.”

Natasha breathed out, traced her fingers over the soiled gauze. She couldn’t look Wanda in the eye when she used this pleading tone. She would fold for her wife, and fold for the girl that she held in her arms. They were much too persuasive.

“Do you blame her? She was prosecuted simply because of her lineage. The whole family was. I don’t think Loki is a good guy, especially after what he did. But when you’re born into a world that thinks you’re a bastard, a mistake, and treats you like one, it’s easy to fall into the projected legends, don’t you think?”

The spy let the statement linger. Her entire life she was trained to be a killer to the point where her own thoughts were blurred into nothing but a red ledger. It had taken Clint Barton to pull her out, one single person to rip her from a life of killing. Maybe you just needed someone to care.

A small, content whimper escaped you, and Natasha looked at the way the golden sunset highlighted your features. You’d pressed yourself even closer to Wanda, if that was possible. The Witch stared at you with a soft gaze.

“What do you suggest we do, darling?” Natasha asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“They are going to bring the fight to us, stop at nothing until they have her back in chains.” Wanda frowned, a small crinkle of frustration smoothing against her nose. “We bring the fight to them. We fell Asgard before they can fell us.”

Natasha’s warmth was inevitable as she adjusted your stance. Her amber scent filled your lungs stronger than it ever had before. All of your senses were on fire. Every inch of her lean figure was pressed against your back. She gently corrected your hips, aligning them with the target.

She was taller than you by a few inches, her breath hot on your cheek and smelling oaky. You struggled not to sigh into her.  That would be wrong. She was Wanda’s wife, and they were in a committed and happy relationship.

They both flustered you beyond comprehension. Wanda had her soft touches and her commanding tone. Natasha with her assured guidance and rumbling voice. The pet names, and the lingering hands had you reeling.

“Okay, kitten, it’s important to keep your arms slightly bent.” Her hands trailed down your arm, sending shivers that you couldn’t suppress up your spine. You could feel her grin, whole body flushing with soft pink color. “Good girl. Now you’re going to aim slightly left of your target and gently squeeze the trigger. You’re going to get some kickback, so watch your nose.”

You pulled in a steadying breath. Natasha’s hands wandered around your waist and to your stomach. Again, she corrected your stance. It was ever-so-subtle. You closed your eyes for a short moment, trying to focus before pulling the trigger.

It was loud, making your ears ring. The kickback was rough against your wrist, but Natasha held you steadily. The fact that she was holding you at all made you dizzy. You’d blown a few holes through the target at the far end of the range, all just south of the belt.

“Well,” She chuckled, leaning her chin against your shoulder. “That’s one way to do it. Not necessarily fatal, but I’m sure they’ll wish it was.”

You crinkled your nose and set the gun safely down as she had instructed. Everything about it felt unnatural but you wished for her to keep holding you close as she was. You knew that she was trying her best. Both she and Wanda were. But guns weren’t your thing. Neither was hand to hand combat or the blood tests, or the stretching days of sleep deprivation.

You were aching for your routines with Jennifer in the legal offices and the shitty lifetime movies and the sodium-filled takeout that the two of you would indulge in over box wine. All things that you took for granted. All things that you ached so heavily for you could cry. It was a pit in your stomach so dense you could almost feel it.

In fact, you could feel something. A cold sweat that you attributed to the proximity of Natasha started to collect in the palms of your hands and the small of your neck. But it was quickly spreading.

Natasha seemed to notice, moving her hands to your hips and frowning at you. “You alright, volchitsa?”

“I don’t like guns,” You swallowed the muted nausea, leaning your back against the nearest wall, reveling in the coolness. “Is it hot in here?”

“No, but you’re burning up.”

She was a spy. You don’t know how you thought you could get one over on her or ignore the sudden turn of your stomach, not when a sharp pain ripped through your middle and dropped you to a knee with an indignant huff. Sweat dripped off the tip of your nose. She stabilized you with a swiftness that only she could.

“I can’t quite seem to stop embarrassing myself in front of you, can I?” You whimpered out.

“No, you really can’t.” Natasha carded her fingers through damp hair, the motion soothing. “You going to knock out on me? Go to another time period?”

You grit your teeth, tucked your head “Don’t think so, this is different.”

It was different. Something was clawing deep within you, wanting to get out. The arm that wasn’t holding you up found purchase around your midsection as if it were trying to keep your insides in. She saw the desperation in your eyes. Must have, because you were moved back to the safety of your room.

You were not delusional. It was a prison cell, a fancier version of the holding container that they’d kept you in before. It was meant to keep you in just as much as it was meant to keep everyone else out. Natasha had tucked the gun in the back of her pants before leading you back here. Carrying you, perhaps. You’d been too disoriented to know.

“It’s… hot” You said again, curled in on yourself at the edge of the bed “You don’t think it’s hot?”

Before she could answer you were pulling your shirt off, pleased by the temporary relief that it granted you. Then the jeans and the socks. This left you in a pair of tight boxer shorts and a sports bra. The lights were too bright and your skin felt like it was crawling.

“FRIDAY.” Natasha called out, tracking you carefully “Can I get a reading on vitals, please?”

A mechanical voice recalled. “Body temperature: 232 Fahrenheit, Heart Rate: 325 BPM.”

“Perfect. Please send Wanda down right away.” Natasha dragged her gaze up and down your mostly nude body. “I believe I’ll need my wife’s assistance.”

“Right away, Mrs. Romanoff.” FRIDAY responded. “Temperature is now reading 245 Fahrenheit.”

Stupid fucking robot.

You’d turned on your side now, the sheets beneath you saturated in sweat. Your breaths had changed from soft pants to deep growls of discomfort. All you could feel was heat and sharp pains. This is what you had imagined death to feel like. These horrible waves of discomfort that were never ending.

“I think,” You turned your face into the mattress fully, snarling something deep and wild. Natasha’s hand was on your back as a grounding force. “fuck.”

“What is it baby?” She was pleading with you. A brokenness in her voice that you’d never heard from her before. One that you wanted to stop. You wanted everything to stop. “How can I help you?”

“You need to… leave… don’t want to hurt you.”

You repeated the same sentiment that you had with her wife just hours before. Natasha wanted to deny you. Of course, you wouldn’t hurt her. But then your spine shifted under her palm. Each vertebrae seemed to quake and clack together as if a handler had moved the handle of a whip at the base. You groaned and clenched your fingers into the fluff of the mattress at the motion. You were in insurmountable pain, and she could do nothing to stop it except obey.

“Okay,” Natasha whispered, not sure of herself. “Okay. I’ll be right outside that door. FRIDAY will monitor. Helen is on her way.”

She got a choked groan in response. Willing herself to leave was difficult. Closing the door behind her was worse. She found herself in the same observation room that was mute to your screams. Deep in her gut, she knew what was happening. It was logical. It was in all the horror movies. It would be impossible to witness much less go through.

Wanda burst through the corridor, her socks skidding on the linoleum. Natasha softened her crash landing with her shoulder, didn’t try to push her back but kept her from going further. She’d learned long ago that telling Wanda not to do something would get her nowhere. It would set her back ten paces, perhaps even twenty.

“What’s happening? propustite menya, ya khochu yeye uvidet'.”

Natasha shook her head, resolute. “It’s better if you don’t. She’s in pain.”

“And you’re out here?” a raw type of accusation surged through Wanda’s words, she moved to pushed past Natasha again, was stopped once more. She could overpower her wife, but knew better not to. Instead, nailing her with an exasperated glare. “Why?”

“She asked me not to, begged me. Y/n just figured out what she is and now it’s coming to the surface. She wants to lick her wounds in peace. We should grant her that at the very least, even if we want to storm in there and nurse her through it.” Natasha’s voice cracked, she blinked, looked away dejectedly. “She knows we’re here. Right here.”

Wanda crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unhappy, but conceding. She stalked over to the viewing window guiltily. Natasha felt as if you were more of an animal than ever, trapped within these four walls.

“Natasha?”

“Yeah, baby?” She couldn’t peel herself from the door, had her eyes clenched shut. There was a pounding headache.

“Where the fuck is she?”

That got her away from the wall, pressing her fingers up against the window, breath fogging the glass. Wanda was true to her word. The bed was empty. The containment unit was empty. The entire room was visible from where the two of them stood.

“FRIDAY I need a location on y/n?” She was met with silence, tepid green eyes meeting Wanda’s with nothing short of fear. “FRIDAY?”

With a fizzled snap, the lights flickered out, plunging the two of them into darkness. Natasha felt her heart in her throat for a single moment. A fearful and tense moment that instantly dried her throat in the pitch black. Her forehead thumped against the glass in annoyance. In defeat.

Behind the glass, something that suddenly seemed as thin as paper, two glowing eyes stared unblinkingly at her. Tracking her in ways that she could not track back. Warm breath fogged up the divider. She could feel it, touch it

“Shit” Natasha drew out the word. “Do you think she’s pissed I keep calling her kitten?”

Taglist💕: @dannipotatoo, @non-binary-frogking, @mysticalmoonlight7, @metanoiablxxm, @coxlong, @b3nzzzzz, @simpforlizzie, @delulu-bayolet-era, @dorabledewdroop, @crescentcrush, @roselockwood, @ellieromanov, @leenasayeed, @theowlappears, @pitifulbinx, @pepemyfantasy, @tekanparadiae, @skittlebum, @mariabeloskivismyoc, @natsbiggestfan1, @marvelwomen-simp, @cinffy23, @kyky-maximoff, @natalierushmansstuff, @bstvst, @lezzylover, @404-almostdone, @mishimrno, @maxidentbby, @shayarshucky, @merlinsouls, @neothepotato, @aliherreraaa, @olicity-boo, @tarathia, @thinking1bee, @shayarshucky, @bstvst, alowint, jono723, kaosrsing, gemz5, inarayofmoonlight, just4natasha, woow-ies,

[littlest-w01f]

Liar

Azriel x Reader

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: You fucked up royally by lying to your mate for weeks, now you must suffer the consequences.

CW: Dom/Sub dynamics, master title, scary Azriel, slightly dub-com punishment, chains, whipping, aftercare

a/n: I kinda wanted to dabble in this. Fic on Ao3

Anger radiating off your mate. He was walking away from you. Well, he'd ordered you to follow, but he was walking away. Your heart pounded in your chest as you hurried to catch up to him, each step echoing through the quiet streets. You could feel the heat of his rage emanating from him like a palpable force, making the air thick with tension.

As you drew closer, you noticed how tightly his broad shoulders were hunched, his usually confident strides now purposeful and aggressive. His dark hair, normally perfectly messy, was dishevelled, sticking up in every direction as if he'd been running his hands through it in frustration.

You reached out a hand, trying to touch his arm, to calm him, but he brushed it off roughly, not even glancing back at you. "Don't," Azriel growled, his voice low and dangerous, his siphons glowing. "You'll only anger me more."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as Azriel's harsh words stung, but you refused to let them fall. You swallowed hard, steeling yourself against the hurt. This was the first time his anger had cut this deep.

A part of you wanted to call after him, to plead for forgiveness, but the pride that had always defined you since childhood held you back. You weren't at fault here, you had your reason. You were not in the wrong. Still, tears fell from your eyes.

Azriel's rejection stung, but you swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. You knew better than to push when he was this upset. Instead, you fell into step beside him, matching his long, angry strides with your own determined ones.

The silence between you grew heavier with each passing moment, until it felt like a physical weight pressing down upon your shoulders. You glanced over at Azriel, taking in the rigid set of his jaw, the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Azriel..." You froze when he paused in front of the cave that led to his dungeons in the House of Winds mountain.

"Get in." He said, quite literally shaking with anger, when you didn't move, he growled, "Now, y/n!"

Your heart raced at the command, fear and uncertainty swirling within you. But something in Azriel's tone made you obey without hesitation. With trembling legs, you stepped inside the dark, damp cavern of his dungeon.

Azriel stood before you, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something else, deep, almost primal. He advanced towards you, each step deliberate and menacing. "You lied to me." His voice was a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. "How dare you lie to me about something this big?"

"I didn't lie, Az." Perhaps this was the wrong time to stand your ground, but you felt this wasn't your fault. Not your fault that Eris was also your mate, or that he'd taunted you with that fact, told you he would steal you away from the mate you wanted. "I didn't..."

"You say you didn't lie," He growled, "But you kept it from me. You knew what you were doing." His voice cracked on the last word, revealing the depth of his hurt. He had found the letters Eris had written to you, a few taunting, a few flirty. You really should've burned them instead of hiding them by throwing them in the back of your closet, where he'd found them, and read each one. His pretty hazel eyes turned dark. "Strip, and stand by the chains. 10 lashes for your lies. And that's being generous."

Your breath caught at his command, and your body went rigid. "But, Az. I didn't-"

"30." He cut you off, standing off by the racks, deciding which whip to pick to deliver this punishment. "I will add 5 for each word you say."

A gasp escaped your lips at his brutal order, but you quickly bit it back. He was being unfair, it was just a little secret, but you didn't say it, knowing defiance would only earn you more pain. Slowly, you began to undress, each item of clothing falling to the cold stone floor with a soft thud. You kicked off your boots, peeled off your gown, unwound the laces of your underthings.

When you stood naked before Azriel, you couldn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the heavy iron shackles hanging from the ceiling. He approached you, his footsteps echoing ominously. You flinched when his fingers brushed against your shoulder, guiding you closer to the chains. The cool metal bit into your skin as he secured your wrists and ankles, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

He watched you with an impassive expression, his gaze lingering on your curves before meeting your eyes again. Then, he selected a long, wicked-looking whip from the rack. It wasn't the worst of his weapons, its leather strips gleaming ominously in the dim light, and he cracked it in the air to test it out. "You will count each strike, and say, 'I will never lie to Master'. Perhaps if the lesson sticks before the 30 strikes are done, your punishment is over."

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to steady your breathing. Azriel circled around your chained-up form, raised the whip high, then brought it down in a swift arc across your back. The crack of the leather against your skin was followed by a searing pain that made you cry out. "One... I will never lie to Master," You managed to choke out, tears streaming down your face. You hadn't lied. You just hid the letters that the autumn heir you did not want had written to you. You could handle Eris on your own.

He struck again, this time on the other side, the whip biting deeper. "Two… I will never lie to Master." Your voice shook, but you repeated the phrase, willing yourself to endure. You felt a bitter hint of sadness hit you with the pain, you'd wanted to handle it alone. You could've done it.

Azriel continued his merciless assault, the whip cracking down repeatedly, laying open red welts across your back and shoulders. Each blow sent fresh waves of agony coursing through you, making you gasp and sob. But still, you counted, still you spoke the phrase, even as your mind reeled and your body trembled.

By the ninth strike, your voice was hoarse, your words slurred. "Nine... I will never lie to Master." By ten, tears streamed relentlessly down your face, mingling with the sweat beading on your skin. "Ten... I will never lie to Master." You didn't understand how he was so mad at you over such a little thing. He praised you when you proved you could handle yourself, and this was no different. He should be feeling pride that you'd wanted to be capable of this.

11, 12, 13... The numbers blurred together as the whip continued its relentless rhythm, each strike burning anew into your already tender back. Your body shook with the effort of maintaining your stance, of not collapsing under the onslaught of pain and humiliation. Your mind felt foggy, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the ordeal.

With the fourteenth, it hit you with the crack of the whip. You had lied. Kept important information about your life from him. A choked-off sob left your lips, your mating vows, you had broken your mating vows, keeping this from him, from lying to him. You were a liar, and you ruined your relationship. You haven't been handling Eris, you threw him in your closet with the letters, hoping he'd give up and you wouldn't have to.

15, 16, 17, 18... As the whipping continued, you finally understood the true extent of Azriel's hurt and betrayal. He'd trusted you completely, and you'd shattered that trust with your deception. The realisation pierced your heart like one of the whip's cruel lashes. Sobs wracked your body, your voice reduced to ragged, hiccupping cries. "Nineteen... I will never lie to Master... Please... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Az... Please I'm sorry."

Azriel's whip stopped mid-air at your tear-filled apology. For a moment, Azriel simply stared at you, his grip on the whip tightening until his knuckles turned white. Then, with a curt motion, he tossed the weapon aside, the sound of it clattering against the stone floor echoing through the chamber, he allowed his distressed shadows to rush to your aid, covering your back with their cooling touch, he knew he might've gone too far, and some did hiss at him for that.

He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, trying to gauge the sincerity behind your words. You could see the turmoil raging within him - the hurt, the rage, the love. "Why, y/n? Why keep this from me?" His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. "I thought we shared everything."

You hung your head, unable to meet his gaze, ashamed of your actions. "I… I didn't think it was a big deal," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Eris was always trying to get under my skin. I didn't want to worry you, make you angry with me." A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "Clearly, that was a mistake."

"I know he already was. I read his letters." He tilted your chin up so you'd look up at him, wiping away your tears. He sighed heavily, his expression softening slightly. "I understand why you might have felt the need to protect our bond from him, but you should have trusted me enough to share your fears and concerns directly. Keeping secrets from me is unacceptable, y/n. We're mates, partners. Our bond relies on honesty."

"I'm sorry, Master..." You gasped, more pained by the heavy emotions than the healing scars on your back, a fresh wave of tears and shame washing through you, "I don't... I don't want him, Master. I only want you. I'm sorry... I'm..."

Azriel's expression softened further at your confession, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I believe you, y/n. I know you don't want Eris. He's not worthy of you." He pulled you close, enveloping you in a warm embrace, letting you rest your head against his chest. "I forgive my love, there's no need to apologise anymore, your punishment is done. But remember, honesty is essential in our bond. No more secrets, no matter how small they may seem."

He held you for a long moment, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. When he finally released you from the chains, he winnowed you to sit on your shared bed, his strong arms supporting your back. "Let me tend to those wounds," He murmured, producing a small vial of shimmering liquid from your nightstand after resting you on your stomach, streaks covered back to the chill air.

He poured some of the clear liquid onto your back, the soothing balm immediately easing the fiery ache of the lash marks. You leaned into his touch, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as the pain subsided, replaced by a tingling warmth, the scars healing instantly.

After applying the healing balm, Azriel carefully massaged the soothing cream into your skin, his fingers gentle yet firm, ensuring every lash mark received attention. You felt his concern and care for you in every touch, his love a tangible presence wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

As he worked, you felt your tense muscles begin to relax, the soothing sensations calming your frazzled nerves. Azriel's touch was both tender and reassuring, a stark contrast to the harshness of the whipping moments ago.

Once he finished treating your wounds, he helped you onto your back, tucking a pillow beneath your head. He sat beside you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his hazel eyes filled with a mix of affection and remorse. "I shouldn't have lost control like that," he admitted softly, "But seeing those letters, knowing you'd hidden this from me... It cut deep. I'm sorry."

His shadows curled around your face and body in comfort, "Az... I understand why you did it. I shouldn't have kept something like that from you."

"I've never done anything to you before discussing it, I'll never do it again." He vowed, leaning in, capturing your lips in a gentle, apologetic kiss. When he broke away, his eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance. "Can you forgive me for losing my temper?"

"Of course, Az," You replied, smiling softly up at him. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You just felt betrayed, and rightly so, cause I betrayed you. I promise to be more open with you in the future, to tell you everything, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to me."

He helped you roll onto your side, facing him, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished. "I love you, y/n," he whispered, nuzzling your hair. "And I know I was harsh earlier, but I needed you to understand the gravity of keeping things from me, especially something like a bond with another person. Now, let's forget about Eris and focus on us."

He kissed the top of your head, and you felt your heart swell with affection for this man who loved you so deeply. "I don't want him... I want to reject the bond. I've been reseaching it how to reject a bond. I only want you."

Azriel's kiss on your head lingered, his lips brushing your hair softly as he processed your words. "Rejecting a bond is serious business, y/n. It's not something to take lightly. Are you certain this is what you truly want?"

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or second thoughts. "Because once you go through with it, there's no turning back. You'll sever all ties with Eris permanently. Is that really what you desire?"

You met Azriel's gaze, your own eyes shining with determination and conviction. "Yes. I'm sure. I don't want to be bound to anyone else. He means nothing to me compared to you. I want to be fully yours, completely devoted to you and only you."

