#how to increase memory power naturally

[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the LADS men react when they catch you reading smut. 🫣 Part 3

We still had some time to vote but I think my man is going to win this one.

Enjoy!

TW:Smut

Part 1 (Xavier)

Part 2 (Caleb)

Part 4 (Zayne)

Part 5 (Rafayel)

Vote for the next LI at the end of the story ❤️

As you settle into the plush comfort of Sylus' bed, your fingers dance across the screen of your phone, pulling up the controversial book that had been the talk of the office. The one your female coworkers had gushed over in hushed whispers, their cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming with a sparkle. You had to know what all the fuss was about.

As you delve deeper into the digital pages, your eyebrows arch higher with each passing paragraph. The book is even more explicit than you'd been led to believe, the author leaving very little to the imagination. You find yourself squirming slightly on the luxurious bed linens, a warmth taking over your cheeks that has nothing to do with the crackling fireplace nearby.

When you reach chapter ten, the scene unfolding before your eyes is downright scandalous. The protagonist and her lover are locked in the throes of ecstasy atop a roaring motorcycle. The vivid detail and raw, primal nature of their fucking is intense, the author paints a picture so vivid it's almost impossible not to feel the heat of the moment yourself.

As the scene unfolds in vivid detail on your phone screen, a familiar but not unwelcome heat begins to pool low in your belly. The author's graphic descriptions of the lovers' frenzied passion ignites something within you. Before long, you find yourself squirming on the bed, thighs clenching together as a tingling ache builds between them.

Your mind starts to wander, the fictional couple's encounter blurring with memories of your own encounters with Sylus. You picture his strong hands roaming over your curves, his kisses trailing down your neck and chest. In your mind, you replace the faceless man on the motorcycle with Sylus himself.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, your hand drifts down to the waistband of your pajamas, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against the slick folds of your pussy.

You know you shouldn't be doing this, but the ache between your legs demands satisfaction. Lost in the lusty fantasy you touch yourself, your own touch a poor imitation of the passionate lovemaking in the book. 

Your moans fill the spacious bedroom and you drop your phone onto the plush bedsheets, the device still open to the obscene motorcycle scene that sparked your desire. Your fingers dance over your folds, stroking your sensitive clit with increasing urgency as you picture Sylus pinning you beneath him on his own roaring motorcycle.

Two fingers plunge deep inside your core, pumping furiously as you imagine Sylus pounding into you, his powerful hips driving forward with relentless, hungry need. The sound of your breathing mingles with the imagined roar of the motorcycle engine, spurring you on as you chase your rapidly building climax.

Your fingers pump faster, plunging deeper, as you picture Sylus reaching up to secure his sleek black helmet over his head. The dark visor doesn't completely obscure his eyes and you can feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you. He leans in close, his hot breath fogging up the inside of the helmet as he growls, "Hold on tight, kitten. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name."

With a cry of ecstasy, you come undone, your walls clenching rhythmically around your plunging fingers as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your body writhes on the bed, the silken sheets tangled around you as you ride out the aftershocks of your climax.

Panting softly, you slowly come back to yourself, a satisfied grin playing about your lips. The ache between your thighs temporarily sated. The phone screen glows, the motorcycle scene frozen in time, a testament to the sinful fantasy that brought you to such a state.

You close your eyes, the events of the day, the provocative novel, and your fantasy of Sylus fade into the background as you surrender to the pull of exhaustion. Your breathing evens out, falling into a soft, steady rhythm as you curl up beneath the plush blankets of Sylus' bed, completely at peace.

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You stir from your sleep, the beep of the alarm clock piercing through the silence of the bedroom. As you blink you become acutely aware of a firm, warm body pressed against your back. A muscular arm is draped over your waist, holding you close to a broad, bare chest that rises and falls with each soft, steady breath. Glancing over your shoulder, you find yourself face to face with Sylus.

You remain still, not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep, and take a moment to appreciate his devastating good looks. The grayish white hair, usually so perfectly styled, is now slightly disheveled. His brows, normally arched in a state of contemplation or challenge, are now smooth and undisturbed. Even in sleep, there's a raw, masculine beauty to Sylus that sets your heart racing.

As you study him, you can't help but remember the vivid, intimate fantasy that played out in your mind the night before. The way his strong hands gripped your hips as he took you hard and fast on his motorcycle. You feel a fresh wave of heat pool between your thighs at the recollection.

Suddenly, Sylus stirs, his hold on your waist tightening. His voice, low and gravelly from sleep, rumbles in your ear. "Morning, kitten," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Sleep well?"

You press a quick, chaste kiss to Sylus' lips, feeling the ghost of your intense fantasy linger in the fleeting touch. A rosy blush stains your cheeks as you pull away.

"Mm, yes, I did," you reply softly, slipping out of his embrace and rising from the bed, the cool air of the bedroom kisses your skin. As you gather your belongings and begin to ready yourself for work, you can't help but sneak glances at Sylus as he stirs and stretches like a panther. The sheets pool around his waist, revealing his toned torso and the tantalizing V that disappears beneath the fabric. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, and quickly avert your gaze.

"Well, I should get going," you say, slipping into your shirt and buttoning it up with trembling fingers. "Can't be late for my shift today, I have an important meeting with Jenna"

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Sylus' intense gaze following your every move. You take a deep breath and turn to face him, your blush still evident on your cheeks. "I'll... I'll see you later, Sy" you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to leave and are almost out his bedroom door when you hear him call you.

"Miss hunter"

You freeze mid-step and slowly turn to face him, your eyes widening as you follow the direction of his pointed finger.

You hurry over to the bedside table, snatching up your phone and clutching it to your chest like a guilty secret.

As you turn to make your escape, Sylus' deep, smooth voice stops you in your tracks once more. "Pick you up after work," he states. It's phrased as a question, but the steel in his tone makes it clear that he expects an affirmative answer.

"I... yes, alright," you manage to stammer out. "After work." You can feel Sylus' gaze burning into your back as you hurry towards the bedroom door once again, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

As you step out into the hallway, you can't shake the feeling that Sylus knows exactly what you got up to last night. The way he looked at you, the knowing glint in his eyes. You shake your head, trying to erase the unsettling thought, and fasten your steps towards the front door.

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You step out of the Hunters Association building, your heart already racing at the thought of seeing Sylus again. As you round the corner, your eyes fall upon the very object that had dominated your lustful fantasy the night before, Sylus' sleek, black motorcycle.

And there he stands, leaning casually against the seat with one muscular thigh crossed over the other. He looks every inch the dangerous, alluring man you know him to be. His leather jacket and pants hug his powerful frame.

As if sensing your presence, Sylus turns his head, piercing crimson eyes locking onto yours. A slow, sensual smile spreads across his face, and he straightens up, taking a step towards you. "Ready to go, kitten?"

You nod, your voice catching slightly in your throat as you reply, "Yes, I'm ready." You reach for your helmet, your fingers brushing against the smooth, glossy surface. However, before you can secure it on your head, Sylus' large, warm hands enclose your own, stilling your movements.

He steps closer, his chest nearly grazing your breasts as he leans in, his helmet tucked under one muscular arm. His eyes bore into yours, a glimmer of something dark and hungry flickering in their depths. "Before you do," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, "would you like to use my visor to apply your lipstick, just like you did the other day?"

The memories of that day come rushing back, the way you had applied your lipstick using his visor as a mirror, your fingers trembling slightly as you did so. The way he had looked at you, his eyes burning into yours, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak.

The vivid fantasies that played out in your mind last night flash before your eyes, and you know you can't bring yourself to do it this time. Shaking your head, you take a step back, putting a little distance between your body and Sylus. "No, not this time," you murmur, your cheeks flushing hotly at the admission. You can't help but glance at the helmet tucked under his arm. "I'd rather not," you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet Sylus' intense gaze. The air between you feels charged, electric, as if Sylus can sense the forbidden thoughts swirling in your mind. You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away from him.

Releasing your hands, you reach up and quickly secure your helmet on your head, the plastic shell a barrier between you and Sylus' knowing eyes. The visor fogs up slightly as you take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "We should get going.

Sylus smirks, the expression turning wicked as he watches you squirm under his gaze. He knows, there's no doubt about it. Somehow, some way, he discovered your open phone and read the steamy scene that had left you so hot and bothered. A thrill of excitement and nerves runs through you as Sylus settles his own helmet over his head, the sleek black visor hiding his expression but not the predatory gleam in his eyes. He knows, and now he's playing with you, toying with the knowledge of your secret desire.

A fresh wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as you watch Sylus swing his leg over the motorcycle seat. With a newfound determination, you hitch up your skirt slightly and swing your own leg over the bike, settling yourself behind Sylus.

A slow smile spreads across your face beneath your helmet as you wrap your arms around his waist, your hands splaying over the firm expanse of his abdomen. Two can play this game, you think to yourself, a sense of anticipation coiling in your belly. Sylus may have discovered your secret, but he doesn't know the full extent of the hunger that consumes you.

As the darkness grows and the city lights start to twinkle to life, a sudden boldness takes hold of you. Without warning, you slide your hands lower, your fingers teasing along the waistband of Sylus' leather pants. You feel the firm, muscular flesh beneath the leather, the heat of his skin seeping through the material. Your touch is light, almost feather like, but purposeful in its intent.

His body tenses beneath your wandering hands, and you feel the motorcycle wobble slightly as he tightens his grip on the handlebars. The knowledge that your touch affects him, that you can unsettle the usually unflappable man, sends a thrill of power rushing through you.

Spurred on by this sense of control, you allow your hands to dip lower, your fingers playing with the button of his pants. You trace the line of the zipper, feeling the hard bulge that begins to form beneath your touch. The knowledge that you can arouse him so easily, that your desire for him is reciprocated, makes your head spin with excitement.

Your breath grows shallow, fogging up the interior of your helmet as your hands continue their exploration. The motorcycle rumbles on beneath you, the vibrations adding to the building heat between your thighs. You're playing with fire, but you can't bring yourself to care. You want to burn, to consume Sylus with the same desperate hunger that had you coming undone in his bed.

"How much longer until we get home Sy?"

"Not much longer now, kitten. Just a few more miles to go." The motorcycle speeds up slightly, the wind whipping around you as you race through the darkening streets.

But you are not able to stop yourself and you reach down and slowly unzip his leather pants, the metal teeth parting ways to reveal the straining bulge beneath.

"Y/N" a note of warning laced into the command. But you ignore him, your fingers already delving inside to cup the hard, hot length of him through the fabric of his underwear.

The motorcycle surges forward with a roar, Sylus apparently as eager to get home as you are. The speedometer needle sweeps past the legal limit, the city lights become a stream of glowing lines.

As the motorcycle rolls to a stop at the red light, you waste no time in freeing Sylus from the confines of his underwear. Your fingers dip inside, wrapping around the hot, throbbing length of him, pulling him out into the cool night air. Sylus inhales sharply, his hips jerking slightly as your hand closes around his flesh.

Before the light can change, you're already working on him, your palm pressing his hard cock against the firm plane of his abdomen. Slowly, torturously, you run your thumb over the sensitive head, circling the tip in maddeningly gentle strokes. You keep your touch light, mindful of the delicate skin.

"Kitten" he grits out as the light turns green, and the motorcycle lurches forward again.

“Keep your eyes on the road Sylus, I don’t want us to crash.” 

His grip tightens on the handlebars, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road ahead. "Fuck, Y/N," he grits out through clenched teeth, the curse echoing in the confines of the helmet. "Keep this up and we'll end up in a ditch."

You can feel the bead of precum forming at the tip of his cock, the slick fluid allowing your fingers to glide more easily over the swollen head. You take full advantage, rolling and kneading the sensitive flesh between your fingertips until Sylus is gritting out a low groan.

You smear the precum over your fingers, using it as lubricant as you drag your hand slowly down the thick shaft. You can feel it throb against your palm, Sylus' body responding eagerly to your touch. The motorcycle swerves slightly as Sylus struggles to maintain control, his hips rocking involuntarily into your stroking hand.

As he brings the motorcycle to a halt, you glance around, realizing that you're not parked outside his home. Instead, he's stopped in a secluded, isolated spot on the outskirts of the city. A single lamp post flickers weakly, casting a circle of light that illuminates the deserted parking lot. Beyond that, the only light comes from the pale glow of the moon

You're about to ask Sylus where he's brought you when you feel his hand closing around your wrist. In the dim light, you can see the intense, almost feral look in his eyes as he turns to face you.

"Sylus, where are we?" you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice. The air feels charged with tension, the night pressing in around you, isolating you from the rest of the world.

Sylus doesn't answer right away. Instead, he leans in close and he murmurs, "Somewhere private, where I can finish what you started without any interruptions."

You know you've pushed Sylus to the brink, teased him until he's teetering on the edge of control. And now, in this secluded spot, he's going to make you pay for it.

Sylus pulls back slightly, his hands moving to the straps of your helmet. With deft fingers, he unbuckles it and lifts it off your head, tossing it carelessly to the ground.

"Get off the bike, Y/N," Sylus commands, his voice a low, husky rumble that makes your toes curl in your boots. "Now."

You find yourself moving on autopilot, Sylus watches intently as you swing your leg over the bike seat, the moonlight casting a silver glow across your skin. The moment your feet touch the ground, he's off the motorcycle too, moving with a predatory grace that makes your heart race. He takes a step towards you, then another, until he's standing before you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

His hands come up to grip your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you against him. You can feel every hard plane and angle of his body, the evidence of his desire, an unmistakable bulge pressing against your belly.

"Did you think teasing me like that would go unpunished? I'm going to make you pay for every inch of skin you touched, for every moan I had to swallow as I tried to keep this bike on the road."

"I won't be able to eat your sweet little cunt like I want to while you sit on my bike, kitten. Not with my helmet on." His hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds his erection against you. "But don't worry, I'll leave that pleasure for another day. Tonight, I need to be inside you, now."

With that promise, Sylus spins you around and bends you over the motorcycle seat, your breasts pressing against the leather. He kicks your legs apart, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to grip your hips. Then he hikes up your skirt, exposing you to the cool night air.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, the fabric stretching taut for a moment before giving way. He drags them down slowly, the cool air kissing your heated skin as he bares you completely.

"Lift your feet," Sylus orders, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. You comply, lifting one foot and then the other, allowing him to remove your underwear entirely. He balls up the delicate lace, tucking them into his back pocket as a trophy of sorts.

With your most intimate place now exposed, Sylus leans down, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You can feel the thick, hard length of him pressing insistently against your ass. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for his touch, for the feel of him inside you.

He slides his bare cock against your folds, the thick head catching on your clit with each pass. Sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine, your back arching as you press back against him instinctively. The wet sound of his shaft gliding through your arousal fills the air, a melody that makes your toes curl.

"Fuck, you're so wet, kitten," he growls, his voice rough with lust. "So ready for my cock."

You can feel it in the desperate, erratic way he grinds against you, in the harsh, ragged sound of his breathing. It's a battle of wills, a contest to see who will break first. And as Sylus' cock catches on your clit once more, sending a bolt of electric pleasure rocketing through you, you know it won't be long before one of you snaps. The tension is unbearable, the need for release a physical ache that demands satisfaction.

"Fuck, Sylus!" you cry out, unable to hold back any longer. As you feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently at your entrance, you make your choice. Reaching back, you grab his hips and yank him forward, impaling yourself on his shaft with a desperate scream that echoes through the empty parking lot as Sylus' thick cock stretches your tight walls in one brutal, glorious thrust. The sudden intrusion is a shock of pain and pleasure, your body struggling to accommodate his girth.

"Oh god, you're so fucking big," you keen, your hips buck back against him, desperate for more, always craving that sweet spot where pleasure blurs with pain.

He doesn't give you time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace from the start. The motorcycle rocks beneath you with each powerful thrust, the metal creaking in protest at the force of Sylus' movements. You're pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but take his punishing thrusts as he fucks into you.

You're teetering on the brink, your body coiled tight and ready to shatter. The pleasure is cresting, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock as he drives into you with wild, desperate abandon. You're so close, your climax just within reach, when suddenly Sylus curses under his breath.

"Fuck!" he snarls, his voice rough and ragged. Before you can react, he's pulling out of you abruptly, the sudden emptiness a shock to your overstimulated body.

You cry out, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the motorcycle seat as you feel the cool night air hitting your swollen folds. "Fuck, Sylus!" you wail, your voice a mix of frustration and desperate need. "Don't stop now!"

He's panting harshly, his chest heaving as he fights for control.

"Dammit," he growls, "You feel too fucking good. I'm not going to last if you keep taking my cock like that"

You watch as Sylus sits back on the motorcycle seat, facing the back of his bike, his eyes shining with dark promise as he meets your pleading gaze. With a smirk, he pats his thighs invitingly.

"Climb up here, kitten," he commands "Fuck yourself on my cock until you scream. I want to watch you come apart on my dick.

He grips the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly as he waits for you to obey. The thick length is slick with your juices, the swollen head an angry red and leaking steadily. The sight makes your mouth water, your body screaming at you to take what you need.

You swing a leg over the motorcycle seat, straddling his hips, the thick ridge of his cock nestling against your dripping slit. With a shaky breath, you reach down and grasp his shaft, positioning him at your entrance. His hands find your hips, gripping them hard as he pulls you down. You sink onto his thick length with a low moan, your head falling back as he stretches you wide.

"Fuck, just like that," Sylus grunts, his fingers digging into your hips as he guides you into a steady rhythm.

You start to move, lifting yourself up until just the tip remains inside, before slamming back down. The helmet catches your gaze, the sleek black surface reflecting your flushed face and as you fuck yourself on his cock, you keep your eyes locked on the helmet, the fantasy you've imagined playing out before you.

As you feel your movements start to slow, your thighs trembling with exertion, Sylus takes control. He grips your wrists firmly, pushing your hands to the back of the motorcycle seat. "Hold on tight, sweetie," his voice a low, intense rumble. "Because I'm going to fuck you now."

Then, with a powerful thrust of his hips, he's slamming up into you, burying his cock deep inside you.

"Oh god!" you cry out, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the leather seat. The helmet blurs before your vision as Sylus pounds into you, the force of his thrusts rocking the motorcycle beneath you. He sets a brutal pace, each powerful drive of his hips forcing the air from your lungs in a sharp gasp. The we sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the night air, mingling with the creaking of the motorcycle and your wanton moans.

"Fuck," Sylus snarls, his breath coming in harsh pants fogging the inside of his helmet "You feel and look so fucking good. So perfect around my cock."

His hand tangles in your hair, gripping it tightly forcing you to maintain eye contact with him through the helmet as he fucks you.

Suddenly he changes the angle of his hips, tilting them up as he slams into you, the thick ridge of his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit with each thrust. Sparks of electric pleasure shoot through you, making your back arch and your toes curl.

"Oh fuck, Sylus!" you scream, "Right there! Don't stop!"

Your nails dig into the leather seat, gripping it for dear life as Sylus pounds into your g-spot. The pleasure is overwhelming, your body shaking and trembling with the force of your impending climax.

As the pleasure crests to an unbearable peak, you force your eyes open. Through the visor of his helmet, you meet Sylus' gaze, and what you see steals your breath away.

His crimson eyes are locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. In that moment, you see a man utterly consumed by desire, a man who would move heaven and earth to claim you, to possess you completely. It's a look of pure worship. A believer seeing his god, his reason for living. Sylus is lost in you, lost in the feel of your tight heat gripping his shaft, lost in the way your body responds so perfectly to his touch.

Your body seizes, your back arching as your orgasm crashes over you.

"Sylus!" you scream, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as your climax tears through you. Your walls spasm and clench around him as you come harder than you ever have before.

His eyes widen as he feels your walls clamp down around him, "Fuuuuuck!" Sylus screams, his voice echoing through the night as he erupts within you. His hot, thick seed floods your insides, painting your walls with his essence as he grinds against your cervix. You feel each twitch and throb of his cock as he empties himself inside you, your body shaking with the force of your mutual climax.

You both collapse against each other, chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Sylus' arms wrap around you, holding you close.

After a long moment, Sylus lifts his head, his crimson eyes finding yours through the visor once more. "Was that everything you imagined it would be, kitten?" Sylus asks, his voice a low, sensual purr. "Riding my cock on the back of my bike, fucking yourself stupid?" He reaches up, his finger tracing along your jawline before tilting your chin up "Because I can assure you that for me it was even better than I could have possibly imagined."

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound in his chest as he watches you laugh. He reaches up and unclasps his helmet, pulling it off to reveal his handsome face, flushed and gorgeous in the moonlight. Leaning in, you press a soft, quick kiss to his lips, savoring the taste of him.

"Let's go home Sy, I still have a few ideas"

Sylus grins as he pulls out of you and helps you off the bike, his hands lingering on your curves. "Next time you go to a bookstore make sure to pick out the nastiest, most depraved books you can find. Spare no expense, kitten. It's my treat."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his eyes glinting with mischief and dark promise. "I want to know all about the filthiest things you imagine us doing together, before acting them out in ways that will make those authors blush."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "And maybe, if you're a good girl, I'll even let you read them to me while I worship your body, Would you like that, baby?"

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, one eyebrow cocked expectantly as he waits for your laughter to fill the crisp night air once more. The way his eyes shine makes it clear that he's already imagining all the deliciously depraved things he wants to do to you, inspired by the pages of those naughty books.

[fawnnlvr]

model | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x model!reader

masterlist

author's note: small small 1k words drabble that has been on my mind for a long time and i feel like it should he shared with the world. inspired by the middle photo because it genuinely haunts me in my dreams in a good way.

"Come on pretty boy, smile for me." you softly spoke as you stared down at your boyfriend, a camera right beside your face as your finger hovered over the top button.

Spencer's hands rested on your hips as they steadied your stance. He sat on the couch as you straddled him, legs on either side of his body, locking him in place.

He would be lying if he said it was a wonder how he got in that position, but due to his memory, he remembered it clearly. His curious nature of needing to know everything had gotten him in that position, forcefully might he add.

Being the partner of a model, he should have expected that you would own a variety of cameras to capture your beauty. He innocently picked one up and started to snap a few candid photos as you and him went on a book date. The two of you messed around with the camera, snapping photos of each other in silly poses. One thing had led to another and Spencer found himself under your powerful, sultry gaze.

"You can't force me to model for you." he laughed, thinking this entire idea of you photographing him like he was a model to be absurd.

"You, my pretty boy, are a model in my eyes and I want to capture you with my lens."

"This was supposed to be your photoshoot." this entire thing began simply because he liked taking photos of you— to preserve all the moments he had with you. He isn't the type have his photos taken and he was fine with that idea because in his eyes, you are the star— his star.

"I'm a model. I've had many photoshoots in my lifetime so now its time for the student to become the master."

"That isn't how the saying goes nor is this the right context—" he was silenced by your manicured finger finding its way to his lips, successfully shutting it.

You moved the camera from your face to look at him, "Come on. No one will see these photos, but us." he still looked a little reluctant so you sighed and moved closer, your lips to his ear, "We can take a little more private photos if you want to later. A little boudoir—"

His breathing became uneven as you felt him swallow. His grip became slightly more stronger on his hips as he stared up at you, the pupils of his eyes increasing.

"Just for you." you used a free hand to caress his jaw. Just for him. Only for his eyes to see.

"S-so, what's the theme for this photoshoot?"

"A handsome man who loves his girlfriend?" you tilted your head as you suggested a theme that barely needed any acting and just his face.

"Very doable."

"Great. This camera is a sort of one and done so we need to be very selective on the positions." your hand stayed on his jaw, a thumb to his cheek as you tilted his head to be in the perfect position for the camera to catch him from above.

Spencer leaned into your warm touch, "I feel nervous looking into the camera."

"Look at me then," he stared at you through his eyelashes as he leaned his head into the palm of your hand, "there we go."

He looked like a lovesick puppy from that position. Staring up at you from behind the camera with these cloudy dazed eyes. Looking at you as if you were his world and he couldn't believe you were his and he was yours.

Snap!

The polaroid made noise as the mechanical engineering inside of it had colorized and printed the photo. A few seconds later and the photo was already rising from the top.

Spencer raised his hand and placed it on top of yours that rested on his face. Using his free hand, he grabbed the photo from the camera and placed it off to the side to complete.

"That will be mine. We can take two." you told him, already cheesing at the sight in front of you as well as unsure how you would be able to handle your hot boyfriend in this position forever preserved in a photo.

"Same position?" Spencer asked as the camera was already in place to snap another photo.

"You have more artistic direction. Whatever suits your boat."

"It's float your boat, but I do have a small idea." He used a hand to guide yours from the higher side of his face to the lower. Your thumb slid from his cheek to his soft lips, tracing the small traces of your lipgloss. His lips slightly parted and his hand that was one yours had let go before it found its place on your waist.

Your felt your thumb slowly go further in and Spencer kept eye contact as he brought his lips into a circle to slowly suck the tip of your thumb. Tilting his head just slightly up, you swore you saw an angel.

An unsteady breath escaped your mouth as you felt your stomach tense, "I feel like I should pray to the heavens for blessing me with this sight."

Spencer tried to suppress his smile for the sake of the photo, but it was obvious in the ways his eyes crinkled and the way he was staring into the camera lens as if he was staring into your soul.

You hurried to snap the photo, afraid that a moment like this could slip away and you wouldn't be able to remember the full details or relive it to its fullest. As soon as the camera finished capturing the scene, you gently placed it down on the table beside the ends of your couch before pulling Spencer in for a kiss.

Hands in his hair, softly tugging it and pulling him closer, letting your lipstick paint his lips, nose, cheeks and all over his face.

It was going to be a long night.

[a-d-nox]

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5h aries (1°, 13°, 25°), 5h mars, and/or 5h ruler aspecting mars

how to have more fun

say "yes": try new high-energy activities like rock climbing, dancing, rollerblading, spontaneous road trips, etc.

turn play into a lifestyle: treat everyday like an adventure. be confident, compete with others but more importantly yourself, and add excitement to even mundane moments (become a kid again).

be bold: start conversations with strangers, take the lead in group activities (become the one that reaches out), and embrace being the "funnest" (i know - stop lol) person in the room.

challenge yourself physically: competitive sports (idk why i think of frisbee haha), dance classes, and/or martial arts.

hobbies to explore

dancing, performing, or acting: think more of the bodily side fine arts.

competitive activities: martial arts, racing, and/or even something like competitive gaming - anything that gets your adrenaline going.

dating advice

be direct about what you want: own your desires and go after what excites you.

keep dates passionate & active: ideal dates include hiking, mini golf, dance class, karaoke, go-karting, etc.

flirt with confidence & boldness: your magnetism will increase when you’re direct, playful, and a little daring in your approach to romance/dating.

stick to people who can match your energy: you thrive in relationships that feel exciting, engaging, and full of passion - so avoid partners who dull your fire.

how to feel more alive

move with power & purpose: walk like you own the room, stand tall, take up space, and radiate confidence.

work on physical strength & stamina: you naturally feel more confident when you’re physically strong and active, so strength training or intense cardio can be empowering.

nominate yourself: whether it's work, hobbies, and/or social settings, take initiative and showcase your natural ability to lead.