You reached up to cup Azriel's face, your thumbs stroking his cheeks. "I love you, Az. More than anything. And I know that if I stay bonded to Eris, it will only cause problems and heartache for both of us in the future. Releasing that bond is the right decision for me, and for our relationship."

You met Azriel's gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you considered the weight of your decision. Rejecting the bond with Eris meant cutting all emotional and spiritual ties with him forever. It was a permanent choice with far-reaching consequences. But looking into Azriel's eyes, seeing the love and devotion shining back at you, you knew in your heart that this was what you truly wanted.

{General taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tele86 @thelov3lybookworm @romanticatheartt}

{Azriel taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @fieldofdaisiies}

[thegreymarveljedi]

He’ll Be Home Soon

(Echo x reader)

This idea came to me while at a family gathering. I was just daydreaming and whatever and I thought of this idea and ran with it. This is probably one of the first fics in a while that I’m actually very proud of. It took a few weeks but it feels good to get my motivation back and with a few extra ideas from others on how to keep my works from getting deleted again (thank you @techhasmjolnir , @isthereanechoinhere96 @inkstainedhandswithrings ) I’m back for the new year with a few good stories coming out!

This story takes place starting just before Star Wars the clone wars Season 3 Episode 18 (I am so so sorry lol). I hope you all enjoy this!

(Also, last minute add but divider is done by @stars-n-spice )

Warnings: ANGSTTT, major character ‘death’, ‘5’ stages of grief, mentions of blood, concussion, denial, delusions, mentions of anxiety, hurt/ eventual comfort, tears from many people, fluff, mentions of loneliness/ introvert, insecure Echo, happy ending

Words: 10.6k (Way more than I thought lol)

(Y/N) stood with Echo at the front door of their apartment, watching as he fixed the rest of his armour. She helped where she could, passing him pieces and fixing others that were crooked. He smiled at her as he finished fixing his armour, grabbing his helmet and securing it under his arm.

“I’ll be home before you know it mesh’la. We’re only ment to be gone for 7 rotations minimum and 10 rotations maximum. In and out is what the job is,” he said, looking down at (Y/N) with eyes that conveyed so much confidence and love. Even with his confidence she couldn’t shake her worry, the war weighing on her in so many ways. She was worried for his life more than her own and she wanted so much to join the mission, to ensure he came home to her but she knew it was impossible to convince the council of it.

“I know Echo. But I have a really bad feeling about this mission,” (Y/N) said, placing one of her hands on his chest and the other finding it’s way to his cheek, the stubble on his cheeks tickling her palm, “Just stick close to Fives please? And don’t take any unnecessary risks okay?” She pleaded even while knowing full well that it was futile. She knew Echo would be careful but she also knew that he was a soldier who would do whatever it took to complete the mission.

“With General Skywalker, there’s always risks,” he chuckled, though the face (Y/N) gave him must have made him rethink his joking manner.

“I know that,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the mention of her best friend in the order. (Y/N) had worked with the 501st many times and she knew that Anakin could be reckless with his actions. But she also knew how much he cared for his men, even if he took unnecessary risks. Echo looked at her with a soft smile, his gloved hand coming up to take hold of her own that still rested on his cheek.

“I’m serious Echo. Don’t do anything you shouldn’t do. I need you to come home to me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke those word’s, her emotions spilling over. As a Jedi, attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side as master Yoda always said. But (Y/N) liked to think that her relationship with Echo was different. She didn’t feel any darkest in her heart or anger when he was gone, all she felt for him was love and the occasional worry. But I guess that worry turned to fear in this case and she knew that master Yoda would frown upon this revelation.

“I will cyar’ika, I promise.” Echo snapped her out of her thoughts, his words touching her heart and easing her mind even if only a little. (Y/N) stared at her handsome arc trooper, his hazel eyes deep pools of wonder that she could admire for hours, his lips so kissable and soft, pulled into an affectionate smile that she wished would never leave. His hair was cut in accordance with regulations but still as soft and fluffy as his heart, the very soft waves tempting her to run her fingers through them. She refrained however, instead choosing to kiss his nose and tilt his head forward toward her own, resting their foreheads together.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” (Y/N) spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly at the thought of letting him go. She knew it was war times and that they had a fight to win, but that didn’t mean she liked it. It didn’t make parting with him any easier.

“I’d expect nothing less from you my dear,” Echo chuckled, his helmet falling from his hands as he wrapped her in his arms one last time. (Y/N) returned the embrace, determined to hold his warmth against her body for as long as she could before he really had to leave.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner kar’ta,” Echo whispered, his face buried in her neck as he breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of (Y/N)’s body soap. His hands found her hips, running his gloved palms up and down her sides as her arms remained locked around his neck. The press of his armour against her torso was painful but worth every moment, as long as he was in her arms.

“I love you too Echo. So so much. I always will,” (Y/N) replied just as quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. After another minute of holding one another his comm went off, the beeping of the device signalling that it was time for him to go.

She gave her beloved trooper one final squeeze, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes as she begrudgingly let him go. Echo smiled sadly at (Y/N) as she leaned down and retrieved his helmet, tucking it under his arm once again before bidding her a final goodbye. As the door opened to allow him to leave, he turned back to face his cyare once more and blew her a kiss, one that she caught and returned, her hands trembling slightly as she watched him leave.

“I’ll be home soon ner sarad. I promise,” he spoke one final time to her, his smile never leaving his face and the warm affection in his eyes conveying his love. She nodded as the door closed, cutting her off from the love of her life temporarily.

(Y/N) tried her best to hold the tears at bay, her emotions bubbling up and threatening to burst out in full force. She took some deep breathes, composing herself before she looked around the apartment, suddenly feeling so small and alone in the space meant for two. She cracked her neck and sighed, trying to think of everything else besides the handsome trooper who had just left her presence.

“It’s only 7 rotations at minimum. We’ve gone longer without each other. What’s the worst that could happen?”

~Time Skip~

Being on a meditative retreat was relaxing, time away from the fighting and the politics, not having to think about much of anything. It was peaceful, like it should be, even if (Y/N) was still a little worried about Echo. But once he returned, they could disappear off world together for the last week of the retreat, head to Naboo and just relax for a few days.

She smiled at the thought of it, thinking about how relaxing it would be to spend time with her love after he came home. It was 8 rotations ago that Echo and the others had left on their mission, the details of which were still classified to almost all besides the council and a few other veteran Jedi. All she knew was that Anakin and Obi-wan were leading a team to rescue Master Piell.

(Y/N) was snapped out of her thoughts when there was a knock at the door, the sounds firm and stern. She smiled giddily, thinking that it was her trooper coming home and wanting to surprise her. She smoothed out her robes and fixed her hair, ready to greet Echo after a long mission away. She walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, her large smile falling as she gazed upon two troopers she hadn’t expected to see.

“Rex, Fives what are you guys doing here? And where’s…” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and her heart stopped immediately when she noticed that Echo was nowhere to be found next to Fives. Her eyes darted between the two troopers, fear gripping her heart like vice, a cloud of darkness forming around her in the force.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Fives said, his helmet tucked under his arm which allowed her to see his face, eyes bloodshot and tear streaks staining his cheeks. (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, giving Fives a punch to his chest and gesturing for them both to come inside.

“N-no. Stop messing with me. This is another one of your stupid pranks right?” She laughed again, a very unpleasant sounding laugh leaving her lips as her eyes continued to dart between the Arc trooper and the clone captain who had yet to utter a word. The glare Fives sent (Y/N)’s way sent a shiver down her spine, his gaze intense and full of anger.

“I would never joke about this,” Fives hissed, taking a menacing step forward as tears began to gather in his eyes once more. Rex placed a firm hand on Fives’ chest, giving him a small push back and glaring at him. He shook his head, knowing that Fives was hurting but also knowing that (Y/N) had lost the love of her life. Fives realized his mistake and looked over Rex’s shoulder to the woman, eyes finding her horrified expression at the realization that they were telling the truth.

“Bu-but he can’t be. H-he promised me he’d come home.” She shook her head as the words fell from her lips, in disbelief at the prospect that her beloved Arc trooper had fallen in battle. Her knees felt weak, like they couldn’t support her weight any longer. (Y/N) eyes continued to dart between the men as she took a few steps back into her apartment, the space suddenly feeling even smaller than it did when Echo left.

“I’m- I’m so sorry (Y/N). But he’s gone,” Rex said, his voice that of a defeated captain who had just lost another brother. Her head continued to shake as Rex and Fives slowly walked into the apartment, the doors sliding shut behind them.

The men knew they were welcome in her home, having hosted them for many nights after a successful mission. This however, was a different monster entirely. Echo was gone and they were in mourning, (Y/N)’s own mind having an impossible time coming to terms with these revelations. She could feel the cloud of sadness growing, gripping her heart and taking over her senses.

Their eyes looked sad and genuine as they told (Y/N) what happened to her soldier, how bravely he fought and how tragic the mission was as a whole. She felt her heart crack as they continued to retell it, wanting them stop but knowing that, deep down, she needed to know. She felt like her legs would give out, the trembling getting more and more violent as their recounting of the mission went on. Fives had deposited himself at the dinning room table, his helmet long forgot by the front door as Rex stayed standing.

“N-no. Nonono.” (Y/N)’s words seemed so distant even to her own ears, stumbling over her feet as she continued to step back, trying her best to back away from the reality of this situation. She knew she was in denial, Rex and Fives’ presence telling her all she needed but it didn’t feel real. It felt like someone was pulling the world right out from under her feet, reaching into her chest and tearing a piece of her heart away. There was ringing, so loud and annoying, like an alarm in her ears that didn’t seem to stop.

“I’m deeply sorry vod’ika. He fought like a hero and died a hero,” whoever said that, their voice was distant to (Y/N)’s ears, the ringing intensifying tenfold her heart crumbled in her chest. She began hyperventilating, as if she was falling down a dark hole with no visible way out. She blindly reached for the counter in the kitchen, trying to find some kind of solid surface to keep her grounded.

“I-I-” words seemed to fail her, the world around her growing darker and darker as her knees began to give out. She couldn’t feel her lower half or even her fingers, her body failing her just as the words did.

“(Y/N)?” Rex asked, Fives perking up at the concern in the captains voice. He turned to look at (Y/N) and his eyes went wide, seeing her shake and stumble. He was on his feet and walking over to where she stood immediately, knowing that Echo would come back from the grave and shoot him if he let anything happen to his cyare.

“I-I can’t fe-feel my legs…” (Y/N) said, so quietly that both men almost missed what she said. Her vision went black, eyes rolling into the back of her head as the ground seemed to swallow her. Her consciousness came crashing down, the force around her swirling a deep purple. Her subconscious mind could feel her falling, fingers on the counter slipping off as her body came hurtling toward the hard surface of the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Fives yelped, catching her before she could hit the ground, but not before her head slammed into the counter, a loud thunk reverberating through the apartment. Rex was by her side in an instant as well, helping Fives to slowly bring her to the ground. Rex turned her over slowly to check on the spot where she hit her head, blood oozing from the wound.

He cursed and stood up, moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink as Fives quickly sent a message to Kix. Rex came back with the kit and a damp cloth, holding it against (Y/N)’s head to try and stop the bleeding.

“Let’s move her to the couch, carefully,” Rex said and Fives nodded, feeling quite guilty that they hadn’t told (Y/N) to sit down before they told her the tragic news. His mind went to his fallen twin, seeing his helmet lying there on the durasteel of the citadel landing pad. It was burnt, fried to a crisp from the explosion, but he had begged Ahsoka to use the force and bring it to them, needing to take the last part of his twin home.

“Comm Kix now.” Rex snapped Fives out of his thoughts, his voice somehow calm even with the current situation as they brought (Y/N) over to the couch to lay her down. Rex quickly placed down a few extra clean towels to stop the blood from seeping into the couch, not wanting to make (Y/N)’s apartment feel any more chilling.

“He’s already on his way,” Fives replied, his eyes downcast as he held (Y/N)’s hand. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to do so, (Y/N) accepting the small gesture of platonic affection whenever the boys came over after a mission. He held it gently, as if trying to ground them both and come to terms with the reality that his twin was gone. It was so hard to grasp, Fives struggling to understand how much this had effect (Y/N).

“Should we have waited to tell her?” The words fell from his lip before he could stop them, voice soft yet defeated. Rex took a moment to mull over Fives words, knowing that they were all grieving. But he hadn’t wanted to keep (Y/N) in the dark about this, especially when he knew she’d hear that they were home. It wasn’t right to keep this from her no matter how much he wanted to.

“No. It needed to be done now,” he said firmly, though his words lacked their usual confident conviction. He stared down at (Y/N), someone who had been a second in command to him many times, saved his and his brothers lives more times than he could count and always welcomed them into her home with open arms.

“But why?” Fives said quietly, looking to Rex with such sadness and despair written across his features.

“Because I don’t feel right lying to her. She doesn’t deserve that,” Rex said, his eyes turning to look at Fives before turning back to look at (Y/N). Her unconscious expression was unreadable, her face neutral even if the rest of her body was tense. Her skin had drained of some of its colour, once vibrant but now dimmed and dull. Rex turned back to Fives, watching the emotions pass along the Arc trooper’s face as he started at his twin’s cyare.

“I know you just lost your twin, Fives. But this is his Cyar’ika. Even if it hurts to shatter her world, she deserved to know that he went out like a hero,” Rex said, placing a hand on Fives shoulder to try and convey his thoughts to his Vod. Fives only nodded, not wanting to be reminded of such a tragic event. It was still fresh in his mind, that much was true, but for as long as he could, he wanted to just pretend it wasn’t real.

“I know Rex. It just…hurts. A lot,” Fives said, his voice cracking as the tears returned, the emotions no longer wanting to stay hidden behind the mask he had managed to put on. He removed his gloves, putting them down on the Caf table along with his chest plate and gauntlets.

“I know Fives. I know,” Rex said with a sigh, moving to do the same as Fives. They removed their armour silently, placing it neatly in piles by the door as they waited for Kix to arrive.

“Should we have given her the holo instead,” Fives said as he removed his belt and pulled the small device from one of the compartments. He remembered the moment that Echo had given him the holo tape, telling him that…

“If something happens to me, I need you to give this to (Y/N). She needs to hear what is on this and I need her to know that I love her.”

“I don’t know,” Rex’s shoulders sagged as he thought about it all, loosing one of the troopers he had trained since shiny, one of the 501st brothers he was closest too, “This way at least, we can stay with her and help her through this.” Rex had seen the holo before, having been close by to Echo when he had reordered it. He knew what it said and had even teared up a little at how sentimental it was.

“Will we ever give it to her?” This time it was Fives to break the temporary silence that had fallen over the apartment, looking at (Y/N) with sad eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rex said. Before he could utter another word, there was a firm and slightly frantic knocking at the door. It slid open to reveal Kix with his med pack and Hardcase and Jesse behind him, both sporting grim expressions. They quickly walked into the apartment and closed the door, Jesse initiating the lock as soon as they were all in.

~

“There isn’t much we can do right now but I suggest we tell general Skywalker,” Kix said as he put his stethoscope away, standing up and depositing his med pack next to the front door along with the rest of the boys armour.

“We can’t. What will he do?” Jesse asked curiously, knowing that yes, Anakin and (Y/N) were best friends, but was this really something that he could help her with. He and the others knew that attachments for Jedi were forbidden but they had chosen to stand by their Vod and his cyar’ika. None of them knew what their general would say though.

“He might be able to help,” Hardcase replied, his voice low and timid which was a bit of a shock to the others considering Hardcase was always so loud and boisterous. Hardcase cast his eyes to (Y/N), watching as she lay there unconscious. He knew that this was going to affect her greatly but he wanted to help in any way he could. They all did.

“How?” Jesse snapped without thinking about his tone, his own emotions over the situation much more uncontrollable.

“I don’t know okay! But we can’t just leave her alone to wallow in her grief. Echo wouldn’t want that,” Hardcase snapped back, his usual volume returning though his words only held sadness and despair. A silence befell the room at that moment. The five men thinking over what they could do to help their other general, their sister. It was another few moments of silence before Rex went to speak up, his words being interrupted by a groan and coughing. The men all turned their heads to look at (Y/N), all equally concerned for her wellbeing after what happened.

“Vod’ika are you okay?” Fives asked quietly, his hand giving (Y/N)’s a gentle squeeze as she slowly and carefully turned her head left and right. She could feel the dull throbbing pain of where she hit her head, the bacta patch on the wound helping to sooth the spot.

She spoke no words as she took in the state of the apartment, not many things out of place but enough that she began to make a plan in her head of how to clean them up. She took another survey of the space, noting that there were now five troopers present rather than two. She didn’t mind the extra company, though right now she felt as if she wanted to be left alone. She tried to sit up, her body feeling heavy, as though her heart had been ripped in two. Her head felt foggy, like there was a missing piece of the puzzle though that was definitely the concussion, she deduced.

“General?” Kix asked tentatively, helping (Y/N) to sit up with the help of Rex and Fives. They sat her up against the back rest of the couch, making sure to place pillows around to help her sit comfortably. She gave a short nod in thanks, feeling like there was so much more to say but no words to articulate how she was feeling.

“This is all just a bad dream,” she said, smoothing one of her hands down her face. This had to be a bad dream, there was no way he was gone. The pieces of her heart were scatter, the fog of her mind still swirling with thoughts that Echo would be home soon.

“I wish it were (Y/N). But it’s not. I’m sorry,” Rex said, hanging his head in shame that he couldn’t bring his younger brother home. The others in the room mimicked Rex, all of them feeling awful for what happened, especially Fives. The guilt of the incident weighted on him most of all, not having done enough to prevent Echo from pushing for the shuttle prematurely.

“I should clean up, he’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) said slightly dazed, as if on autopilot and not fully present in her own body. She went to stand up, a little too fast as she stumbled, being caught by Kix, Rex and Fives. They all looked at her confused, not fully understanding what she meant with her words.

“Who?” Hardcase asked tentatively, slightly fearful of the answer her would receive. Kix and Rex steadied (Y/N) on her feet, making sure that she was physically stable before letting go, even then their hands weren’t too far away. (Y/N) looked at Hardcase with an innocent smile, one too innocent for a grieving woman who just found out that she had lost the love of her life.

“Echo. He’ll be home soon so I need to clean this place up,” (Y/N) said moving away from the couch and towards to the kitchen where there was a very small pile of dishes and a warm meal prepared. She would offer some to the guys but it was Echo’s favourite and she didn’t want him to have any less when he came home.

“(Y/N),” Jesse spoke, his tone one of disbelief. Had she not heard anything they had said to her for the last hour? Or was this the denial stage of grief. He looked over to Rex and Kix who were already looking at each other, both not knowing how to go about this situation.

“You guys should go, before Anakin starts wondering where you all are,” she said, picking up the sponge on the side of the counter and beginning to scrub what dishes were in the sink. She surveyed the counter looking for anymore before her eyes landed on the spot where she hit her head, the counter covered in a little bit of blood.

“But-“ Kix began but was cut off very abruptly.

“I have to clean up.” (Y/N)’s words were sharp, cutting through the tension of the room like a lightsaber. She sighed and reached under the counter for the bleach, pulling on gloves and pouring some bleach onto a clean cloth. She wiped the spot down until it sparkled, going over it with a damp cloth with water and soap.

“We can help you.”

“Thank you Fives. But I’ve got this. I want to make everything look just right for when he comes home,” (Y/N) replied and used the force to throw the bleached towel into the washing machine and turn it on.

“Vod’ika,” Fives said, him voice quiet as he tried to move towards (Y/N), only being stopped by Kix’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at his older brother who shook his head, not want to escalate the situation to a point where they couldn’t come back from. Fives hung his head in defeat, feeling even more helpless than before. He was watching as someone who he considered to be his sister, denied that the love of her life was gone.

“He promised me he’d come home,” (Y/N) whispered to herself, a smile on her face and her brain still foggy. Echo was going to come home to her, she knew it. Fives, again, went to approach her but this time with the holotape in his hands. However this time he was stopped by Jesse and Hardcase, both shaking their heads just as Kix did. Fives huffed in annoyance, shrugging both his brother’s hands off his shoulders and making his way to the front door, throwing on his armour quickly before leaving, tears streaming down his face as he left.

Rex watched Fives walk out, the knowledge of how frustrated the arc trooper was weighing in him like a gunship. Rex turned back face (Y/N) watching as she continued to cleanse the kitchen, going over surfaces that had already been cleaned.

“He’s not coming back (Y/N). He’s gone,” Rex said, desperation in his voice at not being able to get through to her. He went to step forward just as Fives did but was also stopped by Kix, his vod’ika giving him a pitiful look.

“He’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) repeated, the force around her drowning out their voices. She was determined to get the place clean before Echo came home, wanting everything to be spotless for his return. Kix watched as (Y/N) was in severe denial, the concussion and head wound she sustained doing nothing to help her subconscious delusions.

“Rex, let her mourn. She’ll come to terms with it eventually. Let’s leave her be.” he gave Rex’s shoulder a squeeze, signalling to Hardcase and Jesse to kit up, wanting to let (Y/N) mourn in peace. Jesse and Hardcase both cast one more glance at their captain who nodded in agreement with Kix’s words, begrudgingly agreeing to let (Y/N) have some space. Kix however walked up to (Y/N) and placed a hand on her shoulder, placing a bottle of pain pills on the counter next to her.

“Take one of these before you go to sleep at night and one when you wake up general, they’ll help with the migraines from the concussion,” Kix said, only receiving a very small nod from (Y/N). He turned back to the others who were now kitted up, following suit before ushering Hardcase and Jesse out, both wishing (Y/N) the best.

Rex was more reluctant to leave, not wanting to leave (Y/N) but knowing that she needed time right now, “if you need us at all, you know how to reach us (Y/N).”

There was no reply from the women and Rex sighed, kitting up and tucking his helmet under his arm. He opened the door and cast one last empathetic glance at (Y/N) before the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in her apartment.

~ Time Skip~

It had been another two weeks since the incident and (Y/N) was still in denial, her subconscious mind pushing forth memories of their time together to make it appear as though Echo was still alive. She smiled as she washed her hands in the kitchen, just having finished making lunch when there was a knock at the door. She used the force to open it, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Anakin standing there.

“Hey (Y/N),” he greeted a sympathetic smile on his lips as he walked into her apartment.

“Hi Anakin!” she said cheerfully, coming over to hug her best friend. She gave him a squeeze before pulling away, giving him a once over to check for any injuries but found none. Her cheery disposition caught Anakin off guard, making him tilt his head slightly but he said nothing.

“I just made lunch, would you like any?” She offered, moving back to the kitchen and taking down a bowl and two glasses from the cabinet.

“I’m okay for now (Y/N/N) but thanks for the offer,” Anakin declined politely though accepting the cup of water that she offered him.

“How’re you doing?” He asked as she sat down, a bowl of stew in her hand and her legs tucked up under her body. Anakin took a sip of his water as she answered his question though her answer sent a shock through his spine making him choke on his water.

“I’m doing good. I’ve got a clean place and it’s ready for when Echo comes home.”

“What?”

“My apartment. I cleaned it up so that way when Echo comes home he can just relax.”

“D-did Fives and Rex not-“ Anakin stutter over his words, placing his glass down on the caf table and staring at (Y/N) as if she had turned to the dark side. She continued talking however, as if trying to drown out what Anakin was saying.

“And then I’m going to make his favourite dinner and make sure th-“

“(Y/N/N).”

“Yeah?”

“Echo’s gone. He died at the Citadel,” Anakin said, standing up and kneeling down in front of where (Y/N) was sitting on the couch. She refused to meet his eyes, finishing off her stew and standing up, navigating around Anakin before moving to the kitchen.

“N-no he didn’t. He’s just-“ she stuttered out, dropping her bowl in the sink and running the water over it.

“(Y/N)-“ Anakin started but was cut off again.

“He’ll be home soon. I know he will be,” (Y/N) said, turning to give Anakin a quick glare before moving toward her bedroom.

“(Y/N) wait,” Anakin said quickly, jumping over the couch and chasing after her, gently taking hold of her wrist to stop her from walking away. (Y/N) stood still for a moment, thinking over what Anakin had told her, thinking back to when Rex and the others were her.

“I should get going. I need to shower and meditate before he comes home,” she said quietly with a sigh, shaking free from Anakin’s grip and heading down the hall, “you can see yourself out,” she said as the door to her room opened and closed, leaving Anakin alone on the boarder of the living room and hallway.

He sighed as he looked around the apartment, taking in the spotless mess of everything and how nothing was out of place. His eyes landed on the side table next to the couch where there was a holophoto of (Y/N) with him, Rex, Fives, Echo and the rest of Torrent company. Next to that was a holophoto of her and Echo, holding each other and smiling. Anakin picked up the captured moment, looking at the happy couple that reminded him so much of himself and Padme. He felt awful for not being able to bring Echo home, his helmet the only thing coming home with them.

Anakin made his way to the door, sighing once more as it opened and closed behind him as he left (Y/N)’s apartment, thinking over what he could do to help her.

~

“I’m worried about (Y/N), Master,” Anakin said as he stood against the wall in Obi-wan’s office. He had come to his master after visiting (Y/N), needing some advice at how to help her out.

“Why’s that?” Obi-wan said as he continued to type up a report for the council on his datapad.

“She’s in denial about Echo’s death, She still thinks that he’s alive,” Anakin said, shaking his head as he gave Obi-wan the run down. Obi-wan nodded along, listening to Anakin as he spoke. He knew of (Y/N)’s relationship with the arc trooper, even if they had tried their best to hide their relationship. Obi-wan had chosen to show his silent support, turning his head and letting (Y/N) be happy. He knew what it felt like to give up that kind of connection in favour of being a Jedi and there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel some kind of regret.

“But didn’t Rex and Fives-“ Obi-wan started, looking up at Anakin as his apprentice cut him off.

“They did. And so did I but she responded with ‘he’ll be home soon’ and won’t hear anything else about it,” Anakin said, coming over and sitting down at the chair in front of Obi-wan’s desk this time.

“I see. That’s not good then,” his master replied as he looked over to Anakin, placing his datapad away from himself and giving Anakin his full attention.

“He left her a recording but Rex and Fives didn’t feel right giving it to her,” Anakin explained, placing the holorecorder down on Obi-wan’s desk as emphasis along with Echo’s helmet that he brought as well. It had been a battle to get Fives to part with it but Anakin had said to him that he needed it to help (Y/N) through this.

“Why not?” Obi-wan said, somewhat flabbergasted that they hadn’t given (Y/N) something that was intended for her. He looked at Echo’s damaged helmet next, putting a hand against it and closing his eyes, allowing the force to guide him through Echo’s last moments. He felt anguish, anger but mostly sorrow for leaving (Y/N) behind.

I love you (Y/N). I’ll see you again someday.

“Because they didn’t want her to be alone when she found out,” Anakin said, watching as Obi-wan continued what he was doing. He knew his master was focused on his task, connecting with Echo’s last conscious thought.

“I understand that but they should’ve given it to her,” Obi-wan said as he opened his eyes and removed his hand from Echo’s helmet. He had found the closure that he himself had been looking for and he hoped that (Y/N) could find the same. He looked to his student, a defeated look present in his face.

“I know. I understand the denial but how do we get her to snap out of it?” Anakin said, desperation present in his voice.

“I’m not sure but we need to find a way, before the council catches wind of this.”

“I know but how? She won’t listen to anyone about it.”

They sat silently for a moment before Obi-wan spoke up, “Maybe I can help. Give me the holo,” Obi-wan said, taking the holo and pocketing it before using the force to grab a bag big enough to hold Echo’s helmet. He pulled the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door, leaving Anakin sitting down.

“What are you going to do Obi-wan?” Anakin asked quickly but there was no response from his master as he walked out, power walking to where Anakin knew (Y/N) would be.

~

“(Y/N)?” Obi-wan called out catching (Y/N) as she was about to enter into one of the private training room. The woman turned at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up and lips turning into a smile as she saw Obi-wan.

“Master Kenobi! How can I help you?” She said with a smile and invited him into the room she was entering, closing and locking the sliding doors to give them a chance to talk.

“Actually, I was hoping I could help you,” obi-wan said making (Y/N) tilt her head in fake confusion. She had a feeling that Anakin had gone to his former mentor for advice and support and she had a sneaking suspicion that Obi-wan would be the next to talk to her about the situation. He had been there after all, the mission had been one that he led.

“Oh? I-I don���t need any help Obi-wan but thank you for the sentiment,” (Y/N) said, walking further into the training room and discarding her robe onto one of the bench’s against the wall.

“(Y/N), look at me,” Obi-wan said, walking over to where (Y/N) was, “You deserve to be happy you know that right?” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. (Y/N) reluctantly nodded, knowing where this was going. She was over it at this point, everyone trying to convince her that Echo was gone.

“Haha very funny. Has everyone else got you in on this prank to?” She said with a forced fake laugh, moving away from Obi-wan to sit down in the ground. She readied herself into a meditative position, hoping that Obi-wan would get the hint to leave her alone.

“It’s not a prank my darling,” Obi-wan said, turning to (Y/N) and following her to her meditation spot. He sat across from her and placed the bag with Echo’s helmet next to him, waiting for the right moment to bring it out.

“Yeah yeah, tell Anakin to knock it off. I have to make sure I’m alert and ready for when Echo comes home-“

“(Y/N).”

“Obi-wan.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he said, trying to get through to her about how this was not a trick. There was a sigh hanging by thread on his lips, the frustration of (Y/N)’s denial making Obi-wan question if he should just rip the bacta patch off.

“Well I don’t believe you,” she said, closing her eyes to try and tune out Obi-wan and his words. She knew that Echo was somewhere out there and no one could dissuade her from that thought.

“When have I ever lied to you?” She heard Obi-wan say, the question striking a cord inside her mind and her chest.

“Today is the first,” she replied after a brief pause of thought. Obi-wan sighed again, watching as (Y/N) sat in denial. Her eyes remained closed so Obi-wan figured that now was the only time he could pull out his cards. He pulled Echos damaged helmet out of the bag he brought, placing it on the ground in front of (Y/N) before pulling out the holorecording and pressing play.

“Cyar’ika.” (Y/N)’s eyes flew open at the sound of that voice, the hope in her chest bubbling up before she realized that it was just a recording. She looked at the holo of her Arc trooper, watching as his eyes seemed to light up as if he was talking directly to her and not addressing her through a camera. She took another moment and looked down, tears gathering in her waterline as she laid eyes on Echo’s helmet, charred and damaged beyond repair.

“If you’re hearing this then… there’s no easy way to tell you but…I’m gone. I’ve had this recorded since I met you because I knew there was always a possibility that I wouldn’t come back.” His words hit her like a turbo tank, making her fragmented heart shatter even more. Her eyes temporarily met Obi-wan’s before they focused back on the holo of her lover.

“I gave it to Fives because I knew he would be the one to deliver it if something ever happened and unfortunately it did.” She picked up his helmet, the tears now spilling over her cheeks as she finally came to grips with the fact that Echo was really gone for good. She ran her thumbs over the visor of his helmet, holding it in her lap as she continued to listen to the message that was left for her.

“I just want you to know (Y/N), I will always love you no matter where I am. I will always be with you even when we’re miles apart. Ner mesh’la Sarad, move on and live happily, I know you can. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” His final words broke her, a strangled sob leaving her lips as she clutched his helmet closer to her chest. She placed her forehead against that of his helmet, feeling Echo’s last moments before the memories faded.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” Obi-wan said, watching as (Y/N) broke down over the message Echo had left her, having to wipe a few stray tears away from his own eyes. This whole situation reminded him so much of how he had almost lost Satine when they were younger. He felt horrible that he had to do this but it needed to be done before the council caught on. He couldn’t keep covering for her even if he wanted to, wanting to help her as much as he could.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Obi-wan said, standing up and gently maneuvering (Y/N) to stand up. She was pliant and didn’t resist Obi-wan much, still trying to grapple with the message that she had just seen. Obi-wan slowly and carefully took Echo’s helmet and placed it back in the bag so that no one would be none the wiser. He handed the bag back to (Y/N) and placed the holorecording inside it alongside the helmet.

He took (Y/N)’s hand softly and guided her out of the training room, being careful to avoid as many Jedi as he could in the halls of the temple. (Y/N) remained quiet, holding tightly onto the bag that now housed Echo’s helmet and the last message she received. She felt as though she had skipped the second and third stages of grief, no amount of anger or bargaining able to bring him back.

Next thing she knew they had made it to her room in the temple, the door opening and closing behind them. Obi-wan guided (Y/N) to her bed, coaxing her to lay down and allow him to take off her boots. He felt like a father comforting his daughter after a heartbreak. He was pulling off her boots when she finally spoke.

“He’s really gone?” (Y/N) said, her voice distant and haunted, not able to meet Obi-wan eyes. Her eyes instead moved to where Echo’s helmet lay in a bag on the floor of her room, the visor poking out and allowing her a glimpse of his beautiful hazel eyes one last time.

“Unfortunately he is,” Obi-wan said sympathetically, following her eyes to his helmet before he sighed again, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. Thank you Obi-wan. I’ll be okay,” (Y/N) said as she gently forced Echo’s helmet and the holorecording into her hands. She needed to be alone to process everything and she just wanted to try and sleep.

“If there is anything that can be done, please allow me or Anakin to help,” Obi-wan said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a fatherly squeeze before he turned around and left the room, but not before she said to him,

“I will,” (Y/N) said before the door to her room fully closed behind Obi-wan, leaving her alone once more. She stared at Echo’s helmet, the plastiod charred and damaged, the blue paint scuffed and faded. She closed her eyes again, following the force as it led her back to the happy memories she shared with Echo. The words of his holorecording played over and over in her head as she stripped out of her robes and into her night clothes, haunting yet comforting to her.

She lay there in bed for another while, Echo’s helmet clutched to her chest like a tooka doll. She had made up her mind a while ago but now she knew for certain what she needed to do.

~

“What do you mean she left?!” Anakin snapped at Obi-wan as his master told him the news. (Y/N) had requested a private council meeting yesterday and had informed her masters and mentors that she would be resigning from the Jedi order effective immediately. It had come as a shock to most of the Jedi on the council though Master Yoda seemed to understand why. She had apologized profusely, but Master Yoda just bowed his head and wished her well.

“I’m not happy about it either but she resigned of her own volition. There was nothing that could have been done,” Obi-wan said, trying to quell the anger of his apprentice. He knew that Anakin would take the news hard, but he also knew that there was nothing he or Anakin could’ve done to change (Y/N)’s mind. She needed her time and space and they were going to give it to her whether they agreed with her decision or not.

“How am I going to break it to the boys?” Anakin said, dragging his mechanical hand down his face in defeat. The 501st loved (Y/N), always the life of the party and sharing her compassion for them wherever she went. She was their unofficial sister, their vod’ika as they liked to call her.

“I don’t know Anakin. But you’ll have to find a way,” Obi-wan said, mulling over in his head if there was any way that he could help Anakin break the news to his troopers.

“I know.”

“Maybe this will help her Anakin. She was grieving and she was beginning to get reckless on assignments.”

“But that’s not her fault!”

“It was. That’s why the Jedi are not meant to form attachments,” Obi-wan said, giving his padawan a look that told him not to argue but he knew Anakin was to stubborn to let this go.

“But you and Satine-“ Anakin started but Obi-wan cut him off very quickly.

“Satine and I were different. And I did not let me feelings get in the way of my duty,” Obi-wan snapped, not wanting to have the same argument with Anakin that they have had multiple times already. He had made his decision a long time ago, even if he still regrets it in some ways. Anakin sigh in defeat before sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Obi-Wan‘s desk again, bowing his head.

“I hope wherever she goes, she finds peace,” Anakin said, Obi-wan nodding along as well and wishing through the force that (Y/N) find what she needs.

~Time Skip~

“The island is beautiful Phee,” Hunter said as she led the Batch down the island towards where they would be staying for a little.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s our own little slice of heaven in this crazy galaxy. We have a lot of refugees here and it’s a place for them to find peace,” Phee explained as they came to a stop outside the island inn.

“I can see why,” Echo said as he took in the laughter the island had to offer. It was a gorgeous place with a diverse community and a kindness that hadn’t been present in the galaxy for a long while. He surveyed the area around them before Phee lead them inside the inn, momentarily catching a glimpse of someone he thought was familiar. He shook his head though, believing he was imagining it, after all it had been three years now.

“I hope you guys can find the same kind of peace here. Away from Cid, away from the Empire, away from the fighting,” Phee explained as she turned to the inn keeper to ask about rooms where they could occupy for a while.

“Believe me, I think we could use it,” Wrecker said, holding Omega on his shoulder as the younger girl nodded in response.

“I know you could. There have been a lot of people who have passed through here to get away from the fighting. And because we’re not a resource heavy planet, the empire just kind of leaves us alone,” Phee explained as she received the keys to one of the larger guest houses on island and turned to hand them to Hunter.

“Here you go Hunter, I can take you to the house if you want? Or let you guys wonder and find it yourself,” she said, smiling at the Batch looked at one another.

“We should be okay Phee. Thank you, for all your help,” Hunter said with a smile. The others agreed with him and thanked Phee for all she had done for them.

“Don’t forget, dinner at Shep’s tonight.”

She reminded them before she bid them a goodbye and head off to her own homestead, giving Tech a cheeky kiss on the cheek on her way out. The genius clone blushed and followed Phee with his eyes, a shy smile on his face.

Echo smiled at the scene, thinking back to before the citadel mission when he and his cyar’ika used to be so happy. His smile faded as he thought about it, about the war and how when the bad Batch had rescued him from Skako Minor she was gone. Anakin and Rex had filled him in on what went down after the mission, (Y/N)’s denial, Obi-wan giving her the message and his helmet, (Y/N) leaving the order. It broke his heart to hear how much his supposed death had impacted her, he just hope she was happy, where ever she was.

“Echo?” Echo was snapped out his thoughts by a tug on his human hand, turning his eyes to see Omega trying to get his attention.

“You okay? Wrecker called your name twice,” she said, Echo’s head turning to look at his larger brother before realizing that the others were looking at him as well.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just….memories,” he said quietly.

“About what?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“About (Y/N)?” Tech said, making Echo’s head shoot up to look at his genius brother. Tech just shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing, “I over heard General Skywalker and Rex speaking to you about it when we rescued you. I am assuming the public display of affection by Phee must have triggered repressed memories.”

Echo just sighed and grumbled about ease dropping, not wanting to justify Tech with a response. Hunter had also heard the conversation but hadn’t thought it relevant to bring up, knowing that if Echo wanted to talk about it he would when he was ready.

“Yes, I was thinking about (Y/N),” he said and felt Omega give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What happened to her?” She asked, her childlike curiosity seeping out. Echo sighed and turned to the door of the inn, moving to step outside. The others followed him out, beginning to walk to where their temporary house was.

“She resigned from the war effort after I…” Echo spoke, though the words died on his tongue quite quickly. He didn’t like thinking about the citadel or how (Y/N) must have felt.

“After you blew up?” Wrecker said, ripping off the invisible bacta patch that those thoughts brought along. Echo and the others glared at their larger brother, Hunter giving him a smack over the head.

“Tact Wrecker, we’ve talked about this,” Hunter scolded him like a child. Wrecker looked down and apologized to Echo knowing that he may have just undone some of Echo’s personal healing.

The ex-arc trooper sighed and turned around, walking fast to leave the Bad Batch where they stood. They called after him but he ignored their calls, needing to be left alone for now. Echo knew that yes, (Y/N) had resigned after his accident but he didn’t like to dwell on those thoughts. The message that he left to her was still fresh in his mind as if he had recorded it yesterday, telling her to move on and live happy. He hoped that she was happy wherever she was.

~

(Y/N) sat in her secluded house on the island, reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. It had been three years since she resigned from the order and now she kept to herself, going out only when she needed to, speaking to very few people. Shep had been very welcoming to her when she first stumbled upon the beautiful island that Pabu was, a peaceful, secluded place where she could escape.

When she first arrived, she shut herself out from the force, wanting to start a new life even if she had become an introvert. She had found peace and quiet, her new life away from the war and the death was something she was content with, though there was no true happiness. Her happiness had died with Echo and she hadn’t been able to find someone new. There were a few people who had hit on her at bars before she found Pabu but she always turned them down as politely as she could, talking them that her Arc trooper would be there soon.