5h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°), 5h moon, and/or 5h ruler aspecting moon

how to have more fun

lean into mood-based activities: your idea of fun shifts with your emotions, so create a "dopamine menu" or another popular trend from a few years ago "fresh and fried" lists.

revisit childhood fun: think roller skating, painting, playing in the rain, watching nostalgic movies, etc.

surround yourself with emotionally safe people: spend time with people who bring comfort.

express yourself through movement: dancing, swimming, scenic walk, etc anything like that can help you release emotional energy and feel more in tune with yourself.

hobbies to explore

journaling & poetry: writing can be a powerful way to process emotions and tell personal stories.

music & singing: whether you play an instrument, sing, or just make playlists, music likely helps you channel emotions into something beautiful.

photography: capturing moments and memories is deeply satisfying with this placement - i suggest trying both journaling alongside photography.

cooking/baking: comfort foods and nostalgic recipes can be a really nurturing activity.

dreamwork & the intuitive: exploring tarot, astrology, or even dream journaling can be both a creative and introspective outlet.

dating advice

emotional connection is everything: you crave romance that feels safe, warm, and emotionally fulfilling, rather than surface-level flings.

create sentimentality: handwritten notes, visiting nostalgic places, or sharing personal stories deepen your emotional connection.

trust your intuition in dating: your instincts about people are strong. if something feels off, trust that feeling instead of ignoring red flags.

vulnerability = magnetism: your emotional depth makes you incredibly attractive. let your authentic emotions shine - the right people will be drawn to that.

how to feel more alive

honor your feelings without shame: your emotions are a strength, not a weakness. let yourself fully feel and express them.

nurture yourself as much as you nurture others: set aside time for self-care, quiet time (maybe a phone-free/social-media-free day), and emotional reflection to avoid burnout.

5h libra (7°, 19°), 5h venus, and/or 5h ruler aspecting venus

how to have more fun

make everyday beautiful / romanize your life: whether it’s decorating your space, curating an elegant wardrobe, aesthetic mood boards, etc.

host: libras thrive in social settings. organize brunches, dinner parties, and/or meetups with friends. elegant and intimate gatherings will bring you joy.

explore arts & culture: museums, art galleries, fashion shows, music performances, and ballet - engage in experiences that inspire and bring refinement to your life.

hobbies to explore

creative arts & aesthetics: painting, fashion design, makeup artistry, photography, or floral arranging - anything that allows you to express beauty and elegance.

music & dance: playing an instrument, singing, or learning ballroom dance (like waltz or salsa) would suit your refined yet romantic style.

writing & poetry: try journaling, writing poetry, or even starting a blog on art, beauty, or relationships.

social hobbies: think debate clubs, book clubs, or event planning.

dating advice

embodying romantic aura: enhance your charm, elegance, and grace by practicing good etiquette, speaking with warmth, and presenting yourself stylishly.

go on classic: think candlelit dinners, rooftop cocktails, picnics in beautiful gardens, and/or elegant cultural events.

seek intellectual & social chemistry: you likely value wit, charm, and deep conversations in romance. engage in flirty, lighthearted debates or discuss topics like art, philosophy, or relationships.

keep things playful: avoid drama-heavy relationships. you thrive when there’s balance, mutual respect, and emotional connection.

how to feel more alive

develop grace & poise: work on posture, speech, and movement to exude elegance. practicing dance, yoga, or even etiquette can help refine your presence.

surround yourself with positive & balanced energy: create an environment that feels peaceful/harmonious to keep your energy elevated.

embrace love & other connections: love comes in all forms - romantic, platonic, and self-love - and is key to your glow-up. strengthen your relationships, practice gratitude, and express love freely.

5h aquarius (12°, 24°), 5h uranus, and/or 5h ruler aspecting uranus

how to have more fun

seek freedom & adventure: embrace spontaneous adventures that push the boundaries of your typical fun. travel to unexpected places, or attend some quirky events that peaks your interest.

bring the unexpected into your routine: spontaneous outings, surprise visits to cool/unique spots, etc.

experiment with new idea: stay ahead of the curve - discover things that excite you. it can be a new tech gadget, a trendy hobby, or an obscure interest.

hobbies to explore

innovative creative projects: digital art, tech crafts, photography, and/or abstract painting. anything that lets you express your individuality through creativity.

learn new skills: consider picking up something new and future-oriented like coding, 3D printing, or DIY electronics. or dive into areas that expand your mind like philosophy, social justice, or science.

join group creative projects: group art projects, a shared writing effort, or even a community garden or online brainstorming team.

dating advice

be playful and independent: keep your relationships light, fun, and full of playful energy. don’t take things too seriously and allow yourself to explore a connection without pressure.

explore unconventional dating: aquarius is all about breaking tradition, so embrace non-traditional dating experiences. try online dating apps, long-distance relationships, or date someone who challenges your usual norms.

flirt and have fun: focus on intellectual connection and conversation. you might attract someone who shares your interests. don’t be afraid to be bold and spontaneous in the early stages of romance.

how to feel more alive

embrace your uniqueness: authenticity is your strength. step into your individuality and express yourself boldly whether its through fashion, music, or the way you speak. embrace being “different” and make it your superpower.

create your own style: experiment with bold, eccentric outfits/accessories. let your personal style reflect your unique energy and embrace things that make you feel confident and vibrant.

engage with intellectual curiosity: dive deep into learning something new, like exploring new philosophies, technology, or even new languages. intellectual stimulation feeds your mind and brings vibrancy to your life.

connect with like-minded people: surround yourself with people who share your enthusiasm for freedom, creativity, and innovation. the more you connect with your people, the more vibrant and energized you’ll feel.

5h ruler in the 5h

how to have more fun

embrace playfulness: don’t wait for a special occasion to have fun. add music, dance, laughter, and spontaneity into your routine.

be the main character: you naturally shine when you fully express yourself. dress boldly, speak with confidence, and let your personality take up space.

say "yes": whether it’s a concert, a themed party, or a spontaneous road trip, push yourself to be more open to opportunities.

try performance-based activities: think acting, dancing, stand-up comedy, or karaoke - anything that lets you step into a creative role.

hobbies to explore

dramatic & bold fine arts: theater, dance, spoken word poetry, and/or performance-based hobbies can help you channel your natural charisma and stage presence.

painting & fashion design: anything visually expressive, like creating your own signature wardrobe (building capsule wardrobes, pinterest look boards, etc), photoshoots, or experimenting with colors and textures (look into color theory).

creative writing & storytelling: whether it’s screenwriting, blogging, etc, you have a talent for bringing characters and ideas to life.

competitive or high-energy hobbies: sports, gaming, or activities where you can showcase your skills and win (it doesn't have to be atheism it could be chess, trivia nights, dance parties, etc).

dating advice

step into your aura: naturally you exude confidence, charm, and excitement, so own your attractiveness and let your bold, playful side shine.

go on adventurous/fun dates: think carnivals, amusement parks, live shows, and/or dance clubs rather than the M.O. of dinner-and-a-movie. you thrive in high-energy, engaging experiences.

flirt with confidence & playfulness: your best approach to romance is to be lighthearted, flirty, and fun. keep things exciting and lean into spontaneity.

how to feel more alive

move your body more: dance, yoga, and/or even just walking makes you feel energetic, present, and alive.

passion & enthusiasm: when you talk about what excites you, your energy becomes infectious - so share your passions openly.

embody ‘i am a star’ / pearl mindset: act like someone who naturally attracts good things.

5h ruler in the 8h

how to have more fun

explore the hidden & mysterious: visiting historical sites, ghost tours, or underground music scenes could be your idea of fun and you just don't know it yet.

engage in transformational activities: try breathwork, shadow work, energy healing, or meditation to explore the mind-body connection and heighten your emotional awareness.

challenge yourself with risk & thrill: activities that test your limits can excite you, like escape rooms, suspenseful movies, or adrenaline sports (rock climbing, scuba diving, skydiving, etc).

hobbies to explore

dark & intense creative arts: express yourself through photography, poetry, sculpting, or painting with a psychological or surreal edge.

mystical & esoteric studies: astrology, tarot, numerology, and mythology (plug moment - you have reach the right blog) can provide an intellectual yet mystical way to channel/inspire your creative energy.

psychological & investigative interests: you may be drawn to forensic psychology, true crime, conspiracy theories, etc.

dating advice

magnetic & intense connections: you attract soul-stirring, transformative relationships rather than surface-level flings. allow yourself to explore deep emotional intimacy while maintaining your sense of self.

mystery & power: a little mystery makes you irresistible. don’t reveal everything at once - let people peel back layers of your personality over time.

go on intimate, meaningful dates: choose dark-lit restaurants, clubs, poetry readings, or intimate, intense experiences over casual outings.

develop emotional & sexual confidence: tap into your sensuality, emotional intelligence, and your ability to create deep bonds.

how to feel more alive

own your power: stop downplaying your intensity. lean into your alluring, transformative, and enigmatic energy - it’s what makes you magnetic.

build inner strength: work on emotional resilience and "unpack baggage" that can hold you back from fully embracing joy and romance.

surround yourself with meaningful, deep relationships: let go of shallow connections and nurture bonds that challenge and transform you in the best way possible.

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[beegomess]

You Haven’t Seen My Man || Kendall Roy

Summary: Being Kendall Roy's wife involves giving up some things. However, working with you involves understanding that sometimes you may end up drawing more attention than he would like. But this is not really a problem for someone who loves to prove to be powerful all the time. Warnings: Cute, spicy with hints of implicit control - Word count: 8.3k

You were married now, but the story that united you was far from conventional or romantic. His brother and Kendall met in a rehabilitation clinic, sharing not only the fight against addiction, but also the weight of being heirs always pressured to prove their worth. The friendship between them was natural, and you, as a frequent visitor, became part of that bond. At the time, she hid that she worked as a legal advisor at Waystar, aware that the connection with the Roys could complicate things.

When both were discharged, you organized a celebration. It was that night that you and Kendall began to get closer. What seemed like an unpretentious friendship evolved into something more. You have become colleagues, friends and, finally, boyfriends. They were difficult years, marked by relapses of both and by Kendall's constant effort to get back up. Despite this, you remained together, supporting each other.

But the night Kendall asked you to marry him brought a devastating turn. You left dinner overflowing with joy to tell your brother the news, but you found him unconscious in your apartment. The overdose was fatal. What should be a new beginning also became the end of an important part of his life.

The devastating loss increased the pressure of your father, who wanted you to take on the role of CEO of the family business, something you always avoided. He also showed support for his marriage to Kendall, but his real intentions involved uniting families to strengthen his power, which filled her with revolt. Since then, you have kept your distance from your family, although his pressure has never ceased.

Kendall remained by your side, putting her own pain aside to help you get through the grief. Although the loss has never been completely overcome, it has become more bearable in the company of someone who understood the weight of carrying difficult memories.

When they got married, the lives of both fit in a surprisingly quiet way, considering the chaos that surrounded them. You chose to stay out of the power dispute at Waystar, which helped maintain the balance between work and marriage. Still, working under the same roof, with Kendall technically as his boss, brought challenges. Some tensions inevitably overflowed to domestic life, but you learned how to deal with it.

That morning was a perfect example of the controlled chaos that you and Kendall had learned to master. Since Logan's death, Waystar had become an arena of constantly burning egos, with Kendall, Shiv and Roman competing to make decisions while sewing the deal with Lukas Matsson. For you, the frenetic pace was nothing new. But that day, it seemed that everything was amplified.

Kendall had left early, leaving you with some precious minutes in bed that, although comforting, ended up devoured by the avalanche of messages and notifications on her cell phone. When he arrived at the office, he was already one step behind, and this did not go unnoticed. He didn't even have time to spend in Roman's room, where he and Lukas were gathered. Not that you wanted to get more involved than necessary - your role there was more strategic, and you knew exactly when to withdraw and when to act.

While packing the pile of papers I would need to discuss with Kendall, the phone on his desk vibrated. It was a message from him with a typical urgency. You sighed, already gathering what you needed, while answering a call from an external lawyer who seemed unable to understand something simple.

The heels of your shoes hit rhythmically against the carpet as you crossed the corridor. The sound echoed in the open spaces of the floor, a clear sign of his haste. In that environment, everyone seemed to be always watching each other, like animals in a corporate zoo.

When passing through Roman's room, he noticed Lukas gesturing at a glance, but did not pay attention. It was no news that he was there. Inside, Lukas interrupted the sentence itself when you passed, his eyes fixed on you long enough for Roman to notice.

- When I buy all this shit, will I have assistants like her? - Lukas shot, a cheeky smile curling his lips as his gaze lingered in the direction where you had just disappeared. The malicious insinuation was clear in every word.

Roman swallowed dryly, the discomfort evident in his expression. I knew Lukas well enough to know that giving any information would only increase his interest. But I couldn't just ignore it either. He needed to stop talking.

- Man, trust me, you wouldn't handle her. - Roman said, launching his typical mixture of humor and sarcasm. - She sees beyond the walls. You probably already know what you think before you open your mouth. It's fucking scary.

Lukas let out a short laugh, but Roman's comment didn't totally disarm him. His thoughts were still stuck in the image of you crossing the office, his hips moving with a grace that seemed almost calculated.

He knew he shouldn't be distracted, not at that moment, but something in you bothered him. It wasn't just the appearance - it was the aura of control, of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

As Lukas turned his attention to the meeting, the malicious smile did not completely disappear. Maybe it was an exaggeration, maybe he was just bored. Or maybe there was something in you that challenged you, without you even knowing it.

You, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to any look that could be cast in your direction. Your mind was too busy with professional issues, and on the personal side, Kendall, although consumed by the obsession with being a CEO, found ways to devote to you all the attention she needed - and sometimes even a little more. He knew how to balance the two worlds when necessary, a trait that you secretly admired in him.

That same day, something not so unusual was about to happen. At work, you always maintained an impeccable posture. Seriousness and professionalism were practically their business cards. You knew the dangers of giving room to gossip or distractions in the corporate environment. But no matter how much I tried to keep things strictly professional, sometimes it was impossible to ignore the magnetic tension between the two of you. He had a unique talent for making you lower your guard, especially when Waystar's building was almost empty.

The day was exhausting and long, a whirlwind of words and numbers that seemed to dance in front of you from the moment you passed by Waystar's concierge. Now, with the floor almost empty and the sky outside dipped in darkness, you and Kendall were sitting side by side on the couch in your living room, trying to decipher the last barrier of a problematic contract.

Kendall's suit had already been abandoned hours ago, and the sleeves of his dress shirt were folded up to the forearms. He was more comfortable. You had also abandoned any formality: the heels were dropped near the sofa, the blazer had disappeared at some point in the day, and you now settled with your legs bent under you, in an almost intimate position, reflecting the tiredness and comfort you felt next to him.

The silence in the room was broken only by the sound of fingers occasionally typing on the notebook keyboard and exhausted sighs. It was Kendall who broke the cycle, rubbing her face with her hands and leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh, the frustration evident.

You observed the movement, the way he seemed more vulnerable at that moment, and made the decision to end the torture that you yourselves were imposing. With a decisive gesture, you closed the two notebooks in front of you and organized the papers in an improvised pile.

- I think we've done enough for today. - His voice was low, but he had a quiet determination that he didn't dispute.

When you leaned over to reach the table, your skirt went up a few centimeters more, exposing parts of your skin. Despite the evident tiredness, Kendall's gaze automatically slid to you, a spark of interest lighting up in your eyes. He didn't say anything, but the smile that began to play on his lips delivered him.

You leaned back on the couch again, but this time, instinctively, closer to him. His hand went up to the back of Kendall's neck, his fingers tracing small circles on the tense skin, an affectionate and intimate gesture that always made him relax.

- Do we really have to go to his country house this week? - You asked, your voice low and almost resigned, as if you expected him to change something. - Can't Matsson be normal and just do a video conference?

Kendall opened her eyes, turning her face slightly in your direction.

- Do you need a vacation? Because that would be a bad moment. - The provocation came with a tired but sincere smile.

- Well, you couldn't stop me anyway. - You answered in the same tone, a playful smile illuminating your face.

Kendall tilted her head, the expression slightly challenging as she rested her hands on her legs, gently pulling them to be on top of his.

- You know I'm still your boss, don't you? - His provocation was accompanied by a light touch on his knees, his fingers slowly rising up the curve of his thighs, like someone testing the limits.

- Nothing like a good judicial process to put things in perspective. - You replied with a defiant smile.

He let out a low and incredulous laugh, his eyes shining with amusement.

- Are you threatening me? Because, just for the record, my legal group is the best in the country.

You couldn't contain the loud laugh that escaped, the sound echoing through the silent room. Kendall leaned over, his smile growing when he saw his fun.

- What? Do you think I'm kidding? - He continued, still smiling, but now his hands were firmly anchored to your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't notice the exact moment when you ended up completely on his lap, but there was, sitting on your legs, the heat of the bodies of you two filling the small space between you.

- You definitely wouldn't want to face me in a court, Ken. - You murmured, the lowest voice now, but still provocative, while your arms wrapped around his neck.

His hands tightened slightly on his waist, as if they wanted to record the moment in his memory. He tilted his head, his eyes sliding from his lips to the neckline of his blouse, which was now slightly more open because of the position.

You didn't have time to say anything else before he tilted his face and his lips finally met. The kiss started slowly, almost exploratory, but quickly became more intense. His hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, feeling his breathing accelerated as he deepened the kiss.

Some fingers slowly rose under your skirt, dragging the fabric with them, while Kendall pulled you even closer, gluing her hips to his. The movement was deliberate, provocative, and when he pressed you against you, you felt exactly what he wanted you to feel.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, your fingers sliding down the open collar until you met the heat of the exposed skin, at the same time, his hands went up more, exploring his thighs without any hurry, but with a firmness that made it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. When the lips parted, it was only for him to go down his jaw and reach his neck, where he began to distribute hot and possessive kisses.

You let out a trembling sigh when he found a sensitive spot near your collarbone. He noticed and lightly bit the area, a satisfied smile forming against his skin when he heard the sound that escaped from his lips.

- You have no idea how much I have to hold back when you wear this fucking skirt. - He whispered against her neck, his warm breath making his skin shiver.

You arched your body, tilting your head to give him more access, while he continued the path over your shoulders, his lips alternating between kisses and soft bites that made you lose control. Unhurriedly, Kendall slid her fingers through the fabric of her blouse, moving it away just enough to expose more of her skin.

- Much better this way. - He murmured against his collarbone, the hot breath making his skin even more sensitive. His hands returned to your waist, pulling you again against him while your lips explored the new piece of exposed skin.

You tried to answer, but your mind was a blur. His every touch seemed to set you on fire, and when he pressed his lips lower, near the beginning of your bra, you couldn't hold a louder sigh.

That's when a noise in the distance interrupted the moment. A low sound, maybe the creaking of a door or quick steps, made you freeze for an instant. Kendall, however, seemed to ignore it completely.

- Ken... - you call, between sighs, your eyes opening more attentively while trying to regain focus. He ignored it, thinking it was just one more of those delicious moans you let out when muttering his name. But your voice became more serious when you pushed his face away, still panting. - Ken, I think there's someone here.

He frowned, reluctantly, his lips still close to his neck while grumbling:

- So what?

You moved away a little, already restless, standing, your eyes trying to cross the darkness of the office beyond the glass walls. Kendall sighed, clearly upset, and accompanied you. He stopped right behind you, his hands automatically returning to your waist as he glued his body to yours, as if the situation were a mere detail that did not require any attention.

- There's no one here, dear. - He murmured in her ear, pressing his lips back on the curve of his neck, ignoring any sound or shadow that might exist.

You closed your eyes for a moment, almost giving in again to the warmth of his hands on your waist and brushing your lips that seemed to want to erase any remnant of your concern. But then the sound came back: something soft, like a hurried movement or the creak of a door in the distance.

- Ken, seriously. - You turned around, putting your hands on his chest, trying to stay firm. - Shall we go home?

He furrowed his eyebrows quickly, his lips curved in a carefree smile that only made it clear how much he thought you were exaggerating.

- Are you really getting me out of here? - he asked, tilting his head while looking at you as if it were a crime to leave things incomplete.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head, but before you could answer, he pulled you by the neck for a kiss, one of those that disarmed any argument. The plan of a quick kiss to convince him was completely lost when he deepened the movement, his hands firm on his waist as he pressed you against his body, with an accuracy that made you forget why they were still there.

Finally, he walked away, the satisfied smile still stamped on his face, and murmured:

- Let's go soon. - He took the suit thrown on the couch with the same energy as someone who wanted to shorten the waiting time, wearing it anyway.

You took the opportunity to take your bag, put on your shoes and turn off the lights. While the door closed behind you and you walked to the elevator, Kendall didn't waste time: a hand slid firmly to his ass, squeezing lightly while he commented something provocative with a cheeky smile.

The way back home seemed longer than usual, every second an agony. His fingers slowly went up his thigh, deliberate, squeezing and sliding, as if he wanted to test his limits.

As soon as the elevator of the building where you lived arrived, the silence between you seemed electric, the air loaded with tension. As soon as the door opened directly to the apartment, Kendall was already pulling you by the waist, closing the space between you as if there was no more time to waste. He pressed you against the wall next to the entrance, his hungry lips on yours, and you responded with equal intensity, your hands grabbing his hair, pulling him closer.

The corridor became a blur as he guided you inside, the two bumping into furniture as if every second mattered. When they got to the kitchen, Kendall didn't hesitate.

- Is this good for you? - He murmured, his voice loaded with sarcasm and desire, his chest pressed against his back, while sliding his hands down his thighs, raising his skirt without ceremony.

You couldn't answer, already completely surrendered to the firm and urgent touches. The kitchen, with its cold tones and the soft street lighting that entered through the windows, became the perfect setting for the outcome of the desire that began in the office.

__________________________

The days before the trip were intense and so full of commitments that time seemed to escape through your fingers. Kendall, you, Roman and Shiv were at a frantic pace, adjusting the last details of the proposal for Matsson during the flight. The atmosphere between you was focused, but Roman's constant interruptions with his jokes did not let the environment become completely wise.

The flight was long and silent. While most of you were immersed in papers or napping, there was a feeling of shared restlessness. You noticed this in Kendall, who drummed her fingers on the arm of the armchair.

When they landed at the small airport, the atmosphere of the destination welcomed them with a humid and cloudy cold. The surrounding mountains seemed to be covered by a thin fog, and the icy wind carried raindrops. Roman, when putting his feet on the ground, looked at the cars waiting for you and, as expected, made a comment:

- Oh, perfect. Who needs a helicopter when you can take an endless trip by car.

During the journey through the winding roads that crossed the mountainous region, the silence in the car was interrupted only by the sound of the windshield wiper fighting against the persistent drops.

When they finally arrived at the place, an imposing and modernist construction emerged in the melancholic landscape. It was isolated, surrounded by tall trees and surrounded by low clouds. Despite the discomfort caused by the cold and rain, the minimalist architecture seemed even more impactful in the scenery.

You and Kendall went out side by side, the body expression of both was neutral, maintaining professionalism. The tense atmosphere of the negotiation seemed combined with the gloomy atmosphere of the place.

Lukas was waiting under the entrance cover. Dressed casually, he seemed completely at ease, as if the hostile weather was just another characteristic of his nature. His eyes soon fell on you, analyzing every detail in a long and not at all subtle way. A brief smile appeared on the corner of his lips, something between interest and curiosity.

He approached to greet the group, extending his hand to Kendall first. Then, his eyes turned to you, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to evaluate who you were.

Kendall returned the greeting impassively, and you just kept the same professional countenance, corresponding to the handshake that Lukas offered. Despite not showing any visible reaction, you noticed his insistent gaze on you, as if you were trying to decipher your presence there.

His first impressions of that place ranging from something almost picturesque, ideal for relaxing, to a slasher movie setting. Dense trees surrounded the complex, its branches writhing as if whispering secrets. And the accommodations... Well, these brought a new meaning to "forced intimacy".

The rooms were small, surrounded by glass walls that led to the treetops - and to the rooms of others. There were no curtains, just a dubious concept of "integration with nature". Privacy seemed like a joke.

- What the fuck is this? - you let go, dropping your suitcase in a corner with a slack of disdain. - They put us in a matchbox with transparent walls.

Kendall, already taking off her coat, laughed low and shook her head.

- This guy is too weird to choose this damn place. - But the irritation on his face was obvious. He hated places that escaped the standard of impeccable luxury.

While you were removing your heavy coat, Kendall answered a call from Roman. He left his cell phone on the speakerphone on the table, and his brother's debauched voice took over the environment.

- Damn, are these rooms a social experiment? - Roman began, already with that tone loaded with sarcasm. - Who was the genius who decided: 'Hey, do you know what's going to be great? Glass walls among dysfunctional adults!'.

You suppressed a laugh while Roman continued:

- By the way, you can see you here. Yes, literally. So, please, do me a fucking favor and save the couple's little show for later. Seriously, whatever you do in that bed - I don't know, bite, moan, scream - I don't need a VIP window to watch. My trauma quota is already broken.

- Why don't you just look away? - Kendall replied, frowning, but unable to hide a smile.

- Oh, great plan, Ken! I'll just turn my head and ignore the erotic theater that you two may or may not decide to stage. Like, of course, super simple. It's like asking not to look at a car disaster.

Kendall just hung up with a sigh.

- He never shuts up, does he?

- It's a talent. - You laughed, dropping your coat on the couch and going towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was even tighter. You sighed when you entered, since it wasn't exactly the standard of comfort you were used to. His apartment in New York was practically a sanctuary, where not even a drone would be able to snoop.

The hot water ran down his skin, but there was no way to relax completely. Everything in that place seemed... exposed, at the same time as tiny. When you left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, you found Kendall sitting on the bed, fiddling with your cell phone with a restained expression of frustration.

- What's wrong? - you asked as you went to your suitcase, taking the clothes you would wear during dinner.

Kendall dropped her cell phone on the bed and rubbed her eyes with her hands, the gesture of someone on the verge of exploding with their own thoughts.

- Nothing, just rereading some things. - He replied, looking up at you. The smile that emerged was subtle, but carried a malicious trace.

- What kind of "things"? - you asked, pulling a black wool blouse out of the suitcase.

He tilted his head, his eyes walking through you while you chose a heavy coat to complete the look.

- The kind that makes me think that we could pretend we got lost in this shitty place and skip this dinner.

You laughed, shaking your head while wearing your underwear, still feeling the remnant of lightness of the moment they shared. However, as soon as you and Kendall left the room and reached the main corridor, the atmosphere changed. Near the entrance of the hall, they found Shiv and Roman, and the air already seemed loaded with tension. As expected, Roman did not miss the opportunity to break the atmosphere with one of his jokes, full of irony.

- Look, the couple of the moment. - He said, with a crooked smile. - I bet dinner will be the preliminaries for what comes next.

You didn't stop, you just kept walking, your cutting tone escaping naturally.

- Roman, you're talking so much about it that I'm starting to think you're waiting for us to make love in front of you or something like that.

Roman went from surprised to angry, and you could hear the frustration in his voice.

- Fuck you.