(Y/N) was coaxed out of her thoughts at the sound of chirping, a blue bird landing on the windowsill of her home. She smiled at the little creature, one that seemed to visit her home frequently.

“Hello little fellow. How’re you today?” She asked the little bird, knowing that she wouldn’t get a response back at all. It was something she did every time the little guys came around, trying to strike up a conversation even if it was one sided.

However, for some reason this encounter felt different, the little blue bird staying on her windowsill a little longer than normal. (Y/N) titled her head slightly as she observed the little creature, the bird staring back at her just the same. She shook her head and went back to her book, reading a few more words before there was another chirp from her little blue friend. This time when (Y/N) looked up, she was shocked to see the blue bird had made its way inside her home, resting on the caf table infront of her.

“Hey little guy. You’ve never done this before,” she said curiously and lowered her book, continuing to observe the small creature as it looked back at her. It flapped its wings slightly adjusting its position before it took off, flying further into (Y/N) house.

“Hey!” She said and stood up, quickly tossing the book on the caf table as she follow the bird to her room. When she rounded the corner to the open door of her bedroom, there was the blue Bird, sitting on top of Echo’s helmet. (Y/N) stared at the little creature in wonder as it rested on the damaged helmet of her deceased beloved, staring right back at her with big black eyes.

“W-what are you doing their little guy?” She asked, her voice cracking a little at the bird continued to stare at her. This had never happened before and she had done well not to dwell on Echo’s helmet no matter how hard it was not to look at it. She had placed the helmet and holorecording on her bedside table a little while after she settled on pabu, her own way of having Echo home with her even if she didn’t like looking at his helmet.

(Y/N) watched as the little bird did a 360 turn on the helmet, it’s eyes meeting (Y/N)’s once more as it completed it’s rotation. The curious little creature then flapped it’s wings and flew the little distance down to be on the surface of the side table, looking at (Y/N) again once he landed. She stared back at the little blue bird, her heart racing as she felt a tug in the back of her mind.

The little blue bird looked at (Y/N) unmoving and unblinking for a moment before he picked up the holorecording and took flight, flying out the open window of her bedroom. (Y/N) shrieked and raced to the window, watching as the blue bird flew away with the holorecording.

“No! Bring it back, please!” (Y/N) pleadingly yelled, running to the front door and throwing on shoes before swinging the door open and running after the little blue bird. She needed that recording. It was one of the last things she had of Echo, the only one where she could still hear his voice. She ran like her life depended on it, trying her best to catch up with her little friend. She bumped into a few people on her way along the island path, apologizing profusely as she passed a few men in armour and a young girl. She had no time to stop as she chased the bird further up the island, needing to catch it before it got too far.

“Come back little birdie please! That’s too important for me to lose!” (Y/N) called out, speeding up her pace.

“Was that…?” Hunter asked as his eyes followed the women who had just run into them.

“I think it may have been,” Tech said, quickly typing away at his datapad before pulling up a picture of (Y/N) from the Republic’s database.

Echo found himself in the square, wandering around aimlessly, while looking at the vendor stands around him. There wasn’t much that caught his eye until he spotted a little blue bird flying through the air. He smiled at the little bird, something about it reminding him of simpler times. Echo held out his human hand out, hoping to coax the bird into landing on his palm. He felt as though he was on autopilot, never having done anything like this before.

To his complete surprise, the little blue bird flew down and landed on his outstretched palm, looking up at him with big black eyes.

“Hey there little fella. Whatcha got there?” Echo asked as the blue bird released the holorecorder from its beak, looking back up at Echo. The former Arc trooper looked curiously down at the device before his eyes went wide, recognizing the recorder as his.

“Where did you get this?” Echo asked the blue bird quietly, not expecting an answer. Rex and Anakin had told him that Obi-wan gave the recording to (Y/N) before she resigned, the message on the device one that he had struggled to record. He didn’t like thinking about the possibility that one day he wouldn’t come back from a mission, but he knew that the message needed to be heard. He stared down at the bluebird in the palm of his hand, his eyes welling with tears as he thought about what this could all mean.

“Blue bird! Where’d you go?” Echo heard a voice call out, eyes closing as he instantly recognized the angelic tone of who it belonged too. His heart beat quickened and his breathing picked up, suddenly feeling self conscious with himself. A lot had changed since the last time he had seen her and he had no idea what would happen when she finally saw…

“Echo?”

He exhaled a breathe he hadn’t realized had been trapped in his throat, tears threatening to stream down his face as he opened his eyes again to look back at the little blue bird in his hand. The little creature just looked back up at him before fluttering its wings and taking off once more, leaving him alone again.

“Echo is that you?”

Echo’s mind was racing a million parsecs a minute, so many things going on but all he wanted to do wasn’t turn around and confirm that she was really here. Slowly Echo did turn around and the sight that greeted him made him want to crumble.

There stood his beloved, tears prickling her eyes as she stared wide eyed at him, her mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as she seemed to grapple with the shock of the moment. They stood there and stared at one another for a moment, neither having the courage to move forward before Echo spoke up.

“Cyar’ika?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he watched the woman he loved breakdown even further. She went to walk towards him but Echo took a small step back, feeling even more self conscious about himself now that he had confirmed it was really her. However Echo regretted his movement the second after he made it as he watched (Y/N)’s face crumble, the hope in her eyes dying ever so slightly.

“Echo,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as she spoke his name out loud for a third time. It was really him, he was alive, even if he looked different to the man she knew. It was still her Echo.

“I-I’m not the same a-as I used to cyare. I-I’ve changed.”

“I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I don’t care about what has changed physically about you. You’re still my Echo,” she said, her voice cracking as she made her declaration. Echo couldn’t help the smile that graced his face as he opened his arms for her.

“I told you I’d be home soon Mesh’la,” he said and that was all (Y/N) needed to run into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she wrapped her arms around his slim waist. His arms found their home around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest as his own tears began to fall.

“I thought I lost you Echo,” she managed to choke out between sobs, Echo’s grip tightening as she spoke.

“I thought I was too ner sarad, but I’m okay now,” he said and felt her nod into his chest. They stayed there for a while, just holding one another as they grappled with this new, almost perfect reality. Echo pulled away slightly from the hug, tilting (Y/N)’s chin up and not waiting a second more before he planted a firm yet gentle kiss to her lips.

(Y/N) tensed briefly before relaxing again, reciprocating the kiss with just as much passion and love. It had been so long since they had seen each other and she knew there was much to discuss but for now, both Echo and (Y/N) were content to be in each others arms again.

He finally came home!

—————

I hope you all enjoyed this! There will be many more stories to come!

Part 2 anyone?

(Fully Edited January 22nd, 2025)

[7waystreet]

dirty confessions | jeon jungkook

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 7 — jungkook

Dear diary,

I have a confession to make. I fucked Namjoon hyung's sister, Hobi hyung's ex gf, and Yoongi hyung's gf all together in our dorm while the boys were out. I'm the golden maknae after all, bitches.

Now let me write out the events of my sexcapade one by one on these pages like I dumped my cum in each of their holes.

It was late into the night when I took off my headphones after hours of playing Overwatch by myself in my bedroom, my hand mindlessly scratching my balls while I walked over to the kitchen for a quick snack. It's then when I heard a few girls whispering in the dimly lit living room of our dorm, my ears perking up at once when I recognized Namjoon hyung's sister's voice. I remember hyung saying she was going to visit so it wasn't really a big deal seeing her in the boys' apartment, but I held in my breath when I noticed Hobi hyung's ex gf and Yoongi hyung's gf both on the couch too, all of the girls talking shit about the hyung line together.

"Thanks so much for inviting us girls so we can all confront the boys tonight!"

Fuck. I knew they were up to no good, but I had the advantage of hiding and listening to their plan without their knowledge while I blended behind a curtain in the hallway. The tea was SPILLED.

I found out Namjoon hyung's sister and Jin hyung were fucking and actually ended up catching feelings for each other, but they were too terrified to come out and tell Namjoon hyung about it. No shit... hooking up with a member's sister is fucked up, but we all know Jin hyung has no morals. She wanted to confess the truth to her brother tonight... Goodluck dealing with his wrath, I thought in silence.

I also found out the two other girls were cheating and hooking up with each other's bfs... What in the fucking world? And the fact that they were cuddling on the couch and saying sorry to one another?! I'll never understand the female species. This is why I stay away from chicks and stick to my video games. I don't even know how I got lucky bagging my gf, who's much more sane compared to these lot.

That's when I decided to call V hyung and update him on this gossip for some light bit of entertainment. I opened our location sharing app on my phone just to check if he was also at home just locked up in his bedroom, and that's when my heart fell out of my chest... Why was his location at my gf's apartment this late into the night? I decided to inspect and give him a call, but he never picked up.

Sorry Jungkookie. Out with friends. Will call you tmrw.

This stupid fucking bastard had the audacity to text me that big of a lie when I have his location? At least Jimin hyung answered my call even when the poor guy was half asleep. An anger unlike I've known ruptured my insides, a mixture of plunging sadness poising my mind when my gf replied back to my sweet goodnight text with "Cuddling a big bear to bed right now wishing it was you."

This bitch was definitely fucking V hyung behind my back. That's it, I lost my cool.

"ALL YOU GIRLS ARE DISGUSTING!"

Overwhelmed with emotions, I stomped into the living room and revealed myself to the noonas, my upset state of mind compelling me into lashing out at them, who realistically didn't deserve to endure my sudden outburst at all. It wasn't really them who I was upset at, it was just girls who cheat in general. But never did I think the night would end up the way it did based off of that aching awkward silence followed my grand entrance.

"Kook... Please don't tell the boys anything you heard. Please. You can't. They've to hear it from us otherwise it'll ruin the entire friend group. It could ruin Bangtan" Namjoon hyung's sister pleaded with puppy eyes.

Hah. Manipulation at it's finest. You're the one who's gonna screw up and then put it all on me? You think I'm a dumbass not able to see the way you're trying to coax me? Baby, please don't embarrass yourself.

"What do I get in return for keeping quiet?" I was willing to play their dirty little tricks, not giving them any satisfaction whatsoever.

"How about we... come to an agreement between the four of us?"

I didn't understand what she meant by her words until she got up and slowly walked towards me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders before suddenly pulling me in for a kiss on the lips. My mind immediately yelled S T O P but my dick felt a tingle when her tits pushed into mine, the taste of her cherry chapstick and the scent of her floral perfume numbing out my brain for the brief couple of seconds we kept kissing.

"If you girls love fucking people who you shouldn't be fucking, then show me a good time. I'll only keep quiet this way" my pulsing cock spoke for itself without my permission...

The smirk on the girls' faces mimicked the one devising on mine when I dropped on the couch and manspread, waiting for the big show to get started. The thrill of it was like no other I've experienced, even topping the high I feel everytime I get a new tattoo. The hyungs were all out at the club tonight and could walk into the living room any given moment, but I didn't give a fuck. I'm lowkey the wildest — no cap.

All three noonas got naked within the blink of an eye, the vibes immaculate with the dim mood lighting, the way they helped me out of my sweats one by one giving me goosebumps while an unbearable heat began running through my blood. It was like I was in a porno getting pleasured by a bunch of chicks, Hobi hyung's ex gf and Yoongi hyung's gf both opting to suck my dick in turns on their knees while Namjoon hyung's sister stayed up on the couch and made out with me. Shit, no wonder the members were fucking these three girls in turns, their mouths like pros gagging on my cock and coughing up spit, getting me even more aroused as they panted and jerked me off with their hands to breathe in some air in between.

The two girls kept playing with my dick, their spits mixing and slobbering all over my boner as they deep throated it in turns, a set of lips lightly sucking on my balls at times to get me moaning from the pleasure. Namjoon hyung's sister and I shared more of a bond since we've been family friends for a while, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a crush on her when I first moved to Seoul and met her, but here I was now with my tongue down her throat, the way she slid down and sucked on my neck prickling a shiver to run down my spine.

I couldn't take it any longer and busted a nut for the first time that night, my money cum shot spurting all over the girls' pretty faces. They shyly giggled as they looked me in the eyes, my chest panting from reaching my high, although my lip curling in a smile when I said "Eat it off of each other." The two baddies did as I told them without hesitation, their tongues licking off my cum from one another's faces, eventually leading them into making out and moaning while naked right in front of me. Holy fuck, I felt myself getting hard again. Both me and noona just watched the two girls getting down with each other for a long time, the way they squeezed each other's tits and kissed one another a total turn on, noona then slowly whispering in my ear "Please fuck me, Jungkook."

Happily.

As I got on top of her on the couch, I couldn't help but think Jin hyung fucks her hard just like this too, but what kind of a maknae would I be if I didn't take anything and everything of Jin hyung's? I live to make him suffer. In fact, it's my birth right.

My attention was mostly on Namjoon hyung's sister as I stuck my cock roughly inside of her without notice, stretching out her walls with my girth, watching her eyes shut close as she adjusted to my length, but the loud moaning of one of the girls eating the other one out on the carpet right next to us was peaking my arousal at a finest. Watching two chicks hook up like that while my cock was pounding such a sweet pussy was an experience I'll never forget. My chest felt a burn that rose up to my throat when I heard the front door's handle rattle, but it was a false alarm as some drunk neighbors were coming home from a bar and stumbled to the wrong apartment... Hah. That didn't stop me from ruining noona's pussy though. I just kept slamming her throughout the incident, half hoping the hyungs walked in during this fuck fest. Fear is not a word in my dictionary.

The screams of all three of the bitches made the walls shake to say the least, my grunts barely audible as I lifted noona's legs up to angle myself even deeper into her pussy, smashing into her g-spot while she clenched tighter and tighter, making it such a gripping fit that I was ready to cum another time. Her face was turning pale as she contracted her muscles and held her breath in, her moans freezing up when she came around my cock allowing me to slid in an out better as she let go, my orgasm following shortly and my cum creaming her up and dripping onto the couch in a slop when I pulled out.

I happened to look down and caught Yoongi hyung's gf cumming into Hobi hyung's ex gf's mouth from a mind blowing eating out job, the wild chick appearing quite talented with her tongue. It was her who needed a reward for the hard work now, so I got on the floor and pinned her down while the other girl was catching her breath post orgasm.

I just stuck my fingers into her wet pussy which was just throbbing and waiting to be filled, pumping in and out with varying speeds and angles to get her whimpering in no time, not breaking our smoldering eye contact whatsoever. It took just a couple of minutes to get her cumming, the way she was already so aroused from tasting pussy a turn on for me too as I gave her what she needed, which was a hot fingering session that'd change her life.

That's when the hyung line walked in on all four of us butt ass naked on the floor in the dorm living room, their feet freezing up in their steps and faces turning ghost pale at the crazy sight.

"Oh, right hyungs... We're all fucking each other's girls if y'all hadn't caught on already. Bangtan for life, am I right?" 

a/n ♡

i imagined jungkook being a key player to tie up all loose ends in this series, the way he disapproves of the hyungs dirty behavior but ends up doing the same exact thing an ode to his bratty maknae side and how he's "allowed" to get away with things being the youngest

— using gen z words: "no cap", "baddie", "tea spilt" reflects his age as he throws in more slang than others

— his fearlessness: jungkook is as brave as it gets in bts, none of the other members being on this level despite their dirty confessions

— feelings towards members: even in his diary he's quarreling with seokjin like irl (calling him out for "no morals", saying he lives to make jin suffer). meanwhile, he seems to view namjoon as an authoritative figure like irl, and his closeness with tae and jimin shows when he decides to call them to gossip about the drama

[dutifullynuttywitch]

Daddy Luci

@will-bite-if-given-the-chance had asked for some fluff with Luci and his daughter Levvy. I thought I'd try my hand at a little drabble to thank you for all your lovely art!! 💛

Heaven's Secret

Pairing: Lucifer x Vicky and their daughter Leviathan (Levvy)

Word count: 782

Rating: General (Fluff)

Tags: Friday flash fics @rc-catalog

“What the Hell do you mean, ‘you lost him’? Find him, you incompetent fool!”

Lucifer roars in anger at the diminutive noble cowering in front of him, his voice booming across the marble hall. The demon is trembling so hard the ruler of Hell fears he’ll start crying. Or lose control of his bowels. Or both. A frequent occurrence, that, unfortunately.

“Well, what are you standing around for? Go! Find Belphegor and bring him to me. Any attempts at rebellion will be severely punished, as you well know. OUT OF MY FACE!”

The demon almost sobs with relief at being dismissed. He nearly trips onto himself in his rush to flee the throne room.

Lucifer turns to Belial, who is hiding a smirk.

“Keep tabs on him. I trust the man about as far as I can throw him.”

“As you wish, your highness.”

His counselor and spymaster moves swiftly, giving out orders to his network of agents.

“I’m surrounded by incompetents.” Lucifer mutters, rubbing at his temples, attempting to dispel yet another tension headache.

Being the ruler of Hell was not easy. Constantly fighting with Hell’s elite, with those arrogant Seraphs. Staving off rebellions, maintaining order in his chaotic realm.

At least, his Vicky was working hard at reforming the Council from within. As was angel boy, Dino, he grudgingly admits.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Lucifer’s stern expression softens upon hearing the melodic sound. He steps down from his throne and crouches, opening his arms wide to the incoming mini tornado.

His little Levvy, his greatest treasure, the apple of his eye, runs across the hall and jumps into her daddy’s outstretched arms.

He scoops her up, grinning at his mini-me.

She really did resemble him, with her sharp gaze, raven hair. An air of authority already at 5, bossing around everyone at the palace, from servants to nobles, to Hell’s ruler himself. But she had inherited her mother’s grace and beautiful blue eyes. And artistic inclinations, it seemed.

“Daddy, look at my painting! I made it for you. See, this is you, and me, mommy, and horsey.”

The little girl joyfully hands him a paper with bright, colourful blobs. She’s covered in a rainbow of gouache, which hasn’t dried yet. Lucifer chuckles upon realizing he’s now covered in paint.

“It’s beautiful, my dear. You’re as talented as your mother.”

The demon tenderly ruffles his little girl’s hair. She giggles at the praise, her bright blue eyes gazing up at him with an expression of pure joy and adoration before she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Lucifer’s heart swells as he holds her close. He had no idea he could feel such love – he simply didn’t think he was capable of it. Until meeting Vicky, that is. She had upended his dark, bitter world with her irreverent attitude, wit, and selflessness. She had been patient with the stubborn, arrogant demon, showing him what unconditional love was. But he hadn’t truly understood it until Leviathan’s birth.

There’s nothing Lucifer wouldn’t do for his little girl.

“Levvy, I told you to wait until daddy had finished his meetings. Now you’ve made a mess of his clothes.”

Vicky gently admonishes the little girl as she walks up, wiping her paint-covered hands with a stained rag, smiling at the tender moment.

“But mommy, I wanted to show daddy his gift now.”

Levvy pouts, peering at her mom from Lucifer’s shoulder before snuggling right back in.

“It’s alright, you know I’m always happy to see you, my little princess.”

“See! Told you so!”

She glances back up and sticks her tongue out at her mom, laughing.

“You need to stop indulging her every whim, Luci, or I’m afraid she’ll become as insufferable as you. I mean, a pony… Truly, does a 5-year-old need a pony?”

Vicky grins as she tenderly kisses her husband and proceeds to tickle the little girl into a giggling fit.

“Of course she needs a pony! If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have asked for one.”

“Luci… that’s… that’s not how this works. Kids are going to want ridiculous, extravagant things, and you can’t always cave in. She’ll never learn that there are limits, or to cherish what she has otherwise.”

“But I do cherish my horsey, just like my puppy, and the kitties, and that baby dragon daddy got me last week. I love all my pets, mommy!”

“See, she’s fine. No harm done.”

“What I see, my dear husband, is that our daughter has you wrapped around her little finger.”

Lucifer chuckles, unable to argue there.

Both of them had him wrapped around their little fingers. His two girls, the loves of his life.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[happi-dreams]

so me and my sister just rewatched both the lego movies and we have just been yapping to each-other ever since and i really need to talk about emmet as a autistic character and the movies in general because GOD—

Emmet autism power time wao

In the beginning of the first movie, Emmet is the only person we see who consistently refers to the instructions and carries it around throughout his day — kinda being a ‘script’ that other autistic people use to fit in with others or use with social situations except instead of being internalised rules it’s a *literal* instruction book (which he has many of). This being a representation of the expectations that society expects of him and the unspoken rules he needs to follow; he’s been essentially wearing a mask throughout his whole life in an attempt to fit in, but even then his peers still see him as different due to them not following the instructions as closely as he does, causing a disconnect that Emmet couldn’t know about because he assumed everyone is doing the same as him.

But by the end of the first movie, Emmet realises that he can be himself and can focus on what makes him, *him*!! Rather than constantly following what others expects of him, he unlocks the ability to master-build and uses it for specifically things that interest him and what he wants (e.g the construction robot and the double decker couch!).

This lead into the beginning of the second movie, after 5 years Emmet is now living by his own life by his own rules, he still follows instructions but this time he makes it himself! He knows that routine and it makes him the most comfortable so he continues to do it but by his own terms. (akin to how autistic people (me) use specific routines and plans to make their day to day easier).

He’s also shown to be the only person who’s appearance hasn’t changed at all, still sticking to his optimistic demeanour because it’s an integral part of his identity as a person and by not conforming to the expectations of society he’s in, he’s being himself and valuing what makes him unique — building things that are specific to solely him.

In the Christmas tree short he’s the head of the construction crew sequence team, in the movie he builds a comfortable home with all of his interests and personality stuffed inside! But it is immediately disregarded as ‘not serious’ and ‘too bright/clean/friendly’ and dangerous to society (dangerous to the views society wants him to conform to) — with that critique of his home then being an indirect critique of his character and who he is as a whole, that he cannot or should not be himself anymore, that he needs to change and be more serious, more mature, this evident key reignites the feelings of insecurity in Emmet that he should not need to feel again following the events of movie 1.

—

Considering Rex Dangervest as a character; this is a version of Emmet we see as who, after being stuck in a dryer and wallowing in feelings of betrayal and anger, conforms to what his old peers wanted from him, putting on another mask now of maturity. He changes his entire appearance, emphasising the change while also burying his past identity.

However, even though he’s being what others wanted of him, he’s still doing it for himself and to attempt to squash or bury the deep insecurity he now has. He’s learned that instructions aren’t needed anymore, which is yet another thing he has completely removed from his identity now and in an attempt to be as un-himself as possible, he lives his life impulsively and destructively — his entire crew being composed of raptors than people, reflecting his distrust of people and further separating himself from them, furthering his isolation in toe.

Rex is also a unreliable narrator, lying about his accomplishments and playing it up to further conform into this mask he has created and making himself seem much more special and interesting than what he may actually be, using this to push himself further away from who he used to be (quite similar to Lucy actually, but taken even further through him taking what everyone says about him literally).

—

But back to Emmet, when he meets Rex he is in a vulnerable point in his life both in situation and emotionally, he’s unsure of whether he should be himself or how others feel about him. He wants to be loved and known by others and not being ignored like he was in the beginning of the first movie, he’s clearly willing to change himself in order to achieve this goal even if it’s not good for him, Rex had (has) this same insecurity and feeds into this intentionally, encouraging Emmet to change himself and grow tougher and stronger mirroring what his peers used to do with him, showing a cycle of hurt that is caused because of those words and actions.

Emmet changes *insanely* quickly, learning the master-breaking ability immediately as opposed to Rex who likely needed years to perfect it, likely pushing most of his feelings deep down and even though he’s accepted more of himself at the beginning of the second movie, his whole life before then was constant repression and masking, the instructions he was given by society actively told him what to do and how to feel, how to answer others but he was never given an outlet for any negative emotions.

That many years of repression cannot be undone such a short time, but Rex gives him a destructive outlet to vent his emotions rather than a constructive one — furthering what Rex wants Emmet to be and what Rex sees as good now because of his own trauma, wishing to now better his past self and help him realise the ‘truth’ earlier than he did, both to help Emmet but also protect him from what Rex had to go through but in the end hurting Emmet anyways.

In conclusion,

Emmet is uber duper autistic and he should be able to get a therapist and also be silly *drops mic*

I have more I wanna yap about but imma give myself a lil break cause i have like, a whole talk about the second movie plus a rewrite of the entire dryer bit plus fun things but ye

But i really hope this sounded good !! if you have literally anything to add or rebuttal please let me know! :D

[alexanderwales]

Persona 5 Royal is my first Persona game, and one of the things that bothers me about it is that the enemies mostly seem to be just a random grab bag of generic RPG enemies with a bit of mythological flavoring.

So I went to look on the wiki, to see if there was some better explanation from all the many games I have not played.

Shadows are "born from humans" and "composed of suppressed human emotions". And then you go look at one of them and it's this guy:

And, okay, the jack-o-lantern is a mythical creature, sure, it's part of humanity's collective unconscious, I can buy that ... but come on. Why am I seeing so many of these things? What does this little dude's fire power represent?

I don't think the game has answers for this, and I wish that it did. I wish that enemies were themed after fundamental social problems, or emotions, or psychology. Depression, repression, anxiety, addiction, loneliness, alienation, discrimination, attachment issues, etc. are all literally right there.

Like if you're going to have basic elemental stuff in the game, then I want flame to represent anger, and fighting that anger to require snuffing the flame out or starving the fuel source. If you're going to have the seven deadly sins, I want a bevy of monsters that mechanically reflect those sins. (I will defend them and say that they have a few that are acceptable, particularly succubus types.)

And if you're going to have mythological creatures, you can at least think about what they represent in the collective unconscious, right? The aspects of them that have made them stick around for centuries, that have made everything harmonize in some way with generations of people.

Really makes me want to make my own Persona, with blackjack, and hookers. In fact, forget Persona!

[shaylogic]

Transcription of the "Layers of Hell" from Edwin's notebook:

Title: Layers of Hell

Illustration of descending levels, to be described with each level transcribed.

Right side of page divides "Upper Hell" and "Lower Hell" (both roughly 4-5 floors)

Left side of page labeling the levels:

Vestibule: Endless(?) Staircase [illustration: spiralling stairs as the top level]

I. Limbo [stick figures stuck in hotel lobby]

II. Lust [stick figures writhing together in a butchershop, hooks and blood dripping down walls shown]

III. Gluttony [stick figures binging and purging food]

IV. Avarice [stick figures seemingly pushing boulders back and forth] Notes to the right: "heavy [workers/laborers(?)], everyone in your way"

V. Wrath [stick figures swept up in what look like currents] Personal note of transcriber: I looked up notes on Dante's version to get a better idea of this, and I quote "Note how the two groups suffer different punishments appropriate to their type of anger--the wrathful ruthlessly attacking one another and the sullen stewing below the surface of the muddy swamp (Inf. 7.109-26)". Link to source.

VI. Heresy [stick figures that appear to be seated around office tables, or perhaps are laying on sacrificial tables? Possibly graves/tombs. I'm afraid this one seems unclear to me.] Personal note of transcriber: I looked up more notes from the same source website as before, and I quote "Dante opts for the most generic conception of heresy--the denial of the soul's immortality (Inf. 10.15)--perhaps in deference to spiritual and philosophical positions of specific characters he wishes to feature here, or perhaps for the opportunity to present an especially effective form of contrapasso: heretical souls eternally tormented in fiery tombs." Link to new source page.

VII. Violence (8-10 subsections are listed for this level, but they are small and illegible) [figures in a flood of blood or being impaled on the sides of the level illustration] Edwin's notes to the right: "trapped, impaled, submerged in blood"

VIII. Fraud [large level depicting giant snakes, dripping blood that reflects Lust's illustration, figures, and something else I can't make out (jutting outcroppings of stone, wings, hands? I am unsure.)] Edwin's notes to the right: "snake pit, gain human form by biting other humans"

IX. Treachery [figures submerged with only head above surface] Edwin's notes to the right: "frozen + stuck + chewed on"

At the very bottom of the page and levels of hell is an enormous creature that appears to be something like a dragon emerging from a dark pit.

[a-confused-spoon]

TDP s6: Soren, Viren and missing the point (2/2)

(jesus christ did I write a lot for this one...)

SPOILERS FOR THE DRAGON PRINCE S6!

*sigh*

I want to make a little disclaimer here: my feelings towards Viren were always a bit mixed- I loved the writing of him, but I loved to see him suffer more.

I would have been fine with him dying just as well as living, even if I didn’t love how quick his flip was in s4 (particularly ep2), the same way I’m not in love with how the most recent season seems to gloss over the weight of what the man did in book 1, 2 and 3, even in the scenes where he tries to take accountability: it’s not just the use of dark magic, misleading Claudia or the mistreatment Soren; he got 2 rulers killed, forced a fiery-transformation spell on thousands of soldiers who didn’t want to partake in it, was willing to put an egg before his son’s life, sealed the souls of people in coins etc.

Even if his redemption had continued (as in, had he kept breathing), I personally would have preferred for him to not get a happily forever after with his family, but something more of a "open ending" or whatnot.

However

I can't shake this feeling that The Mystery of Aaravos has a tendency of prioritizing very well-built and executed single scenes with intense emotion over overarching thematic consistency and overall character growth (the number of shenanigans that amounts to nothing in said two regards being exhibit A, but of course those two things don't exclude the other), and while it's a MASSIVE improvement over book 4 and 5, book 6 still has its issues.

While indeed apologizing to who he has hurt isn’t nearly enough for his journey to be (nor feel) “complete”, it’s also true that Viren isn’t given the possibility to do much else to begin with, despite being the first (and so far only) villain to do a complete 180 and check all the boxes of the ‘big no-no’ list the story presents us with when it comes to morality and/or ethics.

I want to explain my point of view the best way I possibly can, so stick with me for a minute:

The characters of the series (or, well, those who don’t belong to the cosmos) exist in a historical context led by a narrative of power that chains them to a never-ending cycle of violence; the use of dark magic plays a big role in said cycle, not only as an active part of it from the human side, but also because the very practice is on its own an incentive to use it more and more frequently, which is a very similar relationship people have with power in general.

What the “good guys” of the story do, as a matter of fact, is break the cycle by putting an end to the narrative of power and replacing it with one of love, ‘cause as we learn in book 2, real strength means being able to choose love, vulnerability and forgiveness, even if that’s not what they’ve been taught all their lives. Only then they can break free of the chains of history; additionally, for said history to not repeat itself, dark magic needs to be abandoned, even in tough circumstances (unless Sol Regem pulls up in Katolis, but I digress) given the detrimental effects on the long run- and with Xadia and humanity at peace with one another and ideally living in harmony, it wouldn’t be needed at all.

Therefore, the list of ‘big no-no’ here is: don’t do dark magic, don’t pursuit power as opposed to love, don’t let history define your perception of the world.

All the “bad guys” of the story are either unwilling or unable to do one or more of those things: Karim can’t for the life of him look past history, Claudia isn’t able to give up dark magic (for now, at least not without guidance), Finnegrin had no intention of giving up the power he held over his crew- and Aaravos deliberately chose to find purpose in the immediate anger he felt during Leola’s trial (consequently engaging in the centuries old cycle of violence in all its ugliness), instead of giving in to the love he has for his daughter and pass away alongside her, resulting in Leola being left alone and scared throughout the horrible process (and also the whole world going through some crazy shit).

Then there’s Viren, who used to rely on dark magic (unlike Karim), pursue power (unlike Claudia) and look at things through the lenses of history (unlike Finnegrin), so he was a bad guy in all possible aspects.

Eventually though, he manages to successfully give up dark magic and choose love over power and refuse the chains of history (as shown both in his relationship with Terry and his willingness to serve King Ezran), with no expectations of mercy or forgiveness... and literally nothing comes of it because the other characters don’t give him the possibility to act on any of said changes, aside from doing one thing that gets him killed.

So it’s “we gain nothing if we don’t give the chance to learn and grow” (or whatever Amaya said in s4) until...? It's "it's never too late if you quit" or whatever Rayla says in ep3 unless...?

I’d love to agree on the “it’s too late” argument, but aside it going against the very principle of the story, even the awful things he did that I mentioned don’t really matter by the time s6 ends: Lain and Tiadrin are happly together and got to say goodbye to their daughter, and she herself chose to save Runaan instead; the fiery-transformation turns out to be temporary, no one seems to even remember that Eveneere and Del Bar exist etc. The only thing that still has an effect is Lux Aurea becoming unhabitable, yet the only character who gives some weight to said tragedy is portrayed as an idiotic bitter nobody (aka Karim) who should just look past it and take a chance on the elven-human camp. So exactly how am I supposed to care? *

I already talked extensively about the theme of forgiveness in part 1 of this essay (if I can call it that), but the point is that the story shouldn't pick and choose who gets rewarded and understood when acting according to the moral of the story and who doesn't even get a chance at getting a second chance while trying to do the exact same thing, not when the very thematic premise of said story automatically puts EVERYONE into perspective- because if it's the lies of history that chain them to a narrative of power, misleading them, and those started way before the characters were even born, then the conversation unfortunately but necessarily needs to include the perpetrators of violence too; they too were misled, therefore they too can unlearn what they've been taught (which Viren does) and should get a chance to really live a life spent on being a better person, not because they may “deserve it” or because it might not be "too late", but simply because they have the CAPACITY to do good, if they choose to.

A show that really nails this point (to me) is She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, which frankly I'm not even that big of a fan of... speaking of which, if Viren was always meant to die sacrificing himself without no one's recognition, it probably would have been better for him to pull a Shadow Weaver ftom the beginning.

(I don't mean this as a comparison, it's just a way for me to lay down all the elements that I belive ultimately don't work or don't help)

For those who aren’t familiar (MAJOR SPOILERS), Shadow Weaver in She-Ra is for the most part what a lot of Viren haters think Viren is in The Dragon Prince: a magic user that loves power, traumatizing the children she grows and nothing else. She doesn’t even have a greater good she intensely believes in to explain her actions and behaviors like Viren does- she’s just a massive bitch. And she doesn’t really grow or learn during the series, it’s just that at some point hanging around the good guys becomes more convenient for her... if I’m not mistaken, she doesn’t even do much unless someone comes to her spontaneously, aside gardening. At no point in time she becomes really trust worthy or good, and it’s always looming in the air whether or not she’s even beginning to be, or will ever be for that matter.

This goes on for like, 3 seasons, until at the very end- and I mean the very end (like, last episode very end) she does one good thing, sacrificing herself to save the two girls she abused the most throughout the series, which leads to her death.

What really sells the scene (leaving out the music, the animation, the dialogue, the voice acting- all of it is just *chef’s kiss*), it’s the fact that:

Her final words to Catra, who she abused the most, really feel like they put a period at the end of a sentence; it feels like closure, you feel that both her and Adora can now move on;

It’s a deliberate choice, because she had the option of staying safe and not do it, and still did;

She dies at peace with herself, and seemingly proud of herself for making that good action too;

Her death isn't the conclusion of an arc nor it comes out of nowhere, because of the general uncertainty regarding her character that precedes that moment

I talked about closure and 'moving on' in the first part of this essay when talking about Soren (which I'm now realizing was a lot shorter, lol), so I’ll move on to everything else.

The point of him dying can’t be about being selfless, because Viren always was selfless for what he thought was right: he was willing to swap bodies with Harrow, he went back to fight Avazandum when the Queens of Duren went to face the dragon alone, when Aaravos tells him he might die going in Lux Aurea he went anyways etc. Not to mention how Soren, of all people, asks him to do dark magic, of all things, so that he can… help… people… mh, now where have I heard this before? I’m sorry- wasn’t using dark magic for the sake of protecting humanity literally what got most problems started? The source of so much conflict and pain and death? A practice that wasn’t worth doing due to the detrimental effects on the long run, even when if people were going through tough times? Literally what Viren did and received a lot of shit for when he was a full-on villain? By all means, if you find it poetic, that’s great! In my opinion it’s a bit weird: if the show wants to make a point, then it should stick to it;

Viren's literally a shell of his former self, from the very moment he steps into the castle. Sure, knowing about Claudia’s state and the part he played in it wouldn’t make anyone sleep at night, but to have him so desperate, unseen and unheard once he finally picks a path "of truth" as opposed to one of darkness really wasn’t... the best. Like, my own bias against the “redeemed character dying/character searching redemption dying before getting to the end of it” trope aside, not even while dying he seems to reach some kind of inner peace. And when Soren comes into his cell, even then, when it’s his chance to prove that he is committed to this new life path he’s still unsure and scared- Soren had to insist for Viren to step in and help. As if he didn’t really know what to do with himself;

I didn’t hope Viren could build a better life for himself because the idea felt right to me, but because for two whole seasons and a half that’s the direction his character was taking, and the fact that his journey ultimately doesn’t come to a proper end isn’t even drìirectly on him just pisses me off. So much time spent on showing Viren’s progress for what feels like nothing... if not setting up Claudia to be Aaravos's new daughter and giving Soren even more trauma to deal with :D

I didn't want Viren to receive a mere slap on the wrist of course, but I also didn't want his journey to be... this. It feels incomplete, partial, and we didn't even get the final conversation he has with Soren about sacrificing his own heart instead of his son's before saying goodbye- which may have single handedly fixed most of what I said (in part 1 more than here, but still).

[ edit: I’m adding this part because I’m only now thinking about this, and I believe it’s worth mentioning.

As I said at the beginning, I do take issue with how Viren’s journey only considers the damage he made on an interpersonal level as opposed to what he caused on a macro-scale. Had his progress continued only with what the second act of the show bothered to explore so far, I’d still have many complaints, just of different nature.

Because of what I mentioned here though (*) and, again, after two seasons and a half of giving all the impressions that there was a light at the end of the tunnel for him after all, I think that it would have been nice for said things to at least be acknowledged once he got back to Katolis, instead of just making a vague matter of deserving or not deserving mercy, as this is the very logic that keeps cycles of violence going. I do know that’s what they are referring to of course, but I still think it should have been an actual part of the conversation; I briefly mentioned this in part 1/2: I would’ve loved for Soren to be the one to call him out on it, especially the ‘leaving Claudia behind’ bit, in a “You can fool yourself into thinking that you’ve changed, but you can’t fool me, not anymore” fashion of sorts.

This still doesn’t mean that a redemption was impossible to begin with imo. I think that there might be a common assumption that redeeming a character means having them join the main team, which isn’t always the case, it just happens to be the most recurring one.

Idealistically, what I think could have been an ‘okay’ solution (I am talking only in utopistic terms here, though I don’t think it would’ve been impossible to pull off in the actual show- but it would have been admittedly very difficult considering the number of episodes per season) would have been for 2 episodes to be mostly focused on choosing how to go about it:

The first one having the main team arguing with each other before coming to the agreement of sticking to their principles despite not liking the situation one bit (but you know, had it been an easy choice then the efforts at peace would’ve started a lot sooner than the actual events of the show);

The second where the pentarchy, the Sunfire Queen and the Dragon Queen have a meeting, so that they can all have their say on the matter, given that they too were directly or indirectly affected by the man; the meeting is full of tension, there’s shouting, there’s calling each other ‘traitors’ and ‘hypocrites’- generally it really puts to the test how much of the world really is committed to the cause and how much of it isn’t ready to move on, but ultimately they begrudgingly come to the conclusion that there’s obviously a series of restrictions that need to be imposed on the man, while still not completely preventing him from doing his part if he truly means to prove his change. Things like: he cannot put foot into Xadia without the surveillance of dragons (preferably Phyrrah plus a couple more) and/or maybe the drake tamers of s4 lead by Rayla (who Viren is terrified by, so she’s perfect for the job), and when he’s in the human side of the land he still must be guarded 24/7 by at least 5 trained guards; he must find a spell to try to undo the corruption of Lux Aurea, but he’s not allowed to touch any source of magic without being openly granted the possibility to by Callum (who’s now in a higher position); anything he might suggest will be discussed among the council etc… how much of this changes in the course of time and how much people are willing to trust him can either change or not change, depending on whatever follows (even if this list is just hypothetical).