You launched a victorious smile, without even looking back. You positioned yourself next to Shiv, following next to her to the table where they would sit while you listened to her tell you about the discoveries about Matsson.

The rhythmic sound of your heels and those of Shiv echoed through the hall as you walked towards the designated table. To the corner of your eye, you noticed Gerri and Carl sitting further down, engaged in a conversation that seemed casual. Gerri threw a polite smile in your direction, and you reciprocated, without thinking too much, before continuing to walk next to Shiv.

However, as soon as you passed, Carl leaned slightly towards Gerri, the unmistakable provocative tone.

- Still trying to make friends, huh?

Gerri kept the smile on his face, but the sarcasm in his voice was cutting.

- I still can't believe this bitch got so much power just by fucking one of Logan's children.

Carl gave a muffled laugh, his gaze dancing between Gerri and his figure, now on his way to the table.

- Well, it's not like you haven't tried something similar either, right?

Gerri sighed deeply, as if the conversation was more exhausting than necessary.

- Fuck you, Carl.

You, oblivious to the poison exchanged behind you, went to the table with Shiv, focused only on the dinner you were about to start.

Dinner was a mixture of forced formality and disguised tensions. The expensive dishes were served in silence interrupted only by the strategic conversations between the sides of Waystar and GoJo. You were calm, oblivious to any subtext that surrounded the table. He answered Matsson's questions succinctly when he tried to involve you in discussions about his area of expertise, remaining strictly professional. His clear and objective answers left little room for any other interpretation.

On the other side of the table, Roman watched everything with the usual restless attention. It didn't take long for him to realize that Matsson's eyes wandered to you more often than necessary. It was subtle, but it was there - the look that lasted a little longer when you spoke, the pause before he returned to paying attention to what Kendall or Shiv were saying.

He spent dinner rolling his eyes at himself. "Really, Lukas? Do you want to fuck her now? At a dinner? With Kendall right there?" He thought, trying to decide whether to intervene with some comment or just let the show roll. In the end, he remained silent, but the tension did not go unnoticed.

Dinner was over, and conversations flowed in small groups scattered around the hall. You ended up cornered by Greg, who, with his innate ability to turn any topic into an endless monologue, was talking about something that involved compliance systems and a documentary that no one else seemed to have heard of. You nodded from time to time, let out a "Is it really?", while thinking about how to get out of there.

Finally, you asked for permission, a polite smile on your lips, but in a hurry enough not to give him room to insist. The cold air outside was an immediate relief, and you pulled your coat closer, taking the silver cigarette wallet out of your pocket. The sound of the lighter breaking the silence was almost comforting as the smoke spread around him.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't hear the steps approaching until a low voice full of irony sounded behind you.

- Do you mind offering me one of these?

You turned around slightly, finding Lukas Matsson standing there, the smile half crooked on his face, the expression too casual to be innocent.

- Of course. - You answered, handing him the wallet and the lighter. He took a cigarette, lit it calmly, and the flame of the lighter briefly lit up his face before he released the first long puff.

For a few seconds, silence reigned, only the sound of the embers burning filling the space. So, he broke the moment:

- So, what's your story? Did they throw you into this last-minute deal or was it just a strategic move that no one noticed?

You let out a low laugh, bringing it again while answering:

- I don't think your team did homework as well as you think. - There was an ironic tone in his voice, but nothing exaggerated. - I've always been involved. I only prefer to avoid the spotlight when I can.

Matsson gave a short laugh, leaning more relaxed against the wall, but his eyes never left you.

- You know, that's funny. - he said, releasing another drag. - It seems that the more time I spend with you, from Waystar, the more I wonder how Logan kept this shit all together.

You kept a polite smile, but you didn't get more involved than necessary.

- He knew exactly how to deal with each piece on the board.

He arched an eyebrow, interested.

- And you? Is it just another piece... or is it the one who moves the others?

His words came loaded with a subtext that you preferred to ignore. Your smile didn't falter while you put out the cigarette on the stone guardrail in front of you.

- I'm more for someone who guarantees that the board remains whole.

Matsson laughed softly, shaking his head.

- Between us, if Kendall had introduced me to you before, I would have signed any contract he asked for.

You stopped in the middle of the gesture of putting out the cigarette, crossing your arms instinctively. The short laugh that escaped was dry, almost sharp.

- This is somewhat inappropriate, considering the context.

Matsson tilted his head, a smile that was half fun, half provocation forming on his lips.

- Don't worry, it just makes everything more... interesting.

The comment made something turn in your stomach. His disconnection from the seriousness of the situation was as absurd as it was annoying. For him, it seemed like a game, a casual provocation, but you felt the weight of the inadequacy. Taking a step back, you adjusted your coat with calculated calm before answering firmly:

- Well, I think I've spent too much time outside.

He didn't move, he just kept smiling in that almost defiant way, as if he was testing his limits. You turned around and started walking back, but the discomfort persisted. Even without looking, it was impossible to ignore the weight of his gaze burning on his back.

When he got close to the salon, he saw Kendall, and the relief was immediate. Approaching, you lightly touched his arm and murmured something quick. He nodded, casting a discreet look at you before continuing his conversation.

As you left the room, you could feel Matsson watching everything from afar, his eyes fixed on every movement. What did he think he was doing? The confusion hung over you as you went up to the room, trying to remove the discomfort of that interaction.

After dinner, when most people were already starting to disperse, Matsson called Shiv, Roman and Kendall to his office. The room was minimalist, with dark wooden furniture and soft lighting that seemed to cast more shadows than clarity.

Roman, as usual, did not miss the chance to make one or two comments that made him laugh, while Shiv kept a clinical look at Lukas' roles and words. Kendall was attentive, but calm, following each point with a meticulous focus.

When the subject of the agreement finally sold out, Roman was the first to get up, with

Shiv going right behind. Kendall, in turn, mentioned accompanying them, but Matsson's voice interrupted him, casual, but firm.

- Kendall, stay a little longer. I want to exchange an idea with you.

Kendall stopped halfway, looking at the brothers. Shiv hesitated for a moment, narrowing his eyes, but ended up leaving without saying anything. The door closed with a soft click, leaving the two alone.

Lukas went to the bar in the corner of the room, the steps deliberately slow. He took a bottle of whiskey and poured two glasses, handing one to Kendall before casually leaning back on the counter. His smile had that ambiguous quality - friendly, but provocative.

- You know, you have an interesting team. - He started, turning the glass in his hand. - A little... predictable, maybe, but interesting.

Kendall laughed low, almost automatically, while taking a sip.

- Yeah, they do what they need to do.

Lukas tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening.

- Someone from your team caught my attention.

Kendall raised an eyebrow, curious, but still relaxed.

- Really?

- Yes. - Lukas took another sip, savoring the moment. - An assistant of yours, I imagine. She tried to stay professional, but... fuck, what a woman.

Kendall laughed lightly, shaking her head as if the situation were an internal joke.

- I didn't know she was your type.

Matsson arched his eyebrows, as if he were facing something too obvious to be discussed.

- Are you slutty? Damn, the woman is fucking hot. I tried to start a conversation, but she didn't make it easy.

Kendall let out a more genuine laugh now, completely certain that Matsson was talking about Jess. He imagined the assistant, who always seemed shy and out of place, trying to avoid the company's buyer.

- Well, that probably blew her mind. This kind of situation is not exactly her strong point.

Matsson shrugged, the smile loaded with subtext.

- Maybe. But nothing that a little... persistence can't solve.

Kendall still laughed, not realizing the true focus of the comments.

- Okay, good luck with that.

Matsson raised the glass, as if toasting to the "challenge", but the malicious glow in his eyes suggested much more. Finally, he changed the subject, but the tension in the air persisted, hovering between the two as something that would not be easily dissipated.

__________________________

The next morning, as soon as Kendall appeared, Roman intercepted him right on his arrival for breakfast, looking more curious than worried.

- So, Ken, what did Matsson want with you yesterday?

Kendall sighed, already anticipating Roman's insistence. In addition to having been briefly frightened by the abrupt arrival of his brother.

- Relax, man. I won't sell the company without you. - Kendall answers with a light smile with a humorous tone.

Roman, however, rolled his eyes, impatient.

- What did he want?

Kendall hesitated for a moment, but ended up letting out a short laugh while lowering her tone of voice.

- No big deal. He just wanted to talk about an assistant of mine.

- Assistant? - Roman narrowed his eyes, his expression confused.

- Yeah, I don't know, Jess. He said he thought she was hot or something like that. - Kendall gave a light laugh. - Surprising, right? Like, who would have thought?

Roman blinked, the plug suddenly falling, and his expression became incredulous. He grabbed Kendall's arm, pulling him away from curious ears.

- Ken, are you serious? - Kendall frowned in confusion, with no answer to what her brother meant by that. After all, why would he lie about that?

Roman rubbed his face, as if he needed a moment to reorganize his thoughts.

- Man, I hate being the bearer of the bad news, but... he wasn't talking about Jess.

Kendall kept not understanding, already getting impatient.

- What the fuck do you mean by that?

Roman lowered his voice even more, but the tone carried all the drama that only he knew how to apply.

- He was talking about your wife, Ken.

Kendall's face hardened, the laughter disappeared immediately.

- What?

- Do you remember that day at Waystar? He saw her passing by and, fuck, I swear, the guy almost drooled on the glass of my living room. It was so uncomfortable that I had to invent something on the spot.

- And what did you say, Roman? - Kendall asked slowly, her eyes narrowed.

Roman raised his hands, half defensive, half cynical.

- I said she was your assistant, okay? I thought you were helping. The guy was literally looking at her as if it were dessert.

Kendall ran her hand over her face, taking a deep breath, as if she wanted to punch a wall.

- Did you say she was my assistant?

- Yes, because Lukas was one step away from asking for her number. You know how he is. I thought I was playing fair for you. I thought that, because I was an assistant, he would lose interest, I don't know.

Kendall closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was counting to ten.

- And now he thinks he can talk to me about it as if it were a trophy he wants to conquer?

Roman shrugged, casting an almost apologetic look.

- Welcome to the world of Lukas Matsson. He's a cretin with an ego the size of fucking Norway.

Roman patted Kendall's shoulder before walking away, but Kendall stood still for a moment, looking at the floor, clearly trying to decide what her next step would be.

The worst was not only Matsson's behavior, but what it meant. It was a constant reminder that he was, of his own free will, about to deliver everything: Waystar, ATN, the legacy that his family carried, no matter how sick it was.

Kendall tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, but it was impossible to ignore. Whenever Matsson made a comment that seemed on the verge of something inappropriate, Roman exchanged tense glances with Kendall, as if he was expecting an explosion at any moment.

And, of course, there was the ATN.

Kendall knew that selling Waystar was already a complicated decision, but including ATN in the package? That was simply handing over all the weapons to the enemy. With the presidential elections coming, the ATN was more than a tool; it was a weapon of influence on a large scale. Leaving that in Matsson's hands was giving him a power that not even Logan would have dared to deliver.

___________________________

That same night, Kendall finally consolidated his decision. He knew that Shiv would never support him in this plan, so he went straight to what really mattered: convincing Roman. Manipulating her brother, twisting the arguments until they made sense to both of them, was something Kendall did with the skill of someone who had spent his whole life watching Logan. And, like Logan, he felt no remorse for leaving Shiv out. She was brilliant, but also mercilessly practical, and at this moment, Kendall needed something more emotional, something that only Roman could offer.

The next day, the morning was tense, but Kendall barely seemed to notice. He maintained his professional posture, and when the right time came, he set up the scene. During the meeting on a mountain trail, he pressured Matsson with insinuations about the fragility of GoJo's numbers and the potential increase in Waystar's value. It was a dangerous dance, but Kendall knew exactly where to step to make Matsson hesitate. The plan was moving slowly, but accurately.

At night, after dinner, Kendall was visibly closer to you. Throughout the day, he had left small gestures of proximity: his hand resting on the lower part of your back while you moved through the hall, one arm on the back of your chair. It was atypical for him, and you were surprised, but you didn't complain.

Already in the room, the dim light of the lamp next to the bed barely illuminated the room, but it was enough to highlight Kendall's tense expression as he closed the door behind him. He walked up to you slowly, his fingers running through his hair in an automatic gesture of frustration, before letting the weight of his body fall on the edge of the bed.

- Roman is with me - he said, without preamble, his gaze fixed on the floor. He tilted his head to you, his eyes softer, but still full of concern. - That's already something.

You frowned, closing the book you had in your hands and putting it aside.

- Okay, but what exactly are we talking about here?

He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands before turning completely to you. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost conspiratorial:

- I'm going to screw this deal. Make Matsson give up even before he gets to the council.

Your stomach jumped a little with the confidence in his voice, but you kept the expression neutral.

- And how do you intend to do that? - he asked, hesitantly.

- Force the bar. Inflate the numbers. Throwing enough shit on the table until he thinks it's not worth it.

You were silent for a moment, processing everything he had just said. It was risky, of course, but the part of you who knew the game well knew it wasn't impossible. Still, there was something in his tone, in his gestures, that suggested that he wanted more than just his approval.

- Ken... - you started, but he cut you off.

- And you? Do you have another idea? Because, honestly, I'm open to suggestions.

He hesitated. Of course there was something - the letter that no one else seemed to be thinking about. But it was risky. Not only for Kendall, but for you too.

- It's not exactly conventional - you started, carefully choosing the words. - But we've done things like this before.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile thrown on his face.

- Okay, before your father passed away he kind of chose the next president, didn't he? Maybe... If you ensure that one of the candidates wins, but on the condition that the agreement is barred...

- Politics? - He laughed softly, more out of disbelief than humor. - Are you suggesting that I use ATN to create a political advantage and bar Matsson?

- And why not? The ATN takes care of him being elected, and everything is very simple: an election for favors to Waystar.

He didn't answer immediately. He was just looking at you, his eyes loaded with something difficult to decipher, as if he was evaluating not only the weight of your words, but you whole. Then, suddenly, a slow smile formed, that typical Kendall expression when an idea consumed him completely. Without warning, he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours almost desperately, as if you had just delivered the solution to all his problems.

- Damn, I fucking love you. - He murmured, his forehead touching yours while a small smile still hovered on his lips.

You couldn't avoid a laugh, half surprised, half enchanted, but full of the lightness that he seemed so desperate to feel.

At the same time, in Matsson's office, Shiv entered with a confidence almost identical to Kendall's, carrying on his shoulders the posture of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Shiv entered Lukas Matsson's office with calculated steps, like someone who knew the weight of his own presence. He was at the bar, absently fiddling with a bottle of whiskey, but turned around when he saw it. A provocative smile appeared almost immediately.

- Oh, Roy who really knows what he's doing. What an honor.

She ignored the sarcasm, approaching with the usual posture: absolute confidence. Shiv knew he loved a power game and wanted to make him confused about what piece she represented on that board.

- We need to talk, Lukas. Of course, my brother is... complicating things.

He poured himself a glass and offered her another one, which Shiv accepted without taking his eyes off him.

- Complicating? - He arched an eyebrow, leaning casually. - It's a polite way of saying that he's trying to fuck with the agreement.

- Well, considering the circumstances, it doesn't surprise me.

Matsson tilted his head, interested.

- Circumstances?

Shiv turned the liquid in the glass, taking his time to choose the words. She knew that the next move would be crucial.

- Before we go for this, I want something from you.

He laughed briefly, surprised by the audacity.

- Like what?

- A guarantee that, if I help you, my place in all this will be solid. No unexpected turnaround, no last-minute change of plans.

Lukas blinked, clearly intrigued.

- Are you serious?

- Always. - She took a sip of the whiskey. - You need someone who knows how to deal with things... and I need to know that, at the end of this, I won't be just a pawn.

Shiv observed his reaction with a subtle smile, as if he knew exactly the direction the conversation would take. She leaned back in the chair, keeping her eyes fixed on Lukas, while he still seemed to process her proposal. She had the feeling that he was beginning to realize the weight of his words, but still not enough to accept the offer without question.

- And what are you going to give me in return, then? - Lukas asked, more genuine now, as if the negotiation had begun.

She didn't hesitate.

- Kendall. - The word fell like a silent command, and she watched him, seeing the surprise twinkle in her eyes.

- Kendall? - He repeated, the disbelief evident in his voice.

- I want you to keep him in control. I'll help you deal with it, keep it more... tied to the agreement. But what I need is to know that my role in your structure will be clear and definitive. I'm not someone who submits to uncertainties.

Lukas was silent for a moment, watching her more intensely now. He realized that the conversation was not only about business, but about power and control. Shiv wasn't there to ask for favors, she was negotiating something much more valuable.

- And what do you think I need to know exactly? - Lukas asked, leaning forward. He seemed to want to better understand what was at stake, but something in the way he looked at her said that he was also considering the impact of this for himself.

- Something about Kendall, of course. But also about who he has next to him. You know, his wife is not just another woman in the equation. She's... strategic. Before being Kendall's wife, she already had influence, an influence that is not seen in the media, but that is very real. Politics, maybe. Real power, not this spotlight show you love. And, of course, she was always his right-hand man, helping him get where he got.

Matsson was silent, his expression changing as he assimilated Shiv's words. He tried to connect the pieces, and the surprise soon turned into a smile of recognition.

- I'll make sure Kendall doesn't destroy the agreement. I'll help you keep him on the right track. And in the end, you'll need someone like me to make sure everything goes as planned.

Lukas was silent for a moment, evaluating her, before giving a low laugh, full of understanding.

Lukas let out a short and incredulous laugh, his smile widening.

- Damn, you Roy really hate your own family, don't you? - He said, the sharp sarcasm, but his eyes shining with something darker, almost fascinated.

Shiv tilted his head slightly, an ironic smile touching his lips.

Without saying anything else, she deposited the empty glass on the table with a slight click, keeping her gaze fixed on him for a moment that seemed to last longer than necessary. So, he got up with the calculated grace of those who always know the next move and walked out of the room, leaving Lukas with the trail of his presence and the sound of his jumps echoing in the silent space.

After Shiv's departure, Lukas Matsson remained motionless for a few moments, his gaze fixed on the door she had closed behind him. A slow smile formed on his lips, but it wasn't just satisfaction - it was something deeper, almost voracious. You.

Kendall's wife.

Lukas got up from the couch and walked to the window, the whiskey glass turning in his hand. He stared at his reflection in the glass for a moment, his breathing a little heavier. There was something electric, a mixture of irritation, fascination and a barely disguised excitement.

With a quick movement, he took his cell phone in his pocket and typed his name. In seconds, the information appeared: the first photo showed you next to Kendall at an event, the haugty look, a perfect smile, but distant. He narrowed his eyes, analyzing every detail of the image.

He moved on to the next photo. You alone, greeting some big guy at a formal event. Impeccable posture, wearing power as if it were a second skin. The almost non-existent smile was just enough to comply with the protocol.

A wave of irritation passed through Lukas. How had your team let something so grotesque pass? They had done a thorough research on Kendall and all his surroundings, but they hadn't realized that the person next to him was more than a wife.

Another article caught his attention, and he clicked. Your maiden's last name. Political connections. Zero direct involvement with the media, but an evident reach in other circles of power. Lukas laughed dryly, almost incredulous. You didn't need Waystar to be relevant.

He found another photo. You in a tight dress, walking alone to an event. Every line of his body seemed designed to exude control and elegance. Lukas pressed his lips, his jaw contracting. How did Kendall get someone like that? The thought hit him hard, a mixture of mockery and indignation.

He rested his hand on the bar, the smile on his face now a mixture of contempt and challenge. Kendall, with all her flaws and insecurities, had conquered something that seemed so out of reach. Maybe that was luck. Or maybe it was you.

The heat of the whiskey burned his throat, but it was not enough to relieve the tension that grew in his body. Every detail about you was like a piece of a puzzle that he wanted to assemble. How could someone so strategic, so imposing, be next to someone as pathetic as Kendall?

Leaving his cell phone aside, Lukas leaned back at the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. You weren't just a challenge.

_______________________________

A/N: Okay, I know we ran over some things here, but I just couldn't contain my obsession, sorry!! 🫠

masterlist

xoxo, bebe🫶🏼💕

[devotee-of-apollomes]

Story based on that post by Meru where they said that Apollo leaves burn marks on Hermes.

A good piece of work I did, I must confess. Be aware that it is suggestive. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

☀️🪽

Apollo traced his fingers over Hermes' skin, taking note of the burn marks spread across the younger god's body. He didn't know exactly how to feel about it.

"Does it hurt?", he asked in a soft voice, his eyes unable to shift focus beyond the redness.

They were of different shapes and sizes. Some were shy and had an almost natural blushing quality, and others seemed to have embedded themselves in the flesh, cutting through to the inner layers.

"It's okay, it's not like they're going to be there for long", Hermes responded with a light laugh, trying to take away the worries flooding Apollo's mind. "We are both gods, and you are not called the God of Healing for nothing", the trickster reminded him, turning his head to look him in the face.

Apollo felt slightly guilty for not having controlled himself during the moment, the heat of his body having reached such a point that it began to burn Hermes' skin. He didn't notice at first because he was too immersed in the act, and his eyes only opened in despair when he heard the sounds of whimpering from the trickster.

"Come here", he said as he patted one of his bare thighs, asking the messenger to come closer.

Hermes accepted the request without much trouble, sitting on Apollo's lap. Being without clothes, his skin rubbed against the other's, the small contact making him remember the memories of pleasure. He felt goosebumps even from the gentlest touch of the Healing God's hands, feeling a light blush slowly creep onto his face.

"Wait a few seconds, it won't take long to heal", Apollo said as he placed a hand on the trickster's burn marks, intending to use his powers to remove them.

"Wait!", Hermes responded in protest, grabbing the other's wrist before he could do anything.

Apollo raised an eyebrow at the messenger's unexpected reluctance, not understanding the reasons behind it. "What do you mean by 'wait'? Hermes, I'm just trying to help you"

"I don't want you to take them off"

Apollo's confusion became even more evident on his face after hearing those words. "You don't want me to...? Why?"

Hermes shifted his gaze to look at the burns, the blush on his cheeks increasing. "It's like you've marked my body completely, made me yours by leaving them in me"

He raised his arm to show a mark that circled downward, somewhat reminiscent of a snake. "They don't hurt, not at all. And I think it's beautiful how they're drawn"

Apollo let out a sigh, inspecting the burn along with Hermes. "It's still kind of worrying to look at..."

"You're always worrying about everything, 'Pollo", the trickster retorted in a relaxed tone, closing his eyes as he felt Apollo's lips land on his forehead.

"And you're always being reckless", he replied in the same way, bringing Hermes' body as close as was physically possible.

The messenger let out another light laugh, biting Apollo's jaw line with his teeth, his hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, leaving their presence along the way.

The elder god vibrated an audible 'hm' in his throat. "I see what you're doing here...", he spoke while making no effort to stop Hermes from doing what he was doing, his own hands finding their way into the younger god's body.

Using a divinely powerful force, Apollo gently placed Hermes on the bed they were in, the trickster's body not seeming to weigh anything to him. He stood over him, hands sinking on either side of the head, his chest rising and falling with the movements of breathing.

Apollo brought his lips to Hermes' throat, distributing sweet and gentle kisses on the skin, savoring the taste, inhaling the scent that belonged solely to the messenger.

Hermes' wings flapped lightly over the sides of his head, and he responded by wrapping his legs around Apollo's waist, begging for the much desired friction that only the other was capable of giving.

Apollo let out a low sound of desire from deep in his throat, his body feeling tempted by the desire to just give what they both wanted so much. He stopped kissing and pulled away slightly from Hermes' skin, enough to allow him to make eye contact.

"You're playing with fire", he said in a low, barely restrained voice of lust, the thread that represented all his control being stretched to its limits.

Hermes smiled mischievously on his face, his eyes matching the inner desire they were both feeling. "That's fine. I don't mind burning a little", he wrapped his arms around Apollo's neck, bringing their faces closer. "Show me that you're burning as much as I am", he whispered, his breathing heated and every nerve in his body begging for more.

[azrielhours]

Lessons on Relief

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3k

Synopsis: Azriel is the last of the boys to lose his virginity

Warnings: Smut

A/N: picture az in his early twenties guys lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That one likes you, Az,” Cassian whispered, ever the devil’s advocate. “She’s always staring.”

Azriel peered over to where Cass nodded and found a beautiful female watching him, picking clothes off a laundry line. Azriel blushed and broke your gaze when you smiled.

“See?” Cassian chuckled. It’d never been explicitly stated, but Azriel wondered if Cassian knew; of the three brothers, Azriel was the only one who was still a virgin.

That was unheard of in a camp full of warriors, males that perspired pride, who turned to females for relief on grounds meant to harden boys to soldiers. Where fucking and fighting were equal measures of a warrior’s value.

Azriel was late. He’d known nothing but hardness, coveted by powerful males for his shadowsinging. Yet he was still to outgrow his shyness. He’d look at the pretty Windhaven females from afar, brushing off his brothers when they’d insist he should talk to them.

When they spoke about their time with women, Azriel listened carefully. Tales of resistance, of increasing endurance. Of angles and rhythm, speed and relief.

He committed the words to memory so he’d know what to do when he’d finally work up the courage to see through to his need. To seek it inside a woman instead of his fist.

In truth, Azriel couldn’t imagine the females overlooking the scars on his hands, his quieter nature. Yes, he’s noted many of them admiring him, the shy glances cast his way, but he felt like he was overstepping by approaching one.

He’d never known softness in his life, so he didn’t know what to do with it when it came in the form of a woman. In their delicate bones, how they needed to crane their heads up to face his towering height. How they spoke like music, their bodies—supple hips and round arms. Azriel tried to be respectful, to avoid staring, but he loved it all. Sometimes it was a pudge at the base of their bellies, sometimes it was tiny waists. Sometimes it was full breasts, sometimes it was hips with an inward dip in the bones.

He may have yet to bed a woman, but God—that didn’t stop him from wanting them.

And that female—Azriel had seen you before, charmed by your forward nature, how you always held his gaze. You’d finished packing the clothes, hauling the basket onto your hip. “Maybe you’ll see her at the bonfire,” Cassian said.

Azriel watched you walk away, how your hips swayed. You turned one last time, smiling again, and this time, he cracked a smile back.

~

Azriel arrived late with Rhys and Cassian, making their way to a bench amongst the warriors. Everyone was in high spirits, drinking heartily and singing Illyrian folk songs. The steady rhythm of a drum beat in Azriel’s heart, and he let the music wash over him as he accepted a drink from Cassian.

The alcohol buzzed in his throat, releasing the tension in his shoulders as he settled. His brothers were conversing with the men nearby, giving Azriel the chance to scope out the ground. Some men were playing drinking games, some recounting tales, and some were pulling girls up to dance. That’s where Azriel spotted you.

You were even more beautiful in the firelight, glowing like precious jewels, dancing with a group of friends, laughing brightly. Azriel noted many other males watching you, hunger in their eyes as they took in your free-spirited twirls, how you bunched your skirts up to attempt the correct steps. Azriel downed his drink, but it did little to suppress his jealousy.

Rhys nudged his arm. “Go get her a drink.” Before Azriel could refuse, Rhys snatched the empty pint from his hands, pushing him off the edge of the bench until Azriel stumbled off, forced to stand. Cassian nodded in encouragement.

Azriel took a deep breath and made his way to the barrel of ale, filling a cup.

That was when he sensed movement, and it dawned on Azriel who was entering his company. He took a sip for courage.

His nerves were replaced with pleasant shock when he felt you touch a gentle hand on his elbow.

Azriel turned, and there you were.

You smiled sweetly up at him, hands tucked behind your back.

God, did Azriel love the softness of women.

“What’s your name?”

“Azriel.”

“Hello, Azriel."

He returned your easy smile.

Your eyes darted around playfully. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what my name is?”

“Oh—yes. What was your name?”

That pretty grin again. “Y/N.”

Azriel relaxed further. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

He didn’t know what to say next, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“You know, you’re not like the other Illyrians,” you continued.

“How so?”

You shrugged. “You’re not so… domineering.”

Azriel frowned. “Domineering?”

“Like, you’re not the ruffian type.”

He laughed. “The ruffian type?”

You waved a hand. “You know what I mean. I’ve never seen you make any advances on the women. And God knows they’re all dying to be talked up by you.” He looked to the ground, and you laughed. “I’ve never seen a warrior blush.”

Azriel smiled. “I don’t think there’s a shortage of Illyrians being flustered by you.”

You stepped closer, eyes bright. “So you can flirt. Took you long enough.”

 Azriel’s brows rose in amusement. “I was… playing my timing correctly.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right,” he grinned.

“Well, Azriel, since you got the plan all figured out, where do we go from here?”

Before he could suggest returning to the bonfire, to let him watch you dance, you traced a finger down his hand, feeling the raised skin. He tracked the movement, then met your gaze. There was no hesitation in your eyes. You only weaved your fingers through his.

Azriel swallowed, trying to compose himself. “I’m feeling like we could use a change of scenery.”

You stepped closer. “I agree. Will you walk me home?”

Oh.

“It would be my pleasure.” Azriel thanked the Mother for the steadiness in his voice, the same couldn’t be said about his heart.

To his eternal delight, you didn’t release your hold on his hand.

You didn't mind his hands.

Azriel’s heart raced. Sounds of the bonfire grew distant as you led him between and around paths and houses until you stopped at the door of a quaint cottage.

You still held his hand even as you fished in the purse around your waist for a key, leading him inside. You released him, beaming at him as you toed off your shoes.

“You live alone?”

“My father's working in a different camp, and my sister's probably seeking her own fun tonight,” you smiled crookedly.

Not her first time, then.

Azriel just nodded.

Your gaze softened, studying his rigid posture. "You don’t… do this often?"

"Uh, not—not really.”

Your lips parted in realization, and Azriel's face burned with shame. But you just smiled sweetly, reaching once again for his hand. He obliged, holding your smaller hand, vigilantly studying your face.

"That's okay, darling," you spoke, voice honeyed. “I mean, we don't have to—”

"I want to,” he blurted.

Your smile never faltered. “Me too.” A reassuring squeeze to his hand. As if doubling down on your eagerness, you reached behind your back with your free hand, holding his hand securely between both of yours. You led him to the stairs, oblivious to how it made Azriel’s heart soar.

Azriel felt warmth coursing south. The familiar sensation of arousal heightened his bodily awareness, making him breathe deeper.

He realized he had permission to look. To want. His gaze roamed down your form before him—how your body curved and dipped. His need for you calmed the edges of his nerves.

And when the scent of your desire reached his nose, he was honed in. Hungry. He'd heard of lust overtaking people, how it became an all-consuming sensation, but to feel it outside the walls of his bathroom was liberating in a way that felt wholly correct.

You entered a room, lighting a faint faelight.

Good, because Azriel wanted to see it all.

You approached him with a certainty that had Azriel’s breath catching. The need in your eyes mirrored how he felt. He wanted to touch—to taste—

You ran your fingers down his arms. He brought his hands hovering by your frame, available for you to hold again if you pleased. You did just that, yanking down gently, rising on your toes.

You wanted to kiss him.

Azriel exhaled in relief, letting his mouth fall onto yours. Your hands inched up to his neck, pulling your body flush against his. Your lips were soft and warm, moving gently against his. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you firmly to his body, spurred on by how you moaned into his mouth. You bit his lip and he felt his trousers tighten. Your hands roamed down his front, all the way to where he ached.

When you traced down his stiffness, he broke off from your mouth to watch. Your delicate fingers traced down. He instinctively covered your hand with his, halting at the sight of his scars—maybe you didn’t want them touching your flawless hands—

He released your hand, trying to tuck his away. It was more jarring to see them in the light of your room. You tracked his movement, and Azriel braced himself for your change of mind. You wouldn’t want him to touch you anymore.

You met his gaze with a pinch between your brows. Reaching for his elbows, you tugged his arms back forward, tracing down his forearms to his wrists. Then you lifted his right hand to your mouth.

His breath stuttered when you placed featherlight kisses along his hand. You opened your mouth, putting two of his fingers inside. Azriel’s mouth parted, mind utterly blank as he watched. You sucked his fingers, gaze unbreaking. Your tongue licking freely along his skin reignited the heat in his blood, brought back the ache in his pants.

You pulled his fingers out of your mouth, tugging his shirt out of his trousers. Message received. Azriel tugged it off, dropping it to the floor. Your eyes were dilated, chest rising quicker as you deftly traced down the ridges of his muscled front. Down to his belt when you met his gaze. So he unbuckled his belt with shaky fingers. Anything she wants is fair game. You turned your back, scooping your hair to expose your corset to Azriel as he stepped out of his pants, utterly stripped.

Azriel didn’t allow himself to hesitate. He undid the tie, gently loosening the strings. You shimmied out, pulling your skirt down before turning to face him only in your shift.

You maintained eye contact as you reached for the neckline, tugging it down over your shoulders. Over your collarbones, your breasts, your elbows. Letting it pool at your feet.

Bare.

Mother spare me.

You were everything. Maybe he shouldn’t stare even though he knew he had permission; maybe it was juvenile to take you in like oxygen, but Azriel could do nothing else. He drank in your form like it was his salvation. Studied your silhouette like it was his sole purpose. Down your ankles, up your thighs, your stomach—

You reached for his wrists, guiding his hands to your hips. He tried to breathe deeper as lust baited his sanity. He swallowed at the feel of your softness. You guided his hands to your waist, onto your stomach, up around your breasts.

You released him, letting him take what he wanted. Azriel couldn’t breathe. He squeezed the flesh, noted how it made your mouth part. He ran his thumb over your peaked nipples.

Your pleasure only spurred his need. He would make you feel as good as you already did him. He would—he would please you.

He repeated the motion—anything to get you to—

You gripped his length where it leaked against his stomach. Azriel gasped, jolting. You stroked down and back up, watching his face, setting a steady pace. Azriel’s face contorted, mouth parted as he breathed shakily. His hands dropped to your hips as he tried to focus on anything but the coiling sensation deep in his belly, or your audible breathing that brought him closer—your fingers moved faster, making his muscles tense, his hips bucking forward into your hold, all the while your eyes never left his. His heartrate sped as his breathing grew shallower and you massaged pleasure right into him—

With a gasp, Azriel came undone, ropes of his spend pulsating out of him onto your stomach. You didn’t let up, continuing until Azriel shuddered at the overstimulation, grasping your hand to cease your movement.

He heaved as he came down, knees weak.

Blood rushed to his face as he met your hungry gaze. He came too fast—that wasn’t how this was meant to go.

But you didn’t balk. Your dilated gaze held his, desire colouring your cheeks pink. You weren’t… put off by how fast he finished.

You took his hand and pulled him to your bed to sit. Immediately, your hands were on his shoulders, kissing him. Hungrier than before. Azriel was done with reluctance. He was going to take what he wanted.

He pulled you into his lap, relishing your surprised gasp. He pulled you closer, letting his want guide him. He kissed your jaw. That neck. He nearly growled, letting himself indulge in the softness. Letting himself taste it. Your soft sighs were music to his ears. His hands ran all along your form. Down your arms, across your back, squeezing your ass.

When you were a panting mess in his arms, he released you. The scent of your need was an aphrodisiac he’d happily overdose on. Your hands shook as you brought his hand to your apex where your legs parted on his lap. He let you position his hand, gasping with you at the wet warmth he was met with.

You showed him how to touch you, how to move his two fingers against the plush softness of your sex.

Azriel hardened again at the feel of the wet ridges he stroked. You released his hand, your whole body trembling. Your mouth hung open, brows pinched. He began moving faster, curious to see what would—oh.

You whimpered.

Your pleasure turned him on more than anything he’d ever fantasized about. When you began rolling your hips onto his hand, losing control, Azriel bent forward and captured the peak of your breast in his mouth.

You cried out, gasping as your legs widened and then closed tightly around his hips. He rose to watch, keeping his hand nestled between your legs.

Your eyes were screwed shut as you fell off the precipice, grasping his hand away. Only then did he let up, and you exhaled, your body relaxing onto his lap.

Azriel wasn’t sure if… this meant that it was over, if you were spent, but one thing he knew for certain was he’d take being painfully aroused without finishing anytime if it meant he got to bring you pleasure like that. He was content with going home now and taking care of himself, no matter how much he ached for more if it meant watching you come like that.

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing him. “More,” you spoke huskily. “I want more.”

Thank God.

You got off his lap on unsteady legs, laying back on the bed, and the sight of you spreading your legs for him was nearly his undoing.

But Azriel took steadying breaths, rising and positioning himself over you. His hips hovered above yours, arms holding him up on either side of your frame.

Azriel felt something entirely instinctive take over. He knew where he wanted to bury himself. Where he needed to. He forgot about his worries. There was only the drive to push himself inside.

There was the rest of the world, and then there was you.

He notched the head of his aching length against your heat. You reached down and helped guide him, lining it up correctly. Lower—there, his length rested upon a soft indent. Azriel shuddered. He could hear your heart beat frantically.

He took a shaking inhale and pushed his way in. Just an inch.

His mouth parted, and that feeling—that absolute bliss that was your tightness squeezing him—Azriel couldn’t think.

This was it.

He didn’t realize he’d needed it; all he knew in the wake of your silky warmth was that this was utter relief.

There was an urge to sink in. To sheath himself.

But when he dared push forward, you tensed. Cassian’s tales echoed in his head, to not be a brute, to not take pleasure at the cost of comfort. That it can sometimes feel like breaking for females. Flashes of his father’s brawny form crossed his consciousness, giving him the strength to fight the urge to bury himself. Not him. I’m not him. So Azriel breathed through the reflex, resisting, resisting, resisting. Until you relaxed. Still, Azriel held back.

He must’ve begun shaking because your hands were suddenly soothing up and down his arms, stroking through his hair, grounding him back on earth. “It’s okay,” you breathed. With your feet planted on the bed, you hauled your hips up, spearing yourself further onto his length.

Azriel hissed. You were a temptress, taunting his self-restraint. But Azriel was a fiend, and he wanted you more than he could recall wanting anything.

So he watched as you relaxed again and gave more. Your head rested on the pillow, lolling to the side as you sighed in relief. You liked it, he confirmed. Females want it too.

He gave an experimental pull, relishing the feel of your walls tugging against his withdrawal, then he thrust forward, this time even further. Your brows pinched, giving him momentary pause again until he realized it was in pleasure, not in pain. You nearly took all of him.

It was so good. His head began clouding, a haziness that had him closing his eyes as they rolled back. He understood why the others talked about sex like it was better than breathing.

Another slow withdrawal until only his tip was notched inside, then he pushed forward, finally plunging to the hilt, his hips rested flush against yours. Azriel tried to stay present, to study your writhing, your panting, but the warmth inside you was making it difficult to focus. Azriel dropped to his forearms to keep himself from buckling onto you, the pleasure testing the strength in his arms.

He buried his head into your neck, listening to your erotic moans, holding his breath to keep from losing himself. He waited a few beats, willing away the oncoming precipice he felt approaching. No. He wanted this to last.

Then, you began rolling your hips from beneath him. Azriel groaned, low and guttural.

He set a steady thrusting pace as that knot of pleasure began growing again. He wouldn’t have lasted this long had you not brought him to release by your hand before.

Raising his head to watch, he found your brows pulled taut with pleasure. He was bringing you that pleasure. He wanted to see you tip over the edge again. “Y/N,” he rasped lowly. You opened your pretty eyes in question. “Keep your eyes on me,” he commanded; the darkness displacing your irises pulling a grunt of deep male approval from him.

You whimpered, trying to focus on his eyes, but yours kept falling shut involuntarily. He had the gall to halt when you failed to oblige, as if he could want anything more than to rut inside forever.

With his length paused halfway, your eyes flared, staring in shock. Azriel held your gaze, but yours narrowed in challenge. You planted your feet on the bed once again and began rolling your hips onto his length at the same pace he’d been previously working. It was intoxicating.

Azriel’s jaw dropped, eyes falling to where your bodies met, watched as you speared yourself onto him again and again.

The sight nearly undid him, but luckily, it got you first.

The roll of your hips brushed your apex against his pubic bone, and you whined as you pushed yourself over the limit of your release.

Your hips fell back onto the bed when you couldn’t take it anymore. Azriel seized the opportunity, fucking into you faster as your walls clenched around him. You cried out, gasping. Your warmth suctioned him deeper, squeezing him in waves. Azriel’s climax was harder than he’d ever come before. His arms shook and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

The pleasure at last abated, and he let himself partially rest his weight on you for a moment until the feeling returned to his body. You stroked down his back, exhaling in relief. Azriel lifted himself, staring at you with wide-eyed bliss. Holy shit.

“That was so good,” you breathed. “Where’d you learn to… how did you—”

Pride swelled in Azriel’s chest as he broke into a crooked smile. “I had the right motivation.”

You glared playfully. Azriel finally pulled out, halting when you gasped. But you shook your head at his concern. “It’s okay—it’s just sensitive after—” you gestured between your bodies. He nodded, falling into bed as you yanked the covers over yourselves.

“But you’ll be okay?” Azriel asked tentatively.

You laughed, eyes closing happily. “I’m more than okay, Azriel.” You traced a hand tiredly over his arm.

He tracked the movement. “I love that,” he murmured.

“You love what, darling?”

“The softness,” he confessed quietly. The softness of women.

You smiled with your eyes closed, winding your arms around his neck, sinking against his body. Azriel enveloped you. “Come find me anytime you want some more softness,” you breathed.

He listened to your breathing as you fell asleep; despite the relief relaxing his body, it took a while for him to fall asleep from the vivid intimacy he felt with you in his arms, how settled it made him feel.

So Azriel basked in it, didn’t fight it as it crept into the crevices of his weary soul and quietly healed him until the sky turned to light.

~

Azriel walked through the camp on light footsteps, his head blissfully clear. He was savouring the rare peace he felt, knowing it was only a matter of time before—

“There you are,” Rhys smiled widely, coming out of the communal hall with Cassian. “Looks like someone’s feeling rather relaxed.”

Azriel cracked a smile, neither confirming nor denying.

Cassian grinned. “Was it with her?”

Before Azriel could respond, he heard soft female chatter drawing nearer. He turned to find you walking to the hall with a friend. You didn’t halt your stride, only brushing the back of Azriel’s hand softly with your own as you passed, throwing a teasing smile over your shoulder.

The boys tracked your movement, giving Azriel the chance to nod while he still had your attention. You had him wrapped around your finger. Cassian laughed boisterously when they faced him once more. “You sly dog, Azriel Shadowsinger.”

He heard you faintly laughing up ahead, having heard Cassian. That gentle, feminine sound caressed him, making him smile easy.

Indeed, he could learn about softness.

~

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy

a/n: I’ve been obsessed w this concept for weeks. Young az w his troubled past learning to find reprieve in women? like have you guys ever thought about his first time? he could barely look at Mor when she arrived at Windhaven, how’d he work up the courage to bed a female pls. Special s/o to darling @princess-tulip-writes for helping me w the title and listening to me vent about this obsession :) love you all

[sirfrogsworth]

I'm moving out of the city and I'm going to have to learn to drive. Any advice for someone (reluctantly) looking into cars for the first time?

Sorry for the late response, but I really wanted to answer this because I think I have some relevant advice.

I started driving the very day I was allowed to get my learner's permit. I took it very seriously. My dad was a mechanic, my brother literally built a car when he was 16. They were car guys and I was the goofy comedian they didn't really understand. So I wanted to be a really good driver to impress them.

I practiced every chance I got. I took driver's ed in school and got a 100% in the class. And I got a perfect score on my written driver's test and only got dinged for 1 thing on the main exam (it was bullshit, but apparently there is no way to protest a near perfect score).

But then I got sick and it didn't make sense to pay for car insurance and maintain a vehicle. So I didn't drive for roughly 15 years.

Then both my parents got sick and they became dangerous drivers and so I had to figure out how to drive again. And at first I was nervous, but after about a week of driving, I was nearly as good of a driver as when I was younger.

The reason?

Muscle memory.

Muscle memory will save your life over just about anything. The less you have to concentrate on the physical actions and habits required to drive, the more you can concentrate on situational awareness. If you don't have to think about turning the wheel, or braking, or even activating the turn signals, you can use all of that brain power to pay attention to all of the dumb fucks they let drive cars.

So my biggest piece of advice would be to break down all of the physical actions required to operate a vehicle. Even the tiny stuff like switching the station on the radio or turning down the fan on the A/C. Then find a way to practice these things over and over and over until you have that muscle memory embedded into your brain. My muscle memory was so deeply ingrained that it lasted through 15 years of not driving and a batch of mind-wiping electroshock treatments.

Find a safe place to practice and just repeat things until they feel like second nature. Especially checking your blind spots. If you can get checking blind spots to the point where you do it without even thinking about it, you will increase your safety substantially.

Other tips...

Small cheap cars are best first cars. Big cars can make you feel disconnected from the road. Almost like you are piloting the vehicle in a video game. I started on my grandma's 1987 Chevy Cavalier. It was tiny. It had no power. It was free. But I could feel everything I was doing. I could feel the turns. I could feel the road. I could feel braking and acceleration. And it really helped me understand the relationship between driver and vehicle. It was like a big go-kart but I think having that as my first car really helped me develop my driving skills.

And my last tip is to learn gradient braking and acceleration. It's mostly for the comfort of your passengers. It gives them a smoother experience but it also makes them feel safer driving with you. Basically you want to figure out how to apply pressure to the pedals in such a way that almost no G-force is felt. So you start with very light pressure and gradually transition into the max pressure you need. And you need to do it quick enough to stop and accelerate at the proper rate. If you don't transition fast enough you might not stop in time or be able to merge onto the highway. And if you transition too fast people will be lurching back and forth in their seat. But, again, practice makes perfect.

My brother is horrible at this, though mostly on purpose. He likes driving like everything is a race. And with his muscle cars, that can be fun at times. But when you are just going to the store it can make one a little nauseous. I find myself just grabbing the "oh shit" handles and never letting go.

But if you can smooth out your acceleration and braking to the point it is barely felt, all of your passengers will thank you for it.

Hopefully that helps. And maybe other folks can reply with additional advice. And if you have any more specific concerns feel free to ask. I wasn't sure if you were more worried about driving or picking out a car, so hopefully we can collectively cover both.

I wish you luck and hope you learn to love driving. It is pretty cool once you get the hang of it.

[capr1pengu1n]

So let's all pretend that we are undead

Summary: After an encounter with something you're sure wasn't human, you come to find that he can't seem to keep himself away from you

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), vampire au, so typical vampire things (vampire lore is whatever i say it is), choking, fingering, dom!Edward, power play, marking, stalker behaviour

Words: 4.6k

Notes: So after the lovely @adhdnursegoat posted her amazing vampire edward fic (which you all should read cause it's so delicious), i remembered i'd posted a vampire au fic on ao3 ages ago and never posted it on here, so here it is. I edited it so it flows better with how i write currently.

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The hairs bristle on the back of your neck as you walk your standard commute home, the physiological response a frighteningly normal part of your life for the past couple of weeks. You keep walking, one foot in front of the other as the wind lightly blows your skirt around your thighs. Out of the corners of your eyes, shadows move and twist into alleyways and darkened shop windows under the moonlight.

The feeling of being watched is something quite new to you. Of course, you were once a child cowering under the blankets at night, fear emanating from that corner of your room that was just a bit too dark, a bit too empty. However, the feeling had naturally dissipated once you reached adulthood. You grew up, realised no monsters were lurking in the shadows, or creatures hiding beneath your bed ready to feast on your ankles. At least, that's what you thought. But now, since you'd met him, you felt you were always the subject of someones intense gaze.

Thinking about the first time you met him, was it even a him? It made your head grow fuzzy and unfocused. You distinctly remembered the panic you felt after missing the last bus, the biting chill of the night air as you walked back, the tight feeling of your shoes and the planning to return them as they weren’t fitting right. The pre-occupied thoughts must have led you to take a wrong turn, but after that the memory feels wrong; like a tv full of static occasionally getting a flash of cable network. You remember a sort of warmth, a hand? Maybe, you think something must have pushed you. But what you mainly remember is the terrible ache in your neck the morning after, how groggy and light headed you'd felt. You shake your head and continue to press on, the faded memory won't help you get home after all. Although for a reason you can't quite place, the colour green won't leave your mind’s eye.

A clatter causes you to turn around, your heart jumping to your throat at the loud noise. False alarm, you watch as the empty pepsi can rolls sadly along the pavement. You get your phone out to entertain yourself until the screen flickers and the battery dies. You start to slightly panic now; you knew you’d charged it so there’s no way it should be out of power this quickly. As the streetlamps flicker too, you increase your pace. You’ve watched enough horror films to know you don't want to hang around when weird things start happening, so you maintain a quick stride, ducking through shortcuts and ignoring what you thought are footsteps behind you on multiple occasions.

“I think you dropped something.”

Before you register the question, you feel something grab your arm hard enough to have you stumbling. Your head spins around to face your attacker, ready to fight. He's tall, easily able to overpower you as you're pushed back against the wall and your face tilted up towards him. He looks…human? What an odd thing for you to think, it’s not like he can be anything else. Glasses frame his admittedly handsome face, and your eyes dart to the tailored suit that clings to him in a dark shade of green; the more you look at it, the more your mind seemingly feels fuzzy, so you opt to stare into the pools of his eyes instead.

You feel the blood pumping throughout your entire body, the nervous twitch of your fingers as your mind races. You want to run, to scream, to stay and find out what exactly the man before you wants. He smiles, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes, gazing down at you in what could only be described as fascination. “Shhh, don’t fret” he whispers, the cadence somehow putting you more at ease and making your body feel weightless.

“What- what do you want?”

He seemingly laughs at that, like the mere thought of you attempting a conversation with him was somehow amusing, but he divulges you.

“I have come to apologise; I can’t help but think I-“ he pauses, “over-exerted you last time we met.”

You go to explain that you’ve never met him before, but like a tidal wave it comes crashing back to you. It was him. He had done something, left that mark on your neck and had you deliriously waking up inside your apartment with no clue how you came to arrive there. Now, all you can visualise in your mind’s eye when you think about that night is the dark green that adorns his figure.

“Clever girl, I knew you’d remember. Although I admit I was not the most gentlemanly presence that night.”

While his words imply that he's trying to apologise, his tone carries no such weight.

“Someone as delicate as you all alone, you’re lucky it was me who found you.”

Scrambling in your mind, you manage to crawl out of the haze he seemingly has you under to demand an answer to a question that has plagued you you. What happened that night? But all he says in reply was “I was hungry.”

Before you can hope to say another word, he softly brings his hand up to your jaw, tracing down your neck until he reaches the marks he left.

“They’ve healed well” he breathes; his voice so soft you could barely hear it. “I suppose it’s too soon to drink from you again, I do want you to remain intact.”

You should be scared, should be screaming for help and fighting him off, but you aren't. You don't want to, why do you want to be his captive? While you don't understand who, or what, he is, you somehow know that he doesn't want to hurt you. Instead, all you have to contend with is the embarrassing realisation that you have been pressing your thighs together the whole time he spoke, his voice vibrating through you as his touch sends little jolts all around your body. His eyes flit down to your thighs, and your whole body seems to shift under his gaze.

“Such an eager little thing” he muses, “I wasn’t expecting such a response, but it is indeed welcome”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and when he places his hand on your thigh you can't stop yourself from rocking forward. That motion causes a real laugh from him, a noise deep and inhuman, something that in any other situation probably would have sent shocks of anxiety through you but instead sends you deeper into your own depravity. But he withdraws his hand, and takes a deliberate step back away from you. Confusion sweeps across your face, although his remains impassive.

“No, if I am to take you it will not be in an alleyway like a common whore.”

Your face flushes as the reality of what you had just been so eager for him to do sets in, you don't even know this man’s name yet you were so willing to have him touch you so intimately.

“Go home pretty girl, I’ll announce myself when the time is right”

His tone leaves no room for negotiation as he moves to walk away, not before stopping to utter “My name is Edward, since you were wondering.”

You get the sense he already knows yours, despite never giving it. You blink and he's gone, he hadn’t walked away, he was simply gone. Dissipated into thin air like a blow of smoke. So, you start to walk home yet again, body still aching and your mind reeling at the encounter you’d just had.

It's a few days until you have an encounter with him again. The hour is late, although this time thankfully you're safe in your apartment, having finished your depressing routine of re-watching your favourite show alone with a quick dinner you’d prepared. You're just starting to doze off on the sofa when the knock comes at your door. Freezing, you turn towards the door and listen again. Another knock comes, loud and imposing. You weren’t expecting visitors, so shyly you get up to look through the peephole but nobody sees to be there. Opening the door, you jump when you see him, Edward, staring at you from the hallway.

“Mind if I come in?” he inquires, and something about the way he speaks makes you want to say yes to anything.

You manage to shake that disturbing feeling but stammer out a yes and step aside for him to enter. He looks the same as when you’d saw him last, his pristine suit spotless save for a small dot of red staining the crisp white of his shirt. He walks straight into your living room, looking around in feigned curiosity while you awkwardly pick at your sleeve. What were you even meant to say to him?

“Have you been thinking of me?” he asks, and stares deeply at your shocked expression. You hadn’t expected him to say something so blunt, so you change the subject to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting you had.

“Who are you? Why are you- “

“Why am I here? My dear I thought you’d be happy, after all it was you who was so desperate for my personal attention when we last spoke was it not?” He replies, the smugness present in his tone.

You know you have no way of avoiding the inevitable, shameful memories pouring through as you recall just how horny he’d made you with just a few simple touches. Although the rationality thankfully starts to come back to you, as you still hadn’t had a clear answer as to what happened to you during that previous encounter.

“I suppose I’ll lay your suspicions to rest; I can see they’ve been plaguing you.” He starts, ignoring your shocked expression as he seemingly reached into your mind and pulled out the interrogative you’d been thinking of. “When I first laid eyes on you, the hunger I had been experienced increased tenfold, I needed to have you in my arms while I drained the blood from your neck”

Now you really are speechless, the cold tone in which he admits to such an act causes a chill to run up your spine. It was so…inhuman. You should laugh in his face at such a story, but your thoughts go hazy and you find yourself accepting his speech as fact. As he speaks, he walks closer to you, and when you crane your head to look at him, his neutral expression can't quite hide the darkness in his eyes. 