Also, in light of this very recent interview:

I want to be very clear: all I’m saying in these two posts is limited to the immediate effect of s6, and if the following season (or, hopefully, seasons) manages to handle things in such a way that it’ll make me eat my words, I’ll be unbelievably happy. This show means so much to me, and I’m only critical of it only because I feel like the second act of the story doesn’t do quite justice to all that the first one laid out: TDP used to be a hyper-fixation for me and it was the saving grace that got me out of the depression loop after Voltron’s ending, so anything that can get me back into that level on investment will make me cry happy tears.

This being said

I do wonder what the whole point of Viren’s journey of this season and the prior two was if the character is deemed irredeemable by the creators themselves, especially since Soren doesn’t get closure, Claudia only gets more trauma, and Viren doesn’t even die somewhat proud knowing that he did what he could manage to in the little time he had in Katolis after so long (as I said earlier), so no one gets much out of it if not more angst… which is always welcomed, if done with a valid point.

If said purpose was just so that his passing could influence his children’s arcs and therefore being there in function of other characters, the entire thing in retrospect feels like a bit of a waste of time, given that the same exact outcome could have been achieved without him being around in this last season at all: just have Claudia come back home to figure what to do next instead of seeing her dad again; she even has the Sunfire scepter thingie to do the spell from s3, so no one needs to die of poorly executed surgery. And then she can just, find the pearl and cave to Aaravos’s temptation, as he does claim he can revive him again anyways. That, plus I’m dying to have Claudia and her brother talk again after in s4 ☹.

…so yeah, like, on a scale from a VLD Lotor frustration to an MLB Chloe Bourgeois frustration, I’m sort of in the middle with Viren. But I do like that there’s a lot of conversation on the topic ]

CONCLUSION: Despite everything, s6 is the first season I actually enjoyed since s3, though it is still not quite at the same level to me, and while I have my problems with it and I'm very saddend that the Viren and Soren thing is among those, I'm acutally very happy that a lot of people enjoy it and that the fandom is ecstatic. It just wasn't for me- but I still had a fun time writing this two parter :)

Thanks to anyone who got 'till the end of this, I really appreciate it! <3

[khywren]

find the word tag

rules: i'll give you five words. find the word (or closest approximation you can) in your works and post an excerpt. tag others to play and give them new words too!

thanks so much for the tags, @xxnashiraxx, @vividiana, @deadly-diminuendo, @bloodinwine! i am, of course, doing every single one of all your words, so this one's gonna be a bit long, but why not? it was fun going back through some of the fics i haven't looked at in a long time~

dream

In her struggle to wake, she had anchored herself to his presence in her own mind, heart thundering loudly in her chest as she had finally torn herself from the dream as if surfacing for air.

( adrift, chapter 1 )

fire

When he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are the fire that finally sets you alight, blazing red embers that simmer with need. You feel warm, almost deliriously so, as the heat that had been pooling low in your stomach begins to ebb throughout the rest of your body.

( denouement )

pull

The anger that's been simmering inside him erupts, and his eyes flash in warning. But she meets his ire with determination, either too drunk or too stupid to realize what she's done. The memories she's pulled to the surface, long since locked away.

( mist and shadow )

sweet

( vis medicatrix )

His eyes pin you in place, wine-dark and hungry. You're left with no option but to look at him as he watches you carefully, considering. “Or are we going to pretend that you're not aching for my cock already?” His voice is honey-sweet, rich and thick and sinfully decadent.

tears

Tears well in her eyes, blurring her vision. Ysera brushes them away with the back of her hand. She seethes with anger, both for herself and for the lives that were lost because of her inaction. Astarion practically wilts beneath the venom in her gaze. Her voice is strained and stretched thin when she finally finds it. “You really are awful, you know?”

( adrift, unpublished chapter )

sunshine

The roaring of the rapids is what finally catches her interest, and she stops on the river’s edge, gaze trained on the churning, frothing water as it rushes past. The whispers in her mind are an ever-present companion, especially after sunset, like an itch she can't quite scratch. It's easier to drown out their mournful serenade here where there is so much else to draw her attention.

( adrift, chapter 3 )

melt

The snow is falling thickly now, settling in an icy blanket along the rooftops nearby. Astarion makes a small noise and sighs quietly through his nose, resisting the voice in his head that tells him how ridiculous he must look when he sticks out his tongue to catch a snowflake drifting towards him. No sooner has it melted on his tongue than does he hear Ysera's muffled laughter beside him, hand clapped over her mouth when he turns to frown at her.

( frost & flame )

stay

( adrift, chapter 5 )

It's almost concerning how much she likes it. How, for the first time in her life, she feels like she can be of use to someone, instead of just a burden. She likes that, too. Astarion makes a show of gathering the remaining blood on the corners of his mouth with a flick of his thumb and licks the digit clean. He never stays for long once he's finished with her, but tonight it seems he has other plans in mind, and it's more than just the weather that's keeping him.

smile

Astarion’s mouth was made for sly smirks and flirtatious grins, but the tender smile that spreads across his lips now looks better than any of them, the hard edges of his face smoothed by Gale’s profession of love. It suits him, Gale thinks – he will dedicate his efforts to ensuring that Astarion will never again need to hide behind the echoes of his past.

( between the lines of fear and blame )

greed

“Greedy little thing aren't you?” he says, his eyes darkening. He steadies himself with a hand on your hip and hovers over you, lowering his mouth until he's just above your lips. “How lucky for you that I'm feeling exceptionally generous tonight.”

( ravenous )

blood

His rage is a volatile thing, barely leashed behind the fangs he presses into her throat. A soft whimper escapes Ysera's lips, and she clutches at his shirt. Somewhere on the periphery of his mind, he realizes he's hurting her, but the rush of blood that pours into his mouth as he punctures her neck without warning washes the thought away on a current of red. Her pulse pounds in his ears, and with every swallow he can feel his own strength returning. He had been purposely avoiding her before, vexed by his concern for her wellbeing, but it all seems so pointless now.

( mist and shadow )

lips

( khywren's kinktober 2024, prompt 8 )

“You’ve got me dead to rights,” he says eventually, hands held up in surrender. The irony occurs to him, then, and he giggles mischievously, “Well, even more dead than I already am, of course.” When she doesn't laugh at his joke, his expression sours, lips pursed as he pouts miserably at her and sighs. “My humor is wasted on you.”

sun

“She sat with me until sundown and made sure that we – that I – had somewhere safe to go,” Astarion continues. His smile turns sardonic as he adds, “In that moment, all I could think of was how weak and ashamed I felt, and she never made me apologize for any of it. She never has. I've never understood why.”

( khywren's kinktober 2024, prompt 11 )

tempt

“I’ve been thinking about it ceaselessly, that delicious little moment we shared.” His voice is low, all gravel and practiced temptation, so quiet that it forces Ysera to focus only on him. And it's not exactly a lie, far easier to weave into the fabric of the fantasy he hopes to paint in her mind.

( adrift, chapter 5 )

adore

There's a sort of aloof detachment in her voice that Astarion finds rather amusing. It's the same sort of subterfuge he often uses, one of his favorite habits that she's picked up from traveling with him these past few weeks. Oh, she isn't nearly half as subtle about it, wiggling her hips in his lap as she is now, but gods if her efforts aren't adorable nevertheless. Astarion spares a cursory glance at the book in her hand, a roguish grin spreading across his face as he finally understands why Ysera chose this night in particular to pay him a late night visit.

( khywren's kinktober 2024, prompt 4 )

soft

With a soft sigh, Astarion grasps Gale’s hand and brings it between them, lacing their fingers together. He smooths the pad of his thumb across the back of Gale’s hand with absent, subconscious strokes. It is a profoundly romantic gesture, one of many that Astarion has gained a proclivity for since their settling in Gale’s tower in Waterdeep. Through mirroring the comfort that Gale’s touch has brought him during their time together, Astarion has begun to learn how to use his hands not to hurt, but to heal.

( between the lines of fear and blame )

lust

( what am i supposed to do (but sink my teeth in you?) )

He revels in bringing her this uncontested pleasure, safe in the knowledge that no one has ever made her feel so whole, so complete. His eyes rise to meet her own, so dark with lust that the rich gold of her irises has become like molten honey. She watches him with rapt attention, committing the moment to memory as best she can.

promise

( mist and shadow )

One after another over the course of the evening, he has watched from afar as the tieflings that had survived the journey to Last Light have circled her like vultures, taking what they needed from her – reassurance, hope, a promise to ensure their safety. Alfira is but the latest scavenger, coming to collect the final scraps. And Astarion is furious. At the tieflings, for being too weak to carry their own weight. At Ysera, for letting them use her without a second thought. And at himself, for being no better than any of them.

faith

“The terms seem rather generous, don't you think? You have so little faith in me.” She clearly doesn't believe that he can avoid waking her, even with the tea to lull her into a deeper sleep. “I'll remind you that I am a rogue – and a rather skilled one at that.” Ysera remains unconvinced. “You're also a man,” she says confidently. “Most of you lose all rational thought the second the clothes start coming off.”

( khywren's kinktober 2024, prompt 6 )

death

Astarion had begun his new life – his undeath – on his knees. How strange it had felt, to be on the other side of the equation, as Ysera had knelt so willingly at his feet and offered herself to him with no strings attached.

What else might she be willing to do for him with the right amount of persuasion?

( adrift, chapter 5 )

i know most of you have been tagged or done this already, but if any of you feel like doing it again, here's your chance i guess. 😅 that's what i get for always being super late to the party.

no-pressure tagging: everyone who tagged me, plus @verbenaa, @nyx-knox, @roguishcat, @pinkberrytea, @obsessedwhyyes, @elinorbard, @ladyduellist, @nerdallwritey, @hellethil

my words: caress, fang, embrace, brush, smirk

[junkbbykow]

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔑𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔎𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔄𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔉𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰

Hey lovelies! Sorry it's been so long since I made a pac :( I hope you like this one!

This reading is about understanding your current platonic relationships and unveiling the alignment or misalignment they have from your soul family. Whether you feel confident in your friendships or are considering ending them, this reading is for you. Please only accept what resonates, as this is a general reading.

Think of your current friend group and pic a picture.

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3 pile 4 pile 5

Your Current Friend Group Dynamic

Hi, Pile one! From the cards I am getting that you lose a lot of your power in your current group of friends. This has also been a pattern throughout previous relationships. I heard that you can be belittled or torn down by the people around you. It might not be as obvious to you whether that's because you have a neurodivergences that makes it hard to pickup social cues or because the people you are around are sneaky about how they mistreat you to make sure you don't leave. This reading might be for you if you feel like the odd person out. If you're the fat friend, or the Black friend, or any other singularity within the group. Additionally, this pile might be for you if you don't have very close ties with anyone, including family.

With Strength in reverse, you have great power, wit, and charisma but around the people you currently see as friends you make yourself small, avoid stirring the pot, and get mistreated. I also feel as though you have made yourself docile? Like you have the ability to clapback and stick up for yourself, but around these people you have lost touch with that incredible ability. It is okay to be angry. It is a justified response to being mistreated. One thing you can do is reconnect with your anger and be confrontational. Your current friends are WAY too comfortable making jokes at your expense, excluding you, and even talking about you behind your back.

With The Emperor in reversed after that, your energy appears to be off balance. What I am picking up is that you are overly giving. Now, I am not saying you are too generous of a person. I AM saying that there is not a fair exchange or a sense of reciprocity in your current relationship. You may show up to all of your friends events, plan birthday parties, help your friends find opportunities and resources while all they do for you is the bare minimum. I'm seeing that your inner self is very used to this mistreatment. What I am seeing visually is a young femme presenting person who's familiar with being bullied for their appearance or how they act. Again, that might just be people picking up on you for being neurodivergent and not knowing how to handle it. Regardless, I see a person who's very familiar with being the topic of discussion in a negative light. Your inner self has latched onto these friend groups that do the bare minimum because at least instead of bullying you for how you come off they give "constructive criticism" that you can use to be "accepted". That is not friendship and you are perfect the way you are. You don't need to glow-up or do a complete 180 with how you show up in the world to be deserving of love. I also feel like there is no amount of clothing, makeup, money, or glamour magic that will stop people from being hating a$$ b*tches. Just do you. Similarly, you have a personality and energy that can't be hidden so stop trying!

The Wheel of Fortune in reverse demonstrates to me that your blessings are being put on hold due to the unhealthy dynamic of the people around you. I genuinely believe the people you currently hang out with or have been with in the past don't have your best interest at heart. If given the chance, I think these people would deliberately harm or betray you. Their loyalties do not lie with you and they think you are easily used and manipulated (you are not). The reason this is halting your blessings is because these people are very envious and insecure. If you have great opportunities in your life to reach your dreams they will disrupt it on an energetic and physical level. I see a whole WORLD of opportunity open for you and the spiritual hands at be do love you.

Your current friend groups feel restrictive. You can't fully show up as yourself. I can tell you feel alone, isolated, and unloved, but that doesn't have to be the case forever.

With The Hanged Man in reverse at the bottom of the deck you are not showing up in your authenticity. The people around have probably told you that you are too loud, take up too much space, or something along those lines. To me you are bodacious in all meanings of the word (audacious, impressive, and attractive). These can be intimidating for a person who covets those traits but doesn't know how to embody it. While you might not believe me because your friends may be more conventionally attractive, go on dates, and seem outwardly courageous, the way they mistreat you goes to show how little they think of themselves and the pedestal they put you on because you are unapologetically you and there's now way to hide it. Their attempts to change you are to make your smaller and less remarkable.

Your Soul Family's Dynamic

First, I'd like to acknowledge that your soul family's energy is very vocal. And what I heard is that they are concerned about your well being.

CW - the next paragraph mentions suicidal ideation. Please skip the next paragraph if you are not in a place to consume this type of content.

For anyone experiencing suicidal ideation, your soul family genuinely wants to support you through this time. For those of you who can afford metal healthcare please invest in working with a licensed professional. If you cannot access a mental health provider please take some time to ground yourself through mediation, somatic yoga, affirmations etc. If you do have trustworthy people in your life reach out, but if not, I heard a tarot reading could be a way to connect with your soul families energy and bring you some reprieve (this reading does not have to be with me and is not a promotion of my services. It's genuinely what came through as a solution).

END OF CW

With The Hanged Man upright, you'll be in a position to be your truest self. Your soul family will naturally pull you out of your shell or help you unmask for those of you who are neurodivergent. Your soul family is a group of people who all outwardly express themselves differently. As a group you may not look like you make sense together or you all are very expressive in how you dress or show up in the world. Your soul family values being different and not obeying social norms. They may also have unconventional jobs in sex work, art, or a job you never knew existed.

With your soul family, you exist within The High Priestess energy. Your intuition is heightened, your independent, and you are working towards your own goals. Your not wrapped up in other peoples BS or missing out on your own life supporting someone else. Boundaries are respected and you can have your needs met. This High Priestess Upright card also represents not looking for more. You are satiated. Your are not looking for greener grass or needing to beg for your friends (and partner(s)) to provide what you need in the relationship. I also feel like you get to be a lot more selfish with your time and resources. To me, this indicates being with people who are a lot more self reliant then your previous friends (I initially wanted to say partners so maybe your soul family is less platonic and more polyamorous or you identify as aromantic/asexual. Alternatively, this could simply apply to both romantic and platonic relationships).

The Chariot upright, your soul family helps you get places they are the horses pulling you along. You and possibly several of your friends may be disabled. You all work together to get through the day. This could be helping each other clean, reminding each other of their responsibilities, etc. Basically, if you feel like you're doing everything alone and it's holding you back from living the life you desire, your soul family will make it so that is a more collaborative, community effort. These friends may also bring you into connection with a romantic partner.

Judgement upright indicates that these relationships will not only help you in the physical with The Chariot card, but on an energetic level. Having the support of your soul family will help you reach new heights and start on a new stage of your journey. You will be transforming a lot as a person in this group. Your soul family will also help you with decision making in a sense. If you are very indecisive as a trauma response, this will be healed through these connections.

With Justice upright, your soul family connection will not only feel balanced but the amount of love and support you receive will almost make you forget all the bullshit you went through. I think it will also help you value the relationships you have built with these people because you recognize how bad you used to have it. Your inner child will also be very excited for this relationship because it'll be the kind of friends you always wanted to play with as a kid. There's a lot of deep healing here.

With The Tower upright, these relationships will definitely deconstruct your old world view. Essentially, you have never experienced a love like this before and it will reshape how you see love. From this I see a romantic connection coming through with The Lovers Upright (you might meet at a house party/kickback). Overall your friendship is very harmonious.

Last thing I will note about your dynamic is that The Hierophant upright indicates you will be setting some new personal vales. Again touching on your new found ability to be decisive. This also may be more spiritual, so you could gain a better understanding of what you believe when it comes to your spirituality.

How to Evolve towards your Soul Family

If the Shoe Fits indicates you need to go where you are accepted. A lot of past relationships consisted of you bending and contorting yourself to be included in a group of people who don't love themselves let alone you. You'll know when you are moving towards the energy of your soul family when you go where you are wanted. When you are no longer seeking invites, but simply existing on your own. An aspect of this card is appreciating your uniqueness without muddling it down to fit into a box. You are not a "core" or aesthetic your a human being with a wide array of traits, quirks, and abilities. You'll be a lot more outwardly expressive through your clothes, speech, or something that is on public display. This could also be voicing opinions or unmasking if you are neurodivergent.

With Clear As a Bell following the previous card, you'll be in a space in your life where you don't feel bogged down by external factors. There's sense of freedom and openness in your life. Because of this, you'll have less room for BS from other people that you tolerated in the past. I'm having trouble putting this time into words, so you may not even notice when this is happening. It's a period in your life that will sneak up on you. What I can tell is that you'll be focusing on yourself and goin through a time of grounding. Reconnecting with your body through nature is highlighted here.

Fill Your Cup shows me that evolving towards your soul family requires you to invest in your own wellbeing through therapy, exercise, somatic healing, shadow work, hygiene, organizing, and other forms of self and healthcare. Like I said before, focusing on yourself and what you have going on will bring you closer to your soul family. Prioritize yourself and what you have going for you.

At the bottom of the deck there is Offerings. This card is double-sided. On one hand, you'll notice an uptick in opportunities and abundance, but on the other you will be asked to sacrifice valuable things in your life. While I say asked (and of course nothing will be forced on you) it will probably won't be the easiest to let go of. For example people, places, and things that no longer deserve to hold space in your life will start showing their a$$. This is a tell tale sign that you should pack up and move on.

Final Remarks

There's an airy playfulness not only to you but the life you will lead in the future. This is the energy you should look for in a friend group.

The first step is acknowledging that people have not been the best to you and then processing that. Then you can finally grieve the relationships you have never had but always wished you did.

It will be very clear that the people you consider your soul family are. There won't be hesitation or doubt. The relationships you build won't come with many setbacks. For example in your past relationships you could have fall in and out of contact with people or maybe had a argument early into the relationship or a third party disrupted your friendships.

Did you enjoy the reading? Please give me feedback! If you'd like to book a reading, I have Cameos for $15 here and written readings for various prices here. Find more PACs here!

Your Current Friend Group Dynamic

Immediately I felt as though your current friend group was in alignment with where you currently are in life. I think this is more how you feel and perceive them and less to do with the reality of the relationships you are in. You idolize your friends in ways they don't deserve. With Death being the first card for this reading, your current friend group has put an end to a lot of unhealthy cycles for you. Simultaneously, I am picking up on a codependent energy. While they may help you unlearn a some destructive perspectives from your past, they are teaching you just as many new ones. Your current platonic relationships consist of a group of people from all backgrounds. It seems as though there's a lot of people with different perspectives on life all connecting through a mutual experience or philosophy. This could be connections born from close proximity like roommates, coworkers, classmates, etc. While this group may be in alignment with you currently, I do not foresee these relationships being lifelong commitments. One thing I'll note is that I am picking up that you are very different from the people you currently hang out with. I don't think you realize it yet, but beyond the surface you will come to realize just how different you and your current friends are. I see this taking years to accumulate and present itself to you.

With The World following the previous card, this is apart of your life journey. These current relationships are there for a reason and you are currently exactly where you need to be. While this may sound positive, it's really a neutral outlook. Your current relationships aren't bad or good. There's an energy of indifference. I just heard "good for now." Enjoy the people you are currently around. Cherish the time you spend together and what you have gained from them being in your life while they are there. When it's time to le t go, be open to leaving these relationships behind even if they haven't been "bad" to you in the physical.

With The Fool on the bottom of the deck, I think you are oblivious to the true intentions of the people around you. You're moving to the beat of your own drum and taking things as they come. People around you are definitely not in that energy. I see people being envious of this energy you have and investing a lot of energy in seeing you fall.

The vibe of your friend group is very trickstery and they almost convinced me they were not of harm in the current moment, but they definitely are. Please leave the people you are currently around immediately. If you are in forced close proximity due to being roommates or something like that, create distance, spend less time with them, and create relationships outside of this group. Someone(s) trying to control you and keep you to themselves.

What I picked up earlier in the reading may be true. You might be in alignment with this energy, but I don't think you want to be. I think this might be the first time you have had a friend group that feels even halfway decent. The trickster energy might even be coming from you in some aspects. I think you are disregarding A LOT of red flags in these relationships. You have never not been mistreated so being mistreated less feels good. To you it seems like normal arguments because at least it's not as explosive as before. It may be subtle but it is deadly.

These people are definitely blocking the right people from entering your life.

Your Soul Family's Dynamic

With Death reversed, this dynamic will be an opposing reflection of the relationships your currently in. For example, where your current friends may be all about dressing super nice for superficial trendy reasons, your soul family will dress up because it makes them fell good and is representation of who they are. Your current friends are very performative and egotistical, whereas your soul family is pleasure based and is motivated by their internal compass instead of external gaze.

The Empress indicates that your soul family is a community. No one person is the "leader" or better than the rest of the group. I feel as though your soul family pulls its resources together into a community library of source. if there's something someone needs one or all of you are willing to lend it. Similar to Pile One, your soul family is not seeking anything more than what they currently have. They are satisfied with the relationships they have built and are more focused on cultivating one they have than looking for greener grass. There's an openness to new opportunities with your soul family, but you wait for the opportunities to arise instead of spending time searching for them constantly.

Temperance only further proves that you soul family is a group of people who call it by ear and coat with the circumstances they are given. There's a playful balance and a skillful maneuvering of abundance within this family. With temperance, I see your soul family is appreciative of your fool energy. Instead of looking to manipulate this playful, naive, and optimistic personality you have, your soul family embodies these attributes as well. This brings a lot of luck and positivity to you all.

How to Evolve towards your Soul Family

You'll connect with your soul family's energy when you stop constantly searching for the next big thing. I think it eats you up inside not to be where you want to be or experience setbacks, but it's okay to slowly ease int the life you want or take a turn for something better because you have the capacity to take it on because you were going slow enough to change course.

With Fill Your Cup, you should dedicate energy to uplifting yourself. With Plie 1, this was about self-care, mindfulness, and health. For this pile, I see you should invest in your education. Learn what it means to be in healthy interpersonal relationships, but also improve your technical skills in your your hobbies/career. I think you all should take time to cultivate a strong sense of self. What do you like and dislike, what's acceptable or what's not, and what are you seeking and does it actually interest you.

Final Remarks

MAJOR shadow work needs to be done in this group. Literally had a breakdown reading into this energy xD Please write, talk, move whatever you are dealing with out of your body.

YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED UNCONDITIONALLY AND NOT HAVE YOUR FEELINGS HURT BY THE PEOPLE CLOSE TO YOU!

There is a funky energy around you. Please heal and protect yourself from harm when & how you can

There's a person around you either love bombing you or just very aggressive with how the try and get close to you. Your relationships should unfold overtime. They are faking closeness to misguide you

Your current friend(s) do not see you in high regard. They think your easily manipulated or just flat out not smart

If you are seeing this and this pile truly resonated with you, there's an opportunity for you to leave your current friendships before it blows up in your face. Creating distance and not making long-term commitments to the people you are currently around would be a smart move based on the energy I am picking up. When you avoid a sticky situation, you'll never know what was wrong or out of alignment with your energy. You just have to take that leap of faith and trust that you made the right choice.

Did you enjoy the reading? Please give me feedback! If you'd like to book a reading, I have Cameos for $15 here and written readings for various prices here. Find more PACs here!

Your Current Friend Group Dynamic

I didn't get a card for this question, but it seems to me you don't have friends. It's interesting because the image of your group makes me thinking of having an imaginary friend. Maybe you're a frequent or maladaptive daydreamer. You might have acquaintances or people you talk to but no real bonds with these people. On an emotional level you feel very distant from most of your peers and general environment. I'm hearing this could also be a one-sided dynamic between you an other people. A majority of you are giving your best into "friendships" you have but the people you are trying to build relationships with don't seem to show an interest in any offers you make. This might also be in the reverse where someone(s) is trying to be your friend and you keep shutting them down.

Overall, you are alone or alone adjacent. I'm also picking up on a defeated spirit.

Your Soul Family's Dynamic

Your soul family's dynamic is sort of elusive. The best way I can describe it is as an empty beach with big crashing waves. It makes me think of that one scene from My Sister's Keeper. Your soul family might have disabilities both visible and invisible. /i think internalized ableism is going to be something you unpack with your real friends. You might also live together for an extended period of time. I think you'll start as friends and then become roommates and start to feel like a family. There's probably four people in this group but two in particular stick out. One has a very goth presentation while the other seems more generic or "normal." I am also picking up on the city of San Francisco and living in a duplex with one of those rounded windows. I'm also seeing a queer flag hanging on the wall like a tapestry. Your house with them isn't messy but definitely lived in. The vibe is an mid-2000s romance/drama. Also everyone in the group is pretty young. I think you'll meet in your mid to late 20s.

How to Evolve towards your Soul Family

Your evolution doesn't require steps. It's more of just keep hanging on. Like giving up is an option that I think you very eagerly want to take, but the only way to get to these people is by sitting through the bullshit and waiting for it to get sorted. Basically, you need to build up your endurance. If there were any steps to take it would be to fill your time with something until they come along. Hobbies, binge watching TV, sports. doesn't really matter as long as it keeps your from ruminating in scary (possibly self-harm ideation) thoughts.

Final Remarks

From the very start f this reading I can tell that this collective is very dissociative. Please look into professional counseling or seeking out grounding rituals that will tether you to your reality.

You're loveable now your just not in a loving environment

There's emphasis on not changing. Don't alter your values or change your standards in hopes it will speed up the process. It won't.

Doing stuff for the plot is fine, but be safe. You may have a self-destructive pattern that puts you in harms way (specifically with romantic/sexual encounters) Be wary of people who view you as a sexual being and nothing else

ENJOY YOURSELF. There is no point in being sad for your entire wait. If it makes you happy do it.

Did you enjoy the reading? Please give me feedback! If you'd like to book a reading, I have Cameos for $15 here and written readings for various prices here. Find more PACs here!

Your Current Friend Group Dynamic

Your current friend group seems curated. Almost as if you handpicked them to serve a specific purpose in your life. While this a great strategy for networking and building a career, it doesn't carry the depth of genuine connection. You may still be picking friends based on who your parents or some authority figure would approve of. I almost feels as though your "friends" have to be impressive asf (on paper) to run in your circle. This may even transfer into physical beauty and expecting your friends to meet a certain standard. While I think you are satisfied with your friend group from a certain perspective, it doesn't have long lasting impact. Do you feel like your relationships are lacking? It might be missing sincerity. These transactional relationships lack reciprocity. Both you and who you are in relation with expect some compensation for every good deed from rides to the airport to venting about a shitty ex.

Your Soul Family's Dynamic

Your soul family is supportive. They show up. They aren't looking for anything in return accept your love and affection. Your soul family is trusting. They don't look for the evil in everyone. These people genuinely have an optimistic outlook on life and believe people are "good" at their core. I'm picking up Gemini energy so you might be a group of talkers. There's also two sides of your groups dynamic. On one side you are supportive and hold deep conversation while on the other you have fun an goofy conversations. I see a minimalist apartment in a city that's candle lit for some kind of dinner party or game night. Your soul family has a seriousness about them. You might all excel in your fields and still be impressive on paper but that's not WHY your friends.

How to Evolve towards your Soul Family

To reach your soul family start by living your life without expecting to get hurt. I also feel like you like to play games with people and test them. That won't serve you when you engage with people who are genuine. You have to learn how to trust and lean into what feels right. I also suggest gaining an understanding of when your body is aligned to people and places. Instead of testing people you can simply check-in with how you feel and make choices from your internal world instead of external.

Final Remarks

Hang out with people who look different. Add some diversity to your circle

Your need for perfection is impacting your ability to make true connections. Unpack how you force yourself to meet impossible standards and how that might be bleeding over into other relationships

Give back to others. Your energy is very self serving and there isn't much space for other people in the picture

STOP GIVING A F*CK

Did you enjoy the reading? Please give me feedback! If you'd like to book a reading, I have Cameos for $15 here and written readings for various prices here. Find more PACs here!

Your Current Friend Group Dynamic

Your current friend group seems like it's a group of people who feel counter-culture but perpetuate the same systems they feel oppressed by. You may be surrounded by (or you are as well) people who describe themselves as "haters." While critiquing harmful systems and practices there's a point where is becomes obsessive. Are you and your friends pointing out how a trend or style is appropriative or are you just bullying "normies." When n your not hating or sticking your nose in other peoples lives what are you doing? Is any of it meaningful to you? Does it feed your soul?

This one is a bit harsh, but this isn't an easy thing to hear about yourself of your friends. Please keep in mind I am in no way judging your character. This is just the energy I am picking up.

I suggest taking note of how much your current friends talk about random people and the choices they are making. When you remove the comedic timing and social justice lens is it a critique or is it just liberal bullying? You might also notice that the same things they claim t hate may be perfectly fine when they do it.

Your Soul Family's Dynamic

Your soul family is nonjudgmental. They don't spend much time focused on the actions of others. Your soul family dynamic is more focused on pleasure and giving back. Instead of making sly comments about things they dislike, they have a strong sense of morals that they do their best to uphold in daily life. Essentially, they lead by example. When I see your soul family, I see a backyard garden. one that you all share. I also see your soul family as people who do random acts of kindness just because they can. I'm not sure how you all will interact with each other but you all seem very focused on making the world a better place. I think you all enjoy the simplicity of life: reading books, walking, and looking at trees.

How to Evolve towards your Soul Family

You need to do a thorough assessment of who you are surrounded by. Are you oblivious to the true intentions of your current friends? Are you perpetuating harmful behaviors that aren't aligned with who you want to be? You might also be lacking in abundance. That's a clear indication that the vibes are off and you need to plant yourself in a more nourishing environment. If this reading resonates, it's likely your close friends are sending you evil eye, engaging in one-sided competition with you, or just genuinely could careless about your wellbeing. To evolve to you soul family, stop running from loneliness. If you spend time alone, you'll probably discover a lot about yourself and be able to see your current relationships from a new perspective. You might even come up with a solution to your abundance problems.

Final Remarks

Love yourself enough to sit with your own thoughts

Your current relationships come off as codependent. Do any of your friends have anything going for them or do you all just fill up each others time to avoid dealing with your problems

The nature of your soul family with become clearer as you spend time deciding what YOU want from life

Do you even like your friends as people? Like sure they are funny but are they people who are nice?

Don't let someone else's problem become yours

Did you enjoy the reading? Please give me feedback! If you'd like to book a reading, I have Cameos for $15 here and written readings for various prices here. Find more PACs here!

[cuttyclowngirl]

Daima EP.5 (Spoiler) Review/theories

• While Panzy's eye color means nothing in regards to her lineage, she does come from an important lineage as some of us suspected. Panzy, princess of machine otakus. Glorio not immediately recognizing her by name or appearance likely implies either 3rd world demons aren't interested in the royal family in general or Panzy's very existence is somewhat restricted to those who live/work at her castle. Could it be that she never actually received a collar as a result of that? Is that why she wears the scarf?

• Glorio very clearly doesn't want anyone outside of Goku's circle to join in regardless of any help they can offer. (Not part of Dr Arinsu's plan?) No choice now. Panzy's a helpful mechanic.

• Glorio did in fact speak to King Kadan, who did not in fact request that Glorio seek out those who defeated Majin Buu; implying that Glorio "snuck" into King Gohma's castle & gathered intel on Goku & crew in episode 1 before being "sent out" by King Kadan. Even a 3rd world demon who does "work" in the 1st world shouldn't be able to get anywhere near the castle of THE SUPREME KING of the DEMON REALM. He was let in. Dr Arinsu popped up unannounced in episode 1 & Glorio just happened to be spying behind a pillar? Nah.

• The 3rd demon world being the biggest, (yet worst off) world in the entire realm might just maybe imply worlds 1&2 have slightly lower gravity, but probably not.

• King Kadan is a man of seemingly righteous anger (Glorio describes him as an uncivilized Mafia boss) who wants to get rid of King Gohma & somehow assume the throne of Supreme King. For "peace". Is that actually possible? Was he perhaps promised that position by a manipulator in the shadows? (Dr Arinsu?) Panzy said her father "only steals from criminals & only kills bad people", which is usually a set up for a heartbreaking reveal that'll leave Panzy in tears. Or it could be nothing.

• Apparently those awful collars even function as tracking devices.

• They even have onigiri in the Demon Realm. Cute. Implies demon rice fields & unique demon ocean seaweed.

• Panzy has a knife she hasn't used yet. Judging from all that courtyard soldier training going on at her castle, she probably picked up a few moves from watching & learning.

• It was nice hearing Goku introduce himself with both his names. His interactions with Panzy are cute so far, as I'd hoped. Panzy herself is charmingly stubborn, insisting on getting her way without throwing tantrums/ throwing a fit.

• In the 3rd world at least, the inhabitants live up to a thousand years. This likely doesn't apply to the Glinds who live for a VERY long time.

• Every Majin (demon) can use at least one magic spell. So could magical enhancement explain Glorio's strength?

• Goku can canonically touch his nose with his tongue.

• Panzy implied that there are next to no Glinds in the Demon Realm due to the vast majority leaving ages ago, as many of us suspected. Though based on the passive aggressive conversation Shin had with Glorio episode 3, there might be a handful of Glinds somewhere in 2nd world.

• So the stick with blue cloth tied to it from the OP isn't a grave marker, but a path marker. Based on the sound of the wind (in the scene in this episode) & the direction the cloth was blowing, you're supposed to take the path the cloth points to. (In the OP the cloth is blowing to the right, then the camera pans to the right, where Goku & crew are seen traveling)

• Panzy confirms that Dabura was still a bad guy prior to the events of the Buu saga, so thankfully he hasn't been retconed as a good guy King. (Wouldn't make sense)

• Dende's caretaker (nanny?) is cute. Hope she gets a name. Much smarter of King Gohma planing on raising Dende so he can have his own personal set of dragon balls & probably get rid of Neva. (So it was probably Degesu's idea)

• I want to know what those demon onions have seen...

• The Tamagamis have never been defeated. Their poor win streak's about to be demolished.

• Smart of Shin (Supreme Kai) to bring up the pin number issue with King Kadan, who introduced us to a demon (of currently unspecified gender) named "Hybis" (Hibiscus flower?) who loves ballet & will head out to pick up/help Vegeta & crew. Hybis also shows off a device that's visually similar to the dragon radar, but also Babidi's energy reading device we saw Spopovich using when Gohan went SSJ2 at the tournament in the Buu saga. Just cooler. (Panzy is also seen holding a similar device in the ED) I swear, if the eyeball on Hybis' belt turns out to be the Tertian Oculus...

• Shin straight up drops "universe 7" in front of Goku, who doesn't register it & that's hilarious. Shin also finally shared his suspicions of Glorio with Goku, bringing up things we've been bringing up & such. Goku was Goku about it.

• I wasn't ready for the children's book art style bit when King Kadan ordered 3 men to steal a plane for Hybis from the "Nemophy Gang".

• Man, someone must've put a plane curse on Glorio, cuz bro has ZERO luck in that department. A 4 day trip & it breaks down in 2 minutes. (Guess Kai-Kai isn't an option)

• Hope we return to Kadan castle from time to time to introduce us to a few of those background characters like cool, pretty, buff red head with the silly ah chest plate.

• Wonder if Glorio actually has any of that liquor King Kadan offered to provide.

• Cute detail of Goku carrying luggage with his nyoibo.

• I super hope that axolotl tailed stuffed animal Panzy brought along will actually be sold IRL. I want.

[nobite02]

Dean and Metallica

Dean was born in 1979, which puts him in Generation X. Even though he is technically at the tail end of this generation (generations are not decided by birth years; I will die on this hill), his personal experience would have been more typical of the middle of the generation. It's generally accepted that music taste develops in adolescence and early adulthood, around 12-25.

Many of the bands we see as Dean's favorites were at the peak of their popularity in the mid-70s to early 80's. This would include Led Zepplin, AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Kansas, Lenard Skynard, and Blue Oyster Cult, which are all of the classic rock variety. Still, there is also Iron Maiden, Motörhead, and Def Leppard, which are more hard rock moving into metal categories. All of these bands have their most popular albums, which come out from anywhere between 1974 and 1984, which would make Dean around 6 years old. Suggesting that these are the bands that John may have listened to.

However, Metallic is also one of Dean's favorite bands. Metallica was formed in 1981, and their first 5 albums were extremely popular from 1883 to 1991. The black album, or their self-titled, came out in 1991, meaning Dean would have been 12, right around the time people developed their music tastes.

We don't see Dean enjoying much of the popular Gen X music, such as any of the prominent grunge bands: Nirvana , Peral Jam, or Alice In Chains . Alt-rock, such as Weezer, Green Day, REM, and Rage Against the Machine. Other metal bands popular in the 90s include Mega Death, Pantera, Slayer, and Anthrax. We see evidence of glam metal through the fake names they use and bands like Warrant, Kiss, Mötley Crüe, and Poison, but it's minor.

Metallica is well known for popularizing the thrash metal genre, which began to develop in the early 80's. Many elements that categorized the genre come from punk and hard rock of the late 70's and 80's. Eventually, moving into more of a hard rock style with the black album and later albums. Many of their influences include classic and hard rock bands of the 70s, all of which have been mentioned. All to say that Metallica was new in the 80s and "underground" and would have been popular among teens rather than adults who liked rock.

John, an enjoyer of typical "classic" rock, would have likely found Metallica too fast and chaotic. Dean, being 12 when The Black album came out, would have likely found it on his own (though other kids or just listening to the radio) and began developing an interest in Metallica. John and Dean likely would have fought about it due to John not liking it, the pushback of normal adolescents' developmental stage, and the sense of self-development.

Enter Sandman and Some Kind of Monster are referenced/played in the show. Enter Sandman is the top track from Metallica and was released in 1991 on the black album. Some Kind of Monster is from their 2003 album St. Anger.

This was a lot to say that Metallica sticks WAY out from many of the other bands Deans enjoys. To me, it appears something HE chose to listen to vs. what John listened to. Metalica's lyrics often address addiction, war with anti-war statements, religion, and mental health.

I suggest listening to Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin song, "Ramble On," against any Metallica song. Some of the top ones are "Enter Sandman," "Master of Puppets," "Some Kind of Monster," and "One."

Most of this is pulled from my head, from what I know from my parents, my history of rock and roll class I took 4 years ago, and some minor googling. PLZ share any other thoughts you all have. I'd love to hear them!

[tinylongwing]

💖, 👏, 🍎 for the art/writing ask game?

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy? (and which artwork?)

I have too few published fics to really feel like one is my pride and joy here - but I am instead modestly quite fond of Al mal tiempo, buena cara as a neat little pre-canon thing.

@spectromagic knows what work of writing is my pride and joy but it is unpublished, unpublishable, and half her doing anyway lmao

For fanart, my current top favorite is the one I did for Halloween a couple years ago as part of a series of three. I'm so pleased with how I pulled off all the detail and just the raw disturbing energy of Johnnie post-blackbrain in this. I think it looks great, deserves more appreciation than it ever seems to get, and also I want more horror in this fandom in general.

For non-fandom art, it's so much harder to pick a favorite! But right now I'm feeling like it might be this piece of California Condors nesting in a giant sequoia to accompany an essay published in The Wildlife Professional a few years back.

🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?