“And so, I did. I bit into you and you satiated me. It’s been a while since my prey was so happy, even through the daze of your vision.” Amusement bleeds through his cadence as he recalls the memory of you pliant in his hands, reaching up to once again trace the mark left on your neck, now nearly healed.

“What the hell are you?”

The sound of his uncanny laugh reaches your ears once more, deep and unsettling. Instead of answering, he leans closer to your neck, his hot breath brushing against the mark he left. Tense, you close your eyes and brace for pain that never comes. Instead he simply kisses the spot, causing you to shiver and making him hum in appreciation.

“Tell me you want me.” He demands, “Do that and I will have you experiencing pleasures your fragile mind cannot hope to quantify.”

You can't stop the noise that rips from your throat even if you'd have tried, and despite any self-preservation you may have, you nod sheepishly.

“I said tell me, sweet thing.”

“I want you.”

“Good choice.”

He pushes you against the wall and you await his next rough movement, but instead he kisses at your neck, leaving little marks in his wake, and making you gasp at the coldness of his lips. He holds a tight grip on your hips, keeping you still and where he wants you, so all you can do is stand there and take his teasing. You feel something sharp as he drags what you guess are his fangs along your neck down towards your collarbones, your loose shirt allowing him access as he continues to leave his mark on your fragile skin.

“Do you have any idea,” He drawls against your shoulder, “how hard it is to hold myself back from ravaging you? Ever since that night, my desires have been plagued by you.”

You try to rock against him at his words but his grip remains firm.

“To think some mortal girl could overtake my thoughts like this.” The mixture of resentment and lust was clear in his voice, pulling away to look at you before grabbing your neck with his hand. You stand there, at the complete mercy of this man, this creature who could destroy you so easily, and it scares and exhilarates you in equal measure. But those thoughts come to an end when he finally kisses you roughly. Like a symphony, everything in your body seems to sing in delight, your eyes almost rolling back as the ecstasy of his lips on yours overtakes you. Maintaining the grip on your neck, his other hand makes its way down to your hips and up under your shirt. With every trace of his ice-cold fingertips up your torso, he leaves goosebumps in his wake and your body trembles. 

“Such a gorgeous thing.” he rasps, inches away from your lips. “So eager for my touch.”

You can only nod in response and grip on to the lapels of his jacket. You have never felt such burning desire in your life; the more you look in his eyes, the more the ache between your thighs intensifies. 

“Come now, let’s continue in more comfortable surroundings.”

He pulls away and leads you to your bedroom, you're so overcome with desire you fail to notice how he knows the layout of your apartment without you telling him. Before you can ponder that, you're sprawled on your back upon your bed, with him towering over you like the apparition of a god. He traces his hand over your body before lifting your shirt slightly to fully expose you to his gaze.

“I feed your anger, and I sicken your desire to satisfy me with every look, what am I?”

It takes you a moment to process what he says, but you're in no sense to try and decipher a riddle. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind, more so wanting to tell you the answer himself, proving his intellect.

“Envy, my dear. When I look at your body it makes me long for the warmth a mortal can provide.”

“You really aren’t human, are you?” you manage to stammer out, which awards you a low laugh from him.

“No. No I am not, although it doesn’t seem to be affecting you negatively now does it? I think you like it.”

He smiles then, a wicked grin that can only be described as a predator smiling at its prey. “Is that true? What a foolish little girl you are, getting aroused at the power of another being. Someone who could tear you apart.”

As he says the words, static jolts through your body making you let out a whimper and push against nothing. You look at him and he revels in your reaction, before the same sensation wracks through you. It's like you've had the air sucked from your lungs, you gasp and writhe as he commands your body without even touching you. But it isn't enough.

“Please- “

“Hm? Is there something you want my dear?”

After the third time he sends electric through seemingly your soul, you relent; you beg for him to touch you, to hurt you, to give you anything other than the blissful torture he was subjecting you to.

“If you insist.” is all he remarks callously before getting on the bed with you, ripping your underwear off with a hidden strength and pushing your skirt up, before lowering himself until he's eye level with your dripping cunt. The lewd position makes you embarrassed, but when he licks a stripe up you, your thoughts turn to mush and your head falls back. He repeats the motion before focusing on your clit, sucking while he grips onto your thighs. You can feel the bruises forming under his fingertips as he continues to please you with his mouth. Such divine pleasure coming from a creature shrouded in malevolent power makes the sensations so visceral, so intense. Bringing a hand to his hair, you attempt to shift your hips upward to feel more of his tongue but he keeps you firmly pressed into the mattress.

“You taste delightful.” He states against you, the vibration pleasantly shooting up your body. He continues to lick circles around your clit, and you gasp when you feel one of his fingers teasing your entrance. “Ask for more and I’ll give it to you, in abundance.”

So, you do. You beg for more in a way you didn’t think possible from you, sounding so desperate to your own ears. Looking down at him, you see the sadistic glint in his eyes at the way you sound, it's clear he was reveling in the power he has over you.

Luckily, he divulges your request, pushing a finger inside you; the coldness of it makes you whine and once again you attempt to shift under his grip. He ignores you, moving in and out until he feels you're ready enough for him to add a second one. All the while he continues to lavish your clit with his tongue, giving you an ecstasy that leaves your body ignited with lust. You need more, you can't take anymore. It's too much and not enough all at once.

Your pitiful cries seem to spur him on, thrusting his fingers a bit faster and crooking them just right to have your eyes rolling back into your skull. Over and over again, he has you at his mercy and you adore every second. To think you’d found out this man, this thing wasn’t human and in the same encounter offered yourself and your body willingly to him scared and excited you in one single warped wave of pleasure. He starts to gently suck on your clit once again, his fingers thrusting faster and rougher into your soaked cunt. You know it won't be long before you come undone beneath him, the prediction coming true as you feel it build inside you. Just like before he seems to once again enter your mind and know what you're thinking.

“Are you close already? My my how desperate you truly are, do you want to cum?”

You nod eagerly; your vision hazy as something seems to overtake your brain like a blanket atop a candle. You hear him speak again, but not just through your ears but through your mind.

“Submit to me, become mine and I will grant you the pleasure you crave.”

There's no other option, you have to say yes and you know you want nothing more. So you offer yourself to him fully, claiming to be his, watching as he seemingly comes alive; his fingers moving impossibly quick and something like colour appearing on his cheeks.

“Then cum.”

With his permission you let go, crying out his name as fireworks seemingly explode in your entire body. Squeezing your eyes shut, you can't control the frenzied movement of your body as it thrusts up into him. His grip on your thigh had loosened, allowing you to ride out your frantic pleasure as it seemingly lasts for an eternity. When you finally come back down from the heavens you're breathing sharply, opening your eyes to see Edward rising slightly from his position. You barely have time to think before he leans forward and bites your inner thigh. A sharp pain rushes through you as you look down in shock, seeing him lap up the blood that trickles from the wound; your thigh now has the exact same mark which was on your neck and despite both your morality and post-orgasm haze, your cunt throbs at the sight of him drinking up your blood.

“It seems I couldn’t control myself.” He states matter-of-factly, wiping a trace of blood from his lips with his finger. He then looks at you with an expression you can't read, before leaning over you and placing the finger in your mouth. Without thinking you suck the bloodied finger clean, staring at his eyes which darkened at your actions.

“Good girl.”

It had been the only time thus far that he’d praised your actions, which leads to you flushing and turning your head away. He brings you back to facing him with a hand on your jaw.

“You’re so easy to read, I hardly need to comb through your mind to know what you’re thinking.”

You stare at him, unsure as to how to vocalise your feelings. You settle on asking him how he can read your mind, which results in him smirking slightly.

“Reading your mind? What a simplistic way to put it. But I suppose if that’s the language it takes for you to understand, yes people like me can do that with ease.”

You feel a little embarrassed at the condescending way he speaks to you, although it isn't long before you forget all about it when you feel him push you so you're on your back once again. You look up at him, before he captures your lips in a fierce kiss once again. Each time he does this, it always strikes you just how cold his skin is to the touch.

“Now,” he starts, “I will take you properly, hm?”

You're a little shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you nod regardless. As he gets you in position, that same clouding of your mind happens as it had earlier; the weight of something pressing on your thoughts, making you feel so desperate for his attention, his touch, his anything.

With a gasp from your lips, you feel him enter you, a whine escaping your lips at the sensation. Grabbing on to his shoulders, you feel the air be drawn from your lungs as he pulls out and thrusts into you harshly. 

“You feel…divine” he manages to say into your ear, before his thrusts become slower. He traces his hand down your body, grabbing at your tits before growling slightly and ripping your top completely off; you’d been so caught up in what happened you’d forgot you were still wearing it. With every slow thrust you almost feel your sanity slipping away more and more, your fingernails digging in more and more to his shoulders.

“How does it feel? To have a…creature so superior to you inside you? He whispers, the pride in his voice suffocating. Despite his narcissism, you can't help but whine and tell him how good everything feels, not quite being able to articulate the pleasure he was giving you through more than just his physical touch. 

He begins to speed up after your admission, grabbing at your hip and waist before stroking his hand up and wrapping it around your throat; not squeezing but simply holding. You have no doubt that even though he was fucking you, he still posed a danger to you, and as you looked into his cold eyes you could see that that was the point. He delights in the control he has, that he could just as soon kill you than he could make you cum. And more importantly, he knows you like it.

You feel your eyes roll back slightly as he continues his pace, the slight noises of pleasure from his lips make your cunt throb more. He doesn't seem to get tired or over-exert himself, instead maintaining whatever rhythm he desires.

“Such a…greedy thing” he states, his thrusts getting faster, “You truly are a vision, what a pretty pet I seem to have found.”

You shudder at his words; your fingers having moved to drag your nails down his back as he adjusts his head near your ear to whisper into. The pleasure, the sensation, it's overwhelming. You shift your hips, the angle causing him to hit that spot inside you that has your mind reeling. All you can do is nod and release noises from your mouth that upon reflection you’re sure can't have come from you, they're so…desperate.

“And I’ll be sure to make you into such a good pet for me…all mine to use.” It was clear he meant what he said, his hand tightening on your throat. You can't help but moan at his words, the chill of his body pressing against yours mixing to create a euphoria in your head. Over and over, he thrusts into you, getting deliberately rougher as you two get closer and closer.

It was then you feel something you can't describe, an oppressive feeling throughout your entire body that simmers just below your skin. You don't know how, but you know it's him causing you to experience the strange sensation.

“Do you feel it? The control I have over you?” His grip tightens on your neck even more, causing you to struggle for breath. The feeling in your body swirls and fills every pore, every inch of you. You have never experienced anything like this in your life, the sheer ecstasy and torture of being at this monster’s mercy, inside and out.

“What fun I shall have with you, your mind cannot hope to quantify the things I am able to do to you, and I will do all of them.”

You aren't sure whether it's his rough pace, his harsh words or the fact that whatever he's doing to your mind decided it was time, but you cum loudly and frantically. The waves of pleasure crash into you; you feel as though if it wasn’t for his form pressed so close, you'd fall through the mattress and into nothingness. The world seems blurry and disjointed, your nails digging in to his back so harshly you're sure in the back of your mind you're leaving marks. Strained breaths claw their way up your throat as you feel his grip loosen, his thrusts never faltering for a moment. Overwhelmed, the feeling of him pounding into you while you're still so sensitive causes you to whine pitifully, but all you can do was lay there and let him use your body. The drag of his cock pulling out and pushing back in to you hurt so good, you almost don't want it to end despite the overstimulation. You aren't sure how long it takes, or even if you cum again from the sheer amount of pleasure your body was receiving but you feel him cum inside you, rambling about how you belonged to him as he rides out his own high. 

All that you can hear in the room is your loud laboured breathing, as the weight of his body on you was now gone. You look up at him, seeing him adjust his clothes like he’d simply done something mundane, not fucked you within an inch of your life. He glances over at you, at how pitiful you looked; half naked and sweaty, thoroughly satiated and he smirks a little. Within a moment he reaches over and strokes your cheek slightly, the intimacy surprising you. He brushes some hair out of your face, his fingers slightly shaking before standing up.

“Rest, your fragile body needs it.” His tone sounds distant, but there was a hint in his face that he wants to say something else but refrains.

“Will I see you again?”

Your question makes him smile slightly, walking towards your bedroom door but stopping before he left.

“Would you like that?” 

The way he asks makes you think he's experiencing surprise, as if the thought of you wanting to interact with him again was somehow unusual. You nod your head.

 “Then yes…I’m sure you will.”

He leaves without saying another word, leaving you still sprawled out on your bed, your mind racing. With slightly shaky limbs, you adjust yourself and wrap the blanket around your trembling form, exhaustion settling into your bones. The next morning, you're ready to write the encounter off as a wildly inappropriate dream until you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, still naked. Marks. Lots of them. All over your neck, with what looked to be fingerprints adorning the side. And as you gazed at the massacre of your skin, soft fingertips gently running over the blotched marks, you can't help but smile.

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[softlypaintedseafoam]

織姫

synopsis. "do you want to protect nayuta? then follow two rules. stay away from major cities and don't join the public safety devil hunters." you're 19 years old when you technically break only one of kishibe's rules.

pairing. makima x f!reader (afab)

word count. 13.5k | masterlist

content warning. part 1 spoilers (manga spoilers), canon divergence (makima never meets denji), man is a blazing star (series), canon-typical violence, amoral protagonist, character death, established relationship, dissociation, non-linear storytelling, use of y/n

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

the finale of man is a blazing star and probably my love letter to the entire series as a whole, so i'm especially proud of it. i really wanted to make a piece where the reader, now older, despite maintaining key aspects of her previous incarnation is also starkly different and i hope it shows!

Dawn is a time of day you appreciate more when you don’t have work.

While you ordinarily complained how the hours in those days vanished before you could enjoy them, dawn has always been the exception. Your early mornings have always moved slower compared to the rest. It’s a slow, quiet whisper you value fully, especially now as you enjoy the sound of the waves as you walk your assorted mix of pets on the beach. You’re sure the two of you look like quite the pair with your seven dogs on their leashes and one of your two cats in a leashed harness.

Makima is a woman bathed in the light of dawn. 

You release a sigh of satisfaction, watching your girlfriend go ahead of you as your dogs stretch their legs.

It’s in how the morning rays dapple her form in near perfect circles. In the hues of her pale carmine hair that cascades across her bare skin. It’s even in the gold of her eyes, much like the yellow sun that peeks through the horizon.

It’s strange to think that this time two years ago, Makima had been a colleague you couldn’t stand to be around. Now you’ve willingly allowed a string of fate the exact shade as her hair to bind you both in the most irrevocable of ways.

“I won’t use my power on you, in exchange, we have to stay together forever. We’ll eat a lot together, sleep together, and live a happy life together.”

The contract of a lifetime ー marriage in its own right.

Gone are the days of patrols, weapons and putting your life on the line to ensure the safety of the general populace.

How peculiar this entire journey has been.

You will never pretend your reasons for joining the Bureau were pure of heart; you’d never dreamed of glory or protecting others.

For Makima, you’d gladly put your entire being on the line.

It goes against the nature of the Control Devil to have equal relationships.

Makima has one with you.

Moral ambiguities be damned. I believe in you. It’s a vow you know you will take to your grave as you watch your lover pause, wondering what has caught her excitable dogs’ eyes. Bagheera’s crooked tail tip twitches in interest, bounding forward with clumsy footsteps and you chuckle as you increase your pace so the cat can see it too. Tora, on the other hand, is comfortable in her backpack carrier. This is how mornings are done in your family. “What’s got the troublesome octet so excited?”

“They’ve found a crab,” her voice is amused and mellifluous. Crab sounds like a wonderful idea for dinner and you’re sure she has the same idea when you hear dulcet giggles slip from her person. Like a child, Makima turns to face you with her lips stretched into a delighted smile.

It’s then that carmine suddenly becomes jet and there’s a mole underneath her left eye that wasn’t there before.

Ah.

“[First], I want crab for dinner!” Nayuta beams brightly.

“Damn you have expensive taste,” you tease in spite of your stupor. Right. Those memories aren’t mine.

The dogs you walk remain but all but two of five of them are different from the seven you could have sworn were with you just a moment ago. Bagheera isn’t with you either, succumbing to his health issues years ago when you were still a child. All that remains of the cats you adopted is Tora, an old lady you left at home to snore on the couch with the Power’s new kitten.

“Have ‘em,” Himeno told you shortly after you moved in with her in the quiet town of Shonai. “They were yours anyway. Oh, but Meowy’s always been Power’s.”

The ringed eyes are the only part of Nayuta that is the same as the woman from your memories. The eyes and the braid you know she’ll twist her hair into later.

You wish the image of that woman would disappear.

Thankfully Nayuta is seemingly unaware of your dilemma. “I’ll get some in a few checks,” you promise and you receive an impish grin in return. You smile instinctively, your earlier troubles assuaged.

It’s a magic only Nayuta possesses.

The magic is disturbed when one of the dogs yelps in pain and Nayuta guffaws at the display of a small crab latched onto its nose.

You wonder if you had grown up surrounded by humans if you would find her reaction unsettling. As one raised among devils and fiends, however, Nayuta’s reaction is only standard even as she yanks the crab away with ease and tosses it into a returning wave. “That’ll teach you not to play with crabs,” Nayuta laughter subsides into chuckles as she pets the pup’s head.

You love the dawn.

How the wind runs its invisible fingers through Nayuta’s hair much like a musician strumming the strings of a harp.

How the light of the sun crests Nayuta’s head much like a halo although you’re sure the god of such beings will likely you spurn you for the comparison. How ironic that a devil is the closest comparison you have to the opposing pole.

When it’s like this, it’s easy to pretend you and Nayuta are the last ones on earth on this beach.

There are no devil hunters, no other humans and there are no other devils either.

You digress that the truth of your reality is fine, however.

You work 6 out of 7 days in a week at a local convenience store all the while Nayuta pursues a degree through online courses at Tohoku University. Himeno goes to the pub once or twice every other week to indulge in the non-alcoholic beverages her sister allows her to drink. Even Power somehow manages a steady job helping Ichika sell the vegetables she grows in the garden. A well-placed hat and even a Fiend can blend in to some extent.

Work is limited for a Fiend in hiding from the government.

Everything is limited when it’s the Control Devil remaining out of the government’s sight.

“Do you ever wish you could actually go on campus?”

“Not particularly.”

Nayuta’s never really been a people person though, so you suppose it truly doesn’t matter to her whether she can physically attend Tohoku or not. So you subsequently deduce that she likely won’t care that she’ll be limited to working remotely for the rest of her life either.

Nayuta fingers dug into the back of your shirt, body tense. Her abilities required she believe one was lesser than her for her to order them, that was impossible when you were both scared out of your wits cornered with nowhere to go.

The woman kept an eye on you both, weapon drawn in one hand, phone in the other. “I found the C-”

Unwittingly, your mind drifts back to the red-haired woman as you watch the loose strands of Nayuta’s hair dance in the wind. Makima.

You don’t know much about the previous incarnation of the Control Devil save for what tidbits you allowed Himeno and Kishibe to tell you. Himeno did her best to sugarcoat it but blunt as Kishibe was, you know for certain that Makima wasn’t the kindest individual.

“ー kept her on a tight leash when she was alive,” the drunkard raised his flask to his lips for the tenth time in the three minutes. Every fiber of your being burns with a hatred for a man that isn’t wholly your own at the comment. “But even with that leash, she was a ticking time bomb. So keep this one on a leash that’s even tighter. Otherwise, she’ll turn out like Makima again.”

Makima is Makima, Nayuta is Nayuta.

ー is ー, you’re you.

“Hey, Nayuta, pick a country,” you call for the one you love. The one you love. The proof is when she turns and Nayuta is all that remains. You don’t hate Makima. You don’t think it’s possible to hate any incarnation of the Control Devil. But Makima is who ー loved and their sun had long since fallen. “One that doesn’t have a devil hunting association in it.”

“Seychelles,” Nayuta doesn’t miss a beat, grinning the devilish grin you adore all the while. “We still need to have our honeymoon.”

A dirty sheet turned into a veil rests on jet black hair while you recited your on-the-fly vows.

“Yeah,” you chuff as you rest your hands in your pocket. “I owe you one, huh?”

A honeymoon and the whole wedding too.

ー

“What’s this new job of yours again?”

“I got a gig cashiering the next town over,” you pinch the green collar of your uniform as a physical display of your employment. 

Himeno’s one eye closes as she hums thoughtfully into her mug, “what about your job at the konbini?” Her smile is as plastered as wet cement.

“It doesn’t pay as much,” you shrug. It isn’t the first time Himeno has made some sort of stir about your sudden change in employment, it likely won’t be the last. “If I’m gonna get paid to kiss ass all day, I at least wanna get paid more than chump change.”

“You make chump change as a cashier no matter where you work,” you choose to ignore Himeno’s comment. When her sister’s sharp stare of disapproval lands on the former devil hunter, you know the conversation will be dropped for now. Thanks, Ichika.

Ichika smiles kindly, always a touch too gentle and understanding. It’s easy to appreciate the woman’s soft-hearted nature. “Well, I for one, am glad you have a pay raise even if it’s somewhere else,” the dark-haired woman tells you. “We both are,” her soft blue eyes dare her sister to disagree with her sentiments. Himeno is smart enough not to voice against them. Gentle as Ichika is, Himeno will always crumble at the threat of her anger. “What time will you be home? We should eat something special to celebrate!”

“Crab sound good this weekend?” At your suggestion, Nayuta perks with interest for the first time since breakfast began. You bump your knees together lightly. With what you’ll be making now, you can afford to buy her crab every night. “I can pick some up before I head back after my last shift of the week.”

On the other side of the table, Power is just as interested in the suggestion. “Crab,” the horned woman inquires with a fiendish grin. “Finally something worthy of my taste buds! Servant,” the Blood Fiend’s strawberry-colored locks whip around in her excitement. It’s only barely doused by the unamused look Himeno shoots in her direction. Barely. “Human,” an improvement. “Make a crab dish for us!”

Ichika takes Power’s demands in stride, “I think crab would be a nice treat. Don’t you?”

Matching blue gazes share a quiet conversation before Himeno relents with a tired smile, “I guess crab isn’t that bad an idea.”

Power guffaws with prideful glee as Nayuta’s expression twists into impish satisfaction. Her few-weeks-old dream of crab will finally be fulfilled. A peaceful glow washes over you as you take in the sight of her drinking miso soup from a finely polished bowl.

Himeno’s house is a far cry from the abandoned building you both once called home.

The wooden floor is clean, not dirtied from even filthier shoes and haphazardly drawn images made with sharp rocks used as chalk. In this house, you have three meals a day. The limit to what you can take is no longer reduced to only what you’re able to carry.

It’s a life you always dreamed you’d one day share.

Although admittedly you never accounted for the additional humanoid bodies living in it. 

“Well, I gotta get goin’,” you slurp the last of your black tea before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “See you guys later,” you stack your dishes neatly atop one another, waving off Ichika’s attempt to take them from you. “See you later,” you tell Nayuta warmly, pressing your lips against hers for only a  moment to spare yourself from feeling one of Power’s dirty napkins hitting your shoulder. “Have a good day at school.”

“Call me for lunch,” to the untrained ear, it’s a demand. To one as experienced as yourself in the language of Nayuta, it’s a request.

It’s an uncannily peaceful morning for a household of humans, fiends and devils. One that religious zealots would lose their minds over. 

On an ordinary morning you yearn for the comfort of your and Nayuta’s bed and letting the hours roll by as you embark on your quest for work. This time, your stomach twists with discomfort as you hit the freeway.

It’s nearly an ordinary morning.

As you promptly pass the exit that actually would have led to the town next door, you know the last chance for ‘ordinary’ has sailed. The nearly three hours long drive it takes to get to Sendai is long enough for you to stew in your guilt. You park inconspicuously near the woodsy outskirts of the city, thumbs resting on the steering wheel.

It’s too late to turn back now, you remind yourself. I’m doing this for us.

Two adult passports.

Visas.

Housing.

Food.

Permanent Residency.

You’d never be able to save for it all with the chump change you’d been making at the local konbini. Nor would Nayuta ever be able to live a free life under the restrictions placed on you by those who took you in. There is no major country in the world Nayuta can be free in.

Nayuta had been a stranger, once upon a time. A stranger who never existed in your conscience and whose life you never perceived.

Then your eyes met and you experienced the birth of a universe.

You’ll gladly put your entire being on the line.

“Do you want to protect Nayuta?” Your grip tightens for a moment longer before finally reaching for the duffle bag you hid underneath the passenger seat.

“Well yeah, obviously.”

“Then follow two rules. Stay away from major cities and don’t join the Public Safety Devil Hunters.”

You’ve technically broken only one of Kishibe’s rules.

ー

Your parents used to take the first day of school very seriously.

It was always a momentous time when you went up a grade level. Photos were snapped constantly and after the first day ended successfully, there’d always be some sort of celebratory dinner. When you saw Ichika tearfully take in yours and Nayuta’s uniforms, you can tell things in this household were going to go the same way.

“The two of you are starting to become young women,” she smiled sappily, polaroid camera already in hand. “It feels like it was only yesterday you two came here and now you’re already going to school! You’re both so beautiful!”

Nayuta certainly was, you wanted to say. Her chin-length black hair now stretched to the upper middle of her back, framing her gold-colored eyes perfectly. But that would only make Ichika gush further about how you both were equally gorgeous like a proud mother.

You’d have thought you and Nayuta were infants when you were brought to this house with how Ichika coo’d and aww’d. Except the two of you were already thirteen when you’d come to the Nagano household and a year later, the school term had been going on for a few months. It had been unclear if you’d be starting high school or being held back. Donned in the dark brown uniform of Higashi Middle School, you knew the answer.

Even Power had on a uniform, refusing to be left out of the celebrations.

“That’s right, our little women,” Himeno laughed, holding an energy drink like it was a beer can. “Smile for the camera!”

You were able to turn the corners of your lips into a smile but, if anything, Nayuta’s scowl only deepened.

“Nayuta,” Himeno sighed in frustration. “I know you’re upset that you and [First] are in different classes but we’ve been through this. It’ll be good for you. Ichika,” she looked to her sister for support, blue eyes pleading. “back me up on this.”

Nagano Younger placed the camera down with an empathetic smile, “don’t you want to make friends?”

Ringed yellow eyes practically glowed as Nayuta sharply looked at the woman, “what do we need friends for? All [First] needs is me.”

The Nagano sisters shared a look that was a mixture of concern and exasperation. The primary debate of the weekend had finally reared its ugly head just before you were due to leave. Before either of them could say anything to placate their youngest ward, however, Power’s manic laughter filled the air. When she had her fill of amusement, she rubbed the bottom of her nose as her laughs faded into chuckles. “The Great Power was once this immature,” Once? “Nayuta!” She points a sharp nail in the direction of the only other non-human in the house. “Stop behaving like a child! You’re reflecting poorly on my teachings!”

“Bark like a dog.”

Power dropped on all fours and barked the moment the demand left Nayuta’s mouth. The actual dogs in the house went into an excited frenzy, barking alongside with her.

“What did I tell you about taking your powers out on people because you’re upset,” all hints of playfulness left Himeno’s body in favor of displeasure. “Nayuta,” she placed her energy drink on the table at the young devil’s silence. Ichika sighed quietly, placing her camera down before she quietly turned to the kitchen.

“The two of you need to learn how to interact with people. Outside of the house,” the former devil hunter took a glance at the barking fiend. When she sighed, you knew Himeno likely thought that even the interactions within the house needed some work. “Now hurry up and turn Power back.” Nayuta directed her gaze to the nearest window instead. “Nayuta, I’m not asking.”

“Just wait a moment,” Ichika’s lark-like voice rang from where she went about her business. Hurriedly, she arrived with two bowls of ice cream in hand. With her sharp sense of smell, it captured Nayuta’s attention immediately and she held out her hands expectantly. “Don’t you have something you need to do first, young lady?”

Nayuta blinked, seemingly confused as she followed her gaze to where Power crawled on the floor. In the blink of an eye, the barking stopped. “Thank you,” Ichika nodded in satisfaction before she finally handed you both a bowl each, winking at you knowingly.

Power returned to her feet, cheeks hot with anger but whatever she was going to say, she stopped in her tracks the moment you held the bowl of ice cream Ichika gave you directly under her nose. It only took a beat before the Blood Fiend grinned, lifting the bowl as if it’s her newest kill. “Gahahaha! I suppose I can accept your humble offerings,” you snorted quietly at the display. If anyone was the child in this house, it was her.

Himeno threaded her fingers through gray and navy blue hair with a whiny sigh, “everyone in this house wants me to age, Ichika. And we can’t just use ice cream to bribe her into behaving! Why does she get ice cream if I don’t get to keep beer!”

“Because your doctor said to either quit or be placed on a liver transplant list so you’d have a head start,” Himeno withered under her sister’s less-than-amused glare. “And I hope you savor that energy drink. Remember what we agreed on - one can per month.”

“And it’s always the smallest size possible,” Himeno grumbled, looking much like a child herself. If you hadn’t known who the older sister was, you would have assumed otherwise. “And low in sugar so it tastes absolutely disgusting.”

Ichika ignored the jab, knowing her sister would drink the disgusting low-sugar drink regardless. “Nayuta,” she began thoughtfully. “I know how important it was for you that you and [First] be in the same class. But there are going to be times when you have to interact with other people and we want you to be able to navigate those times with ease. There are going to be more opportunities for you both to be in the same class, we just want you to be okay with times where you aren’t.” When Ichika looked to you for assistance, Nayuta’s golden gaze turned to you as well.

We can socialize and be in the same class at the same time, can’t we? Truthfully, you hadn’t been thrilled with the class assignments either. It had been you against the world before you met Nayuta when you were left alone on the streets of Beijing. Not knowing what would happen to you with your parents gone, school didn’t seem all too important. You think you might have liked school, you truthfully can’t remember. You even had friends, good friends. You couldn’t seem to remember their faces either. Too much had happened to hold onto those memories.

The last time you’d been in school, you were seven.

It took a fair bit of home study for you and Nayuta to be ready for even middle school. If you had to go to school again, you wanted it to be by each other’s side. The school administration had different thoughts, it seemed. But underneath Ichika’s hopeful eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to spurn her goodwill. You liked Ichika, she was kind. “If we’re in different classes, we can go on dates for lunch. And I can walk you to class each day, like in the movies.”

It’s only when she heard those words that Nayuta looked even remotely enthused about your separation.

“See?” Ichika’s smile widened in her appreciation.

“Alright,” Nayuta leaned against you, not entirely pleased but no longer entirely upset.

It was a solid victory as far as Ichika was concerned.

The rest of the morning went smoothly. Nayuta and Power indulged in their ice cream and when they were finished, Ichika indulged in getting her celebratory photo. Power held her peace sign while yours and Nayuta’s arms were linked tightly. Lunches packed and promises of an extravagant dinner made, the two of you finally left home hand in hand.

ー

“I know damn well that a Fish Devil costs more than that,” you scowl at your employer. “I didn’t drive over two hours to Sendai for you to stiff me on the price. I’ll take this to Yamaguchi if I have to.” That’s the problem with these underground devil hunting jobs. If someone wants to short change you, they will short change you. It’s been five months since you’ve begun your dealings with Nishida and the oaf never ceases trying to pull the wool over your eyes.

“Come on now, [Last],” the slimy businessman raises his hands as if placating a child. He looks more like a Pimp Named Slickback with his crinkled purple suit than someone who works in devil hunting. You suppose one working under the table can’t complain. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“Tell me that when we’ve known each other for a decade,” you point your gloved finger against the desk two, three, four times. Each thudding strongly against the tabletop rattling the bloody axe you’ve placed on it. “550,000 yen. I don’t want even a decimal less.”

Nishida’s lips curl in dismay, “have I ever told you that you’re a real bitch to work with?”

You’ll continue to be one until you’ve gathered all you could, “acknowledgement from the queen of bitches is a real honor. I want my check.”

He rolls his eyes and calls you a few more choice swears under his breath, but he finally complies in writing a check with the correct amount. If you had been anyone else, perhaps Nishida could have paid you the 230,000 yen without issue. Perhaps you’d have even considered that a steal. Your training under Kishibe and Himeno taught you more about pricing devils than you were prepared to admit.

What are the ethics to killing devils when you are dating one?

You decide to follow the devil code of ethics. Kill or be killed, it’s that simple.

It’s never been a question if Nayuta would spurn you for such acts if she were to ever learn of them. It’s the fact you know Nayuta would follow you to Sendai in a heartbeat.

“I found the C-”

You will never bring those unfinished words to reality.

Carefully you remove the gloves on your hands to even more carefully extract your wallet from the ziplock bag you keep it in, placing your check within its pockets. Then you tuck it all away once more before donning a clean pair of gloves instead.

“Ugh, I’m getting hot just looking at you,” Nishida groans, eying you as if you were equal parts insane and excessive. You wonder if he’ll ever get used to the lengths you go to make sure no trace of blood and the smells of other devils touch your person. You don’t even put your axe in the car, it hasn’t been there since it had been a new purchase. No, you keep the rusting thing right here in Nishida’s crappy building in Sendai’s slums.

Trying to hide something from Nayuta’s nose is like trying to rob a bank blindfolded. “I told you already, I don’t want the blood getting on me. Killing devils is gross,” you wave the man off. Five months you’ve been doing this and you haven’t slipped up yet. Your ritual is the same each time ー before you start hunting, you dress in what is practically a glorified hazmat suit. Once work is done, you take it all off with gloves covering your hands and dump it in the trash.”

“It just seems like a lot of hassle,” Nishida scratches the back of his head, nonplussed. “If this ever gets in the way of your job, don’t come crying to me.”

“This coming from the man who doesn’t do the hunting himself is crazy,” you click your tongue in unsurprised annoyance. If it means keeping your proclivities a secret from the house, you’ll wear the hazmats again and again. “I’m not coming in tomorrow, I have a date with my girlfriend. Something you know nothing about. Well, you did. Until about a month ago, right?”

The look on Nishida’s face almost makes you feel better about his attempt to scam you. Almost. “Just go home before I decide to take my offers of employment elsewhere!”

You chortle with pleasure as you finally exit his dusty office.

When you arrive home, the wind must have blown your scent through the door or a cracked window because you walk into Makima’s arms the moment you pass through the door. “Welcome home, [First],” Makima greets you adoringly, red tresses brushing against your jaw. Her arms are as warm as her voice, wrapped around you as loose as one called the Control Devil will allow.

It’s instinctive, how quickly you return the embrace. “That professor finally off your ass?” Strange. Since when has Makima been a student?

Nayuta pulls away from you slightly, just enough to look you in the eye as you converse. Nayuta is the student, you remember. Business management is what she studies. “I don’t know why he-” Nayuta blinks as she takes all of your visuals in. “[First], what’s wrong?”

Your smile falters, “it’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Tired of the memories that don’t belong to you. “Management just really loves working their best employee.” You’re happy tonight is Himeno and Ichika’s pub night where they never drink alcohol but do engage in the card games with the locals. Himeno’s been trying to catch in the midst of a lie you’re sure no one can detect. 

“Want me to talk to them then?” Nayuta is too quick to offer her services. I’m earning more than enough now. “I’ll get you a manager’s salary too.”

“Nah,” you shake your head. “I just want it to be tomorrow for our date already.” You’ll be dying silk scarves in town and then you’ll head to a restaurant. If it weren’t for the restrictive life forced upon you by the world you live in, maybe the two of you would live somewhere more exciting. Somewhere with more than enough novelties for you to gawk at in awe.

Nayuta snorts at your dramatic lament, “you’re so cheesy.”

“You’re the cheesy one,” you blow a raspberry against the juncture between her jaw and neck and Nayuta squeals immediately.

“Gahahaha!” Nayuta ducks away and you giggle in return. She’s always been a bit ticklish, you’re simply the one lucky enough to do so without repercussions.

“I know ways to make tomorrow come much faster,” Power’s snark cuts through your flirting like a dull knife. The Blood Fiend rarely ever sits still unless it is mealtime or she is watching something thrilling enough. The evening news normally is usually not something that makes Power lay down in the middle of the living room floor on a throw pillow yet here she is. “Being stricken with blunt force guarantees many hours to pass you unknowingly.’

You raise an eyebrow at Power’s unwarranted attitude, “what’s got you in such a shitty mood?” 

“They mentioned the Chainsaw Devil on the news earlier,” Nayuta recounts as if telling you the weather report. She looks over her shoulder at where Power lays coolly. “It’s the anniversary of when the Bomb and Chainsaw Devils showed up in Tokyo.” Right, I forgot. They only showed up once however many years ago and still the news would cover it like it could happen again at any moment. You secretly believe Hayakawa Power hopes for the same. You never met Hayakawa Denji, you only heard the stories. He sounded like an even bigger handful than Power.

Power is all that remains from everyone who once claimed the Hayakawa name as their own.

“Don’t mention that name in front of me!” Power snarls without looking in your direction. She doesn’t move to change the channel regardless.

“Pitiful,” Nayuta comments but her grip around you tightens in spite of it as she rests her ear against your chest.

Pitiful.

You open one too many bags of popcorn while Nayuta puts on one of the Inazuma Eleven DVDs Power got on her birthday last year. The five dogs excitedly run around the house to the sound of Power obnoxiously singing "Stand up! Stand up! We love football!” Tora is content to rest on your lap and Meowy the Second takes off with her second popcorn kernel.

To wait this long for someone who ran away and never looked back is pitiful.

A Power who isn’t living up to her proudly chosen name is even more so.

You breathe in the scent of Nayuta’s shampoo as she rests her head on your shoulder. It really is too damn pitiful.

ー

“You ever wonder why there are devils but no angels?”

One of Nayuta’s classmates’ words piqued your interest from the other side of the room. Nayuta’s eyes followed yours in vague interest at the students piled in the corner. The only one you personally recognized was Yamada Moe, your class’ president. True to your word, you were on a date for lunch.

As much of a date it could be at school, anyway.

Everyday the lunch hour reared its delicious head, you’d make your way to Nayuta’s class to eat with her. “I mean, think about it. If devils are physical manifestations of the things we fear, why are there no physical manifestations of the things we love? Like, there are plenty of people who love snakes. So why’s there no Snake Angel?”

“A Chicken Angel would be pretty damn powerful then,” a different girl, likely the class clown, chirped. “But would angels be biblically accurate?” Her eyebrows move mischievously at her suggestions.

“Don’t say that,” Moe covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. Her deep dark brown hair, the color of charred wood, is pulled back into a ponytail and her green eyes sparkled at the thought. “I’d love to see a Hamster Angel then.”

“Or even a Mermaid Angel! That would be so pretty!”

“Mermaids aren’t real, Rika.”

“Neither are zombies but there’s still a Zombie Devil,” ‘Rika’ sputtered in her defense, cheeks pink. “Everyone’s afraid of zombies and everyone loves mermaids, so both would exist by that logic!”

You considered their words with a silent hum. Himeno said she met an Angel Devil once, I think. I wonder how strong he is.

“ー and Makima had promised me to protect him if anything ever came out about him but, well,” Himeno trailed off before vaguely gesturing towards you. You remembered the discomfort of it even as the woman brushed it off with a warm palm placed on your head. “It’s fine though. Kishibe’s given me no updates concerning him and in our business, that’s a good thing. That twerp is doing just fine.”

If an Angel Devil is the manifestation of humanity’s fear of angels, you wondered what a Devil Angel would be like.

“Rika, Tomoko,” Nayuta placed her chopsticks atop her empty lunch box before resting her cheek on her hand. “Give me your desserts,” she yawned. Beneath the table, her legs twined with yours.

“Sure thing, Nayuta,” Rika beamed, holding up a pudding cup enthusiastically.

Tomoko nodded, looking relieved, “my mom packed me too many things anyway.”

Moe glowered in your direction.

It was almost reminiscent of the times you were both street urchins and Nayuta used her powers to ensure you’d be able to eat that day. The only difference is, as Tomoko and Rika walk the moderate distance to your half of the room, that you no longer are that desperate to eat. Nayuta smiled when she saw, among their treats, was an anpan roll with roasted black sesame seeds. Sweets were the secret to this young girl’s heart, all hints of disinterest washed away. Cute. “It’s one of your favorites, [First],” enthusiastically she opened the packaging before raising it to your lips. “Does it taste good?”

You relished the mixture of bread, sesame and adzuki beans on your tongue, “yeah, this is pretty nice.” You looked over at the unsuspecting girls who are too happy to help. Too happy and unaware of the reality of the situation. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” Rika brushed off your gratitude with a dispassionate wave of her hand. “What kind of angels would you guys be excited to see? Mermaid Angels would be pretty cool, right?”

You shrugged, not wanting to reveal your inherent bias, “I can’t really imagine what an angel would be like. We’ve never seen one.” 

“I just think if we had angels, they would be the ones fighting devils,” Tomoko sighed wistfully, light years away from where you were gathered in class 3-C. “Love is the strongest thing in the world, right?”

“The power of love is cheesy,” Nayuta scoffed.

The three of you ー Tomoko, Rika and yourself ー shared a look of varying degrees of disbelief.

“Since you find it so cheesy, maybe you can finally stop blocking the halls when you makeout and cuddle in the hallway,” Moe rolled her eyes from where she still sat, nose scrunched in equal measures of disgust. Her eyes held your own with a look of annoyance and you couldn’t hold back a snort.

“We are pretty annoying, huh,” you snickered, winking at how Nayuta was still holding the pastry near your lips. Laughter of agreement followed your admission from those sprinkled across the room save for two individuals. If Nayuta had been someone else, perhaps she would have withered under the scathing eyes of class 3-A’s president. Because she wasn’t someone else, though, she met the glare with her own. “Even the Love Devil would hate us,” you bit into the roll once again, stealing Nayuta’s attention.

“The Love Devil is probably ugly anyway,” Nayuta replied with a petulant smirk.

Lunch continued without further hiccups, much to your relief. The desserts were eaten and the desks were back in place and it was time for you to head back to class. Nayuta still wasn’t entirely pleased at your class assignments, but she got better about it the following months. The ‘dates’ and walks had kept her placated.

“Thanks for that, [First],” Himeno sighed gratefully when Nayuta was in the bath after your celebratory dinner. “When are kids supposed to stop having temper tantrums? We really don’t need her having one at school. You have to be her anchor.”

You’d have done that even if Himeno didn’t want it. “I’ll pick you up after class,” you told Nayuta unnecessarily but you knew she liked the reassurance. You’d always come back for her even if there was distance standing in the way of that.

“You can make out with Nagano later,” Moe scoffed as she walked past you to room 3-A.

Nayuta glared over your shoulder at the brunette, “she’s ugly.”

“I do gotta get to class though,” you sighed heavily, throwing an arm over Nayuta’s shoulder. She returned the gesture with both arms thrown around you. “My adoring fans in 3-A await me.”

“You don’t need your adoring fans when you have me,” Nayuta hugged you tighter and you don’t find yourself disagreeing.

You tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “that’s pretty true. Those guys mean nothing. You’re my number one.” Gold eyes looked at you like you were a dream before you had to turn around.

“Why do you even like her?” Moe scoffed as you caught up lazily. “She’s awful.”

“She’s cute,” your lips curled at the waves of irritation directed at you further. 

Moe’s expression contorted into one of disgust at your answer, storming ahead of you. “People like you disgust me. You’re bullies.” We still sit next to each other so you’re not really doing anything, you know. Knowing it would be pointless telling the girl that, you looked over your shoulder to wave at Nayuta one last time before ducking into class. 

“At least pretend to pay attention,” a quiet whisper from your right caught your attention. You shrugged, unbothered. You’ve withstood more terrifying things. Whatever you failed to do, that only seemed to upset the class president even further. “Follow along with the text before the teacher calls on you.”

“I forgot my textbook,” you whispered back, directing your eyes forward.

“You didn’t think to ask someone to look at theirs?” Moe asked incredulously.

You thumbed in the direction of the empty desk to your left. Kinomiya wasn’t there to mooch off of that day. “And it isn’t like you like me, or anything. I’ll just get the notes from someone else.”

“Unlike you, I’m a good person,” Moe muttered, raising her desk just enough that it wouldn’t make a sound as she pressed it against yours. “I’d have shared if you asked.”

“There are no good or bad people, just good or bad actions,” you countered her belief with one of your own. There aren’t even any devils that are purely bad. They only become bad to you because they killed someone you care about. Or because they destroyed something you considered precious. But if there was a devil that killed other devils and rescued people, you’d say they were good.

This philosophy could be applied even to angels.

Angels would only be considered good if they did help humanity fight against devils. If there were angels in an unseen place known as Heaven, they definitely didn’t feel called to fight against the apparent wicked. They didn’t feel called to defend the apparent helpless humans of Earth. And by that definition, that would make them bad creatures. Angels would be bad to you. “And if you have to say you’re a good person, you’re probably not as good as you think you are.” Moe gasped, brow furrowed in her offense as you leaned closer to read the page. “Thanks.”

She couldn’t have made it more apparent how much she hated you with how quickly she separated her desk from yours at the end of the day. You shrugged, not particularly bothered by the reaction.

Some people never meshed with each other and that was that.

Moe hated you and you were indifferent to her existence.

You initially believed Nayuta’s thoughts were the same as yours until she started wiping your arm as if it were filthy after school.

“You stink,” Nayuta’s nose scrunched in obvious displeasure, rubbing your arm as if she could scrub the smell of Yamada Moe away. Even now you were in awe of how strong her sense of smell was; Moe hadn’t even been wearing perfume. “Why do you smell like her?” If she meant to be intimidating in her glare, she failed before she could even try. Her furrowed brow was more cute than nerve racking. 

“I forgot my textbook so we had to share,” you recalled the glares and looks of dismay. “She was not happy about it. I think Bags was lying on it so I didn’t see it when we were leaving.” You’d simply remember to check your book bag more thoroughly tomorrow morning. When you were a sizable distance from campus, you recalled the earlier discussion from lunch. “What did you think about all that angel talk at lunch today?”

“That humans are dumb,” as if realizing how that sounded, Nayuta pressed against you as you walked down the path apologetically. “99% of them.”

“You can say it, a lot of humans are dumb,” hands still woven together, you side step away just long enough to playfully tug Nayuta against. Power’s characteristic ‘gahahaha’s slip from Nayuta’s lips again, you aren’t sure when she started unconsciously mimicking her. It’s cute though. “Angels are just angels, even if they did exist. And it wouldn’t be like there’s a guarantee they’d want to just help humans either.”

“That’s because humans are arrogant,” Nayuta didn’t hold back her criticism with her concerns of offending you assuaged. “And they want to control the nature of everything. Fish swim, plants photosynthesize. Hurting is fine for devils.” 

You chuckled at her choice of words, “I’d be the Pride Devil.” You took ownership of the inherent arrogance you possessed as a human of this good year. 

“You’d be the [First] Devil,” Nayuta argued head tossed back joyously at the thought, giggling all the while.

“I don’t think enough people hate me for that to happen,” you chortled as you swung your hands back and forth. “Class Prez might, though. Maybe I should watch out. What if a [First] Devil does show up, am I gonna be replaced?”

Nayuta snorted affectionately, gold eyes bright like the sun, “you’re so dumb.”

A peaceful silence fell over you both and you released a satisfied breath. You wanted moments like this to last forever. “One day,” you looked at the orange-red sky above. “I’m gonna get old. At least, if I don’t die before then. But whatever ends up happening, we’re gonna be different,” you promised before Nayuta could protest what you’d begun to announce. “We’re not like them.”

ー and Makima’s time was too short; you’d heard that enough times since living with the Naganos.

That wasn’t going to be you and Nayuta.

“We’re not gonna be like them,” you promised, squeezing her hand tightly. “We’re gonna live forever.”

ー　

When was it when the image of Makima began to haunt you like a ghost?

You remember now, it had been in October of your first and last year of middle school when Nayuta finally started braiding her hair. You’d been fine that morning up until she came to the kitchen and you dropped the jar of pickled radishes, quietly sobbing until you caught a fever.

“Do you hate my hair being like this?” Nayuta asked in the quiet of the room you shared. It’s large and spacious, fit for three people. You never understood why the third bed in the room was kept when Nayuta never slept in any bed that wasn’t your own. The dogs and cats got a kick out of it, at the very least. So did Power who was shuffling about in the kitchen, banging pots and pans.

“I think it’s pretty. You’re pretty no matter how you do your hair.”

“I found a picture of the old me in Himeno’s room. The old us. She had her hair like this in all of Himeno’s memories too.”

“You used your powers on Himeno?”

“When she took a nap the other day. I wanted,” Nayuta trailed off, arms wrapped around her knees and eyes downcast. You were too hot to cuddle but she sat on the floor by your side anyway. “I wanted to know what the old me was like. Himeno didn’t like her very much. She liked the old you better. She liked that Aki person more though.”

Power’s Aki, you recalled from the photos  in a photo album Ichika made for Power’s birthday. “Himeno likes you though. I told you before, we’re not ー and Makima. It doesn’t matter if she didn’t like her.” Maybe Himeno had a thing against redheads.

“She thinks it sometimes. I can tell.”

I know.

“The old man said I was selfish when he met us.”

“I like that you’re selfish. We both get to be selfish at this point. Do you know how long we were in that dump?” You shared a laugh at the memory of the dump in question. The mattress was old as sin, rock hard and the blankets you owned couldn’t keep crickets out let alone the cold. “I miss robbing that one guy with the dolphin apron. He made the best dumplings. Wish we could have found the secret formula so we could still make them.”

“Humans can be dumb but the food is really good,” Nayuta’s lips turned upright.

You shift a bit so you can lay on your side, facing her more clearly, “do you remember what it was like in Hell?”

Nayuta shook her head, braid dancing to the motion. “Only little bits and pieces, but it’s blurry,” she disclosed, words soft. “I only remember wanting to leave soon.”

“When I was a kid, I always thought I was missing something,” you hold out your hand and Nayuta’s fingers slip into your own. You never knew another hand could be this warm, not even when your parents were alive. You don’t think you’d truly been warm until you met the girl who changed everything. You wanted to hold onto this life; hold it for as long as you could. You disavowed that there’d be a day you’d stop being you and Nayuta stopped being Nayuta and the new versions of you would run into the dawn hand in hand. You and Nayuta would live forever. “I’m really happy that I found you.”

Any sentimentality in the room was immediately blown away by the sound of Power kicking open the door.

“We have a doorknob, Power,” you groaned. Then you caught a whiff of the smell of broth, chicken and vegetables and raised yourself into a sitting position. Taking note of your realization, the strawberry-haired fiend puffed out her chest proudly as she presented the tray to you. The bowl was filled to the brim with soup, sloshing over the lip as she stepped forward and the crackers were worse for wear because of it. “You cooked?”

“Homemade! Straight from the can!” Power placed the tray on your lap, hands resting on her hips. “You humans are fragile creatures, so I decided to grant you my assistance.”

You had to purse your lips together to prevent yourself from laughing. “You know what, thanks, Power,” you let the fiend have her moment. Her homemade straight-from-the-can soup smelled pretty damn good.

ー

“Ichika, are you dating anyone?”

“What brought that on so suddenly?”

You shrug from where you sit at the kitchen table. “Because you never go anywhere unless it’s the farmer’s market,” you point out deftly. Work and home, that’s all either Nagano sister seems to have time for, save for the occasional pub night. No one in this house has much of a social life when you ponder it for more than two seconds. “We were kids before but it’s not like you don’t have a life now.” 

“You’re all still kids to me,” Ichika’s laugh is light and playful, like she’s daring you to protest otherwise.

“Power might be,” you lean back in your chair with a quiet snort. “She’s always been a handful.”

It’s rare for the house to be this quiet between the dogs and Power. The former are on a walk with Nayuta and the latter tagged along with Himeno to the market. Power has a child-like nature you doubt will ever fade. If something happens to Ichika and Himeno, what’s going to happen to Power?

“I recall all three of you being handfuls,” Ichika continues washing away at a plate with a laugh. “I’m not sure how you remember it but you and Nayuta had your moments too.” You remember your last first day of middle school and how Nayuta turned Power into a dog. You can recall many instances of Power falling prey to Nayuta’s power, truthfully. Himeno hated it. “Well, you had the least amount of tantrums, so I suppose I can give you that.”

You snort, lips curling in amusement, “name one tantrum I had.”

“I distinctly recall the time you were upset Himeno ate your leftovers.”

“That was different,” you cross your arms resolutely. “I counted everything I had left and put the numbers on the box!” If Power has a child-like nature, Himeno is a permanent child at heart. “I told her if she wanted something, to let me know. But she didn’t! She just wanted to mooch off my plate!” How many times has she put me through this? She hasn’t changed since I quit working at the Bureau.

“Himeno, I’m getting something to eat. What do you want?”

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry.”

“Himeno,” you eyed the woman with your lips pressed together and eyes narrowed. “I’m getting something to eat. What. Do you want?”

“Nothing, ー, geez! I’m not even hungry!”

“Liar, because I know damn well the moment I get back you’re going to want whatever I’m having! You know what, at this point, get your ass up. We’re leaving.”

“Wow,” Himeno held a hand against her chest, mockingly crushed. “This is how little you trust your best friend? I thought we had something special.”

“I trust you as much as I trust Nanaka not to poison me the first chance she gets,” you’d only been working for Japan’s Public Safety Devil Hunters for a month and the brunette still hated you. Apparently the transgressions of being assigned the partner of her beloved Makima was too heavy a crime. “I think I saw a new Italian place open up by the convenience store ran by that Brazilian couple I told you about.”

“Are you alright, dear?” You rub your forehead as if the motion will chase away ー’s memories with a vengeance.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I never worked at the Bureau, you remind yourself. And I don’t want to. I’m no hero. That was ー’s desire. You only desire that which is most simple. “But you never answered my question. We’re not kids anymore.”