(I assume this is the question you wanted - this is a different clapping emoji vs yours but it's the only thing I see on the list that's clapping? lmao)

idk how to translate this to art but for fic/writing, man, that's hard. I'm going to go with Rigo's mental description of Dale under a street light not because I think it's peak literature but because it's cute. They're cute. I'm obsessed with them. They're adorable. I have tentative fic plans. I'm annoyed by how little I like the art I did based on this moment.

“They make their way toward the apartments. Past the fenced-in basketball court, past the murals, all fire and lightning that decorate the walls facing the street which advertise to anyone who passes by just who all lives and operates from this little cluster of housing. Once government subsidized, now a ramshackle fortress with two kings. It’s a funny thought to have right as they pass a street light on the way into the parking lot. The gold halo cast around Dale’s hair looks like a crown.”

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

(cut here because this got long but please do read if you have any interest at all in the LH world and our real world and how they intersect)

Now THIS is something I will definitely stick to writing for because I have so much to say. I have learned a lot doing research for art too, but oh my god, the amount of research I have done for writing and understanding and piecing together the elements of 1) US history, especially during the 50s-60s, 2) Chicano history and culture in LA, and 3) gang and drug culture and history. I have read books, I have watched documentaries, I've dug up redlining maps from different decades. It's fascinating. And it's horrifying.

I was born in the 80s and have never lived in Southern California so I really don't have firsthand knowledge about the time period and location this is all set in. Yeah, we all know the Vietnam War happened and yeah, we also all know that California used to be part of Mexico but like, everything that happened during and in between those broad points on a timeline fascinates me. I could go on and on. But that's the stuff that informs my writing and is so fun to then twist into that subtle supernatural horror going on in the LH world. I'll take this as an example:

Mandy reaches out an arm to signal a turn, and the two World Enders sweep down off the boulevard and toward the concrete pillars that mark the failed path of the 5 over Hollenbeck Park. Johnnie had only been a kid when development started and quickly halted, a consequence of neighborhood resistance and one too many accidents on the job site, as papers had put it at the time. And yet Johnnie remembers the day that the pond rose up in one dark wave with more water than it had ever held, and swallowed the concrete whole. That scared off the city developers more than the anger from the community had ever done.

So, one of the things modern Los Angeles is known for are its freeways, right. It's the terminus of Route 66, maybe the last of the great highways before the freeway projects started. LA was kind of a backwater for a lot of history but once the population boomed they had a sudden need for roads - huge roads that could move a ton of people, trucks, supplies, oil, military stuff, etc.

LA was also monstrously redlined (as were most cities, and as are most cities even if they'd prefer not to admit to it). Entire areas were for Blacks only, or for Mexican immigrants only, etc and realtors wouldn't give loans for those areas, wouldn't let nonwhite people move to homes not in those specific areas. "East of the river," as Johnnie indicates the location of their underground clubhouse in Vide Noir, specifically signals that they're hanging out in one of these major redlined areas that is actually a thriving Hispanic community, probably somewhere vaguely Boyle Heights (as supported by the views of the specific bridges we get in the movie, and suggestions of cruising/lowrider culture like in the Long Lost teaser clip for Not Dead Yet).

(view of the LA river with multiple bridges spanning it close together, from Vide Noir as Buck walks around looking for the underground clubhouse - this appears to have been shot near 6th street, aka Whittier Boulevard, famous for lowrider cruising in Boyle Heights)

(Map of Los Angeles today, with a red X marking the approximate location of the above shot, with an arrow indicating the camera is facing south. Look directly east of the river and see how many massive freeway interchanges were put right through huge chunks of Boyle Heights.)

(Los Angeles redlining map, 1939. The large round red blob on the center right side is Boyle Heights. Red = "hazardous", high interest rates, no home loans available, etc because these were primarily nonwhite areas of the city)

LA didn't start off having freeways, and they have an enormous ground footprint. They needed to put roads in, and they needed to demolish entire swaths of existing, thriving neighborhoods in order to put those huge roads in, so they picked communities to destroy based mostly on those redlining maps. Black communities, Latino communities, were ripped apart, bulldozed, demolished in order to make way for the new roads.

Now, look up to my google maps section there. See that patch of green just left of the words "Boyle Heights" that has a freeway right on top of it? That's Hollenbeck Park, the one mentioned briefly in the fic in that paragraph I pasted.

Once described (~1890) as the most beautiful park in Los Angeles, with an idyllic, serene lagoon, they fucking... put a freeway through it in the 1950s. Because freeways gotta go somewhere! So how about right here! In this one lovely park! That'll be great, those people don't deserve nice things anyway!

Fuck, man.

So in my LH-ified version of reality, where sometimes the land itself has power from being full of its centuries of ghosts and community and hopes and dreams and death and destruction, the park consumed this construction project. The lake stands. The people fought back, they got in the way, they did their best to prevent this, and when that wasn't quite enough, the waters of the lake rose up and swallowed the scaffolding, destroyed the initial concrete pillars, probably killed a good few people in the process on either side because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The city decided at that point it probably wasn't worth it to put the freeway right there after all (so they moved it a few blocks at most).

And when I write this stuff, like, Johnnie isn't really conscious of the history or the right- and wrong-doings himself, he doesn't really have it in him to care, but the city remembers. The land cares. The history is all right there just under the surface.

Anyway that's the kind of research I do that winds up being like, tiny elements of worldbuilding in a fic about drug use and existential dread.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours - Part 10

Grudgingly Yours, Part 10

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter 10

You were irritated beyond belief, but you reminded yourself to stay calm. Six weeks. It took six weeks for Alistair to agree to meet you. His avoidance and refusal to see you was intentional, your punishment for daring to speak up when he was bitching out Billy and then ignoring him. In hindsight, you should have kept your mouth shut and minded your own business. But that was the past, and there was nothing you could do to change it. Now you just had to eat crow and make amends so you could move on with your fucking life.

After another twenty minutes of waiting in Alistair’s home office, he walked in. His slow gait, supported by the ebony walking stick, may have made him look weak and fragile – but it was a ruse. This man was brutal and ruthless, and you couldn’t afford to forget that.

“Such a surprise to find you here.” His tone was cold as ice as he took a seat across from you. Obviously he wasn’t just going to get to the point, he wanted to put you through the wringer for talking back to him.

“I apologize for ignoring your calls after the party.”

His disapproval was evident, his tone dripping with scorn. “Yes. You did that, didn’t yo?”

Maybe he expected you to beg and plead for his forgiveness but that wasn’t your style. Besides, he’d be ecstatic at the reason you were here. “We both know this arrangement hasn’t worked out like we hoped.”

“Indeed.”

“So it’s best that we cut our losses and move on, don’t you think? I’ll happily sign the divorce papers as soon as you can get your lawyers to draw them up.”

Alistair simply stared at you, no emotions on his face. “I suppose you expect the same payment of $5 Million?”

You cocked your eyebrow. “I deserve more for putting up with your asshole grandson, but I’ll settle for $3 Million instead.” Frankly, you were willing to walk away with nothing but Alistair didn’t need to know that.

“It hasn’t even been a year of marriage and you expect more than half the amount?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.”

A cold smile fell on his lips, and it made the hair stand on the back of your neck. “There will be no negotiation. You will stay married to him, as agreed upon, for a period of three years. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he fucking with you? You thought he’d jump at the offer. The most pushback you expected was about the divorce settlement, but it never occurred to you he’d force you to stay married. No, absolutely fucking not. “You can find someone else to punish your grandson.”

“I’ve already spent considerable time sourcing you. That was enough.”

“I’m not the kind of woman who follows orders, Alistair. I’m trouble. I fight back. And you don’t want that, you want someone who obeys. So there’s no need to prolong this bullshit arrangement.”

Alister raised his eyebrow, drawing your attention to the uncanny family resemblance that existed in the Russo family. “You will do as I say when I say it. You will be at my beck and call and ready to do my bidding.” A cold sneer settled over his lips, like he was enjoying this.

Disgusted, you stood up. “I’m not your fucking servant.”

“Sit down, cunt!”

The stark hatred in his voice stunned you frozen. His face was red with anger, his dark eyes flashing with pure vitriol. “You think I’ll let some dirty whore belittle me and get away with it?” He shook his head ‘no’. “You’re nothing. Less than nothing. A fucking cotton-picker. The only reason you’re here is to knock some sense into my goddamn grandson. So you’ll do your fucking part and you’ll behave. And if you don’t, I’ll make sure you and your dirty pack of monkeys pay.”

His racist tirade shouldn’t have been a surprise. You dealt with microaggressions your entire life but to have it be so explicitly thrown in your face, that too by someone whose life you saved in the operating room – that was a bitter pill too swallow.

A deceptive calm settled over you. “You will regret this, Alistair.”

His demeaning smile was like salt on your wounds. “We’ll see.”

You watched after him as he made his way out of the room.

***

Calvin was on his phone, sitting up in bed next to you. Sheets were gathered around his waist, his chest bare. It was almost a year since you saw him last and in that time he’d gotten more buff. That was definitely a pleasant surprise. Smiling, you snuggled up to him and he squeezed your arm in return.

It was so easy with him. It always was. The relationship, the sex, the friendship. Even the fickin’ breakup in college had been smooth. That’s because Calvin didn’t play games. He wasn’t romantic or thoughtful – or faithful - but you knew exactly where you stood with him and that’s what mattered the most. Besides, you weren’t looking to be in a committed relationship. The no strings thing worked for you and satisfied all of your expectations, and you were happy with it.

"Still can’t believe you’re married.”

Calvin’s words brought you out of your reverie. “It’s a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.”

“Who does that shit these days?”

You scoffed. “Like you would’ve said no.”

“Maybe not but I’d be worried. What if I ended up with a psycho? Or some ugly hag?”

“Oh no, not that,” you deadpanned.

He gathered you in his arms. “That’s a guy’s worst nightmare. Stuck with an ugly wife.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s not like I called you ugly.”

“Yeah, I’m so lucky.”

He laughed, hugging you tightly. “No, it’s Billy Russo who’s lucky. He could’ve gotten stuck with pure ghetto trash. Instead he got a queen like you.”

You grimaced, hearing Billy's name but Calvin didn't seem to notice. Instead he angled forward to kiss you as your mind dwelled on his words. As flattering as they were, the Russos didn’t share the sentiment. To them you were nothing, less than that. And there was no way you'd stay connected to them.

Despite Alistair's threats, you were going to find a way out.

***

“What do you think?” Calvin asked.

The two of you were out for dinner at a new restaurant Calvin was excited to try. He was supposed to leave yesterday but had extended his trip, which you were originally happy about. Unfortunately Calvin’s finance bro side was out in full-force and he was trying to sell you on some stocks.

You studied the financial records in front of you, trying to focus. While you could easily get through pages and pages of anatomy and physiology textbooks, finance was never your thing. But even you understood that the return in your investments Calvin was promising seemed too good to be true. “I’m not sure. I need time to think.” Which meant Ritu, one of your closest friends and a genius at this stuff, would be vetting the records for you.

“What? You don’t trust me?” The same dazzling smile that hooked your attention from the moment you met graced his face. “Think I’m hustling you?” He winked.

You shut the folder, biting down on your bottom lip. “Not making any deals when I’m hungry.”

He laughed, dragging the menu closer to him. “What do you want to eat?” You were still deciding when he spoke next. “How about lobster? Been craving it.”

You shook your head, not at all surprised. “Sure. Been dying for an anaphylactic shock.”

“Shit. I forgot you’re allergic.”

“You always do.”

“But I mean, I can have it. Right? It’s not like you’re going to start wheezing if it’s on the table.”

You sighed, shaking your head. They had this conversation every few years, because Calvin couldn’t bother to remember the details. Which was another reason why he was a friend and nothing more. “You can have it. I just won’t kiss you for the next few hours.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned down to give you soft, staccato kisses on your lips. “Totally,” you murmured, kissing him back.

“Technically we don’t need to kiss to fuck,” he murmured.

You pushed him away, giggling. “Or maybe you can go fuck yourself.”

He laughed, nodding at the waiter to get his attention. After the two of you put in your orders, his phone rang. “I have to take this.” Calvin slid out of the cozy booth and headed outside, leaving you alone.

Out of boredom, you started flipping through the statements again. Like that wasn’t bad enough, you took a sip of his bourbon to see if you’d acquired a taste for it. Immediately you put it down. Nope, absolutely not. You hated the stuff. Swallowing the liquid, you were about to reach for a glass of water when a familiar face slid into your booth. Immediately you froze.

Billy.

Eyes bloodshot, face weary, fatigue marked his features like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His beard was a bit fuller, not as neatly trimmed, and hair a bit longer. The scruffed-up look should have been a deterrent to his good looks but it proved to be the opposite. Even in his green bomber jacket and casual get-up, he looked like a GQ model.

Your heart pounded in your chest, you wanted to bolt. But you didn’t. Because running would mean he affected you and he absolutely didn’t. Not anymore. You learned your lesson from your last encounter with him.

“Disappointed to see me alive?”

Your voice was calm and steady, just like your heart would soon be. “Couldn’t care less actually.”

His molten eyes narrowed onto your face. “I went through hell to come home but you weren’t there. The place was empty.”

You swirled the liquid around in the glass before taking a sip again. This time you were numb to the bitter taste.

“Anita said you moved out weeks ago.”

Your gaze lifted to meet his. “What do you want, Billy?”

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

His eyebrow quirked up in surprise. Maybe he was expecting tears or some kind of angry showdown, but you were prepared to give him nothing.

“You’re pissed at me,” he said after a few seconds of silence.

“No. Why would I be?”

He paused, peering at you closely. “How I left Curtis’s wedding, I want to explain-”

“There’s no need.” Head tilted to the side, you casually ran fingers through your hair. “It doesn’t matter and I don’t really care.”

“Bullshit.” His dark eyes bore into yours, trying to forge some kind of connection. “You care. That’s why you’re here.” His head nudged in the direction of the door. “With that fuckhead.”

Rage rushed through you like wildfire but you refused to give into the chaos. He didn’t deserve any kind of emotional outbursts from you. He deserved nothing. Leveling him with a fixed gaze, which took all of your resolve, you responded in a steady tone. “Don’t insult my friends.”

“Yeah but he’s not just a friend, is he? He’s more than that. You’re fucking him!” He gritted through clenched teeth.

You leaned back in your seat. “And how is that any of your business?”

“Say it. Admit that you’re fucking him.”

Pure menace laced his voice but underneath the danger you also sensed hurt, like he was in pain – and you didn’t understand why, you couldn’t wrap your mind around it. He was the one who humiliated you. He’s the one who walked away. And now he was here demanding answers like he had a right to you or something. Fuck that. You weren’t going to play this game with him.

You crossed your elbows, straightening your back.

Two months ago you opened yourself up to him, letting him in a way you rarely had with anyone else. Despite all your reservations about his behaviour, despite your insecurities. You used to think you could trust your instincts about people because they never guided you wrong. Your instincts screamed Billy was safe, that he could be trusted, that he wouldn’t hurt you - and then you were swiftly proven wrong when he absolutely shattered you.

You hated him. Despised him. Because of him, you could no longer trust yourself and you could never forgive him for that.

And he would never know anything about you again or how you felt. He’d never have that power over you again. “What I do with Calvin, if I fuck him, how I fuck him, when I fuck him – none of that concerns you, Billy.”

Suddenly he reached across the table, grasping your face, the desperation in his eyes startling you. “You’re my goddamn wife!”

Voice exposing none of your tumultuous emotions, you wrung his hand away from your face. “On paper. That’s all. And only because your grandfather promised me the good life.”

He didn’t release his grip on you, his fingers intertwined with yours. “In the beginning, yeah. But things changed.”

You gave him a perfectly perfunctory smile that belied all the anger and hurt swirling through you. “Nothing changed.”

Billy squeezed your fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Once a golddigger, always a golddigger. We don’t change our ways.”

“What’s going on here?” Calvin asked.

Shit.

His return caught you by surprise, you totally forgot about him. Immediately you retracted your hand from Billy while Calvin’s eyes wandered from you to him. His return was a blessing in disguise because he distracted Billy, giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.  You could still feel the heat of Billy’s touch on your skin, like he’d branded you permanently. You wanted to cut him out, out of your life, out of your mind, out of every crevice in your soul he’d managed to sneak into and embed himself.

“Is everything okay?” Calvin asked, looking at you.

“Everything’s fine.” You gave him your most flirtatious smile before casting a quick glance at Billy. “You’re interrupting our date. Please leave.”

Billy leaned back in his seat, still watching you intently before a sneer curved his lips. Finally he shifted his focus to Calvin, the snide smile on his face growing more prominent. A smug prick through and through, and you wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

Not one to back down from a fight, Calvin stared back at him. “She asked you to leave.”

Billy snickered, amused. You expected him to be a little intimidated by Calvin’s muscular frame but he didn’t seem the least bit threatened, irking you. His gaze finally returned to you, his hands sliding into the pockets of his bomber jacket. Only few minutes earlier he was playing the part of jilted lover, and now he was right back to being the entitled asshole that he really was.  

“I fucked up before, so this right here?” He drew a circle in the air with his fingers.  “I’ll give you a pass for this fuckface. But it ends here. Tonight.”

“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?” Calvin roared, taking a step toward Billy.

You grabbed Calvin’s arm. He was ready for a fight but Billy remained seated, grinning, like he was enjoying this. “Ignore him,” you urged Calvin.

“This one needs a tighter leash, sweetheart,” Billy taunted.

Seeing that Calvin was about to pounce, you pulled him into the booth to sit beside you. Snuggling closer to Calvin, you linked your hand with his. “Go away. You’re not wanted here.”

Billy’s attention shifted from you to Calvin. In an instant his smarminess was gone, replaced with a sinister expression that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. “End things with my wife. Tonight.” The quietness of his voice contradicted the full malice in his tone. “Because if I see you with her again?” He slid out of the booth in one fluid motion, rising to his full height. His stature was foreboding, his words hostile. “I’ll kill you.”

He swaggered away as quickly as he appeared, leaving you and Calvin watching after him.

“You should’ve let me take a swing at him,” Calvin griped.

You scooted away to put some distance between you and him. Your throat felt dry, your nerves on edge. Seeing Billy again, talking to him, it unleased all of the emotions you’d buried after he left you. You swigged back a glass of water.

“Thought you said he was cool with everything. Why was he being a punk then?”

You rubbed your temple, closing your eyes. “Because he’s bored and this is a game to him.”

“Do I have to worry about this asshole?”

You turned to look at him. “Of course not. Someone else will come along to distract him.”

“Are you sure?” Calvin asked.

“Yes,” you said with certainty. Spotting the server bringing food your way, you bit down on your lip. “Can we grab this to go? I just want to go back to the hotel room.”

“Thought you were hungry.”

You sighed. “I lost my appetite.”

***

The moment you and Calvin returned to his room, you jumped him. Kissing him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You needed to forget every trace of Billy and Calvin could do that for you. His mouth claimed yours, his body holding you down on the bed. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure take over.

You needed this, you needed him.

Because losing yourself was the only way to get Billy out of your mind.

***

Few days later you returned to the Airbnb you were staying at. Eventually Alistair would force you to return to the penthouse but until then you were doing short-term rentals. After coming back from the wedding, you couldn’t stand to live in the same place you shared with Billy. So you’d grabbed a bunch of your clothes and necessities and found somewhere else to stay. The one-bedroom condo was definitely not on the same level as the penthouse, but you liked it. It was small and cozy and had everything you needed.

You glanced down at your phone. Still no texts from Calvin. You were supposed to meet him for dinner at Carbone but he hadn’t showed up. That in itself wasn’t surprising. He had a tendency to forget plans or run late most of the time, but usually he texted. Oh well.

You flicked on the light switch in the kitchen but nothing happened. Great. You’d have to contact the host to get the bulb replaced. Walking over to the cabinet, you reached up to grab a glass and strolled over to the fridge to get some water.

You were almost done with the drink when you felt a strange sensation sweep through you. Like you weren’t alone in the apartment. Like you were being watched.

You paused. Knives were two cabinets over. Too far. But you had a glass in your hand.

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

Billy. His low, raspy voice was coming from behind you.

You took a slow, deep breath and then whirled around to attack him.

To be continued...

A/N - As always, thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. Feedback keeps me going and I appreciate every comment and reblog you guys throw my way.

Next chapter - we'll finally get Billy's POV :)