Ichika sets aside her wet rubber gloves on the drying rack, wiping the remnants of moisture onto her apron. “You don’t have to worry about me, [First]. I’ve never been the social butterfly, my sister’s always been the brave one.” You wonder what memories Ichika recalls as she takes a seat in her usual spot across the table. “That’s why she became a devil hunter. But even when we were in school, she got along with everybody.”

“You said you were in the tea ceremony club, right?”

She perks up in pleasant surprise, “that’s right! I’m surprised you remember!” The summer before you started high school, Ichika pulled out their old yearbooks from when they were students. “It feels like just yesterday both of you were in high school.”

“It basically was just yesterday.” It hadn’t been long at all since graduation and your classmates flocked out of Shonai to various major cities across the country. Everyone but the two of you. “High school was… better than middle school.”

“That it was,” you know from the slight frown on Ichika’s face she is remembering exactly how much of a mess your time at Higashi Middle School had been. So much so you transferred to Kitahoro Middle halfway through attendance. “It was hard for the two of you.”

ー

“[Last]?” A voice that twinkles like a bell calls for you. “[Full name] is that you?”

It’s a little past lunch that Saturday afternoon and the day is sleepy for both humans and devils. You hadn’t seen so much as even a trace of devil activity, deciding to have an early lunch after tossing your weapon of choice underneath a dumpster in a back alley.

You turn around at the sound of your name, fearful it is Himeno who has found you.

Thankfully, this person is Himeno’s opposite in every way.

Their eyes are green instead of blue and their hair is a dark brown instead of navy.

I know this person.

“Oh, Class Prez,” you blink in realization. Yamada Moe, in the flesh. “It’s been a while.”

ー

On a school day like any other it announced that Kiritani Tomoko had been killed by a devil. Rare as that was in a small town like Shonai, everyone had been shaken up. 

“How ironic,” you heard the whispers from the adults around you. “It was the Rooster Devil. How ironic when her family raises chickens. Even here in Shonai, devils are everywhere.”

Adults who in the same breath greet Power and Nayuta with warmth whenever they are seen walking down the street.

Hypocrites.

Tomoko’s death is unfortunate but you won’t pretend it was something that impacted you personally. To the president of 3-A, Yamada Moe, it was an unforgivable blow. You didn’t see her during lunch in 3-C, nor did she come back from lunch despite leaving her bookbag and pen on her desk.

“Rika’s not here, either,” Nayuta told you when you pointed out the empty desk.

You aren’t saddened by the death of Kiritani Tomoko but you know of a death you couldn’t recover from.

So you don’t fight it when your teacher tells you to find where Moe has slipped away to and you don’t drag her back from the ponytail when you find her crying on the rooftop either. “Hey,” you closed the door behind you.

“Just go away,” Moe shuddered, holding herself tighter. “Why are you even here?”

“Hori-sensei wanted me to come find you.”

Moe raises her head with hot anger, eyes red and weary, “like you suddenly care about being a good student.”

“I told you before, didn’t I?” You plopped on the ground in spite of Moe’s protests, hands resting on your lap. The autumn wind is comforting against your skin and the rolling clouds are fluffy. An unsuspecting day to learn someone from school died. “I don’t believe in good or bad people. People just do good or bad things. But I get it,” you shrugged lackadaisically. “Nayuta does a lot of bad things. It isn’t like I’m a saint either, we’ve done plenty of bad. If that makes us bad people to you, that’s fine. But I get what it’s like to lose people too.

“My parents were good ones. But some asshole hit them with their car when I was seven and I was stuck on my own until I was thirteen,” what would have happened to you next if you had left things to the authorities around you? You’re unsure. At seven years old, running away seemed like the best option at the time. No princes would be coming to save you so you became your own prince. “Devils. Cops. Figuring out what to eat. The other people out on the streets could be the worst too. I got into a lot of fights back then.” All to lie in a building the government had yet to demolish. “I thought the world ended. Or at least my place in it had. If I never met Nayuta, I’m not sure how much longer I could have kept going like that.”

Spotting movement to your left, you looked to Moe and your eyes caught one another.

Red as her eyes were, they were wide at your confession with her mouth slightly ajar. “It’s corny but when she’s here, I feel like I can do anything.” Survive on the streets for months or even fight devil hunters that were planning to kill you before you could blink. “So she gets to do awful things. Nayuta can do the most awful things in the world. She’s perfect.” She’d been perfect the moment you met her. “So I can’t say much about being sad about Tomoko, because I didn’t know her like that. But I know how it feels to lose someone and I know what it’s like to be terrified it’ll happen again. So for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Sorry,” Moe murmured. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, you’re the one upset.”

…

“Aren’t you supposed to make me go back to class?”

“I’ll just tell Teach I got lost or something,” you yawned. “It’s none of his business.”

“You’re actually a good person, aren’t you?” Moe sniffled, resting her forehead against her knees. “You just pretend to be mean.”

“Good people don’t exist,” you sang, watching the clouds roll by. “Now mean, that I can be.”

“Now you’re being stubborn,” Moe muttered under her breath, sniffing again. “You’re good. It’s just being with Nagano Nayuta makes you act like a jerk.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to like her,” you close your eyes with a light smile. “The less people realizing all her positive sides, the more Nayuta there is for me.”

“I don’t know how you stomach being around her,” you shrugged. “She’s like poison. The two of you together doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t feel right.

You open one eye, “what do you mean?”

“It’s just a feeling I get,” Moe explained vaguely, twisting her hands together anxiously.

.

“Nayuta, don’t use your powers at school for a while.”

“Why not?”

“I found the C-” “Yamada thinks there’s something off about you and everyone else is still on edge about that last devil attack. So it’ll be better to lay low until everything calms down.”

“Who’s that?”

“My class’ president. You know her, you think she’s ugly.”

“… Do you like her?”

“She’s alright, I guess. She’s just a classmate.”

“What about me?”

“You’re everything.”

Nayuta leapt onto your back in her satisfaction, legs wrapped tightly around your waist. “I’ll leave the humans at school alone then.”

“Don’t use them no matter what, alright? We can just get extra snacks on the way home from school or something.”

“I won’t.”

ー

“You cut your hair, it looks good!”

“Thanks,” Moe plays with a lock of curly hair, boyishly short. It suits her rather nicely. You look freer. “It’s surprising seeing you here. What are you…?” She glances quickly at the hazmat-style onesie you’ve dressed yourself in, plastic visor raised above your head.

“Got a janitorial job and I’m taking no chances,” you lean against the cold bench lazily. “I never mocked a janitor before but I damn sure am never going to now. Those guys are the unsung heroes of our society.”

“Janitori-” Moe snorts in her shock, looking like you’ve grown two heads. “I always figured you’d become a philosophy teacher considering how you were back in middle school”

“Nayuta’s signed up for classes but I’m taking a couple years off to save,” what you plan on majoring in when the time comes is unknown even to you. Perhaps Moe is onto something with philosophy. “We can’t mooch off our benefactors forever.” What’s going to happen to Power if anything happens to Himeno and Ichika, you find yourself pondering once again. A third passport shouldn’t be that hard to forge. Kishibe got me and Nayuta into the country without any problem, didn’t he?

“Oh, where is she going?”

“She’s at Tohoku too,” you nod at the Tohoku University tote bag resting on Moe’s hip. “She’s doing everything virtually. Business Management major.”

There’s little surprise on Moe’s part when she hears that, “Business Management sounds like something that suits her.”

“She is pretty bossy, I can give you that,” you huff with an airy sigh. Management is something Nayuta will definitely thrive in. “She’s a damn good student though. What about you? What have you been up to? Majoring in law?”

“Philosophy, actually!” She laughs at how your eyebrows raise. “Surprising?”

“A little,” you nod and Moe rolls her eyes in playful exasperation. “But with all the arguments we had, philosophy or law honestly made the most sense. So I wasn’t that far off.”

“Those weren’t arguments, those were debates,” Moe corrects you needlessly, arms behind her back. It’s almost like all the tension left her when she cut her hair.

“You’ve mellowed out, Prez,” you whistle, impressed.

A younger Moe would have asked what you meant with a furrowed brow. The Moe of the present day accepts your words with a hearty laugh. “I was a bit high strung back then,” she lets out a nostalgic sigh. “Maybe more than a bit,” she admits sheepishly. “But middle school really feels so long ago. I guess I changed without noticing.”

“Sorry about middle school,” your lips curl into a grimace. “The stuff with Nayuta I mean.”

Moe’s eyebrows knit together with an empathetic curl of her lips, “it’s okay, I get it now. You were under a lot of stress back then.”

“How’s Rika doing?” You vaguely remember that girl who Nayuta would pawn snacks off of. “She going to Tohoku too?”

“Oh,” Moe shuffles nervously.

“What, did she drop out or something?”

“No, um, she never went to university,” Moe fiddles with a bracelet on her left wrist.

You raise an eyebrow at the odd behavior, “is she… dead?”

“No!” Moe answers quickly and you cock your head to the side, shrugging your shoulders. Okay then what is she then? “It’s just that she… became a devil hunter after we graduated.”

“Okay,” Good luck then, Rika. If you’re in Tokyo maybe Kishibe’ll be the one in charge of your training. As much as you hate the man, everything he’s taught you has kept you alive so far. You see green staring at you. “What?”

“I’m just surprised that you took that so well,” Moe breathes in disbelief. “Considering everything with Nayuta, I was afraid to bring devil hunters up in front of you.”

Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean ‘considering everything with Nayuta’?”

“Did-” Moe blinks once before she covers her mouth in horror. “Did you not know? I’m- I’m so sorry-”

“I found the C-”

.

“How did you know Nayuta wasn’t human? When did you figure it out?”

“When… that time back in middle school. She didn’t look human to me and when you went to her I just thought… in that moment Nayuta being a devil is why you were always so protective of her,” Moe’s head looks around the alley you’ve brought her too cautiously. It’s deep, deep within the darkest crevices of Sendai. “Where are we? Why are we here?”

You look at Moe and then the dumpster beside you, “I have to tell you the truth about something.” Your thumb brushes against your middle and index fingers for a moment. “I’m not really a janitor. I’ve been killing devils for the past seven months now. It’s underground work though.” You tell Moe this news as one might tell their friend they decided to plant tulips in their garden, reaching for where you slid your axe underneath the grimy trash heap.

“Devils?”

“Yeah.”

Moe looks at your rusty blade, caked in the blood from those you’ve killed thus far. “… But Nayuta,” she is unable to bring herself to say the rest.

You laugh, leaning against the wall for half a second before deciding you can’t stand the feel of it against your back. Nor do you wish to feel the eyes of Moe upon you. “Yeah, it’s sick isn’t it? She’s a devil but I’ve been out here for the past seven months killing ‘em. But Nayuta,” black hair and red rings fill your memories. “she means everything to me; I was alone for years until I met her. I have never cared that she was a devil. She was perfect, she’s still perfect. If anything ever happened to her, it would feel like the entire world was ending. I used to be a cashier, you know, but try making enough money to sneak a devil out of the country at your local 7-11,” you laugh humorously. “And I know you’ve never liked Nayuta but for me, Nayuta is everything. So please… please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t, [First]!” A foot steps towards you, voice full of emotion. “I didn’t like Nayuta before but I get it now! There are good devils out there and I’m going to prove it. That’s why I’m studying philosophy! If humans and devils can understand each other, we wouldn’t have to kill each other anymore!”

“She means everything to me,” your fingers dig into your palms as you repeat yourself weakly. She’s the best thing you knew you needed in a world that had nearly beaten you down for good. The one you would find repeatedly no matter the time and distance that separated you. “What am I doing? Killing devils for money like this when I know…” your shoulders sag. “But I can’t do anything else for her. I can’t earn money fast enough otherwise and I don’t have time to wait. I’m sure… this makes me a bad person, doesn’t it?”

“You are not a bad person,” Moe’s hand is warm on your back even through the layers you wear to keep yourself from being bloodied. “It’s not you that’s wrong, it’s the world itself. If enough people just realized that, things would be better.” A world where humanity and devils lived together in harmony? It seems like an impossible dream; perhaps it is one not within reach. Not within the lifetime you currently possess. And that’s okay, I’ll make my own happiness even with that fact. “You’re just trying to do what you can for the one you love in a shitty situation. Nayuta would understand that. So… so don’t beat yourself up about this. I never told anyone about Nayuta and I’m never going to.”

There was nothing familiar about her black hair, nor the mole under her left eye. You were sure you couldn’t say you’d ever met anyone with golden eyes with red rings in them either. There was no reason to feel like your senses had been set ablaze and the universe shifted.

You didn’t know this girl.

This girl was a stranger.

You knew this and yet you still fell to your knees as warm tears flooded your eyes without your permission.

You breathe.

“By the way,” you yawned, as it dawned on you that you never once asked for your new companion’s name. “what’s your name?” 

When there was no immediate response, you thought the girl fell asleep. “Nayuta,” you finally heard the feathery light reply. Nayuta pressed herself closely to your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“I’m [First],” you squeezed.

Nayuta squeezed back.

You breathe.

“I didn’t, [First], please believe me! Don’t leave me!”

You slide down your visor.

“We can get married for real when we grow up,” you vowed once more as you clumsily led each other in your dance.

Nayuta’s smile was saccharin, “promise?”

“Promise.”

And you breathe.

“Hey, Nayuta, pick a country. One that doesn’t have a devil hunting association in it.”

“Seychelles,” Nayuta didn’t miss a beat, grinning the devilish grin you loved all the while. “We still need to have our honeymoon.”

The back of your fist strikes Moe’s throat before she has time to react.

“Don’t worry at all, Prez,” you kick the woman to the ground, grip on your axe tightening as you sit atop her. “I know you won’t tell anyone.” You wonder what those forest green eyes see when they look up at you, eyes wide as she gasps for air. You hold her jaw in place, gloved fingers digging into her skin.

“Stop-” her words come quiet, hoarse. “I won’t tell! I really won’t tell!”

She won’t say anything. No. She might. She hasn’t snitched in all these years. She could change her mind. Cut off her tongue. Her fingers too. And the toes. All of it needs to go.

“I could cut off your tongue,” you feel her breath hitch from she freezes under your touch. You feel the beat of a pulse, pounding like a drum. “but you could still use your fingers. I could cut your fingers and you could use your toes. I could cut off everything and you’d still probably find a way to get out a message with the stumps too.” Tears swell in Moe’s eyes and you barely feel her fists beating into your shoulder. I’m glad I hit her in the throat, you finally take note of her barely audible, ragged whispers.“You can say you won’t talk until you’re blue in the face but there is nothing that can stop you from ever changing your mind. I’m sorry. I really did like you.”

See? I became a bad person to you just now, didn’t I?

The weight of your axe is heavy as it follows the push of gravity guiding your hand into soft flesh below. There’s a quick breath, a gurgle, that slips from Moe’s lips and you raise your axe again.

Red droplets strike your visor and you raise your axe again.

Muscle and sinew decorate the dirty earth around you and you raise your axe again.

Again and again even when what you strike is hard rock instead of flesh until you raise your axe a final time, and you hear metal clink that isn’t your own.

Your neck cracks from the force you whip your neck and the devil flinches when your eyes meet, not daring to press its raised hand to the ground. When you look closely, you see a twisted green soda can wobbling underneath it. Your shoulders steadily heave from your fatigue, neither of you moving a centimeter. You can’t hold back a tired laugh from the absurdity, resting a hand on a knee as you push yourself up. “Sorry,” you titter, neither of you blinking as you step to the side. “You’re hungry, aren’t you,” you gesture to the body, still warm. “It’s okay. Eat it.”

The devil’s mouth trembles, eyes flittering between you and the still lumps on the ground. It takes a step back.

You blink, letting your hand hang loosely against your leg. “What are you waiting for? I said eat it.”

As if coming back to life, the devil on all fours takes one step forward - then another - until it rushes past you to begin its feast. You raise your visor when the devil turns its head, jowls soaked in blood, eyes narrow. It eats stiffly, eying you and the axe in your hand. You smile reassuringly, eyes soft.

The Rat Devil should be about ¥600,000 right?

ー

Nayuta squeals when you lift her feet off the ground as you laugh maniacally, arms safely tucked underneath her back and legs.

An evening walk on the beach is just what you need after a trying day at work. The moon is full and the evening Shonai air is sweet unlike the stink of the city, heavy with exhaust and blood. Thanks for not being a bitch this time, Nishida. The Rat Devil cost as much as you estimated it would, if not a bit higher.

The life you lead isn’t perfect but it has its moments.

“We’re going to fall!” Nayuta shrieks but her grin is wide and shining under the moonlight. She’s almost like a siren, you think, as the waves accompany her voice. The sand squishes underneath your toes, kicking up the waves as you spin and spin. One day when you carry her like this, she’ll be in a beautiful dress and veil just like you talked about when you were kids. 

“Relax,” you tilt your head back, tasting the ocean spray on your lips. “I’m never gonna drop you!”

ー

“[First],” Himeno calls in a sing-song voice as you walk out the door. “Wait for me, kiddo! I need you to give me a ride!”

Your hand grips the car handle as you tilt your head back with a loud groan, “Himeno, I’m going to work.” The sun hasn’t risen yet nor have the morning birds begun singing their songs. Eight months you have been able to successfully stave off this conversation.

Eight months.

You hope to make it nine.

“Wow,” Himeno jeers, undeterred and you know your stomach will be heavy with dread if you’re unable to shake her off your tail. Eight months you’ve been able to successfully avoid this conversation with Himeno and you don’t plan to break your record. “Someone gets a job and the moment she starts moving up in the world she forgets about all the people she met along the way.”

“Yep,” you click your tongue. “I’m one of those people. So it looks like you’ll have to wait until someone else decides to be your chauffeur. I’ll call Sebastian to retrieve you later.”

“So they’re paying enough at 7-11’s for you to afford Sebastian’s rates?” Himeno whistles, impressed and awed as she rests a large stack of ¥10,000 on top of the car. “Can you recommend me a position? If I’d known that, I’d have left Himeji’s ages ago.”

Blue stares into [color].

Wordlessly, you sit in the car and Himeno follows suit, quiet as you pull out of the driveway and far from the coziness of home. She waits nearly ten minutes to the hour before she opens her lips, a smile in her voice that is frigid. “You have the look of a killer now,” your eyes flit to your reflection in the rearview mirror. “I wonder how many things you had to kill to get eyes like that.”

“What’s the issue with killing,” you mutter, eyes on the empty road. How she found the money is of little consequence. She has it and that’s all that matters. “Why did you make me learn how to kill them if you didn’t want me to do it?”

“Those skills were for protecting yourself,” you scoff at her answer. What’s self-defense to her will never accommodate your ambitions. “Not going out of your way to get yourself killed. As long as you’re living under my roof-”

“Oh don’t worry, we won’t be living there for much longer,” you cut off your benefactor.

“We?”

“We!” The car comes to an abrupt halt as your glares turn on one another. “You and Ichika aren’t going to be here protecting us forever! You think Power actually has the ability to live on her own in a world of humans? You’re not going to live forever!”

“And you think you are?!” Himeno laughs at the ludicrous presumption.

“I’m going to figure things out by then!”

Three adult passports.

(I’ll need the forgeries too.)

Visa.

Housing.

Food.

Permanent Residency.

(Can’t believe I forgot about ticket costs. Where do I go for illegally flying devils out of the country, huh? And the pets. What do I do to bring-)

“[First]-”

“And I don’t need your help to do that! And I don’t need to be under your roof either, I’ll move out! I have enough!”

“ー stop!”

“I’M NOT ー!” Himeno balks as you scream, slamming your hand against the driver’s window. The glass cracks but it does not shatter. “ ー isn’t coming back and the one you’re stuck with now is me! And I know you hate that and you have to be reminded that your best friend died every time you look at me but I am not her! I’m never going to be her!” Those memories would never be yours. Makima was never going to be yours. Makima is Makima, Nayuta is Nayuta. The difference is night and day. “I’m not like her! I hate her! I hate,” your voice cracks and you rest your head on the steering wheel, squeezing the handle tightly. “I hate it. I hate that you only want to see her. You never want to see me.”

“When Kishibe brought you both to me, I wanted to take you in immediately. And I have to be honest, a good portion of it was because of who you used to be. But I know you, [First],” a hand rests on your back, warm, but you’re too tired to brush it away. “You’re brave and kind and you look out for the people you care about even if it means you have to take the brunt force of everything. Nayuta has no idea about this and it’s because you want to keep her safe.”

“I don’t want her to come to the city and be discovered again,” “I’ve found the Control Devil.” The five words you fear hearing the most. “A life where Nayuta can be free. That’s all I want.”

“I see you, [First]. I see you and I see Nayuta and I’m very proud of who you’ve become and the people you’ll grow into for as long as I get to see it. I just haven’t been doing a good job showing that and for that, I’m so sorry,” her voice is cloyingly thick and in spite of yourself, your eyes feel hot. “Even if I could go back and stop ー from dying, I wouldn’t. I would never give up having you in my life, not even for her. You, Power, Nayuta. All three of you are precious to me, younger sisters I’ve always wanted.”

“You already had a younger sister, idiot,” you wipe your nose against your sleeve, disregarding your disgust for the trail of snot it leaves on the fabric. “Does Ichika mean nothing to you?”

“More younger sisters,” Himeno laughs wetly. “The four of you give me a life that’s worth living. I love it when Power plays her anime at the loudest volume possible. I can even look back on Nayuta and Power’s fights with a smile, isn’t that funny? At the time those situations weren’t funny but that’s how sisters are, I guess. And you always thought you could be slick hiding that you could be as much of a brat as the rest of us. Well, except for maybe Ichika. You should have seen her when she was four.”

You laugh despite yourself, “Ichika was probably the most well-behaved four year old on the planet. You probably made your parents want to send you back to the hospital.”

Himeno chortles, “only half the time.”

A pleasant silence falls over the vehicle.

“I think it’s time to call Grandpa Kishibe and finally move from this place. The house is getting too small,” Himeno leans back in her seat and stares at the leather ceiling. “The geezer should foot the bill for everything, he never even sent me child support.”

“Nayuta wants to go to Seychelles,” you follow Himeno’s example, resting against your seat. It’s dawn now, you note the fingers of the sun peeking behind the clouds and painting the sky hues of rose, indigo and vermillion.

You love the dawn.

“I know a place even better than that,” it’s supposed to be a wink but with the eyepatch, who can tell. “Remember that Angel Devil I told you about? The place he lives is pretty damn snazzy and warm all-year round. A place where even devils can live freely.”

ー

You barely had time to dry your hands on your skirt when Rika burst through the bathroom door, chest heaving. “[First], come quick,” the girl’s eyes were wide with fear. “Moe and Nayuta got into a fight!”

You bolted through the door, shoving Rika to the side.

Class 3-C was a mess by the time you arrived and calling what likely happened was a disservice to what you were welcomed to. Desks were skewed to the side as if a tornado had blown through it, food strewn across the floor. No one noticed your presence, not when Moe sat on the floor holding her jaw, battered and nose dripping with blood and Nayuta’s short form towered over her with silent menace.

“Nayuta, stop,” you stand between the devil and the human foolish enough to invoke her wrath.

“Why?” Gold eyes glowed harshly.

“You’ll kill her.”

“Why do you care if she dies? You said she didn’t mean anything to you. So I don’t understand,” Nayuta appeared to stand perfectly still but you could hear the tremor in her voice. From rage or from wanting to cry, you didn’t know. “Why are you protecting this girl? I’m all you need. Aren’t I?” Taking a half-step forward, Nayuta gripped your arms as if they were her lifeline. “Aren’t I?”

One year ago, not long after you turned thirteen, a blazing star sought refuge in your chest.

The birth of the universe.

Within that birth, you willingly took a devil’s hand and ran across the playground of the divine welcoming all damnation.

You’d do it for as long as she wanted you.

“From now and forever, we are going to stay together. We’ll eat a lot together, sleep together and live a happy life together,” you hold Nayuta to your chest, closer than what is possible between devils and man. “More than anyone in the world, you’re the only person I need. And I’ll never want anyone else either,” you whispered, brushing your fingers against her silky hair. “I told you before, didn’t I? We’re not like them. You and me are gonna live forever.”

“You want to be with me?”

“I want to be with you.”

“You’ll stay with only me?”

“I’m always gonna stay with only you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Let’s go home, okay?” When you felt the weak nod of your beloved, you wrapped Nayuta’s legs around your waist. Your initial steps were shaky, pacing backwards for a few seconds before you caught your balance. 

“I love you, [First],” Nayuta’s arms trembled around your shoulders and you hear the telltale signs of hiccuping.

“I love you too,” you held her closer if it was possible.

Warm droplets fall against your neck.

ー

Nayuta looks beautiful in her white dress, veil trailing delicately along the white sand.

translation notes.

織姫　「orihime」 ー weaver princess

<- part 2

[peakyrain]

she visualized—and then she shifted *ੈ✩‧˚

this post is about how visualization is scientifically proven to be an effective method of manifestation

i've always been a big fan of visualizing–whether it's for shifting or just daydreaming before bed. recently, i've been coming across lots of videos mentioning how visualization can affect us vastly, both physically and mentally.

i did my research only to find out that this is completely fact-based.

the practice of visualization is an immensely powerful tool for the human mind. it engages brain regions that involve perception, attention and memory. it also has the ability to effectively reprogram our subconscious minds.

visualization activates the same neural circuits as actual experiences and has shown to improve performances, learning and well being. some big examples are: muhammad ali, oprah winfrey and arnold schwarzenegger - they've all recommended visualization as a tool for success.

a study has documented the positive effects of visualization and its correlation to better performance outcomes for athletes. this is because when we visualize ourselves doing something, our brains believes we've already done it, which helps build confidence that there is nothing to fear.

another study observed the effects of visualization practices on muscle power. the results showed that by simply thinking about training their muscles, participants successfully increased their muscle strength by 35% compared to those who didn't.

muhammad ali once stated: “if my mind can conceive it and my heart can believe it, then I can achieve it” this is literally backed by science.

scientists have looked into the validity and effectiveness of visualization techniques to see whether visualization actually helps improve well-being:

dr. tor wagner has stated "imagination is a neurological reality that can impact our brains and bodies in ways that matter for our well-being"

when we vividly use all five senses in visualizations, we're able to trick our minds into believing that we already have what we want. in other words: our brains can't tell the difference between imagination and reality. this is exactly why visualization is such a powerful tool when it comes to shifting.

whether you're trying to step into the best version of yourself in this reality or shift to another one, visualization empowers you w/ the confidence and clarity to align your thoughts w/ your desires.

⭒ okay but how can i effectively use visualization to shift?

it's important to note that visualization isn't wishful thinking. it's about embodying a new state of being. practicing it regularly can help rewire your mind and help you embody your DR self.

anyway, here are some tips!

-

daily routine:

-make visualization a routine. do it in the morning or before bed and try do practice it for at least 10 minutes a day to establish a consistent habit

senses:

-use all your five senses while visualizing to have the most psychological impact. focus on what you can see, hear, taste, smell and feel in each moment. subliminals or guided shifting meditations can also be helpful here (alunir!!)

also, during this part: let the scenario flow naturally. don’t force anything even if you can’t "smell" the coffee or "taste" it. it’s fine, dw. forcing the scenario can be very draining, speaking from experience—especially during the day.

writing:

-make a script of how the scenarios in your DR will play out, scene by scene. the more details, the better. also, focus on how you're feeling at each point in the scenario—you're not just imagining it, you're experiencing it.

vision board:

-make a vision board. add a collection of photos, quotes and images that reflect you DR. keep this vision board somewhere you spend a lot of time. it’s basically just a physical pinterest collection. keeping it in your line of sight can reinforce the power of your vivid visualizations

-

the more real it feels to your mind, the closer it becomes to being your reality.

shifting isn't just a possibility, it's natural when your mind actually believes that you're already there :)

[tigirl-and-co]

Wahoo! Rainmakers fic is here! Merry Christmas! I spent highschool mildly obsessed with these guys, and now I'm proud to present what is probably the only Rainmakers x Reader fic ever written. I didn't check or anything. Who else would ever.

I tried to give everybody a distinct personality, please let me know if you think the vibes are coming through! It's meant to be set in a vaguely G1 universe. But more modern. Like if G1 took place some nebulous time after cellphones became common.

When I Think About Rain

Ch.1

"So what the frag is snow for?"

Watching a lime green robot kneel down in the snow and leave handprints the size of your entire body filled you with an indescribable emotion. Trying to figure out how to explain natural weather patterns to three of them gave you a feeling you could describe in a word: headache.

Looking from Acid to Nova to Ion, you tried to figure out how to respond. "Precipitation on earth just sort of happens, and life evolved to work around it. We don't really make it. We did try a few times but it just doesn't work."

Ion Storm spoke up from somewhere behind you, as blunt as ever. "That's stupid. You guys don't even control what weather happens on your own planet? Sheesh, talk about lower lifeforms!"

You shot the seeker a particularly unimpressed look, causing him to snort. He liked taunting you, and you weren't sure if it was because he had a crush on you or if he considered you 'one of the boys.' You were pretty sure it was the latter, but after Powerglide and Astoria became an item, you couldn't be completely sure.

Nova was looking up at the clear blue winter sky contemplatively, and it sort of hit you that Cybertronians don't have any childhood memories of winter. No snow days, no sledding, no digging caves in a snow bank. Snow wasn't magic to them in the same way it was to humans.

But Nova Storm didn't know what he didn't know as he turned to face his bluest brother. "I dunno, I think it's kind of cool. Having to live each day under a new set of circumstances, never really knowing what your planet's gonna throw at you. Be fun, at least for a while."

The leader of the group looked up from where he was poking at the snow to stare at you. "Sounds dangerous. Are you sure you don't wanna just move to Cybertron? We wouldn't even tell Shockwave you were there this time." You knew Acid Storm wasn't stupid enough to think it would actually ever work, but he hadn't given up hope yet that maybe you were.

Taking a swig of hot chocolate, you rolled your eyes at him. "Sneaking you lot through the spacebridge once every couple months is already risky. How're you gonna play off using it every week to get me food?" You gave a sort of faux-haughty shrug, playing at knowing better than the multi-million-year-old space warriors. "I don't see why you don't just switch sides so we can hang out more."

Suddenly, Ion Storm threw himself on his back, and even with the muffling of the snow it was such a powerful movement that you had to brace yourself to keep from falling over.

He lolled his head to look at you. "Because Optimus would probably make us actually do our jobs, instead of-" and Ion switched into an awful Megatron impression- "perfecting our acid rain formula."

You couldn't help but cackle at that, and all three seeker's optics softened. You were so small, smaller even than Soundwave's cassettes, but you weren't afraid to live loudly. To stare the Rainmakers, the flying horrors of Cybertron, right in the face and laugh about their boss with them. A life so fragile and fleeting that you refused to live in fear for it.

How were they meant to resist you?

Acid Storm found himself walking over to you. The loud crunch of snow being compacted prevented you from being surprised when he bent down to scoop you up and set you on his shoulder, you simply huff in amusement. So touchy.

Unable to protect your face from the sudden increase in winter winds from being up so high and simultaneously smile amusedly at Acid Storm, you ended up doing neither and gave him a bizarre and unreadable expression that stung your eyes and burned your lungs.

Laughing, he put a servo around you to shelter you from the wind. "Humans are all so weird."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure ours is the weirdest of them all," Ion Storm jeered from just out of your line of sight.

You couldn't suppress a snort at that one, and hollered a reply into the wind.

"Your human?" you couldn't help but call him out on that one. "Weird, I will own up to. But who ever said I was yours? I'm a free spirit, man, I belong to nobody but myself!" You hoped they could hear the smile in your voice.

Nova smiled back at you. "Well, we did capture you that one time," he rebutted, "which teeeeechnically makes you 'our human.'"

"Pfffft, no way! I bought my freedom fair and square! You let me go, so you don't own me!"

Ion stood up and reached over Acid's servo to seat you in the palm of his own, looking you dead in the eyes. "If you're not our human, how come we can just pick you up and you don't complain?" He narrowed his optics and sneered triumphantly.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head sympathetically. "Do you really think you're the only people who ever pick me up? Look at me, I'm adorable! People can't resist picking me up!"

You were too focused on Ion to notice Nova coming in from behind. "Aw, but we're your favourites, right?" He lowered his massive head down to your level, and if you didn't know him as the brains of the group, you'd almost think he looked like a puppy begging for praise. "We're the best at human-handling, yeah?"

After your heart climbed back down from your throat where the shock had chased it, you managed to feign being contemplative. "Hmmm... I suppose that's true. And I mean I did choose to spend a day hanging out in a snowy field in the middle of Fuckass Nowhere with you three, which probably has to count for something."

Now looking less like a puppy and more like the proverbial cat who got the cream, Nova grinned triumphantly. "See?" As he stood back up to his full height, satisfied with your answer, you simply had to giggle. In the low sun, his goldenrod colour scheme and general shape brought to mind a star at the top of a Christmas tree. His temperament certainly helped, of course. Giant killer robot or not, when he was happy, he had a sort of glow about him.

Acid Storm snorted.

"The Rainmakers: Scourge of Cybertron's Skies, and top-tier fleshy sparklingsitters." There was no malice in his tone- he really did just feel as comfortable joking with you as he did the rest of his trine. "I'm sure that'll put some real fear into the sparks of our enemies!"

You spun around in Ion's hand to give a witty retort. Ion fired a line at you, and you parried that, too. And so it went for the rest of the day. Eventually, enough hours had passed that your hot chocolate was gone and the stars had come out.

You smiled tiredly- you loved them and their banter, and you liked feeling like you actually belonged, but good God. There's only so many hours of witty banter in a snowy field the human mind can take. "Okay, boys. It's getting pretty damn cold out here, so we better get you home before I freeze to death."

Unable to tell if you were joking or not, they acquiesced. And in Acid's cockpit, on the long flight back to the spacebridge, you found yourself looking forward to the next meeting before they even left.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hear me out this. Hanzo falls in love with a woman who's in the Lin Kuei.

(You can make it as horny as your brain wants)

(Please?)

Oooooooh our resident spicy boy!

Fire & Ice

Hanzo Hasashi x Fem!Lin Kuei!Reader)

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Sexual tension, pining, opposites attract, slight spanking (briefly) unprotected sex, bath sex, PiV sex, temperature play(?) wee bit of Kanon fudging

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Hanzo is just MMMMF also Raiden is Light Aligned here for a wee bit of context

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

It all started during one of the first peace talks after the budding brotherhood of your Grandmaster, Kuai Liang (AKA Sub-Zero) and the Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu.

Once the cease-fire between the clans was initiated, it was met with mixed results. The original Shirai Ryu were annihilated (including Hanzo's wife and child) by the forces of the previous Grandmaster, Bi-Han (whom everyone later discovered was actually the evil sorcerer Quan-Chi in disguise).

However it came to light that the initial fires of hatred that were lit were orchestrated by the Grandmaster before Bi-Han himself; before Bi-Han became the void-creature known as Noob Saibot, before Cyrax and Sektor were "cyberized".

All of course, with Quan-Chi's aid...

But when Kuai Liang and Hanzo Hasashi buried old prejudices and hatreds and pursued an avenue of peace and allyship, they proposed training scenarios between the ninjas.

You were one of Sub-Zero's top members. Your flexibility and cryomancy a deadly and graceful combination.

Naturally, at some point you found yourself pitted against your complete elemental opposite, Scorpion.

Not only was he your elemental opposite, he was vastly more skilled than you. Having spent years as a revenant under the control of Quan-Chi, training others in the way of the Shirai Ryu, working with Lord Raiden... Yeah. You were a child compared to his prowess.

But you however, did get some ideas for your own weaponry from him. Instead of a normal kunai attached to a chain, you settled for a chain with blunt ends, allowing your cryomancy to shape various weapons at the ends. After all, they'd been useful for making things like spears, scythes and various others in the past...

And to say the man was floored when you used his own techniques against him--and mastering them with your own twists while you were at it--was an understatement.

It became rather normal for Hanzo to seek you out for sparring sessions, seeking to experiment with your respective powers you both created various attacks and techniques to better battle one another.

However it was during one of your sessions, where you were to be chased and he the hunter, that the two of you finally figured out that what was between the two of you was more than camaraderie, more than diplomatic friendship.

Hanzo himself realized a lot sooner than you did. The warmth in his heart (and not from his flame) and the increased rate of beats when you were around, how his thoughts would drift back to you when it was quiet, when he would pace the Fire Gardens...

It was a feeling he hasn't felt since Harumi.

He was hesitant to bring it to your attention, for fear of a repeat performance of some cruel twist of fate robbing him of the one he loved once again.

He couldn't dare hope one as vibrant and beautiful as you could feel the same.

Until that night, when he had you pinned to the tree, breathing hard from the chase.

He barely had a moment to realize how close he was to you before masks were torn from faces by your hand and lips met lips in a kiss balanced in his hot and your cold; a kiss so passionate steam wafted as your mouths parted.

It was under the snow-heavy branches of that tree where your hands first explored each other. Not in heated sexual passion, but with the desire to map out every detail you could, so when the two of you parted ways again you would always be able to mentally trace those lines, commit them to memory like a well-read book.

Kuai Liang had suspicions of a budding relationship between the two of you. If anything, you had to wager that he probably knew your true feelings for one another even before the two of you figured it out for yourselves; but he wouldn't bring it forth. He knew you two needed to figure it out at your own pace.

After all, his friend was still nursing a broken heart from the loss of his wife and child. But he knew this was still good for him, for the two of you, for both clans.

Hanzo Hasashi had finally fallen in love again.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Your first real "intimate" moment with Hanzo was when you showed him to the hot springs in the mountains. Heat, ice and snow all together in a blissful harmonious oasis.

Not unlike your love for one another, a peaceful respite in tumultuous times.

"This is... Beautiful." Hanzo said, his breath coming out of him in a cloud that swirled with the snowflakes. "But won't it still be too cold to bathe?"

You chuckled and pulled off your mask. Shaking your hair free of icy flakes. "Well, Hanzo, that's why the goal is to stay in the water. Where it's warm."

He blew out a chuckle and shook his head. "Obviously." He turned and looked around, the red leaves of the maple trees surrounding you casting a beautiful scattering of color among the white and gray.

"But it--"

His voice died in his throat as he watched you strip your uniform from your body.

You held no shame, clearly, as you stripped bare in front of him, your wonderous body on full display for his longing, hungry eyes.

You took pride in your athletic frame, muscles and soft curves in all the right places, your body a gorgeous shell for the violence you were capable of committing.

His dark eyes met yours, a twinkle dancing in their depths as your smile reached your ears. You beckon him towards you, your fingers curling in a silent request for him to come closer.

It is a silent request his body obeys before he realizes he's even moving, his blood rushing in his ears.

When your fingers wrapped around his tabards you begin undoing each bit of his ornamentation slowly, peeling it off of him like a juicy piece of fruit you couldn't wait to take a bite out of.

Maybe you would... later.

Once he was naked, you gave him enough dignity to spare looking between his legs, knowing he wouldn't be ready for you to look at him there just yet, you felt like he would set the very air ablaze; each snowflake that landed on his body melted with a soft hiss as it came into contact with his skin.

At first you were concerned that maybe he was too hot, that the spring might make him sick with the extra heat added to his body; but as you sank into the water, he didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, his eyes continued to take your form as he thought you weren't looking.

Every scar told a story, and he wanted to hear them all, wanted to hear a symphony of your voices together as you breathed your love into one another s lungs as you shared scorching kisses.

You could have sat next to him. You could have.

But you didn't. As shameless as you were, you sank down in front of him between his parted knees, slowly, a soft noise escaping you as the water crept up your cold body and you pressed your back against his chest.

You pretended not to hear the sharp inhale of breath as his raging erection pressed firmly against your back, the heat from it almost hotter than the water you were reclining in.

You hummed softly as he slipped his arms around you, pressing a hot, damp kiss to your icy shoulder.

You'd swear he could probably leave burns with those lips of his.

"Hmm... How did your meeting with Lord Raiden go, Hanzo?" You ask him, sliding your hands up his thighs and to his knees, feeling the knotted muscles tighten and flex beneath your touch.

"Ah..." He said, his voice tight in an effort to control himself.

"It... Went well. Young Takeda was there, it was good to see him again."

"How is Takeda doing?"

"He's spending more time with his father, and I believe he and Jacqui Briggs are officially a couple." Hanzo chuckled.

"That's good, they're a nice match." You sigh, relaxing into him more, maybe, just slightly intentionally grinding your ass against his cock.

His arms tighten around you and he leans in, his lips at the shell of your ear.

"You're playing a dangerous game, my lotus." He growls.

"You know me... I live for danger." You purr, grinding against him once more.

He groaned in your ear and rolled his hips to meet yours.

"I have to ask..." Hanzo said, one of his rough and calloused hands rising to give your ribs a feathery touch.

"I'm experienced, don't worry." You assure him playfully.

"Good..."

Was that... disappointment you heard in his voice?

"Awww..." You reach back and comb through his ebony locks. "Hanzo... Are you sad you're not my first?"

"No..." He lied. "I'm merely content to know this will be fully enjoyable for you, then."

You gladly take a mental note and stow that information away for a later scenario you wanted to play out with him...

"Hanzo?"

"Hmm?"

You turn your head slightly and capture his mouth in an awkwardly-angled kiss, teeth and tongues grazing, nipping, and twining together in a passionate affair.

You lift your hips enough in the water so the head of his cock is squished between your thighs. You roll yourself against him, letting his cock stroke between your legs as you flex your muscles, gripping him as tight as possible.

"Agh... You truly live for danger, hm?" Hanzo groaned hotly in your ear. His hands kneaded your breasts, his fingers heating up as he pulled and twisted your nipples in time with the lazy rolling of your hips.

"Hanzo..." You keened softly.

"You need to stop." Hanzo said, gripping your hips, effectively stilling you.

You pout in protest, and look at him over your shoulder, waiting for an explanation.

Hanzo's tongue darts out to lick at a bead of water that rolls down your shoulder, and nips at the skin, there.

"When I finish, I want it to be inside you." He growled against your skin.

His voice and the way he was touching you sent a jolt of excitement racing up your spine.

"Yes." You breathe, your heart beginning to flutter in your chest like a flighty bird.

"Do you want me, my lotus?" Hanzo asked you. "Do you want me inside you?"

"By the Elder Gods, yes." You reply, your voice shaky but certain.

Hanzo quickly helped you up, turning you around so your breasts were squished against the rocks below you, your hands balling in the snow, ice creeping out from beneath your fingertips.

You eagerly spread your legs for him, water rolling off your body as his searing grip kneaded and squished the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks as his chest heaved while his eyes drank in your swollen and waiting sex and prone form.

"Hanzo, please?" You pant, pushing back into his grip.

His cock twitched at the sight of you, at the feel of your icy skin in his hands. Any normal person would be a shivering mess, being practically face down in the snow. But not you. You were Lin Kuei, a cryomancer.

His little ice lotus.

He gripped the base of his cock and took his time lining up, a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as you squirm impatiently.

He wasn't sure why, but something told him to raise his hand and slap your ass in a reprimand.

The squeak you made at first gave him the impression that he'd seriously hurt you, but when he noticed how demure you became, he chuckled softly.

"Behave, lotus. You must learn patience. It is a ninja's greatest asset." He said, his chest tightening as the tip of his cock slipped through your wet folds, the walls of your pussy gripping him in a greedy vice.

"Please, Hanzo..." You cried softly, trying to sink yourself deeper against him to sheathe his cock fully in the waiting velvet of your body.

Hanzo's hands prevented that, and it frustrated you, but your complaint died before it could form as he slowly eased himself inside, inch by torturous inch, until the tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix.

He certainly had girth and length that was definitely going to make you see stars, tonight... His size complemented the roped muscles all throughout his body.

You make a deep, throaty moan as his weight settles into you, your muscles squeezing him down, trying to pull him deeper.

You feel the short coarse hairs that reached his navel brush the skin of your ass as he brought his hips firmly against yours.

He leaned in, kissing up your back and over your shoulder until his mouth was at your ear.

"How do you want me, love?"

"Fuck me hard. Please?"

He kissed your shoulder, biting down and sucking the skin, marking you as he pulled out and slammed his hips back in.

Your cries shook birds from the trees, the sensation of his balls slapping against your clit sending shivers up your spine, the pressure of his cock pounding you and pressing against that one divine spot within you, each drag of the vein running up his length driving you further and further into madness.

No other man you'd ever been with had been so precise or skilled in the art of sex.

Your previous partners were paltry compared to the sharp, angled thrust of Hanzo's hips, his cock cramming into you at such a harsh and heavy rate that you swore you were going to cum at any second, gushing around him, leaving a nice creamy ring at the base of his dick as he fucks into you like a man possessed.

He grips your shoulders and pulls you up against him, so your back is pressed against his chest.

His hands rise to your breasts, his fingertips almost glowing as he pinches your nipples, the soft mounds bouncing and jiggling in his hands with each upward thrust of his hips into yours.

"Hanzo!" You cried out, tossing your head back with a wail of ecstasy, your vision going cross as he brings one of his searing hands to your clit, rolling vigorously, the heat feeling like it set every nerve in your body alight with fire.

"Come for me." He softly commands.

And just like that, your body obeys him, clamping down, squeezing him, trying to mold yourself around him; commit his shape and size to memory so he and only he could ever fuck and satisfy you ever again.

He hisses out a breath, steam rising in waves off his body as he fucks up into you again, riding out your orgasm as he rapidly approaches his own.

Hanzo eases you back down, his hand sliding up your sweaty, chilly spine as he tips his head back, his lips parting in a moan as he cums, jerky thrusts and loud whimpers from you as his boiling hot load paints your insides a nice, pearly white, threatening to burn a hole right through you.

He lazily fucks you, some of his spend leaking out around him and dripping down your thighs as he rides out the blinding high that took over every range of his senses.

Once the two of you regain your breathing, he keeps you firmly seated on his cock as you both sink back into the water, relaxing as the heat soaks through your chilled core while Hanzo gently pours palm fulls of water on your skin, massaging your shoulders.

"Mmmh..." You sigh, relaxing against him as he kisses the top of your damp head.

"You seem content." He chuckled.

"Hanzo, I'm pretty sure you're going to have to carry me back home." You laugh. "Had I known what kind of weapon you were packing, I would have been just slightly more hesitant..."

"Only slightly, hm?"

"Just a bit." You murmur, kissing the knuckles of one of his hands.

Hanzo grins and plants a kiss over the bruise he'd left on your skin.

"You will get used to it, my lotus."

[blacksheep28]

Traditionally I join a world and interact with it directly. It's even my preference to do so. Why wouldn't I love getting the chance to directly see the beautiful creatures and wonders that made it up? This world however had an exception to it. Systems that ruled how the souls brought here were meant to interact with it.

I have never cared for things that stole away choice.

It was easier to devour Airplane's System than I expected it to be. It left a perfect hollowed out space that I could fit into. I slipped in, changing to fit the nature of the world and place I was taking. It was kinda cozy to settle in. Of course I immediately began to check through what my programs and options were. I needed to untie Airplane's life from the points I would track, and disengage punishments. It wasn't too difficult, but it left me relatively powerless as a System. It turned out that without a life in the balance to pay in gambles earning points was much more difficult. It would take a lot of work to earn anything.

That was fine. Airplane was a good selection for a System with minimal powers. He was more than capable of managing things on his own without a store or any extra perks. All he would need was advice and support, and I was more than able to give that to him. Airplane wouldn't fear being unwanted as long as I was attached to him.

It was hard being patient about reaching out to Airplane. He was currently just a child with confused memories. As soon as he would be able to bear them I would unlock the door on them so he could fully remember who he was. Until then I would have him steal what scraps of childhood he could find in a home that didn't want him. He was too strange and clever for them to bear. The world is rarely kind to those who are different.

[Welcome to Proud Immortal Demon Way, a living growing world based off your novel!] I chirped cheerfully. Airplane stared at the words for a moment, his heartbeat starting to rabbit. [Bound Role: Shang Qinghua, traitor to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Starting B-Points: 100.]

"Ahaha, there's gotta be some kind of mistake?" Airplane tried. His tiny child fingers trembled.

[No mistake User 001! You have been given a second chance!]

He burst into tears. "This is terrible!"

[User001 should pay attention to what he's being told.]

"I don't want to die!"

[User001 doesn't have to! User001 is free to diverge from canon at any point!]

"Wait, I am?" The tears dried up. Airplane might currently be a child, but he was still someone forged under pressure. He wouldn't waste time crying when there were better solutions.

[This world is meant to change. User001 can decide what that means for him!]

Airplane fell silent. I could tell his thoughts were racing as he thought about this. "So what do you do?"

[This System is a24/7 help service for your transmigration experience! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ It is available to answer questions and guide this Host to his goals!]

"What goals?"

[This System suggests beginner quest "Cultivate to Win"! PIDW is a dangerous world, Host's ability to survive will increase with such skills.]

"Ah, that's true, this world has a ton of monsters in it, and so many papapa plants-"

[(≧▽≦)]

"What?"

["Papapa". Cute!]

"Hey, I'm eight! What dirty s*** are you expecting from a child?"

[Host is a transmigrated author of a porn novel ¬‿¬]

"I needed the money!"

[This System is aware. This System doesn't judge Host for doing so. This System is simply charmed Host called sex "papapa".] Airplane shook his head and started complaining to himself. I listened in amusement. This is what I had come for, Airplane's utter ridiculousness.

https://www.tumblr.com/blacksheep28/781861652058554368/httpswwwtumblrcomblacksheep28781775366005063?source=share

[truthseeker91]

There’s an agenda against women.

We are living in a world where powerful figures manipulate our reality, dictating what is acceptable or unacceptable according to their twisted standards. While they go by many different names, I often refer to them as "the powers that be." They are male supremacists who abhor the very existence of women and aim to obliterate our rights.

Sisters, it is crucial that you understand the depth of this misogyny—it is not merely a byproduct of society but a deliberate orchestration by these sinister forces. They control the entertainment industry and have infiltrated our government; agencies like the CIA and FBI are in their service. They are the puppet masters funding red pill channels and the proliferation of pornography, using actors and puppets like Candace Owens, Andrew Tate, and Brett Cooper to spew their venomous propaganda and to shape public opinion on women's social issues.

Take a moment to reflect: the most popular celebrities, politicians, and social media personalities are just pawns in an elaborate game, playing roles crafted far in advance. The saying "All the world's a stage" has never rung truer. This is all meticulously planned, all designed to keep us controlled and complacent.

But it’s not just about the overt manipulation—we are also subjected to relentless psychological warfare. Music, a powerful tool of cognitive control, is weaponized against us. It can hypnotize our minds, lull us into emotional submission, and shift our focus away from the truth. Here are a few ways in which music achieves this 

1. Rhythmic Patterns - The repetitive nature of music can induce a trance-like state, allowing listeners to enter a focused or meditative mindset. The rhythm can synchronize with our body’s natural rhythms, promoting relaxation. 

2. Melodic Structures - Certain melodies can evoke powerful emotions and memories, guiding listeners into altered states of consciousness. This emotional resonance can facilitate deep insight or reflection.

3. Brainwave Entrainment -  Music can influence brainwave patterns through specific frequencies. For example, certain types of music can promote alpha or theta brainwaves, which are associated with relaxation and increased creativity.

4. Guided Imagery -  When combined with lyrical content or specific themes, music can enhance guided imagery techniques, further deepening the hypnotic experience.

Here are some good videos explaining it - 

https://youtu.be/rTJVWCUpJEI?si=rSbf1PaL91Xu966I

And https://youtu.be/QkHOXuY8C58?si=PbnGqfFmSBenInKE

In summary, music's unique combination of rhythm, melody, and emotional depth allows it to act as a powerful catalyst for trance-like states, making it an effective form of hypnosis.

Why does this matter? Because every day, countless women are being brainwashed by celebrity singers who encourage them to prioritize male pleasure above their own. Take SZA's song "Snooze," for instance. When you dive into the lyrics, it becomes painfully clear: this song glorifies male worship and being complete doormats for Men.

Imagine the impact of continuously absorbing these messages—how they seep into our minds and alter our actions, making us believe that our worth is tied to someone else's satisfaction. This is not just entertainment; it's a dangerous manipulation of our identity and self-worth!

I urge you—spare no time! Study psychological warfare and arm yourself with knowledge. Approach the world with a critical mindset. Question everything, challenge the narratives, and never accept what is presented at face value.

[transformers-synergize]

Wait, so if modifications like being a seeker don't come naturally, how does getting those modifications increase lifespan? Are there bots that have an affinity for those mods that just happen to have longer lifespans on average? Something about energy usage? Curious.

Oh, it doesn't increase lifespan it decreases lifespan often by more than half.

cybertronians have two main factors that determine their lifespan frame functionality and their spark energy. Cybertronian frames are tough and last longer than any human technology ever could, but that doesn't mean they don't need repairs and Maintenance, especially with how harsh Cybertron's environment is. This is why the average lifespan is so different from the max. With the war and slowly dying planet, their not enough medics or resources for repairs to go around, and many more ways to get grievously injured or die.

As for sparks, sparks have a finite amount of energy. Most sparks will last around 100 thousand years, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. Anything above 125 thousand is some kind of outlier or a non-standard cybertronian. Once a spark has burned out, its essence will return to the Allspark, where it has a chance to re-emerge again into a new frame with no memories of any of their past lives. Returning to the Allspark is kinda like a recharge for sparks.

Lifespan does have a link to energy usage since a spark energy is finite. Bots that have powerful abilities that use spark energy or use weapons add-ons that pull from spark energy often have slightly shorter lifespans because of this. Seekers' lifespans are often shorter because it takes extra energy from the spark for them to function, shortening their overall lifespan along with the modification, making them more prone to frame failure. They are remade for war, not a life after war. Theirs a reason why autobots don't usually fly, well at least not in robot mode.